#some of the words are hard but i tried to make sense of it

[reshinless]

Hear me out..Jealous!kinich x reader smut...also I love your writing style it makes me wanna explode🤭

──── bet you feel it now, baby

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. you didn't have to laugh that hard at his joke. it wasn't even that funny. he's better, it's fine, he'll just show you how much better he is.

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader, !!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. posting wip list in a bit plus brief overview of 800 special fic (it'll probably be genshin/hsr :3)

۪ ⠀✧ warnings. possessive behavior (kinich), jalosi /j, kinda ass/pussy eating (see to it however you like, i used no real specific term, reader is blindfolded for some parts, jealous behavior, rough sex, sex itself, y'all get walked in on (be ready for this to be implied into more of my kinich works LOL), establish relationship

"ahhn- kinich i said 'm sorry.. pleasef- slow down!" your face in the pillows, your words muffled and long gone into the night. the black-haired man's raspy voice spoke from behind— your boyfriend, kinich, of course. "he wasn't all that entertaining, why laugh like how you do with me?"

it was torture to him, seeing how it went from an awkward laugh, a polite smile, to a more genuine appearance to the stupid guy that just had to come up to you while he was busy getting a little snack for ajaw— even ajaw wouldn't comment on how his face looked this time, keeping his own silence as he ate the delicious candy.

"fffuck- he was an old classmate i had at the akademiya- 'm sorry, i-i really am kin-!" he almost laughed at your words. classmate? doesn't mean you should be playfully hitting shoulder like that. or teasing him like that. it's all his, no one else should be able to have it.

you shuddered, what felt like cumming again for the umpteenth time in a row, he hadn't stopped pinning you against the wall, and making you see stars over and over again ever since you saw your "classmate".

"doesn't matter." he groans, finishing inside you once more, your eyes were blindfolded by his headwear, previously on his forehead. he carries you onto the mattress, laying you down a little roughly. "w- what are you doing?"

you shivered once more, feeling warm exhales near your entrance, his cheek resting suddenly on one of your thighs. "all mine, right?" the blunt tone present in his tone definitely made it out as if you couldn't tell him anything other than yes (because it was true). his lips start to scatter a plethora of glossy little kisses all over your thighs, the sensation of getting him to cover every inch of your legs felt like a fever dream.. was this really a punishment?

you could feel his other hand snake to one of yours, which was somewhere on the bed. holding it tight as he started to place wet pecks over your hole. "hhnnn.. kin stop- ... stop teasing me.." you felt yourself moan into his touch, your other hand reaching out for wherever his head was. your fist grabbing at his hair, almost trying to push him into you further.

you felt him groan into you, you could sense he was whipped for your taste. the way you moaned his name. his.. name. "ahh- ahhh fffuck!— kin it's all yours, i promise!" his hand left yours, and stopped lapping at your hole for a moment- you heard a small grunt, and two things landing on the floor.. was he taking his gloves off?!

you could feel him sitting you up with one of his other hands, arms setting you down onto his face, arms locking around your thighs. straddling you over his mouth, as he started to devour what was his. no other guy could do this to you, not without making you feel as good as he did.

shit and he definitely did, the way he made you feel wasn't like the stupid losers who'd try to hook up with you back in the akademiya. or tried to pick you up in the streets. they can't make you feel turned on as much as you did when kinich blindfolded your eyes with something he doesn't usually take off and hear his belt buckle start to come off- ahhh nothing was better!

oh you felt yourself almost creaming on his face just thinking about it. not to mention how good he worked his tongue into you, definitely tasting every little bit, every little nook & cranny his tongue could reach.

he made a small sound, looking up to see you slowly riding his face as is, trying to rub yourself near against his nose. his authorative hold was more than enough to stop you from moving again, one of his palms moving over your stomach to feel the way his tongue moved inside you.

his head busily buried itself more into your scent, glossing his tongue so carefully, making sure you feel it. you started to feel something pool in your stomach- ssshit you were gonna cum again! your hands trail back down to his hair, gripping it harshly again, him seeing signs that you're close, he fastens his pace, licking as much as he could, no longer concentrating on the taste, more on your facial expression.

"ahhn- kin i'm g'na-!" "mmm there it is, such a good kitty." were the words he moaned into your hole, as he gladly lapped up every inch of your delicious juice/cum.

as he placed a kiss onto your entrance once more, he places more than just one kiss onto your lips, making out with you for a bit. letting him taste what he's been tasting for the past hour, the shared, mix of both of your cum.

your lips finally parting from his, your eyes still shut close 'till you feel a fist of your hair being gripped, "not done yet." is all kinich whispers, his voice a little coarse as he continues to kiss you. "all.. yours," you feel him take your hand, putting it over his heart while you both pull away from the kiss, a string of saliva being created. "and all mine, please?" he points to where your heart is in your chest.

his blunt attitude could only make you laugh, planting a kiss onto his head, and nodding to an agreement. "mmm- yeah. all yours."

"you guys are reaaaaaaalll corny! you're lucky i like your partner this time!" ajaw butts in as you laugh, while kinich simply scoffs- looking the other way and burying his face into your chest.

not as cool as my other works, and it's more cringe if i keep looking back on it, cute request tho !!!!<3333

[dumblilb]

I Could Be Enough

Vi x Fem!Reader

(Synopsis: They weren’t super close as children, but running around in the same crowd kept them in the know of each other. But years later she might be all Vi’s got left.)

(Warnings: drunk!vi, alcohol, mentions of physical violence ‘ not towards reader’, it’s mostly fluff, a little bit of angst, no mentions of physical attributes, just she/her pronouns, not proof read)

(Requested: yes)

(Words: 1,585)

* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚☆ 。

You don’t even know how it got to this point. Sitting at the booth in a gross, sticky, and dark club, watching over a girl you didn’t think you would ever see again. And maybe you were right. Cause she’s not the same girl you remember running around the streets of the under city as a child. The one who always had a bright look in her eyes as she tried so hard to live up to her father’s name, and keep her siblings safe.

But one thing was the same behind those, now dark and sad, slate grey eyes. She was a fighter. In the most literal sense. She couldn’t keep her fist off a jaw if she tried. Night after night she would cover her distinct tattoos and red hair with dark paint. Disguising herself from the public who claimed her strength as a prize. Or maybe even hiding from herself. She wasn’t to sure anymore.

But as the nights carried on the paint got messier and the drinks were getting stronger. And it was hard to watch. But here you were. Watching. So hard you thought your eyes might bleed from all the strobing lights and smoke filling the air. Any other night you might have gone to bed. Ignored the aching feeling you had, and left her to party the rest of the night away. But you couldn’t. Because there she was also watching you. As she sloppily got up with a bottle in her hand and started to walk towards the exit, the urge to follow consumed you. Because you knew she wanted you too. She was practically begging. And so you did. Meeting her by the stairs leading to her small apartment.

“Thank god you came, I thought I was gonna have to drink all alone tonight.” She slurred and you sighed resting your hip against the wall, propping yourself up.

“What would you do without me.” You smiled at her. Trying not to be angry with how fucked up she sounds. Slyly taking the bottle from her and helping her steady by the waist you walk her home.

“You know you’re so pretty when you’re mad at me.” She sighs as you push her door open. You just roll your eyes. She’s been doing this for months. Ever since her first pit match. You were hired as a sort of nurse for the ring. Patching up the people who were getting their shit rocked, and the people doing the punching. Making sure they were healed enough for their next match. And the second you saw her step in that ring you knew it was her. Sure she looked a little different. But her deep upper cut. You could never forget that.

So you causally brought up growing up in the lanes while bandaging her fists that day. How you were pretty shy but always friendly with a boy named Ekko. And he had introduced you to his friends a few times. You could tell she remembered you. But she didn’t say anything. Which was okay. You could tell she didn’t really want to be known at that point. But as time went on she spent more time talking to you after matches. Sitting at the bar just trying to figure out how life got both of you here.

But she also found alcohol along the way. And that concerned you. She would always assure you she was fine. And you chose to believe her. Even though it sometimes seemed she would look right through you. Like she wished something else was there.

But even before the alcohol, the casual flirting was always there. Comments about how attractive you looked and how nice you were to her compared to the other fighters. Claiming you made her feel ‘so special’ and not just because it was coming from a beautiful girl like you.

So as you sit her down on her small bed and pull out some supplies to remove her makeup you can’t help but shake your head at her.

“Your dumb fake flirting isn’t going to get you out of this one vi. You’re a mess.” You sigh pushing her hair back with one hand, removing her makeup with the other.

“It’s not fake and you know it.” She rolls her eyes. “I want you. Please.” She says griping the hand with the cloth in it. Rubbing her thumb across your knuckles softly. The difference between her ruff scared hands and yours now glaringly apparent.

“You’re drunk and exhausted, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bit of a concussion after today’s match. I haven’t seen you get hit that hard in a while.” You say ignoring her advances. As you’ve done before.

“I’m fine. You know I’m fine.” She reassures you. But the wavering of her eyes says otherwise.

“I know you think you’re fine-“ you remove your hand from hers and finish wiping her face. “But I see you, Vi. And this isn’t fine.” You say pointing from the bottle resting on her little table to her bruised fists.

She groans tossing her head back. And you gear up ready for a fight about how you don’t know what you’re talking about. But she rubs her eyes a little, her breath slowly becoming unsteady.

“You’re right I’m sorry.” She breathes out looking at you. The small bit of light roaming the room makes the wateriness of her eyes sparkle. “God I’m so tired and I don’t know what to do.” She cries.

You don’t even know how to respond. She’s never really cried in front of you before. She’s always been so tuff. But as she sits before you, even her toned and muscular body couldn’t make her look strong.

“I’m so lonely. All I have at this point is you. And you don’t even want me.” She continues and your face softens. Kneeling down in front of her you softly stroke her hair, pulling her in for a hug. She cautiously wraps her arms around you. Like just her touch might scare you away.

“You have me. You do. I think you have for a while now. I just didn’t think you were serious.” You reassure her. Her head nuzzles into the crook of your neck, and you can hear her breathing steady slightly.

“I’m always serious about you.” She says softly, it being a bit muffled by her position. She pulls away from the hug, resting her forehead to yours. “Can you stay please. I don’t want to be alone.” She asks quietly. Her warm breath hitting your lips.

“I’ll stay.” You grin and she moves to get up and grab a blanket. You help get her ready to lay down, removing her thick boots and setting aside the dirty cloth.

She props the blanket in your lap and she lays down. At first you just smile at how dainty she looks compared to how you usually see her. But her strong arm pulling you down next to her snaps you out of it pretty quickly.

Pulling the blanket over you both, you run your fingers through her hair. Analyzing her face one feature at a time. Her eyes seem a little more blue in this lighting. And you can finally see the small freckles adorning her skin.

“Are you trying to seduce me.” She asks with a soft laugh. “Cause it’s working.”

“Don’t get any funny ideas. That’s not happening. At least not tonight.” You say and you could have sworn her cheeks got a little pink.

“Well then you’ve got to stop staring at me like that… At least not tonight.” She jokes rolling over. Making you smile.

With her back to you, you place an arm around her waist holding her firm. You could feel her body stiffen and you try to remove your arm but she stops you. “No wait. This is good.” She whispers. “This is good.” And she holds your arm tight to her. Rubbing circles across it with her fingers. Her whole body relaxes against yours and you smile against her neck.

“You know I’m not that same girl anymore.” She sighs a little out of no where. But you get it, she’s trying to give you an out. A chance to run. You hum in response. “I’m different I think. I’m not as strong as I used to be.” She continues and you know she’s not talking about muscle, or brawn. She used to be a leader. Someone people looked up to. And now… most people didn’t even know her real name.

“That might be true. But that’s okay.” You say pressing a soft kiss to the base of her neck. “You’ve been through a lot. I think you’re holding on to a girl who didn’t know what life was yet. And you’re grown up. It’s normal to not be the same. Or feel the same.” You continue and she turns to face you. Caressing your cheek softly.

“I think maybe I can be okay. With you.” She muses. Placing a light kiss to your lips. Making you smile.

“Good cause I’m not going anywhere.”

You don’t know if tomorrow she would go back to drinking. Or if she would get her ass kicked in the pit. But tonight she was safe. And she was with you. And as she fell asleep to your heart beating against her, you couldn’t help but hope it could stay this way. Cause for you. This was enough.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Point Break

Summary: Part two to Breaking Point. Spencer, reeling from betrayal, seeks solace in you after discovering Eli's infidelity. Overwhelmed by emotions, Spencer acts on impulse and sparks confusion between you and him. As Spencer opens up about the heartache of his broken relationship, you sympathize but you are hesitant, unsure if his feelings are genuine or fueled by vulnerability.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: happy ending!!, implied bisexual Spencer, mentions of cheating, insecurities, mistrust, reader is the nicest person alive for real, the LONG game, roommate Penelope, confrontation with ex

Word count: 13.5k

a/n: hiii sorry this took a while to get out i had to keep taking breaks ,, writers block is a biggg jerk

main masterlist part one

You pulled back after a moment, your breath catching in your throat as your mind struggled to catch up with what had just happened. The shock was written all over your face, and without even thinking, you reached out, pushing Spencer back by his shoulders to put some distance between the two of you. 

"What the hell?" you whispered, your voice wavering with disbelief as you searched his face for some kind of explanation. 

Spencer's eyes were filled with a confusing mix of emotions—pain, desperation, regret. He didn't say anything at first, just stood there, his lips slightly parted as if the words were stuck somewhere deep in his throat. 

"I—I'm sorry," he finally managed to choke out, his voice barely above a whisper. "I—I shouldn’t have done that." 

You blinked, trying to process what had just happened, your mind racing to make sense of it all. This was Spencer—your new friend, your old foe, and, until moments ago, someone you thought was off-limits because of Eli. Now, everything felt upside down, like the ground had shifted beneath you.

"Spencer, what is going on?" you demanded, your voice a little steadier now as you tried to wrap your head around the situation. "You can’t just—kiss me like that. You—you're with Eli!" 

At the mention of Eli, something in Spencer’s expression cracked, the pain in his eyes deepening as his shoulders slumped. He exhaled shakily, running a trembling hand through his hair. "I know… I know," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But… they’re with someone else." 

Your heart dropped at his words, and you felt your grip on his shoulders loosen as the weight of his revelation settled over you. "What?" you whispered, your confusion giving way to a sudden rush of sympathy. "Spencer, what are you talking about?"

He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. "I came home tonight… and they were… with someone else," he said quietly, his voice breaking with the admission. "Shane. The same person you went on a date with."

The room seemed to close in around you as the full impact of his words hit you. You stepped back, your mind reeling from the shock. "Shane?" you repeated, disbelief washing over you. "Are you—are you serious?"

Spencer nodded, his eyes filled with sadness and exhaustion. "Yeah. I walked in and… they didn’t even care. They just told me we’d talk later, like it didn’t even matter."

You stood there, stunned into silence, the weight of everything crashing down all at once. You wanted to say something, anything, to ease his pain, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was stare at him, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

Spencer finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours, and you saw the raw vulnerability in his gaze. "I don’t know why I came here," he admitted softly. "I just—I didn’t know where else to go."

Your heart ached for him, torn between the overwhelming urge to comfort him and the confusion swirling inside you. You hadn’t expected any of this—not the kiss, not the revelation about Eli, not the flood of emotions that came with it.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer to him again, this time with less hesitation. "Spencer," you said gently, your hands falling away from his shoulders, "I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling right now."

He looked at you with such vulnerability, like he was on the verge of breaking. "I don’t know what to do," he whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the stillness of the room.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The tension in the air hung heavy, charged with emotions neither of you had fully processed. You wanted to say something to ease his pain, but you weren’t sure what. Everything about this moment felt messy and complicated.

Finally, you grabbed Spencer again, this time pulling him into a tight hug, your arms wrapping around him with a warmth that you hoped would give him some sense of comfort. His body tensed for a brief moment, but then he melted into the embrace, resting his head against your shoulder. You could feel the weight of everything he was carrying—the hurt, the betrayal, the confusion—and you held him tighter, as if your embrace could somehow take some of that burden off his shoulders.

"Spencer," you murmured into his shoulder, your voice soft but firm, "you can stay here."

He didn’t respond immediately, but you felt him nod slightly against you, his breath uneven, as if he were trying to hold back tears.

"You can sleep on the couch, okay?" you added, pulling back slightly so you could look him in the eyes. His face was so full of emotion—sadness, relief, and maybe a little bit of guilt—but you gave him a reassuring smile. "Come on in. Let’s get you some water."

Spencer blinked, his expression softening as he nodded again. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but the gratitude in it was unmistakable.

You led him inside, guiding him to the couch before heading into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. As you filled the glass, you couldn’t help but steal a glance back at him. He looked so vulnerable, sitting there with his head bowed, his hands resting limply in his lap. It was like the weight of everything that had happened had finally caught up to him, and now that he was in a safe space, he was allowing himself to feel it.

Spencer took another sip of water, avoiding your gaze as he processed your words. His face was filled with conflicting emotions, a mix of vulnerability and stubbornness. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said softly, his eyes flicking to yours for just a second before darting away again. “You’re such a nice person.”

You gave him a funny look, the corner of your mouth pulling into a smile despite the weight of the situation. “Of course,” you replied, patting his hand gently. “Don’t even worry about it.”

You paused for a moment, then added, "And we can forget about the kiss too. It’s not a big deal."

At your words, Spencer’s grip tightened around the glass, his expression shifting. He looked down, his voice barely audible as he mumbled, “I don’t want to forget about it.”

The statement hung in the air for a moment, the weight of it making your heart skip a beat. “What?” you asked, your voice coming out more softly than you intended.

“I don’t want to forget about it,” Spencer repeated, a little louder this time, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that caught you off guard.

You blinked, taking a step back mentally as you tried to wrap your head around what he was saying. “Spencer… you’re vulnerable right now. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His expression hardened slightly, his voice steady as he deadpanned, “I’m a grown man, Y/N.”

You laughed awkwardly, trying to diffuse the tension. “Well then, grown man,” you teased lightly, “why don’t you sleep on it and see how you feel in the morning?”

Spencer let out a small, reluctant grumble, but you could tell he was grateful for your kindness, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it. His eyes softened, and he nodded, setting the empty glass down on the table beside him.

“You’re right,” he muttered, his voice low but sincere. “I’ll sleep on it.” He paused, glancing at you with a mix of guilt and gratitude. “I’m sorry for… everything. For treating you the way I did, for being distant. I didn’t deserve your kindness tonight.”

You shook your head, giving him a gentle smile. “Spencer, it’s okay. We’ve all been through tough times. Just… get some rest, okay? We can talk more in the morning.”

Spencer nodded again, and as you stood to grab some blankets for him, you could feel his gaze lingering on you, full of unspoken words. As much as you wanted to make sense of the complicated emotions swirling between you two, you knew tonight wasn’t the time.

You handed him the blankets, and Spencer laid down on the couch, pulling them over himself. The room was quiet now, the tension easing into a comfortable silence.

As you headed to your bedroom, you gave him one last reassuring smile. “Goodnight, Spencer.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied softly, watching you go, the weight of everything still hanging between you both as the night drew to a close.

—

In the morning, Penelope groggily emerged from her bedroom, her hair a tangled mess as she shuffled down the hall in desperate search of coffee. Her eyes were barely open as she passed by the couch, her brain still half-asleep. She glanced at the figure lying there, not really processing what she was seeing.

But then, after a few more steps, something clicked. She spun around, doing a double take as her eyes landed on the unmistakable form of Spencer Reid, curled up asleep under a blanket. Her groggy mind snapped awake, and she immediately bolted back down the hall, slipping into your room with the grace of a wrecking ball.

Without any warning, she launched herself onto your bed, bouncing on the mattress and causing you to wake with a jolt. "AH!" you screamed, your heart racing as you shot up, eyes wide with panic. "Penelope, what the hell?!"

The commotion had stirred Spencer as well. He groaned softly, sitting up on the couch, disoriented and trying to piece together where he was and how he’d ended up there.

Penelope, still perched on your bed, gave you an incredulous look as she shook your shoulders with excitement. "Why is Spencer Reid asleep on our couch??" she asked, her voice an urgent whisper, but her eyes were wide with curiosity and glee.

Spencer, now fully awake, froze in place on the couch. His heart thudded in his chest as he remembered exactly why he was there, the events of the previous night flashing through his mind. He held his breath, wondering how much you were going to tell Penelope. The thought of your conversation, the kiss, everything—it made his stomach twist with anxiety.

You let out a sigh, quickly composing yourself as you tried to come up with something believable. "He… he forgot his phone at the party last night," you said, your voice calm despite the panic running through your veins. "We got to talking when he came back to get it, and then it was so late I just told him he should stay." You were impressed with how smoothly the lie rolled off your tongue.

Spencer’s body relaxed slightly, immense gratitude washing over him as he realized you weren’t going to throw him under the bus. You had just saved him from an awkward explanation, and once again, he found himself in awe of your endless kindness. He didn’t feel like he deserved it.

Penelope blinked, processing your explanation. Then, much to your relief, she burst into laughter. "Oh, that sounds exactly like something Spencer would do!" She winked at you, hopefully buying your story, before adding with a teasing grin, "Should’ve asked him to sleep in here with you though!"

You rolled your eyes, your face flushing as you laughed nervously. "Very funny, Pen."

Penelope gave your leg a playful pat before hopping off the bed. "Alright, come on, let’s go make some coffee." She didn’t seem the least bit phased by Spencer’s unexpected presence, her usual bubbly energy returning as she bounced out of your room and headed toward the kitchen.

You threw the blanket off and followed Penelope down the hall, glancing over at Spencer, who still looked a little dazed but relieved. As you passed him, you gave him a small, reassuring smile, grateful that the situation had smoothed over with Penelope none the wiser.

Spencer smiled back, the tension in his chest loosening as he watched you go.

After the pot had been filled and Penelope had happily clutched her mug, she gave you a quick hug and cheerfully bid you adieu, mentioning her lunch plans with Hotch and Jack. With her gone, the apartment seemed quieter, and the sunlight filtering through the kitchen windows cast a warm, golden glow over everything.

You and Spencer sat across from each other at the small kitchen table, mugs of steaming coffee in hand. The soft morning light made everything feel calm and serene, but in Spencer’s eyes, it was you who seemed to glow. The sunlight danced across your skin, making you look absolutely beautiful in his eyes, and for a moment, he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“How did you sleep?” you asked softly, breaking the silence. Your voice was gentle, and the concern in your eyes made Spencer’s chest tighten.

He stirred his coffee slowly, as if giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts. "Fine," he replied, though his voice was hesitant. "Thank you… for everything. I can go, really. You’ve already done too much, and I’m probably overstaying my welcome."

"Spencer," you laughed lightly, shaking your head, "slow down. You don’t have to go anywhere until you’re ready. You’re not overstaying at all. Please, relax."

Spencer let out a long, deep sigh, the weight of everything still heavy on his shoulders. His fingers wrapped around his mug, seeking comfort in its warmth. When he finally looked up at you, his brown eyes were soft, filled with a vulnerability that tugged at your heart. "Why are you so nice?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked at you with those big, puppy-dog eyes, confusion and gratitude swirling in them.

You smiled at him, a soft, tender smile that made his heart swell. "I can’t think of any reason not to be nice to you," you replied, your voice sincere and warm.

For a moment, Spencer didn’t know what to say. Your kindness, your ability to offer him understanding and comfort even after everything—it left him speechless. He felt like he didn’t deserve it, not after everything that had happened, not after the mess he had made of his own life. But here you were, sitting across from him, offering him solace and a place to breathe.

He blinked, trying to keep the sudden rush of emotion from overtaking him. "I don’t deserve you," he whispered, almost to himself. But you heard him, and without missing a beat, you reached across the table, placing your hand over his.

"You deserve to be cared for, Spencer. Don’t think for a second that you don’t."

Spencer looked down at your hand covering his, the warmth of your touch seeping into him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a little less alone.

After Penelope left, you felt a sense of relief, knowing that she had caught on to the fact that something was going on with Spencer, but she hadn’t pressed you about it. She was giving you space, trusting you to share when the time was right. You told her Spencer would probably hang out for the day, mentioning how you two had talked about watching some movies together. It was a simple excuse, but she didn’t question it—she knew you’d open up when you were ready.

Once you were truly alone, the apartment quiet and peaceful, you turned to Spencer with a gentle smile. "If you want, you can take a shower," you offered, keeping your tone light. "I have some clothes that might fit you—my brother left some here when he last visited."

Spencer hesitated for a moment, as if the simple act of accepting your hospitality was somehow a burden, but then he nodded, grateful. "That sounds nice, thank you."

You showed him to the bathroom, giving him a fresh towel and the clothes. When Spencer disappeared behind the door, you could hear the faint sound of the water turning on. You used the time to freshen up yourself, wanting to wash away the remnants of the emotional night. By the time Spencer reappeared, freshly showered and dressed in your brother’s clothes, there was a slight shift in his demeanor—he looked calmer, maybe even lighter, though there was still a cloud hanging over him.

The two of you settled in the living room, sitting comfortably on the couch. The air was peaceful, and for a moment, it was easy to forget the chaos of the night before. But there was still something unspoken between you, something that Spencer needed to get off his chest.

You glanced at him, his eyes downcast as he sipped more of the coffee you’d made earlier. His fingers tapped absentmindedly against the mug, a small tell of the tension still lingering within him.

"Spencer," you said softly, your voice pulling him from his thoughts. "Maybe we should talk about… everything that’s going on. I mean, if you’re ready."

He sighed deeply, setting the mug down on the coffee table, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of everything was too much to carry anymore. "I don’t even know where to start," he admitted, his voice low, almost defeated.

"Start wherever you feel comfortable," you encouraged, your tone gentle but steady. "I’m here to listen."

Spencer took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he tried to gather his thoughts. He glanced at you, eyes filled with a mix of exhaustion and gratitude, and then he began to speak.

"It’s just… everything feels like it’s falling apart," he started, his voice shaking slightly. "Eli, the relationship, it hasn’t been good for a while. But I kept convincing myself it would get better. I kept thinking that if I just tried harder, if I just did more, then maybe things would go back to the way they were when we first started."

You listened quietly, not interrupting, giving him the space to get everything out. You could see how hard it was for him to admit these things, how much he had been holding in.

"But it didn’t get better," he continued, his hands clenching slightly. "It just got worse. They would get angry over small things, blame me for everything that went wrong. I started feeling like… like I wasn’t enough. Like no matter what I did, I couldn’t make them happy."

The pain in his voice was palpable, and it made your heart ache for him. You had known something was wrong, but hearing it laid out like this was devastating.

"And then last night," Spencer’s voice cracked as he mentioned it. "Walking in and seeing them with someone else… I don’t even know how to process it. Part of me knew, deep down, that something was going on, but I didn’t want to face it. I didn’t want to believe it."

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "I don’t know what to do, Y/N. I feel so lost."

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, grounding him in that moment. "I’m so sorry, Spencer," you whispered, your voice thick with empathy. "You don’t deserve any of this."

Spencer closed his eyes for a moment, letting your words wash over him. When he opened them again, there was a vulnerability in his gaze that cut right through you. His face was a mix of emotions, the kind of internal storm that you could almost feel radiating from him. 

"I feel like such a terrible person," he confessed quietly, the weight of the words heavy on his tongue.

His admission caught you off guard. You furrowed your brow, tilting your head slightly as you asked, "Wait, why do you feel like a terrible person?"

Spencer sighed deeply, his gaze dropping to the table for a moment before he looked back up at you. "I was upset—angry, when I caught them, of course. But then… I just stopped caring," he admitted, his voice filled with a mixture of sadness and relief. "The more I think about it, the less I care that my relationship is over, and the angrier I feel that I let it go on for so long."

You nodded slowly, understanding the conflict he was feeling, the emotional exhaustion that came with being stuck in a toxic relationship for too long. You stayed quiet, giving him the space to continue.

"And then," Spencer continued, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant, "the only thing I could think about was coming back here. To see you." He paused, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, his vulnerability exposed. "I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, and I can leave if you want, but I need to tell you this."

Your heart sped up, your breath catching in your throat as he looked deep into your eyes. There was something raw in his gaze, something that made your pulse quicken in anticipation of what he was about to say.

"I just wanted to see you," Spencer admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "You are the only person, the only thing, that has made me feel something in so long. You’re absolutely gorgeous, inside and out, and—and I hated going home to Eli every time after I would see you."

His confession hung in the air between you, thick with unspoken emotions. You could see the honesty in his eyes, the way he had been carrying these feelings for a long time but had kept them buried. There was no denying the intensity of his words, the rawness in the way he expressed how much you meant to him.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You had always felt something for Spencer—maybe even more than you had allowed yourself to admit—but hearing him say those things, hearing him admit that you were the reason he kept going, left you speechless. 

"Spencer…" you finally whispered, your voice soft and full of emotion, but you couldn’t find the words to follow up. You were stunned, your heart fluttering in your chest as you processed what he had just told you.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his hands fidgeting in his lap as he continued. "Eli even told me to stop talking to you, made it a rule that you were off limits. Friends, not friends—it didn’t matter. They knew before I did." He looked down for a moment, clearly still grappling with the weight of his own realizations.

You sat there, still speechless, trying to absorb everything he was saying. The room felt heavier, the air thick with the tension between you two, but you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt. You could see that he was struggling, and something in you told you to let him continue.

"When Eli and I first started dating, and you came into Penelope’s life, I thought you were cute," Spencer admitted, his voice soft but laced with honesty. "I guess Eli saw you as a threat. Always. That’s... that’s why I couldn’t talk to you. I thought you would be the downfall of my relationship."

He paused, letting his words sink in. The tension in his voice, the vulnerability in his expression—it was all so much for you to take in at once. You had noticed the distance between you and Spencer over the months, but you had never imagined that it was intentional, that someone else had been pulling him away.

"But..." Spencer continued, his voice a little stronger now, though still filled with emotion, "I think you actually saved it. Or maybe—" He paused again, gathering his thoughts. "Maybe you saved me from it."

That last sentence seemed to hang in the air, heavier than anything else he’d said so far. His eyes searched yours, trying to gauge your reaction. He looked so lost, so unsure of himself, and all you wanted to do was reach across the table and take his hand, to let him know he wasn’t alone in this.

Your mind raced as you processed his words. Spencer, sweet, kind Spencer, had been trapped in a relationship that drained him, and you—without even knowing it—had been the light that pulled him out. It was overwhelming, hearing that you had made such an impact on someone you cared about, especially someone like Spencer.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice, your mind still reeling from everything he had just laid out in front of you. "Spencer... I had no idea," you said softly, your voice finally breaking the silence. "I’m... I’m so sorry that you had to go through all of that."

He shook his head, giving you a small, almost sad smile. "It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, you were just... you. And that’s what made me realize that I deserved more. That I deserve to feel something real."

His words hit you hard, and you felt your heart swell with emotion. Spencer was laying everything bare, and it was clear that he had been carrying these feelings for a long time. 

"You do deserve more, Spencer," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "You deserve to be happy, to be with someone who makes you feel... everything."

Spencer looked at you, his gaze soft but filled with intensity. "That’s what I want, Y/N," he said quietly. "I want to feel everything. With you." 

You sat there, staring into his eyes, the weight of his confession settling into your chest. Everything between you felt charged, like the world had shifted in those few moments, and you were left wondering where you would go from here. 

"Spencer..." you sighed again, your voice soft but filled with a mix of emotions. You could see the way his shoulders slumped slightly, the self-doubt creeping into his expression, and it broke your heart a little.

He nodded, already bracing himself for the rejection he assumed was coming. "You don’t feel the same," he stated, his voice low and bitter, the words heavy as if they physically weighed him down. He couldn’t even meet your eyes, his gaze fixed on the table between you.

"I–I..." you stuttered, searching for the right words, but none seemed to come. How could you explain everything you were feeling when you hadn’t even fully processed it yourself? You cared about Spencer, of course you did. He had always been kind, even if not to you, brilliant, and yes, incredibly attractive. But this—this sudden confession of feelings—it was a lot to take in all at once. 

Spencer had only recently begun to treat you like a real friend, and you had cherished those moments, the playful banter, the shared laughs. And now, he was telling you that he thought of you even while he was with Eli, that you were the only thing keeping him afloat during a time when his relationship was sinking. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

"Spencer," you tried again, your voice soft but steady this time. "I just... this is a lot. You just got out of something really painful, and now you're telling me all of this, and I—"

"I know," he cut you off, his voice thick with frustration, though not at you. "I know it’s a lot. But I need you to understand—I wasn’t with Eli for a long time, not really. We were just... coexisting. I thought I had to make it work, but the truth is, I didn’t care anymore. And then I realized the only person I did care about was you."

His words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of them pressing down on you. This was real for Spencer, but you were still trying to wrap your head around it all.

You ran a hand through your hair, exhaling deeply. "Spencer, I don’t know what to say. I care about you, I do, but you’ve just been through something so heavy. I don’t want to be the rebound. I don’t want to be the person you turn to because you’re hurt and looking for comfort. That’s not fair to either of us."

Spencer’s face fell slightly, though he didn’t look angry—just disappointed, in himself more than anything. "You’re not a rebound," he said quietly, shaking his head. "You’re... you’re so much more than that. I didn’t mean to put this all on you right now. I just..." He trailed off, clearly unsure how to explain what he was feeling without overwhelming you further.

You reached across the table, placing a hand gently on top of his. "I know you’re hurting, and I know you’ve had a rough time. But maybe... maybe we should just take a step back and give this some space to breathe. You need time to heal, and I need time to process all of this."

Spencer nodded, though you could see the sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, maybe you’re right," he admitted, though it was clear that the thought of pulling back hurt him. "I don’t want to lose you, Y/N."

"You’re not going to lose me, Spencer," you said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "But let’s just put this on pause and think about it, okay? Let’s not rush into anything."

He let out a small, defeated sigh but nodded in agreement. "Okay," he accepted, though the sadness in his voice was still there.

You sat there together, the tension slowly dissipating as the reality of the situation settled between you. Spencer had opened up to you in a way you hadn’t expected, and while the future was uncertain, you knew that whatever came next, you would face it together—slowly, carefully, and with the respect and care both of you deserved.

—

Spencer left later that day after actually watching a movie, feeling slightly more grounded but knowing he couldn’t avoid the inevitable conversation with Eli any longer. As much as he dreaded it, they needed to figure out their living situation and how to move forward, even if it meant parting ways.

When Spencer got home, the apartment was eerily quiet. Shane was gone—probably for good, Spencer thought with a bitter sense of relief. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the space that once felt like home but now seemed like a stranger's. With a deep breath, he made his way to the living room.

Eli was sitting on the couch, completely engrossed in football recaps. Spencer couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the familiar scene, feeling the anger bubbling up inside him once again. How could they just sit there, watching TV, as if nothing had happened? As if their whole relationship hadn’t crumbled the moment Spencer walked in on them with someone else?

He cleared his throat loudly, trying to get Eli’s attention. For a brief second, Eli glanced up at him, gave a half-hearted pat on the cushion next to them, and then turned their attention right back to the screen.

Spencer’s patience snapped. Without thinking, he reached for the remote and turned off the TV completely, the silence in the room now deafening.

“What the fuck, Spencer?” Eli snapped, their voice sharp, clearly irritated by the interruption.

Spencer stood there, his chest heaving as he tried to control the anger that was threatening to consume him. "What the fuck, me?" Spencer repeated incredulously, his voice filled with disbelief. "You really think you can just sit here, watch football, and pretend like nothing happened?"

Eli sighed dramatically, rolling their eyes as if Spencer was being unreasonable. "Oh, come on, Spencer. We both know things weren’t exactly great between us. You just walked in at the wrong time, that’s all."

"The wrong time?" Spencer echoed, his voice rising. "I walked in on you having sex with someone else in our bed! How is that the ‘wrong time’? You cheated on me, Eli. Multiple times, apparently!"

Eli didn’t even flinch at the accusation. Instead, they shrugged, looking completely unfazed. "Yeah, well, it’s not like you were completely innocent either," they shot back. "You were always spending time with your friends, especially Y/N."

Spencer’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you seriously trying to turn this around on me? I wasn’t the one sneaking around behind your back. And Y/N? We’ve barely even spoken outside of group outings."

"Please," Eli scoffed. "I’m not stupid. You’ve had a thing for her from the start. It was obvious to anyone with eyes. You were like a puppy with a bone, I’m sure you’ve slept with her plenty."

Spencer felt the breath leave his lungs. For a moment, he was stunned into silence, his mind racing with everything Eli had just said. It was true that he had feelings for you, feelings he hadn’t fully acknowledged until recently. But he never acted on them—he had been loyal, even when things between him and Eli were falling apart.

"I never cheated on you," Spencer said quietly, his voice raw with emotion. "I respected our relationship, even when you didn’t. But I can’t do this anymore, Eli. I can’t stay here, pretending everything is fine when it’s not."

Eli rolled their eyes again, clearly bored with the conversation. "Fine. Whatever, Spencer. If you want to leave, then leave. I’ll find a way to cover the rent without you."

Spencer shook his head, the anger quickly giving way to a deep, aching sadness. He had fought so hard to make this relationship work, but it was clear now that Eli had stopped caring a long time ago.

"I’ll pack my things," Spencer said quietly, turning away from Eli and heading toward the bedroom.

As he walked down the hallway, he felt an overwhelming sense of relief. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was free. Free from the toxic cycle he had been trapped in, free from Eli’s manipulations, and free to finally move on.

And as he started packing his belongings, his thoughts drifted to you. You, who had been kind to him when he didn’t deserve it. You, who had made him laugh and feel alive again. Maybe, just maybe, there was something better waiting for him on the other side of all this if he hadn’t ruined his chances by basically throwing himself at you.

Spencer didn’t want to impose on you and Penelope again after everything that had happened, especially not with how raw his emotions still were. So, after packing up his things and leaving Eli’s apartment, he made his way to Derek’s place. Derek had always been someone Spencer could turn to in times of trouble, and right now, he needed the stability of a friend who wouldn’t judge him or make things more complicated than they already were.

When Spencer arrived at Derek’s front door, suitcase in hand, Derek took one look at him and knew something had gone terribly wrong. Without saying a word, Derek opened the door wider, gesturing for Spencer to come inside. They sat down on Derek's couch, Spencer staring at the floor for a few moments, unsure of where to even begin.

“Alright, pretty boy,” Derek finally said, breaking the silence. “What happened?”

Spencer let out a long, weary sigh, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He told Derek everything—the cheating, the confrontation, and the end of his relationship with Eli. As the words spilled out of him, Spencer felt the weight of it all settle deeper on his shoulders. When he was finished, he glanced up at Derek, half expecting to see pity in his friend’s eyes.

But Derek’s expression wasn’t one of pity—it was pure, unfiltered anger.

“They did what?” Derek growled, his fists clenching as he stood up from the couch, pacing back and forth. “Man, I swear to God, I’m gonna kick Eli’s ass. No one gets to treat you like that.”

Spencer quickly stood up, placing a hand on Derek’s arm to stop him from storming out the door. “Derek, no, please. It’s over. I don’t want to make things worse. It’s not worth it.”

Derek stopped pacing, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. He shook his head, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I just can’t believe they did that to you, man. You didn’t deserve that. No one does.”

Spencer nodded, his eyes dropping to the floor again. “I know. But it’s done now. I just… I don’t know what to do next.”

Derek softened, his anger giving way to concern as he looked at his friend. “You’re staying here, that’s what you’re doing. Don’t even think about going back to that place.”

Spencer gave a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Derek. I really appreciate it.”

Derek pulled Spencer into a quick hug, patting his back before pulling away. “Anytime, pretty boy. You know that.”

The two sat back down, the tension easing slightly now that Spencer knew he had somewhere safe to stay. But there was still something else weighing on Spencer’s mind, something he hadn’t fully processed yet.

“There’s… there’s more,” Spencer said hesitantly, glancing at Derek, unsure of how to explain the next part.

Derek raised an eyebrow, giving him a knowing look. “More? What else happened?”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words. “It’s about Y/N. I, uh, I went to her place last night after everything with Eli. I didn’t know where else to go.”

Derek’s expression softened, his tone turning more curious than concerned. “And?”

Spencer let out a long breath, feeling the tension build in his chest again. “I kissed her. I didn’t mean to, it just… happened. I was upset, and she was there, and I just—" He trailed off, unsure of how to explain the rest.

Derek stared at Spencer for a moment, his lips pursing before he responded. “You kissed Y/N? Out of the blue?”

Spencer nodded, feeling the guilt creep up again. “Yeah. She pulled back almost immediately, and then I stayed the night on her couch. Nothing else happened. But now… I don’t know what to do. I told her how I felt about her, but I don’t think she feels the same way.”

Derek leaned back on the couch, crossing his arms as he took in everything Spencer had just said. “Let me get this straight. You’ve been harboring feelings for Y/N for who knows how long, your relationship with Eli is finally over, and now you think Y/N doesn’t feel the same because she didn’t immediately jump into your arms?”

Spencer winced at how blunt Derek put it, but he nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Derek let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Spencer, man, you’ve been through hell and back in the last 24 hours. She probably just doesn’t want to be a rebound, you know? You’ve got a lot going on right now. If she’s the person I think she is, she’s probably just giving you some space to process everything.”

Spencer tilted his head, considering Derek’s words. “You think so?”

Derek nodded confidently. “Yeah, man. I know Y/N. She’s not gonna throw you away over one kiss. She’s probably just waiting for you to figure out your own head. You can’t blame her for that.”

Spencer sighed, feeling a small sense of relief wash over him. “I guess you’re right. It’s just… I don’t want to mess things up with her.”

“You’re not gonna mess anything up,” Derek assured him, placing a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Just take your time. Don’t rush into anything. You’ve got a lot to figure out, but Y/N’s not going anywhere. Trust me.”

Spencer nodded slowly, letting Derek’s advice sink in. He didn’t know what the future held with you, but for the first time in a while, he felt like maybe—just maybe—there was hope for something better.

“Thanks, Derek,” Spencer said, offering a small smile. “I really needed to hear that.”

“Anytime, man,” Derek grinned. “Now, let’s go grab some food and forget about Eli for a while. You’ve earned a break.”

Spencer smiled, feeling lighter as he followed Derek out the door. For the first time in a long time, he felt like things were finally starting to fall into place.

—

Across town, things felt like they were spinning out of control. You paced your bedroom floor, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. Your mind was a storm of thoughts, swirling around faster than you could keep up with. Spencer’s sudden confession had thrown you for a loop, and you knew the moment Penelope walked through the front door, she would ask you about it—she would definitely ask.

But you didn’t know if it was your place to tell her. A lot of what happened had to do with Spencer’s personal business. Plus, how could you explain the confusion, the emotions you were still trying to untangle in your own head? So, instead of facing the inevitable questions, you locked yourself in your room, hoping to find some clarity in the quiet.

Spencer was vulnerable. That much was obvious. He was hurt, mistreated, and confused—dealing with the fallout of a relationship that had crumbled around him. But at the same time, Spencer was brilliant, kind, funny, and wonderful in so many ways. And now, you were left wondering: did he really have feelings for you, or was this all just because of his emotional state?

The question you kept circling back to was one that made your heart sink. Am I just a rebound? The thought twisted in your chest, a painful knot of uncertainty.

Spencer was vulnerable right now, too vulnerable to really understand what he wanted, right? How could he guarantee he wouldn’t change his mind once the dust settled? That was the part that worried you the most. You didn’t want to be someone’s second choice, their consolation prize after a heartbreak. And while you cared about Spencer deeply, you also cared about yourself.

You stopped pacing, letting out a long breath. That’s it, you thought, feeling a small wave of relief wash over you as a clear decision came into focus. If anything was going to happen between you and Spencer, it couldn’t be right now. He needed time—to heal, to process everything. You both did.

You would have to wait until you saw him again to tell him this, to explain how you felt. It was the only way to protect yourself and give Spencer the space he needed to figure out his own heart.

But until then, you would keep your distance. You owed it to yourself, and to Spencer, to not rush into something that might not be real. You just hoped, when the time came to talk, that he would understand.

You sat down on the edge of your bed, your mind still racing but at least now, with a sense of direction. You would wait. It was the only way to make sure neither of you got hurt.

—

Spencer had spent the entire week on edge, waiting for Penelope to bring up what had happened between him and you. He figured you would have told her by now, but every time he saw Penelope, she acted completely normal, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It was driving him crazy, the waiting, the anticipation. By Friday, he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know.

As the workday came to a close, Spencer found himself standing at Penelope’s desk, awkwardly fidgeting with his hands. He hesitated for a moment before finally blurting out, “Hey, um, have you talked to Y/N this week?”

Penelope looked up from her screen, tilting her head in confusion. “Y/N?” she repeated, blinking. “Why do you ask?”

Spencer felt a knot form in his stomach. “Uh, no reason, really. I just—” He trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to continue. He hadn’t expected this. He had thought Penelope would know everything by now.

Penelope raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to his question than he was letting on. “Spencer,” she said slowly, leaning back in her chair, “what’s going on?”

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to find the right words. “It’s just… I thought Y/N might have mentioned something to you. About, well, about me staying at your place.”

Penelope’s confusion deepened, and she furrowed her brow. “Oh! I mean, yeah, she mentioned you forgot your phone and then stayed the night because it was late.” She gave him a curious look, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Why? Did something else happen?”

Spencer’s heart pounded in his chest as he realized you hadn’t told her the whole truth. Of course you hadn’t. You were protecting him, just like you always did. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him. You were giving him the space to figure things out, and here he was, getting impatient, assuming the worst.

He cleared his throat, trying to play it off. “No, no, nothing happened. I was just wondering, that’s all.” His voice sounded too forced, even to him.

Penelope’s eyes softened, and she gave him a knowing smile. “Spencer, if something’s on your mind, you can talk to me. You know that, right?”

Spencer offered her a tight-lipped smile in return, nodding. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Pen.”

But as he walked away, his mind was spinning. You hadn’t told her. That meant you were still thinking things through, maybe even waiting to talk to him. Maybe this wasn’t over. The thought filled him with equal parts hope and anxiety. He knew he’d have to be patient, but the waiting was already killing him.

The only thing he could do now was wait for you to make the next move.

—

The moment Penelope sent you the text, telling you she was hosting a game night with the team, your heart skipped a beat. You knew Spencer would be there—it was practically guaranteed. The very thought of seeing him again made your stomach twist with a mix of nerves and something you couldn’t quite place. But instead of jumping at the opportunity, you felt the overwhelming urge to avoid it. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see Spencer, it was that you weren’t ready to have that conversation in front of everyone, not when there were still so many thoughts swirling around in your head.

You texted Penelope back, fingers hovering over the keys as you tried to come up with the perfect excuse. Finally, you settled on something simple.

Hey, feeling a bit under the weather. I think I'm just gonna stay in my room tonight. Please don't tell anyone I'm home, I just need some quiet time. Hope you have fun!

You knew how Penelope and the rest of the team were. If they knew you were home, they'd come barging in with concern or their usual boisterous energy, and you simply weren’t in the mood to deal with all of that tonight. You wanted peace, just some time to yourself.

Thankfully, Penelope didn’t question it. She sent back a short text, filled with lots of hearts and well-wishes, respecting your request. With that small relief, you tucked yourself deeper into the blankets and let out a soft sigh.

For most of the night, you were able to sit quietly in your bedroom, the dim glow of your laptop illuminating the darkened space as the low hum of a movie filled the silence. It wasn’t quite the escape you were hoping for—your mind kept wandering back to Spencer, to the weight of his confession, and the way you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it.

But then you heard a soft knock on your bedroom door—so quiet you almost thought you imagined it. You froze, holding your breath, hoping whoever it was would go away. But then, you heard a familiar voice, barely above a whisper.

“Y/N?”

You sighed, knowing you couldn’t avoid him any longer. “Come in,” you said softly, bracing yourself for the conversation you had been putting off.

The door creaked open slowly, and Spencer’s head peeked into the room, his eyes scanning the space until they landed on you, bundled up in bed. His face softened when he saw you, and he let out a quiet breath, almost as if he’d been holding it in the entire time.

“Hi,” he greeted, his voice gentle.

“Hey,” you replied, your tone equally soft. You shifted slightly in bed, making room for him to sit if he wanted to. “How did you know I was here?”

“I saw your keys by the door,” he explained, stepping into the room a bit more, but still lingering by the entrance.

You raised an eyebrow, confused. “How do you know which keys are mine?”

A small smile tugged at Spencer’s lips. “They have your favorite color on them.”

His answer caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help but ask, “How do you know my favorite color?”

Spencer shifted, a little awkwardly, as if the answer was so obvious that he was embarrassed. “I pay attention,” he said, his voice quieter than before. “I always have.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was thick, filled with the weight of everything unsaid between you. Spencer, with his shy, awkward demeanor, stood there in the doorway, looking like he wanted to say a thousand things but couldn’t quite find the words.

You weren’t sure how to feel about his response. It was sweet, the kind of small detail that someone who truly cared about you would notice. But it also reminded you of everything that had happened between him and Eli—the complicated mess you were both now tangled in.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Spencer,” you began, your voice careful and measured, “we need to talk.”

He nodded, stepping further into the room and taking a seat at the edge of your bed. “I know,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “I’ve been thinking about what you said… and about everything that’s happened.”

You nodded, encouraging him to continue. Your heart was beating a little faster now, but you stayed still, waiting for him to say what he needed to.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you or make things complicated,” he began, his hands fidgeting nervously in his lap. “But I just… I can’t stop thinking about how I feel when I’m around you. And I know it’s messy right now, but I don’t want to lose that.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. You had been so focused on making sure you weren’t just a rebound, that you hadn’t stopped to think about how Spencer might feel—about how genuine his emotions might be, even in the middle of all the chaos.

“Spencer, I… I understand where you’re coming from, but you just ended things with Eli. You’re still processing all of that,” you said gently, trying to tread carefully. “I don’t want you to make decisions about us when you’re feeling vulnerable. You need time to figure things out.”

He looked down, nodding, clearly understanding your point. “I know, you’re right. I just—" He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just don’t want to lose you before I even get a chance to really show you how much you mean to me.”

Your heart ached at his words, and you wanted to reach out to him, to tell him that he didn’t have to rush, that you weren’t going anywhere. But you knew that both of you needed time—time to heal, time to think, time to figure out what this all meant.

“I’m not going anywhere, Spencer,” you reassured him, your voice steady but soft. “But I think it’s important for you to take some time to process everything. You need to heal from what happened with Eli, and I need to make sure we’re both in the right place before we explore anything.”

He nodded again, though you could see the sadness in his eyes. “I understand,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I’ll give you space. I just… I needed you to know how I feel.”

You smiled at him, feeling a wave of affection for the man sitting in front of you. He was hurting, confused, but still trying to navigate everything with the same care and thoughtfulness that had always made him so special.

“Thank you for telling me,” you said, your voice warm. “And when you’re ready—really ready—we can talk about this again.”

Spencer gave you a small, grateful smile, the weight of the conversation lifting just a little. “Okay,” he agreed softly. “I’ll be patient.”

With that, he stood, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were trying to savor the last few moments before he had to leave. “I’ll let you rest,” he said, turning toward the door.

But just before he stepped out, he paused, glancing back at you. “I really do pay attention, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I always have.”

And with that, he left, closing the door gently behind him.

You lay there for a moment, processing everything that had just happened. It was clear that Spencer’s feelings for you were real, but it was also clear that things needed time. You couldn’t rush into something that had the potential to hurt both of you, no matter how much you might want to.

But as you settled back into your bed, you couldn’t help but feel a small flicker of hope. Spencer was patient, kind, and thoughtful. And maybe, just maybe, when the time was right, there could be something more between you two.

But for now, you both had to wait.

—

It had been a month since you’d seen Spencer. You’d managed to carefully avoid any events, hangouts, or places where you knew he might be. Spencer had finally told the team about him and Eli, and even confided in Penelope about what happened between the two of you. 

Now that Penelope knew, you were free to discuss it openly with her, which had been a relief. You needed your best friend's advice, and she never failed to listen and offer her support. 

One afternoon, Penelope came home in her usual upbeat fashion, practically bouncing through the door as she called out, “Oh, honey! I’m home!”

You laughed from your spot at the kitchen counter, where you were cutting carrots for dinner. "In the kitchen, dear!" you called back, trying to match her playful tone.

Moments later, Penelope appeared, wrapping her arms around you from behind and swaying you gently, her vibrant energy contagious. "Guess which genius is having a housewarming party and specifically requested your attendance," she said, her voice dripping with excitement.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried to play it off casually. You didn’t want to seem too affected by the news, even though you knew exactly who she was talking about. "Hmm… I don’t know, Pen, Jack Hotchner?" you joked, turning your head slightly to give her a teasing smile.

Penelope giggled and let go of you, moving to lean against the counter, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh please, as adorable as Jack is, I don’t think his juice box parties are quite this exciting. Nope, it’s our genius—Spencer Reid." 

The mention of his name sent a small jolt through you. It had been a while since you'd heard anyone talk about him directly to you, and hearing it now made everything feel more real again. You swallowed, trying to keep your cool as you put the knife down and turned to face her.

"He... specifically requested me?" you asked cautiously, unsure of how to feel about that.

Penelope nodded, giving you a knowing smile. "Yep! He made sure to tell me that you should come. You know how rare it is for him to throw a party at all, so this is kind of a big deal." 

You bit your lip, thoughts swirling as you considered your options. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face Spencer yet. After all, the last time you saw him, he had confessed feelings you still didn’t know how to handle.

But Penelope, ever the supportive friend, saw the hesitation in your eyes. "You don’t have to decide right this second," she said softly, her playful tone turning gentle. "But… it might be good to see him. Just to clear the air, you know?"

You nodded slowly, not sure if you were ready to take that step yet. "Yeah... maybe," you murmured, your heart still racing at the thought.

You knew deep down that you couldn’t avoid Spencer forever. The thought of seeing him again made your stomach churn with a mix of nerves and excitement, but if he was specifically asking for you, then how could you say no? Still, doubt lingered. What if the time apart had given him the clarity you were worried about? What if he didn’t feel the same way anymore?

Those anxious thoughts accompanied you as you and Penelope decided to spend the afternoon shopping, hoping the distraction would calm your mind. Penelope was clearly enjoying herself, bouncing around from store to store with a contagious energy. 

As she pulled something off the rack, she grinned widely. "This is it!" she declared, holding it up for you to see. 

You raised an eyebrow, studying it. "You think so?"

Penelope nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! It’s perfect—it’s got your name written all over it. Trust me, you’ll knock everyone off their feet."

You weren’t entirely convinced. "It’s not too much?"

"Are you kidding? It’s just the right amount of everything. And besides," she added with a wink, "you need to make an impression. He won’t know what hit him."

You blushed at the thought, slipping into a dressing room to try it on. As you adjusted, you could hear Penelope’s voice through the door.

"Don’t overthink it, honey. Just remember: you’re amazing. Spencer needs to realize what he’s been missing."

When you finally stepped out, Penelope’s jaw dropped in exaggerated fashion, her eyes wide. "Oh my god," she gasped. "This is it. No contest."

You glanced at your reflection, feeling a flutter of self-assurance. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was the push you needed. "Okay, okay... I think you might be onto something."

"Of course I am!" Penelope grinned, spinning you around so you could get a full view from every angle. "Now, let’s keep going. We’re not done yet!"

The rest of the shopping trip was filled with laughter and banter. Penelope held up different items, trying to get a reaction out of you, while you playfully batted her hand away, insisting that she was going too far. Still, it felt good to be with her, to let the worry melt away in the moment.

As you browsed more, you found yourself voicing the nagging thoughts that had been sitting heavy in your chest all day. "What if he’s changed his mind?" you asked, keeping your tone light but feeling the weight of the question.

Penelope stopped what she was doing, turning to face you seriously. "Listen to me," she said, her tone soft but firm. "If Spencer has any sense, he’ll know exactly how incredible you are. And if he doesn’t, then he’s the one missing out. You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone."

You nodded, trying to let her words settle into your bones. "I guess... it’s just scary, you know?"

"I know," Penelope replied gently. "But no matter what, I’ve got your back. Now let’s finish this day off right. There’s still something special we need to pick up."

The final stop of the day had you both carefully considering your options. Penelope tossed out a few playful suggestions, making you laugh, but eventually, you found just the right thing.

"Perfect," Penelope said with a satisfied smile as she handed it to the cashier. "It’s thoughtful, it’s meaningful, and it’s going to leave him speechless."

By the time you both finished, you felt a little more prepared for whatever came next. You had everything you needed—and now, it was just a matter of seeing where things would go from here.

—

Arriving at Spencer's new house, your stomach was a tangled mess of knots. Penelope gently rubbed your back as she nudged you forward, sensing your nerves but knowing you needed to confront this moment. In your hands, you held a housewarming gift, trying to steady your breathing as you prepared to see Spencer again.

The door opened, and all the mental preparation in the world couldn't have prepared you for the sight of him. He stood there, looking impossibly handsome, dressed in his usual scholarly, somewhat quirky attire that made him so distinctly Spencer. You found yourself momentarily stunned, heart skipping a beat, as if you were seeing him for the first time.

Spencer seemed equally taken aback. His mouth parted slightly in awe as his eyes drank you in. Your fitted blouse clinging to your chest, unbuttoned just enough to show a tasteful hint of cleavage, the black mini skirt hugging your hips and revealing your legs completing the look. The way the blouse accentuated your figure made it impossible for Spencer to tear his eyes away, his gaze lingering longer than he intended.

For a moment, the two of you stood there, enveloped in a thick silence, the unspoken words and unresolved feelings filling the space between you. Spencer blinked, realizing he had been staring, and quickly cleared his throat, but the flush on his cheeks gave him away. You felt the tension between you both, a strange mix of unresolved emotions, curiosity, and something undeniably electric.

Penelope, sensing the awkwardness, gave you another gentle push, smiling brightly as if trying to break the spell that had momentarily frozen you both in place.

"Well, don’t just stand there!" Penelope chirped. "We’ve got a party to attend!"

Spencer stepped aside to let you in, his voice soft and a little breathless as he said, "I’m... glad you came." His eyes flickered back to yours, filled with something unreadable but intense.

"I wouldn’t miss it," you replied with a small smile, stepping into his home, feeling both the warmth of the occasion and the weight of the unspoken emotions between you, uncertain but not entirely unwelcome.

Taking his position as host, Spencer led you and Penelope through a quick tour of his new home, his voice soft and humble as he pointed out different rooms, clearly still getting used to having his own space. Penelope, ever the social butterfly, slipped away at some point without you noticing, leaving you and Spencer alone as you both ended up in his favorite room of the house: the sunroom.

The sunroom was bright and inviting, with natural light spilling in from every angle, making the space feel warm and open. You wandered in, taking it all in—the large windows framing the outside world like a painting, the cozy furniture perfectly arranged to invite someone to sit and relax. It was peaceful, the kind of place you could imagine spending hours reading or simply watching the world go by.

“This is my favorite room too,” Spencer said quietly, his voice almost a whisper as it floated in from the doorway where he leaned. He watched you with an expression so full of affection that it made your heart stutter. The golden light streaming into the room only seemed to enhance the gentleness in his gaze.

Startled by his sudden words, you turned to face him, realizing for the first time that Penelope was nowhere to be seen. You and Spencer were alone. The realization hit you all at once, causing you to clear your throat awkwardly, unsure of what to say next.

“Uh, yeah,” you finally managed, your voice a little shaky as you tried to regain your composure. “It’s really nice.”

Spencer’s lips curved into a soft smile, his eyes never leaving yours. The comfortable silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken emotions, the warmth of the sunroom matching the gentle warmth that began to stir in your chest.

Spencer took a small step further into the sunroom, the soft creak of the wooden floor beneath him barely audible. He was nervous too, you could tell by the way his fingers fidgeted with the cuff of his sweater, his eyes flickering from you to the view outside before settling back on you.

"I, uh…" he started, his voice soft, almost hesitant. "I've been meaning to thank you again. For everything, I mean. You've been… more understanding than I deserve."

There was something vulnerable in his tone, something that made your chest tighten. You opened your mouth to respond, to say something reassuring, but the words seemed to get stuck in your throat. His eyes were so intense, so full of unspoken feelings, and you could feel the walls around your composure beginning to crumble. Panic bubbled up inside you. The air in the room suddenly felt too thick.

Without thinking, you grabbed the neatly wrapped gift from where you had set it on a nearby table, holding it out toward him with both hands like a peace offering. "Here," you blurted out, a little too quickly. "I, uh, brought this for you. A housewarming gift."

Spencer blinked, momentarily caught off guard, his gaze dropping to the gift before he looked back up at you with a surprised smile. "You didn’t have to do that…"

"It’s nothing, really," you cut in, eager to steer the conversation away from anything too personal. "Just something small. I thought you might like it."

The room felt impossibly small now, and you could feel the warmth of his gaze lingering on you, causing your heart to race. You needed to get out before you said something you couldn’t take back.

"I should, um, check on Penelope," you said, your voice tight but polite as you took a step toward the door. "She’s probably wondering where I went."

Spencer opened his mouth, but whatever words he had were lost as you flashed him a quick, nervous smile and slipped out of the sunroom before he could stop you. You practically bolted down the hallway, your pulse racing, feeling like you had just escaped something far more dangerous than a simple conversation.

Spencer stood in the sunroom, which suddenly felt much colder without your presence. He shifted the box in his hands, letting out a heavy sigh. He had hoped that your coming today meant you were ready to talk, to finally address everything that had been left unsaid between you two.

With a steadying breath, he peeled back the wrapping and opened the box you had handed him. At first, confusion crossed his features—it looked like a simple journal or book with a plain, unmarked cover. But as he pushed the box aside and opened the front cover, his breath hitched in his throat.

It wasn’t just a journal.

You had somehow gotten him the manuscript for The Narrative of John Smith by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the very book his mother used to read to him. His fingers lightly traced the pages, overwhelmed by the sentiment and care behind your gift. His throat tightened, and his heart swelled with an emotion he hadn’t expected to feel so intensely.

He didn’t even know how you knew how much this book meant to him, but the fact that you did—it told him everything. You cared, you understood him, maybe even more than he realized. It wasn't just a thoughtful gift; it was a bridge, a sign that you felt something too.

A surge of determination rushed through him. Whatever hesitation you had, whatever walls were still standing between you both, Spencer was ready to break through them. He was going to win you over, not just because he wanted to, but because he knew you felt something for him as well.

And he wasn’t going to let you slip away again.

The housewarming party had turned out to be everything Spencer had hoped for—filled with warmth, laughter, and the people he cared about most. It was a beautiful reflection of the new chapter in his life, surrounded by his closest friends in a space that finally felt like home.

Even though you'd spent much of the day slipping in and out of conversations, avoiding too much direct interaction with him, Spencer didn’t mind. He was just grateful you were there, moving through his house like you belonged, even if the occasional flutter of nerves kept you at a distance. 

He had faith now—faith that when the time was right, everything between you would be resolved. The gift you gave him spoke louder than any conversation could. You understood him, cared for him, and that was enough for now.

At least, he thought it would be.

As the afternoon started winding down, Spencer caught a glimpse of you hugging Penelope goodbye at the door. Your roommate was leaving, but you weren’t. His heart skipped a beat. Did that mean you were staying?

He stood, leaning casually against the doorframe of the sunroom once again, watching as you said your goodbyes. Hope surged in his chest—hope that maybe you weren’t just staying for the evening, but for something more. Forever would be nice, though he’d settle for today, just for now.

When you turned back toward him, Spencer straightened, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach. This could be it, the moment he’d been waiting for, the conversation that had hung in the air between you both since that day a month ago. He wasn’t going to rush it, but he wouldn’t let this chance slip away either.

You walked toward him slowly, a quiet smile on your face. Spencer’s eyes softened as you approached, and the air seemed to shift, thickening with unspoken words.

“Well, looks like it’s just us,” you said softly, the corner of your lips curling up.

“Yeah,” Spencer replied, his voice steady but his heart racing. “Just us.”

There was no rush, no pressure, but the electricity between you both was undeniable. Spencer knew then—he would wait as long as it took. Because you were worth it. Every second of waiting, every quiet conversation, and every meaningful glance was leading to this.

He didn’t need forever to be decided tonight, but he was ready to start.

You stood in front of him, the soft hum of the house in the background as everything else seemed to fade away. Spencer felt a knot tighten in his chest, a mixture of hope, nervousness, and something that resembled excitement. He watched you carefully, his eyes lingering on the little details, like how your hair fell softly, and how the quiet smile on your lips seemed both tentative and inviting.

“So,” you started, breaking the comfortable silence, “I figured I’d stick around for a little longer. Penelope made it seem like there was more fun to be had.”

Spencer chuckled lightly, his hands fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve, a small nervous habit he couldn’t shake even around you. “More fun, huh? Well, I’ll do my best not to disappoint.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, your grin widening a little, “I doubt you could disappoint anyone, Spencer.”

That simple sentence seemed to make him falter for a moment. He was often too hard on himself, and hearing you say something so kind with such certainty sent a wave of warmth through him.

He cleared his throat, shifting his weight. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he admitted, his voice a little quieter now, like he was letting you in on a secret. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come. And… I wasn’t sure if you were ready to talk.”

You met his gaze, the truth behind his words settling between you both. You knew this conversation was inevitable, and avoiding it wouldn’t solve anything. But now, standing here with Spencer, seeing the sincerity in his eyes and the gentle way he held himself, you realized that maybe you were ready—ready to at least try.

“I wasn’t sure either,” you confessed softly, looking down for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I needed time to think, and space, I guess. It’s just… complicated.”

“I understand,” he said quickly, not wanting to push you. “I didn’t want to force anything or make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t, not really,” you reassured him. “It’s just that… Spencer, you were vulnerable when you said all those things. I wanted to make sure you knew what you were feeling. That it wasn’t just because of what happened with Eli.”

Spencer took a slow breath, nodding as he listened carefully to your words. His expression was thoughtful, the gears turning in his mind as he considered how to respond. “I’ve thought about that a lot, actually,” he said finally, his voice steady but soft. “You were right—I was vulnerable. And at first, I wasn’t sure if what I felt was real or if I was just projecting because I was hurt.”

You swallowed, waiting for him to continue.

“But after some time… after having space and thinking about everything,” he continued, taking a small step closer to you, “I realized that what I feel for you has been there for longer than I admitted to myself. Even when I was with Eli, even before everything fell apart—I thought about you, about how much I enjoyed being around you. And it wasn’t just because of the breakup.”

Your heart sped up at his words, and you felt that familiar tug in your chest. His honesty hit you deeply, and for the first time, you could see clearly that Spencer wasn’t just reacting to his recent heartache. His feelings for you were real, and that terrified and thrilled you all at once.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. “I don’t want to be a rebound, or something you regret later.”

Spencer’s gaze softened even more, and he reached out, gently taking your hand in his. The gesture was tentative, a quiet question that you answered by not pulling away. “You’re not a rebound,” he promised, his voice full of certainty. “You’re someone I care about deeply, and I would never want to rush or push you into something you’re not ready for. But I need you to know that this… what I feel for you… it’s real.”

You stood there, holding his hand as the weight of his words settled into your heart. You didn’t need all the answers tonight, but for the first time in a while, you felt like you could breathe around him. The tension that had been building between you for the past month seemed to melt away, leaving only the possibility of something new, something hopeful.

Instead of answering Spencer, you stepped closer, the setting sun filtering through the windows creating a soft glow around both of you. With gentle hands, you cupped his face, your thumbs brushing lightly across his cheeks. Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as you gazed at him with a tenderness he had only ever dreamed of. He felt exposed, vulnerable, but in the most beautiful way possible.

For a moment, you just stood there, looking at him—really looking at him—like he was the only person in the world. And to Spencer, you were. His heart raced, the moment feeling both surreal and intimate.

Slowly, you both leaned in, the distance between you shrinking until your lips met in the sweetest, most tender kiss. It was soft, slow, and unhurried, like you had all the time in the world. His lips felt plush and warm against yours, the taste of him lingering on your tongue, and you realized that this—this kiss—was something you never wanted to end.

For Spencer, the world seemed to fall away. Everything he had ever felt or wanted to feel was wrapped up in this single moment. It was a kiss filled with the promise of everything he had hoped for, everything he had dreamed of with you.

When you finally pulled back, his eyes fluttered open, his forehead resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the soft, sunlit space. He let out a soft, contented sigh, his heart still racing as if it was trying to keep up with the emotions flooding him.

“So, uh…” he whispered with a lopsided, boyish smile, trying to catch his breath, “want to help me finish unpacking some of these books?” He motioned toward the stacks of boxes still lining the walls of the sunroom, his attempt to return to normalcy almost endearing.

You laughed, the tension breaking as the moment turned light again. “I suppose I could lend a hand. I’ve always been pretty good at organizing things.”

Spencer grinned, a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Oh, we’ll see about that. I have a very particular system.”

“Of course you do,” you teased, following him over to the boxes, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.

And as you started to help him unpack, the future didn’t seem as daunting anymore. You weren’t sure where things would go from here, but for the first time, you felt ready to find out. With Spencer by your side, you were ready to see what the future held.

—

The low hum of the bar filled the air, laughter and clinking glasses blending into a soothing background noise. You sat nestled beside Spencer in one of the cozy booths, the soft, amber lighting casting a warm glow over the two of you. His arm was draped around your shoulders in that effortless, natural way he always did now. 

Your head rested gently on his shoulder, your body relaxed against him as if you'd always belonged there. His thumb traced absentminded circles on your arm, a quiet gesture of affection, something he'd picked up over the months of being together. It felt like second nature now. Every so often, you could feel him lean his head against yours, brushing his lips against your temple in the sweetest way.

"You okay?" Spencer’s voice was soft, a private sound meant just for you amidst the noise of the busy bar. He tilted his head to look down at you, his brown eyes twinkling with affection, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah, just… really happy," you murmured, your eyes closed, savoring the feeling of being wrapped in his warmth. "I could stay like this forever."

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into you. "That could be arranged," he teased, tightening his arm around you just a bit, as if to make sure you knew he wasn’t planning to let you go anytime soon.

You lifted your head slightly to look at him, your eyes meeting his. There was something about the way Spencer looked at you—like you were his entire world, like he still couldn’t quite believe you were there with him, loving him as much as he loved you.

You remembered, long ago now, seeing Spencer at a bar, and the pang of jealousy you'd felt watching Eli get to kiss him. Back then, it seemed so far away—an impossible thought that you'd be sitting here with him now, his arm around you, his love pouring into every glance he gave you. Now, all those insecurities and doubts had melted away, replaced by the warmth of his affection, by the strength of what you had together.

You realized you'd been staring at him, love in your eyes so obvious that Spencer raised his eyebrows and pulled a funny face, the kind that always made you giggle, light and carefree. That was the thing about him—he knew exactly how to make you laugh, even in the quietest, most tender moments.

He reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a little as if he couldn’t resist touching you. "What’s on your mind, beautiful?" His voice was soft, curious, as though he could sense the depth of your thoughts but wanted to hear them from your lips.

"You," you replied simply, your heart swelling with the truth of it. It was always him—always had been, always would be.

Spencer’s heart felt like it was about to burst as he heard those words. His gaze softened, his hand slipping from your hair to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin with tender care. "I love you," he said, the words gentle but filled with so much certainty.

A soft, dopey smile spread across your face as you leaned closer. "I love you more," you whispered, teasing but sincere.

And with a deep kiss, soft and full of promise, you felt something shift, as though forever had just sealed itself in that moment. In his arms, with his love surrounding you, you knew that there was nothing more you could ever need.

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[amirasainz]

Can you please do reader is Charles and Alexandra ex but they are obsessed with her and can’t believe she dumped them, they trying to get her back but she’s moved on. Maybe only if your comfortable do Charles and Alex dark?

Alright, so this is my first time writing something dark. I hope I did a good job. Pease keep in ind that this is just a story for entertainement and nothing about this is real.

Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!!

-XoXo

In the grip of obsession

The room was spinning, a dull throb pulsing at the back of Y/N’s head. Her eyelids were heavy, her limbs weak and uncooperative. Darkness surrounded her, but as her senses slowly returned, she realized she wasn’t in the club anymore. She wasn’t anywhere familiar.

The cold, sterile scent of the room mingled with the faint smell of expensive cologne. Panic crept in as she tried to move, her body betraying her as her muscles refused to respond. Her wrists felt raw, tightly bound behind her back. She could feel soft silk pressed against her skin, but the comfort of the fabric was overshadowed by the hard chair beneath her.

Slowly, Y/N forced her eyes open, squinting against the dim light filtering in from a nearby window. Shadows danced across the room, but through the haze of confusion, one thing became terrifyingly clear—she was not alone.

"Finally awake, mon amour?" a voice broke the silence, soft but with an undercurrent of dangerous obsession.

Charles.

Her heart dropped into her stomach as her eyes darted around the room, finally landing on him. He stood by the window, his silhouette illuminated by the streetlights outside, his piercing eyes locked onto her. His usual boyish charm was gone, replaced by something darker, more unhinged.

"You shouldn’t have gone out," came another voice from the corner of the room, this one softer but no less menacing. Alexandra stepped into the light, her arms crossed as she studied Y/N like a predator watching its prey. "You knew better than that."

Y/N's mouth was dry, her throat burning as she tried to speak, but all that came out was a ragged whisper, "W-what... What is this?"

Charles walked toward her, crouching in front of her chair. His face, usually so handsome and full of life, was twisted with something she could only describe as obsession. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. She flinched, but he didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t care.

"This," he whispered, "is where you belong."

Her heart pounded in her chest as the realization set in. This wasn’t a nightmare she could wake up from. This was real.

"Why are you doing this?" Y/N's voice was shaky, fear creeping into every word. She tugged at the ropes binding her hands, but they didn’t give.

"You broke up with us," Alexandra said coldly, stepping closer, her eyes narrowing. "You thought you could just walk away? After everything we’ve been through? After all the hate you put up with for us?"

"That wasn’t your choice to make," Charles added, his voice low and dangerous. "You belong to us, Y/N. You always did."

She shook her head, her vision still blurry, but the horror of the situation cut through the fog in her mind. "You’re insane... both of you."

Charles chuckled, his eyes darkening. "Maybe. But we don’t care anymore. We tried to let you go, we really did. But you’re everywhere, Y/N. Every time I close my eyes, I see you. Every race, every podium, every fucking interview, it’s you. I can’t breathe without thinking about you."

"Neither can I," Alexandra said, her voice calmer but no less disturbing. "You broke us, Y/N. And now we’re just fixing what you broke."

"You can’t do this," Y/N gasped, her voice cracking with desperation. "Let me go, Charles. Alex, please..."

But they just stared at her, unmoved by her pleas.

"You went out clubbing, Y/N," Alexandra said, almost scolding. "Dressed like that, with those friends of yours. You’ve moved on, haven’t you?"

Y/N didn’t answer, too scared of what they’d do if she told the truth.

"You’re ours," Charles growled, his patience wearing thin. He grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to look at him. His eyes blazed with possessiveness. "You always were, and you always will be. We were too nice before, letting you walk away like that. But not anymore."

Tears stung Y/N's eyes as she struggled against the restraints. Her wrists burned, her head pounded, and the overwhelming feeling of dread consumed her.

"I don’t love you anymore," she whispered, her voice trembling.

For a moment, the room fell silent. Charles' grip tightened painfully on her jaw, his knuckles white with tension. Alexandra's eyes flashed dangerously.

"You don’t mean that," Charles said, though his voice wavered. He was trying to convince himself as much as her. "You’re just upset. You’ll remember soon enough how good we were together. We made you happy, Y/N."

"You made me miserable," she spat, her voice gaining strength despite the terror gripping her. "I couldn’t even go online without people tearing me apart for being with you. And you did nothing. You let them do it. You cared more about your careers than about me."

Alexandra's face twisted with fury. "That’s not true! We loved you—we love you. Those people were jealous, that's all. They hated that you had what they wanted."

Y/N shook her head, refusing to be gaslighted by them. "No, you loved the idea of me. But I was never enough for you."

Charles stood abruptly, pacing the room like a caged animal. His hands raked through his hair, frustration evident in every movement. "You don’t understand. You were everything to us! We just... we just didn’t know how to handle it then. But we do now."

Y/N’s pulse quickened as she saw the crazed determination in his eyes. They weren’t going to let her go. Not ever.

"You can’t keep me here," she said, trying to reason with them. "Someone will notice I’m missing. The team... my friends..."

Alexandra smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "We’ve taken care of that. Everyone thinks you left the club with some random guy. They'll believe whatever story we give them."

Y/N’s stomach churned. She hadn’t realized how carefully they had planned this.

"You won’t get away with this," she whispered, though even she wasn’t sure she believed it.

"Oh, but we already have," Charles said, stepping closer again, his hand cupping her cheek with a false tenderness. "You’ll see, Y/N. In time, you’ll remember how good we are together. We’ll make you love us again."

Her breath hitched as she saw the manic intensity in his eyes. There was no reasoning with them. They had crossed a line, one from which they could never return.

"You can fight it," Alexandra said softly, brushing her fingers down Y/N’s arm, "but you won’t win. We’re not going to hurt you, Y/N. We just... we just need you back." Alex gave forcefully gave her a kiss on the lips, while Charles sucked the skin of her neck between his teeth, leaving a hickey behind. And just like that, they left.

Y/N closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. She was trapped, bound in more ways than one, and no one was coming to save her.

[dunmeshistash]

Dear Meshi Master, is Marcille despite being much older, wiser, more experienced, more serious about studies and career (I mean this very kindly) less mature than the Toudens? In the sense that she needs hugs, praise and reassurance which she was not getting w/ Falin gone (Laios tries but he's not comfortable giving hugs). I think about this when she's crying her eyes out and/or hugging someone like a baby koala.

I think maturity level is something hard to quantify, people "mature" differently depending on their life experiences and especially in Marcille's case as a half-elf it's pretty inconsistent

There's also a difference between being someone smart/wise/responsible and having emotional maturity (or emotional intelligence idk). I'm not that knowledgeable in the subject and Marcille still has lots of growing to do in the emotional side but I don't think she's really that immature.

Needing hugs praise and reassurance and I'll even add the fact she keeps toys and is invested in fictional characters, I don't think those make her immature, tbh some people like Shiro who bottle up things instead of letting it out like Marcille could be considered more immature. Look at how Izu reacts to Marcille letting her emotions show.

Izu is still very young so she doesn't have the "emotional maturity" to deal with someone who wears their emotions so genuinely like Marcille (She's trying tho, very cute). In this situation I think Izu is the more immature even tho Marcille is crying out like a baby, cause Marcille is allowing herself to feel what she's feeling while Izu isn't equipped to deal with those feelings properly.

I think there's some aspect she's still working thru tho (which I don't think there's an specific age where you're supposed to be done working thru) and the others aspects to me seem more like parts of who she is, she cries and hugs and wants words of affirmations but it's not like that side of her impacts how she deals with important things. Marcille can be serious and calm when the situation asks for it, for example when Senshi is taken by the Griffin Marcille manages to calm down enough to think of something while Laios is in full panic, he relies on her when he can't deal with things himself.

And after that she fully takes lead of the situation. She's whiny and a crybaby but she's still "mature" (whatever that means) if you ask me. There's several other examples but it's easy to tell if you compare with how the younger characters like Izutsumi and Pattadol act.

Hopefully this makes some sense, I'll admit I don't really understand what is being "mature" or not, it's something that feels pretty arbitrary to me.

Edit: just to add, I do think Marcille has a childish side to her and that it is part of her character, her childhood had lots of inconsistency and trauma associated and she even gets the childish ear warmers in her dungeon lord outfit. That's the part I mean when I say she still has things to work thru due to past trauma and she's also just young in general.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Now hear me out,what if. What if we did get Sent back to our world. But. Our monke was sent with us. Pretty please 👉👈🥺 We gotta fuel the shenanigans of things somehow. I wanna see him get whiplash from both technology and culture shock. We've been nice to our boi for a good while,it's time to bully him finally.

When you both wake up in the middle of the city, with people standing, asking if there was a con around or something, you know that you both are in something big.

You needed to find a good hiding place, but you knew what was happening: you and the Destined One were now in your own world.

The buzzling city, the cars, the technology—everything made his poor brain scrumble. You cane from this?! This chaos?!

The smell for him is difficult to handle, the absence of trees, and the strange behavior of the people...

///

"This is...your home?"

"Yup."

Hiding in a tree, the two of you admired the small portion of the city that the park hallowed you to observe. While you remembered what it feels like to breathe the same air where you were born, Yuán Fèn couldn't take his eyes off the palace in the distance.

"Are those... pagodas?"

"Oh no, those are skycrapers. People live and work there."

"Oh..."

Everything was out standing. And the mortal did it without the help of gods or others! They did it themselves! He gasped again, his tail swaving excited.

"We should go now! ...Maybe you can finally meet my family!"

///

That's your plan...until you find out what's really happened to you.

You were wondering if the car that had crashed into you was some sort of allucination or something like that, but when you reached your home, you could feel all the pain that you hadn't felt the day of the accident.

When you knocked at your door, you guessed that your mother could feel dizzy. After your disappearance of months, what you didn't expect was her tò Just faint on your porch, right in front of you and Yuán Fèn. You both were able to bring her into her room, and after that, you started to notice a pattern that scared you.

While Yuán Fèn tried to make her come back from the world of the living, you noticed the door of your room locked; many of your photos were missing from the usual spot. And there, in the living room, a photo of you at your prom, in an intricate frame. Written in silver ink, the lines "in loving memory.".

You really wanted to faint at that moment.

///

It feels so strange looking at your own grave. You guessed that they would you in this one particular spot. It was a family place there.

"I told them that I wanted to be cremated."

Yuán Fèn was more interested in trying to decipher your mental state. You were just there, watching at your own photo. He felt so strange... so that was what Mitraya meant when he said you were rebuking everything in your real world by choosing him. He looked again at that stone block, your name carved in there... then moved away.

"Okay, I think I'm in need of... What are you doing?!"

You spotted him taking a few flowers from one spot to another.

"Playing respect!"

"To Who?!"

Then, with the small bouquet in his hand, he put the flowers in the small pot near your photo. 

"..oh ..." That was the only word that you said after that.

///

Three things were clear to you:

1) Going back to Mount Huaguo was the priority;

2) You needed to find some money since you were basically broke;

3) Need to keep the monkey away from every electrical device.

The first one was based more on a sense of morality. After all, you made a choice, and that was the choice to stay in that world full of magic because you fell in love with the destined one and a simple cane back home wasn't enough to move you. 

Not to mention that you have nothing that came back anymore, so...

The second, hard but not that much. You have nowhere to go, so you were forced to stay in a cheap and very not so sanitary motel that you both found. 

Luck were your side because that place needed someone that could clean or fix staff and you two? We're the masters at fixing staff...sorta.

But the third one...oooh boy...

///

You were drinking coffee, how much did you miss it, trying to schedule the next day of work for you and Yuán Fèn. You could clearly hear him doing something in the small kitchenette, moving staff, putting them somewhere, opening things, cutting them...

Then you heard the roar of that old blender that you both found around.

" DARLING?" You used your very sweet tone, a sign that you were expecting the worst for him. "What are you doing?!"

"Nothing."

"That doesn't sound like a -"

And there, in front of you, he putted a very strangely colored liquid, viscous, and with some strange objects floating here and there.

"What Is It?"

"A bunch of staff!"

"I know that; it's clearly a bunch of different staff."

"You should try it, then talk!"

"I genuinely want it five meters away from me."

"Suit yourself!" And then, in your horror, he proceeded to drink the staff. 

///

After days of adjusting and trying to get used back to the modern world, when you both got inside your shared room and found no one but Maitreya himself, you both got a huge shock. You don't know what was the most unrecognizable scene—the actual boy in the room or the fact that he was reading a comic book that talked about the Monkey King or the Yankees cap in his head.

And he just waved! Like nothing! 

He decided to give some explanation, but the most important was why you were sent there and how to. come back.

The first was more for the two of you. After your decision, you decided to leave your world behind, but you did know what that really meant? He wanted to know that and gave you a free way out, a small taste of your original world, and the thought that even this could sway you away from the destined one, and he received a slap on his head by you, and he admitted he deserved it. Another test of loyalty? They really believed you were so easy?!

Well, many were before you...

As for coming back, it was easy, of course! Did he not do it himself right now? 

When you and Yuán Fèn looked at each other, Happy Tò was able to finally come back to Mount Huaguo, but you were stopped by the kid.

"You have to finish your schedule this week! And, oh, won't it be better if you gave a notice?"

How the heck did he know these things?!

"Aaand," he continued, holding an old toaster, "explain to me this little miracle."

@sun-jglim @crimsonflameproxy

@everlastingmoonlightsworld @biankanoir

@miraclecherryblossomsblog @sleepingdramaqueen

@certifiedsimpinggalore @cromboloni

@masksandfeathers @cinnamonroll-anon

@justrandomlypassing @cute-angi

@luckyangelballoon @dressycobra7

@naarra @virtualexpertanchor

@phoenixeclipse-lmkau @szynkaaa

@kirax-the-lazy-girl. @sleepydang

@weaverworks @kishimiest

@marcu-bug @thepoweroffiction

@riolu4 @angryvampire

[iihandsiiheavn]

ʚɞ "can you bring my girlfriend?" OP81

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⋮ angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. word count: 1,7k

✧₊⁺ oscar piastri x carina duquez (female!oc)

summary: when oscar feels too much, but he'll always have his girlfriend to share life.

warnings: autor with an addiction to angst writing, mentions of a panic/anxiety attack, soft!oscar for the win, lando norris as a special guest.

Oscar feels overwhelmed.

Bahrain gets the hottest track of the year, a hard race to say the least. It feels like there's too much going on, almost like the McLaren driver could sense his skin burning even out of the car.

He usually holds good control over himself; a very disciplined athlete, he heard every call on the radio and hydrated just as much as he could, but the fuzzy feeling won't leave him.

Seeing bright and blind sparks where his vision should be, an anxiety wave crashing in his chest as he stumbles inside the papaya box.

It's not just the heat, being so self-aware makes him sure of that. The medical team follows him inside, just a plain sight, there are people around, but everything seems just too far away. Soaked in sweat and cold water, his heart is beating too fast for him to think clearly.

He needs to get Carina.

Also known as his girlfriend, his baby, his physiologist. Like, legally. Like what she does for a living. Oscar can't be her patient as part of the conduct, but she often helps him out with that kind of stuff, like identifying whether it's physical pain or just anxiety.

"No, I'm okay. I'm okay," the pilot waves his hands as the doctors approach, really focused on keeping his breath regular. "Can you just get my girlfriend? She's somewhere in the VIP. I really need her right now."

"I know you might want some comfort right now, but I need to check you right away."

"You can! Just bring my girlfriend. Can you bring my girlfriend?" As soon as he understood that the man in front of him wasn't going to move, he asked someone in the back. "She'll be here in seconds. I'll let you touch me as soon as she says I'm okay."

Yeah, the doctor is right. Oscar just wants some comfort right now. Carina, besides being very good at what she does for a living, is also an incredibly amazing girlfriend. Her powers go beyond what she studied for.

And heaven seems to be on their side today. One of the guys on the medical team heads out of the room, and Oscar just tries to breathe slowly and deeply.

Carina is there, body almost hanging on the half-wall of the accommodation, trying to get any sign of what's going on inside the papaya garage. Usually, he would wave to her every time he left the car, and that didn't happen today. She felt a sharp pain in her chest, worrying if something had happened.

She's right, somehow. Somebody dressed in McLaren's staff uniform came for her with a pass for the boxes zone and a calming voice, telling her not to worry, that Oscar is okay and just requested her presence.

But, well... Carina knows the boyfriend she got herself. There are not many people who can get into his sensitive space, and if she's being called, there is something sensitive happening. The Aussie girl flew down the access stairs and followed the woman into the light-weighted door, a few seconds until she could see Oscar's red face resting up, the back of his head against the wall, and his body curled up together.

"Hey, Osc." She uses her softest tone, leaving her purse and phone on the closest surface as she approaches. "Pretty hot track, huh?"

Easy to guess. In the past few months, all this F1 pressure started kicking in, the perks of driving a rocketship with such ability, being this much of a promise brought some other stuff to the table.

"Yeah." He muttered, eyes closed, face red. "Am I fine? I can't really feel my face or my hands... Whatever. I can't feel much. Am I okay?"

It'd be funny in some other situation. Oscar does look like a serious guy, like someone too calm and put-together. He tries very hard to be. But sometimes, just like everyone else, he wants someone with answers.

Someone else to think for him, to figure out why everything feels so tangled up.

"Fine as always." Carina keeps her voice low, the good kind of lie. He just needed to feel like he's in control. "Your face is just bloody red, but you know I really find you the cutest when you're like this."

"Stop it." A shy little laugh leaves the Aussie's lips, really less worried as she zips his fireproof down and reaches the sides of his neck, rubbing her cold hands. "Hmm... That feels good."

"Yeah? You're just overheated, okay? Can the doctors check you out? We just need to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah- Yeah, of course. You'll stay here, right? Don't leave, please."

"I'll never leave you. Let's just get checked, and then you'll head home."

So Oscar finally feels comfortable enough to let the other people in the room touch him. Carina stays by his side, even talks to the doctors, and fixes his hair sometimes.

"Ice tub, shower, and then you can head home, Oscar. You were great today." The last person on the medical team finishes cleaning up, standing up before waving a last goodbye and leaving the room.

"Do you still need me here? I can wait for you outside." Carina says softly, tucking his overgrown hair behind his ears. "Take your shower, and I'll get the car, okay?"

"Of course not," he whispers. "can't you stay?"

That's what she does. They follow each other down the corridors in the McLaren facility to where the drivers actually go post-race. A tub of cold water awaits, and Oscar takes seconds before diving in, their last moments by themselves.

"C'mon, Osc! Can't believe the heat got the best of you!" Lando shows up from the front of the garage, towel around his neck as he tries to keep the humor up. "You're okay? Did you get checked?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got checked." He's still with his eyes closed, someone from the staff pouring one more ice bag into his tub. "It was a whole lot."

"It was, man. It is too hot around here, and the track is even worse. I thought the car was overheating!" Lando agrees. "And hey, Carina! The best medicine is love, huh? That's what they always say."

Oscar can't understand what is happening to him. He's a chill guy, always so calm and down to earth. How come the tug in his chest hits like a hammer sometimes?

It's hard to breathe, to think, and for the first time in forever... To be quiet. He tried hiding in the bathroom, tried showering. Nothing could put the feeling away, and he already felt like a burden. Carina shouldn't be fixing his mind every time something happens. His mind keeps telling him he's supposed to hold himself together.

But it's still too hard, too much.

She's sleeping. After they went back home and after everything cooled down, literally, she was still the one to order their dinner, set the bedroom, and check on him until he fell asleep on her chest. Now he is hiding in the bathroom, making sure she has time to rest.

"Baby? Are you alright? I miss you in bed; you left a while ago."

Damn, he could swear he was slick enough for her not to notice he left.

But she does, she always does. The details are some of her best qualities.

"Uh-hum. I'll be back." His hands shake, touching his own face and trying to dry the tears.

"It's cool, don't worry. Would you mind... opening the door for me? You're locked in."

Carina is good at this, she's a pro. Oscar knows she'll be the best psychologist once she finishes college just by the way she treats people around her, but mostly him.

She makes him feel comfortable before ever going to the point. He doesn't even notice she's doing it.

Still, he doesn't want to cry in front of her anymore, at least not today.

"Osc? Look, you don't need to talk or anything, I just don't want you to be alone. Because you're not."

He could swear that's procedure, although it isn't. She's just being his caring girlfriend, the one he's had ever since middle school.

"I know." The only two words he manages to say. "I'll be back, promise."

"Would you like... would you like me to be inside with you? Or would you rather spend a few more minutes alone? I can come back and check on you in ten minutes."

That could be funny. Carina sometimes uses this positive discipline thing to get in control, and being conditioned really puts Oscar's mind in place.

Her company could be good. He doesn't overthink when he's around her.

And ten minutes can feel like an eternity. So the door gets unlocked, and he steps back.

"Hey, baby..." That's when he melts completely, face hiding in the crook of Carina's neck, arms around her, and sobs a bit too loud.

She just wishes he was smaller so she could hold him fully.

"What the fuck is going on, Rina? I don't understand! Why am I like this? That's not me!" he cries. "Everything feels so different, and I just want this feeling to go away!"

"I know, baby. I know. Things are changing. You're onto big things, big results, consistency... And you're also a public figure. You're facing new things."

"And why can't I just be like Lando? Or Lewis? Or Charles? They make it all look so easy! I just... I just want to be like everyone else!"

"Oh, so you think your friends haven't felt that way? When they went through the same? I mean... Lewis is old enough to be your father so... It's been a long time." Yeah, the humor and the way she runs her fingers through his spine. It all makes the feeling sink down. "Ask Lando, or whoever. I'm sure they faced what you're facing right now. Last year you were a rookie and now you're winning races!"

Not another word in the conversation; only Oscar's body getting heavy and the sobs becoming softer and softer. Carina has no idea how much he has slept.

"You're amazing, Osc. We will get through this, okay?"

"I love you," he whispers. "So, so much... I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You would surely get no sleep. Let's go to bed, wash your face, and go to bed." Her hands travel his back a little more. "I love you too, baby. So, so much."

[slayfics]

Katsuki breaks up with you.

1k words

Katsuki hands shook, as he let out a shaken breath. Running his hands over his face, before returning them to resting on his knees. His eyes fixated on the floor never once looking up at you.

“Katsuki, what is it?” You asked softly.

Katsuki leg shook at your question. Elbow moving to his knee as he placed his chin in his palm. Never moving his gaze.

It wasn’t a secret to you that a rift had come between you and Katsuki. The past few months he seemed to be drifting further and further away. Still, you kept your wits about you. Maintaining your same routine, loving affection, and undying patience for him.

It’s a phase, you told yourself. Even the best relationships have their ups and downs. You’d come back stronger than ever in no time, you were sure of it... But then an ominous text came.

[Katsuki] Can we talk tonight?

Now he sat on your couch in a state you’d never seen before. His eyes started to gloss over as his mouth slightly parted, still finding the right words.

“I don’t know how to say this shit,” he grumbled, and you heard the crack in his voice.

“Just tell me Kats, whatever it is we can work through it,” you said quietly.

At that, the gloss in his eyes formed into full tears. The room is so quiet the soft drops of tears seem to echo.

“You know I love you right?” he asked, glancing over slightly at you before looking at the wall. He couldn’t handle the expression on your face. You had to know it was coming. Your body looked like it was braced for a shock. Hands gripping at your seat so tight your knuckles were white.

“Of course, I love you too Katsuki…” you whispered, the lump in your throat forming. This wasn’t what you thought this was- was it?

“That’s why… I can’t lie to you anymore,” he said, wiping the tears from his face.

You had so many questions but felt paralyzed in your spot. Lie to you? What could that mean?

“It’s… not fucking fair to you and…,” Katsuki threw his head back on the couch, both hands covering his face.

“Katsuki please just tell me…”

“I’m trying,” he grumbled more tears forming, voice unrecognizable.

“Did you… find someone else?” You finally managed to ask, mouth drying out, ear ringing from the intensity in the room.

“No. I mean… not in the way you’re thinking,” Katsuki said, sitting back up.

“I don’t understand Katsuki.” You said, heart squeezing. What could he mean?

“I… fuck. Look I’ve come to some realizations recently. It’s been hard… and I…,” Katsuki broke off, legging shaking faster than before. No matter how hard he tried there just weren’t the right words for this situation.

“Please… tell me so I can be there for you,” you urged.

A final sigh left his chest deflating, “I’m not straight.”

“Oh.”

The room froze.

Your eyes darted from side to side as you processed. Katsuki stayed silent and no longer moved. 'Oh' isn’t what someone wants to hear when they come out, but he knew couldn’t expect you to be supportive when he’d just shattered your heart, the vision of your future with him. All gone.

Tears left and he didn’t care if you felt you needed space, he needed to comfort you.

“Come here,” he pulled you to him wrapping his arms around you he cradled you in his lap. “I’m sorry,” he whispered forehead pressed to you. Both of you wept.

He squeezed you and you tried to gather the thoughts racing through you. Trying to catch one and make sense of it. He’d been going through this alone for how long?

“You’ve been struggling with this alone?” you asked, hiccupping back tears.

“Don’t- don’t worry about me,” he demanded. “I just- betrayed you. Be mad at me.”

“Katsuki,” you cooed, placing a gentle hand on his face. Thumb brushing away tears. “You could never betray me by living authenticity.”

Tears flowed freely, how could you be so kind and understanding to him? He pressed a caring kiss to the top of your head. “I don’t deserve that,” he muttered.

“Of course you do.” You said silencing his self-hatred.

“You know I’d still do anything for you right? I’m not disappearing. I’m going to look out for you, the rest of my life.”

“And I’ll always be your biggest fan,” you replied resting your head on his chest.

He rocked you both, moments passed, and tears subsided.

The lingering question becomes too strong to hold back. “Is it Eijiro?” You asked.

How were you so perspective, Katsuki wondered. He didn’t answer but squeezed you tighter, “I didn’t cheat on you, I promise. I’m sorry I just… need to figure this out.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” you said relaxing more into him, “and please stop apologizing Kats.”

He mumbled into your hair, chin resting on your head. “I hate myself for hurting you, I- never wanted to do that.”

“You could never hurt me by being happy. That’s all I ever wanted for you.” You replied.

“Don’t lie. I fucked this all up. You’ve- got to be hurting don’t hold back,” he pressed. His stomach twisted. The masochist parts of himself wanted you to hate him. It’s what he deserved for throwing away all the hard work you put into him.

“Of course, I’m hurting, and I will for a while. But- I’ll be ok. And anyway, what’s the alternative? Keeping you in a relationship you’re not satisfied with? I love you far too much to wish that for you,” you said picking up his hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

“You’re still the best thing that’s happened to me,” he whispered. “I… don’t think I could have been this honest with myself if it wasn’t for your unconditional affection. So… let me at least take care of you tonight. Make your favorite meal. Whether else you want. I owe you that much.”

“You aren’t in my debt Katsuki but, I’ll never say no to your cooking.” You answered a small smile tugging your lips.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialsapphire @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99 @jays-adventure3 @bythevay @my-beloved-fandoms

[darkmxgician]

Said & Done- Part 1

After meeting an alluring stranger you fall fast, not realising that he’s about to pull you back in to the dangerous world you’ve tried so hard to escape from.

pairing: fem!reader x noah. tags: swearing, just fluff here

word count: 1.6k

story song: burning out

taglist: @sorrowsofsilence @angelsdevils @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @montgomery-929496. lmk if you want to be added to the taglist

18+ below the cut

I wake up covered in sweat. The last embers of my nightmare tugging me into a sense of fear and dread. I couldn’t tell what was real and my fight or flight started to kick in. Adrenaline began to course through my body, making me aware of every shadow in my dark bedroom. Sleep definitely wasn’t going to come to me again anytime soon, so I pulled myself out of bed and changed into my gym clothes. Rushing to get away from the silence of my home. Stepping out into the cool night air was blissful on my sweat soaked skin and I savoured it whilst I walked to my car. The streets were quiet during the drive, my ancient car stereo playing the mixtape I had in earlier, I’d listened to it so many times it just faded into the background. Thankfully the gym is always empty at 3am, I chose this specific gym for that reason, even though it’s further from my house. I had already gotten a workout in today, but the dreams that haunt me always leave me feeling restless, with a need to purge some of the energy from my system. I use my keycard to get in as reception is closed, I usually make a beeline for the weights and then follow that with a quick run on the treadmill, but tonight feels different. I need to hit something, so I make my way up the stairs, the rooms above the main floor have various equipment, and I head straight for the one with the punching bags. 

I push open the double doors and stop in my tracks. I’ve never come across anyone else here at this time before, but my luck has just run out. And it’s not just anyone, it’s the tall dark stranger who has been watching me since I started coming here over a year ago. Give by sleep token is blasting from a speaker as he does push ups with one arm behind his back. He looks up at me, through his sweat drenched hair that shields the full force of his beauty. He stops and slowly, gracefully pushes himself up so he’s kneeling, his depthless brown eyes locked on me, assessing me. My mouth goes dry, I’ve never seen him this close before, I can’t help but study the tattoos that adorn his shoulders, arms, his bare chest, and even his neck. He continues to look at me, panting from his workout that I interrupted. My palms start to sweat, “s-sorry, there’s never usually anyone in here at this time” I stammer, as he raises a brow at my accent. The stranger stands in one smooth motion, and covers the space between us in two steps. Suddenly he’s towering over me, his large frame seems to suck all the light out of the room and I take a shaky breath and look up. He cocks his head to one side, his wet hair following the movement, “don’t you usually workout during the day?”. His American accent was rich and deep, I could feel the bass from his voice in my very bones. I stopped shying away from his stare and looked up, “I-I couldn’t sleep. I need to burn off some, energy, before I can even attempt it again”, cursing myself for stuttering I manage to keep my eyes on his, the intensity of his gaze making my stomach do backflips, I couldn’t help but smile at the stranger. And when he smiled back, I knew I was done for. 

“I’m Noah”, he smiles down at me, “y/n” I reply. I’m having to stop myself from grinning, I’ve never felt this connected to someone I just met before. I could feel my cheeks starting to go red, I have to force myself to look away so he doesn’t notice. “You like sleep token?”, I nod to the speaker in the corner, listening to the intro to gods, at least I didn’t stutter again. I have to try and find neutral ground with the stranger. I need to know him, I feel drawn to him, like there’s a thread between our two bodies, pulling me in. I dare to look up when he doesn’t answer, and he’s just staring at me, his smile keeps getting brighter, his eyes almost glowing. I’ve been in here for all of five minutes and I’m losing it over a complete stranger, what is wrong with me? He reaches out and pushes my hair behind my ear, bringing his hand under my chin and forcing me to look up. “I thought you were beautiful from afar, y/n, but up close I can’t help but stare. You’re captivating”. We’re stood so close, his touch sending electric currents through my entire body. I lose every thought in my head. It’s not just physical attraction, and trust me, that’s there. If any other man had just said to that to me, I’d laugh in their face. Why did it make me want to swoon when he says it? I can’t help but lean into his touch, his hands are calloused, his fingers stroking my skin, so smooth in comparison. My eyes flutter shut at his caress and I almost purr, putting a hand on his chest for balance as I force my eyes open again. The music goes off and is replaced by a ringtone, interrupting our embrace. “Fuck”. Noah rests his forehand on mine for a moment, and he’s gone, sighing as he releases me. He stalks over to the speaker, grabbing his phone, “yeah. I told you, I’m at the gym. I can’t right now. For fuck sake, Nick. Yeah. I’ll be 10 minutes”. I realise I was watching and listening to his private conversion so I quickly pull my phone up. Opening the settings app so it looks like I’m scrolling and texting. “I have to go”, he makes his way back over to me and scoops by chin up again, more forceful this time. “I’ve wanted to meet you for a while y/n, and I believe something wanted us to cross paths tonight”, he takes a deep breath, “meet me here, same time tomorrow?”. I blink in shock, he wants to see me again? I try not to make a habit of coming to the gym at this time, but seeing him is all the motivation I need. “Okay, sure”, I smile up at him. “Good girl”, he replies, so quietly I almost miss it. I almost go slack. “Until tomorrow, y/n”, he places a light kiss on my forehead, grabs his belongings, and stalks out of the gym. What the fuck just happened?

The next day goes by agonisingly slow, I can’t concentrate on a thing. I keep checking my phone, even knowing in the blazing sunlight that it’s not 3am yet. I try to distract myself and keep busy, working on some unfinished paintings, reading, none of it works. I give in and go to my room, hoping to use sleep to carry me towards my time with Noah. 

I wake with a start, the alarm on my phone blaring next to me. 1AM. I gave myself enough time to make a little effort, working my hair into plaits and tying the ends in twin buns at the base of my skull. I curl my eyelashes and dab a small amount of concealer under my eyes, and rub in some lip liner and gloss on my lips. The time is passing too fast now, I put on my workout clothes and rush out to my car, feeling both nervous and excited.

The gym is quiet as usual, I presume Noah wants to meet in the workout room upstairs, so I make my way up. I try to slow my pace as I walk through the double doors, where 24 hours ago I met the strange man that has my heart racing. He’s sat cross legged on one of the mats on the floor, my eyes instantly find his as he looks up. “Y/n, you came”, my stomach does a flip at the sight of him, like my body forgot how beautiful he is, what he makes me feel. He strides over to me and pulls me into his arms, “I didn’t think you’d show”. I melt into him. Like I could just stay home, I’ve always been curious, and he’s alluring and mysterious, nothing could keep me from him. “I did tell you I would”, he chuckles at that and pulls back so he can look at me. All my nerves from last night have vanished, I feel confident enough to ask, “so why did you want me to come?”. My intrigue always getting the better of me. “I wanted to see you again, I thought maybe we could workout together?”. I raise my eyebrows at him. “Not like that” he chuckles again, “I’m not hitting on you, I just thought we could get to know each other whilst we train, I could use the company”. He looks sheepish at the omission. He wants me to train with him? He’s twice the size of me, both in height and width. How could I ever keep up? “I’d like that, but why me? Surely there’s plenty of guys here who could help you, who are more equipped than me”. I feel nervous again all of a sudden, I'm physically fit but there's no way I could be on the same level as him. My thoughts race, until he smirks at me, his eyes sweeping down my body, “but none who look like you, y/n”. And he grins again, as irresistible as last night. Who could say no to that? 

And so we begin. 

[shadowqueenjude]

I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS ELAIN DAY UNTIL NOW SO HERE IS A LITTLE SOMETHING I JUST WROTE:

Smile, Elain. They won’t like you if you’re cold.

Elain blew out a long hard breath through her mouth as their mother’s words came back to her. Moira Archeron had never had much time for her, always busy doting on her eldest. This had left Elain to run into her father’s arms, who had been more than happy to indulge her. Alwyn Archeron had never received much love from his first-born, too pre-occupied with their mother and grandmother as she had been, so Elain seeking parental love in him was a pleasant surprise.

While Elain knew how demanding Moira could be, at least she was invested in Nesta’s success. At least she believed in her, guided her, hoped she would be something. When it came to Elain, her advice was minimal; she mostly stuffed Elain into pretty, suffocating dresses, pulled her hair up tightly into a bun, and hissed at her to smile. Elain very much felt like a prize horse on display.

“Do you think I will marry well, Mama?” Elain had once asked. Moira had merely looked down at her, those eyes- the same eyes as Nesta- frigid as the winter snow. “Of course, Elain. You have a fine face and build, and you have grace. Some man ought to take a fancy to you.” She made a face. “The same cannot be said for your wild sister, I’m afraid.”

Feyre. She had always been the black sheep of the family. She had always been a little too wild, a little too free for their mother’s taste. While Moira put minimal effort for Elain, there was no attention given to Feyre. Elain tried to help her. She would brush her hair and put it into braids and make sure she wore her corset, and when she could, Elain tried to play with her. One time, Elain fell and twisted her ankle while trying to climb a tree with Feyre. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to try and climb in a dress, but she owned no pants unlike Feyre.

Mother had been absolutely furious; though surprisingly not at her, but rather at Feyre for “dragging her into this.” It was as if Moira didn’t view Elain as capable of making her own decisions.

Well, not much has changed, then, Elain thought bitterly to herself.

Graysen had been the only one to see her. He’d told her that her kindness was the most beautiful thing about her, not her face or her body. Elain had fallen hard and fast. It all ended bitterly when Elain was thrown into that cauldron. But now, looking back on it, Elain wondered if she had simply latched onto the first person to see her for more than just a pretty face.

As these thoughts ran through her mind, Elain sighed once more. She hadn’t had much luck here in the Night Court either. They loved Feyre and although they disliked and lacked trust for Nesta, they still respected and valued her more than Elain. They had sicced a couple of wraiths to spy on her like some kind of toddler in need of monitoring. Rather than call them out on it (Elain didn’t see the point in arguing with people who could kill her), she had simply won them over with her charm, turning Nuala and Cerridwen to her side. Although the beginning of their friendship was strange, eventually they became true friends.

But although Elain enjoyed their company, they were not reason enough to stay in this place. She would never have a place here. And much as she had been avoiding him, there was only one person who could get her out of here.

Elain closed her eyes to calm her body. Just being near her mate drew out feelings she wanted to hide away forever. It was cowardly of her, but Elain didn’t want to face it: how very much faerie she was now, how much of her humanness had been lost.

How much he affected her.

He drove her mad simply by being in the same room. She was afraid he could read her every desire on her face, or feel it with his faerie senses. She wondered if he had sensed it the nights when she’d woken up from a very scandalous dream of the two of them together.

A lady mustn’t have these thoughts.

It wasn’t as if Elain was unfamiliar with the marital act. She had performed it, even if it was just once. Graysen had insisted, begging and pleading her, and Elain, convinced they would be married soon and swept up by the romance of it all, had obliged. It was only afterwards that Elain felt dirty, felt wrong, an overwhelming sense of guilt overtaking her. She should not have let Graysen push her into it. It was the first and last time she had raised her voice on him.

“You have taken my purity from me!” Elain had shrieked, beyond hysterical. Tears were heavy down her face, and she knew she had to be red. Graysen, to his credit, looked abashed, but it was all too little too late.

“Elain-“

“I did not enjoy it,” she whispered. Her voice broke. “That was not how I imagined it would be.”

He had been too rough, too impatient, and he had only lasted about a minute or two. Elain knew little about sex, but even she knew that it ought not to be like that.

“You…did not enjoy it?” Graysen asked hesitantly.

“That’s what you’re worried about right now?!!!” Elain snarled. “Not the way you have violated me?”

“I did not violate you-“

“YOU INSISTED THAT I DO THIS BEFORE MARRIAGE! I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!”

Elain had run away, run to the one person who she knew would protect her at all costs, the person who had been more a mother to her than her actual mother.

“Nessie,” Elain had sobbed. Nesta’s sharp blue eyes had widened in concern at Elain’s words. She immediately rushed over to her, grasping her shoulders. “Elain! Are you alright?”

She shook her head, pressing her forehead against Nesta’s shoulder. Nesta wrapped her arm around her, rubbing soothing circles against her back. “Want to talk about it?”

Elain took shuddering breaths, trying to calm herself enough to explain. “Graysen-I-we-“ Another breath. “I let him take my maidenhood.”

Nesta’s other hand moved to stroke Elain’s hair. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. Nothing else needed to be said.

That night, Nesta read her stories until Elain’s eyes became heavy and she fell asleep. They slept together on the same bed for the first time since the cottage. Although Elain typically liked her space while sleeping, she had to admit that she had missed this: the closeness, the easy comfort of sisterhood.

And now Nesta wanted nothing to do with her.

Elain clenched her fists. Moira Archeron would be shocked to see it, but she wasn’t alive to scold Elain. Elain had spent far too long being afraid to be angry, for fear of upsetting someone. But she was a sentient being, was she not? Was she not allowed to get angry, same as Feyre and Nesta?

Was she not allowed to feel desire, the same as Feyre with Rhysand or Nesta with Cassian?

When would she be allowed to live?

It was a long shot, but Elain knocked on the door to Lucien’s Velaris residence. He spent little time here, but Elain hoped he would be here this time.

To her relief, the door swung open a few moments later.

“Elain?” The surprise in Lucien’s handsome face quickly molded into something like…was that nervousness? He bowed low to her. “How may I be of service today, m’lady?”

Elain waved him off. “No need to be so formal, Lucien. I just have a request.”

His metal eye whirred as his brown eye studied her intently. “Anything.” And Elain knew he meant it.

“I want to explore the rest of Prythian and the continent.”

If Lucien was surprised at her request, he certainly did not show it. He merely opened the door a little wider, giving her room to enter his home. “Of course,” he replied. “When I leave tomorrow morning, you are welcome to come with me.”

Elain smiled in relief as she looked around his house. It was incredibly tasteful, mostly decorated in the colors orange, green, and blue. It was so much brighter than the interior of Rhysand’s palace, and far prettier too. She delicately settled down on the suede couch on one end of the living room, her heart buzzing with anticipation as she realized she would be leaving this place tomorrow.

@elainweekofficial

[that-girl-cupid]

guys please

i really didn't wanna have to do this but, every single message supporting jack (which is fine I have no problem seeing his side) the problem is, they all mention hate, how we hate jack, or hate being given. Now I don't know the extent of what's being said. But every single post I've personally read, there isn't a single time where it says we hate him. Personally, jack was one of my very first friends and I've tried to stand by him during this. But I've read how others feel, I've reread the posts concerning the account with Circe. And while whole heartedly I want to stick by him, I can't. I understand that this is hard, he's told me some about his personal life and I feel for him I really really do. And I've been so worried about him during this. But at the same time, ive seen how it affects others and how it makes them feel, and how his words can come across, whether he intended them that way or not. I'm writing this because while I wasn't personally affected by this issue several of the people I care about were, and I still do care for jack. And it I want people to understand that reading jacks post about his boyfriend while it may be true he has one, the way the post was worded and I see how people took it the wrong way. I'm not standing up for him exactly but I'm trying to say while I don't agree with the way him and his boyfriend worded these things and definitely don't agree with how the circe situation was handled, I don't hate him and you shouldn't either really, he didn't handle it correctly but there is absolutely no reason to send hate

@if-chaos-was-a-boy

@stephen-the-spider

@itsyourboyezra

@braydons-world

@everett-child-of-ares

@hispanic-child-of-hermes

@nikes-best-son

@love-lightning-forethought

@daonedaonlyskh

@hispanic-child-of-hermes

@this-is-homophobic

@pink-koi-lovejoy

(please add anyone who you think needs to read this, sorry if it doesn't make much sense I'm tired)

[phatcatphergus]

Hi, you reblogged me with a lore dump about Q! Tubbo and you mentioned that you'd be willing to do a character analysis? Please, I'm invested at this point

Ahhhhh omg hi! I can't believe you came back for more lol. You shall soon be a qtubbo stan like the rest of us.

I do want to preface this by saying that this is my personal lore interpretation so it's subjective. So many people have great analyses of his character, so I recommend watching a couple streams or looking at the tag for a broad scope as well!

That being said...

I think the best word to describe qtubbo is loss.

He was brought to the island having already lost parts of himself he didn't know. Through his time on the island, he lost respect, credibility, friends, family, teammates, nieces and nephews, penpals, godkids, mentors, and himself. He never had something he didn't end up losing, whether by choice or force. He loses what matters most to him, yet he continues giving his all to everyone he meets.

He came to the island with loss and no sense of who he was or where he came from, yet he spent all of his time for the benefit of others. He worked day and night so that other people wouldn't experience the loss of what he could prevent such as items or supplies. He never wanted anyone to experience what he experienced, even when they were the ones perpetuating it.

No one ever cared about him unless it was for a reason. His relationships were transactional and needed to be because who would ever care for someone with no firm sense of self or where you came from? When he couldn't provide a transaction of care, he made himself useful, he became indispensable so that even if people didn't like him for him, they could use his skills until they didn't need him anymore.

The only time he actually felt that someone cared for him, just to care about him, was Fred. Fred had no emotions, no sense of self, and no past to speak of. Fred was someone who had no reason to hate or use Tubbo because Fred was like Tubbo. Fred was the first person who could care for Tubbo because he wanted to, and not because of his use or someone's sense of responsibility.

Losing Fred meant losing the one person who cared about him without strings attached. Anyone else only cared about him because he was useful, a leader, an engineer, a neighbor, a business partner, a babysitter, someone to steal from, or just someone to poke fun at. Until Sunny.

With Sunny, Tubbo knew better than to expect her to stay with him. He learned from his past that he doesn't deserve something as wonderful as Sunny, that he can only love and wait until she is ripped away too. If he wasn't good enough to keep Fred, why on earth would he be even partially enough for Sunny.

He mourned her loss the day he got her. He knew he wasn't the best for her, he wasn't anywhere close to what Sunny deserved, but he did his best regardless and loved her more than life itself. Sunny became his tether and the only reason for him to stay alive. Sunny needed him like he needed Sunny. Sunny was the only reason he kept himself alive after Fred's funeral. Through the jeers, through the belittlement, through the disregard for his feelings, Sunny was there and provided him with enough purpose to keep going.

Fit and Pac dating made his only sense of security start to crumble. The two people he figured would stick by his side were moving along without him. They wouldn't need him in their life because they would need each other. They don't need his friendship anymore, his usefulness has worn itself out. He doesn't see them extending a hand to him as they step forward because he's too focused on the empty voids in his past where others should be.

He tries to break them up, and even if they hate him, he can rationalize that he did it for the right reasons. They may hate him but they're stuck with him, kicking and screaming by his side. Everyone tells him that he needs to find Fred, that he's projecting his romantic life onto theirs. In reality, he is too scared of leaving the island the exact way he started, with nothing to his name and no one by his side.

His character is such a battle between what he wants to do and what he feels that he needs to do. His entire run through purgatory was fighting others for eggs that weren't even his. He spends his days working on projects for other people and picking apart his failures when others can only see his success. He works tirelessly so that Sunny won't ever understand what it's like to be underestimated, beaten down, mischaracterized, and alone. Even if the world is against them, he will be in her corner to fight until his dying breath.

He loves so deeply and so purely. He tries to compensate for the lack of it that he has received after giving it away to whoever asks. He is depressed, anxious, and on alert. He has gone through trials and events with his head high and carrying the weight of others on his shoulders. He loves and he gives and continues to even when the people he gives his love to throw it to the side.

He has people in his corner, but his fear of them leaving has already made them vanish in his mind. He's a killer and a father. An engineer and a friend. A penpal and an adversary. He is loss and he is love.

[nattikay]

A few favorite tracks from various Avatar media!

[zooweemama143]

last rb had me thinking of how lame bif would actually be as a person

[pinnamon-rolls]

Ok long post coming up, imma be venting abt autism, specifically about my low empathy and how it’s affecting me rn

So I’ve come to the realization that I don’t really care about other people. I know that sounds bad, and it’s not like I don’t love the people close to me or want them to be okay, but my “care” for other people stops as soon as I stop talking to them.

This is very much an issue for the people around me because when I don’t care*, it really hurts the people around me. Maintaining relationships is really difficult for me because I don’t think about people if they aren’t right in front of me. I don’t remember to keep in touch with people if I don’t see them regularly.

I don’t know how to change, if I even can change, because if I’m not thinking about something, how do I remember to think about it? It doesn’t help that being social takes a lot of mental energy for me. I just don’t want to hurt my family and friends.

* when I say “care” or “don’t care”, I mean it in the sense that I’m not particularly invested in knowing how someone’s doing, like if their relationships are working out alright, if they’re enjoying their new job, etc. I wouldn’t go out of my way to get that information, especially if we aren’t talking face-to-face, because I just don’t think about it.

It’s not that I “don’t care” in the sense that I wouldn’t feel anything if they lived or died (exaggeration), I “don’t care” in the sense that I don’t go out of my way to know information that they don’t volunteer to me (like I wouldn’t ask how their week was if they didn’t tell me)

[subconscious-solipsist]

I submitted my essay a day before it’s due who am I???