#the 1st gif is like a summary of the whole quote because it was too long to use all of it lmao

[railingsofsorrow]

New Traditions

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: you bring him coffee from his favorite coffee shop, he brings you your favorite blueberry muffins. it's a silent routine you've established with one another. but maybe, just maybe, you'd like something more than coffee and muffins during work hours. and maybe, just maybe, he'd like that too. 

or. . . in which this is a sequel to this blurb. 

pairing: s.reid x gn!reader

w.c: 4K

warnings/content: spencer & reader being a Simp ™ for e/o; discussion regarding addictions and intoxication; expectations being uphold; friendly banter; I love you but I'll never admit it trope (hang tight with me); self-doubts; language; fluff fluff fluff; making out.

A/N: I guess this can be read as a standalone but it'd make more sense if you read this one first. enjoy! 

navi

masterpost

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When Spencer arrived in the Bureau that morning, he did his usual ritual: place his satchel on his chair and retract immediately to the pantry to make his coffee. He couldn't function without it. Actually, he was pretty certain no one in his team could function in the morning without any type of caffeine. Some of the times, when he was the first to arrive — it's rare, Hotch is always there — he'd prepare a coffee pot, fill up his mug, add seven sachets of sugar and cream, and leave it there for whoever wanted it. 

It was the same thing every day. His routine was drab but he liked it the way it was.

Spencer wouldn't consider himself a person inclined to changes. Everybody knows that and everybody is used to it. But he's accustomed to it. He's came around to the fact that life comes with lots of surprises and unexpectancy, even if he's not fond of it, he's gotta take it and stop whining about it. 

You were the change that made him not despise surprises that much. Your arrival at the BAU was one of the best choices the department made. To the team. And to him, of course. Not that he'd ever tell you that. 

It changed how he felt listened. He was used to being brushed off by his co-workers whenever he started rambling, so much so that he begin to contain his urges to spurt out statistics in random conversations. Then, you came along and actually paid attention to what he was saying in these moments. In every moment, precisely. 

You wouldn't stop asking him about the history of the movies and the snacks they were selling during that night at the Korean Festival. It was a week ago. He wished he could come back to that day and see your mesmerized face as he explained details of the culture. 

He had so much fun. He didn't do it a lot; hanging out. Being with people was totally tangent to his comfort zone. Spencer cherished his alone time. The silence, the peace and the no-need-to-pick-up-on-social-cues part — he was really bad at the latter.

But he loved spending time with you. He'd like to do it more often. If only he was able to stop hyperventilating and shaking whenever he thought about asking you out. 

Not as a date. As friends. Because that's what you were. 

Definitely not as a date. 

That morning, when he arrived at his desk, a coffee sat upon it. Remember those changes he mentioned? Yeah. This is one of them. You started bringing him coffee from his favourite coffee shop near Quantico. And it was his exact order. 

He felt his heart swell every time he'd see your messy handwriting in the cup holder. 

“Did you know that Mr. Oscar Wilde had a photographic memory? He was able to remember long passages and then effortlessly recall them later. That reminded me of you. Although I'm sure you certainly can remember three entire books from the 1st page to the last one and quote the whole thing. Wilde would be jealous, Spence.”

Ps: I know photographic memory and eidetic memory are two different things, it just reminded me of you :)

Since the beginning of the week you had this little thing going on. He didn't know what it was, he didn't know if you knew what it was. But you'd bring him coffee with random curiosities and he'd bring you blueberry muffins with quotes from your favorite poets. 

“What's that smug grin for?” His neck snapped up at the voice, Derek was sipping on his coffee with a curious look. He was sizing him up. 

“Nothing.” Spencer smoothly covered your little note with his hand and took a sip of the beverage. Eyes shutting in delight. Fuck. How can you do everything right? This is perfectly sweetened. “We got a case?” He mentioned Penelope walking straight to the conference room, distracting himself from the obvious profiling Derek was doing. 

“Yeah.” Derek clicks his tongue against his palate, tilting his head. “Pretty boy...”

“What?” Spencer gave him an innocent look, grabbing his stuff. “We should go.”

Derek chuckled behind him, “You're not slick, Reid. I can see it!”

“What are you talking about?” He shrieked out, taking a seat across from Emily while carefully placing his cup on the table. Garcia was already preparing the images to detail the case. 

Derek pointed at him and mouthed I see you before sitting down beside Hotch, JJ taking the seat at his right. The middle of his forehead twitched slightly when he didn't see you. Were you late? Did something hold you up? No. You had brought his coffee, you must be—

“Morning, Reid.” 

He just had to look at his side. Your soft smile greeting him. He's going to have a great day. 

“Good morning,” he replied, the corner of his lips quirking up when he saw the brand sticker on your coffee cup. Seems like it wasn't just his favorite place anymore. The little bag inside his satchel didn't have a chance to meet your hands yet, he'd usually put beside your computer as soon as he arrived. 

He'd have to give it to you later. He knows you don't like having any breakfast in the morning. But you still shouldn't spend the day on coffee and an empty stomach.

Fortunately or not, it was a local case, so you didn't need the jet this time. You ended up stuck in the Geographical profile while everyone else head down to the ME's office. Penelope abandoned her cave to keep you company. 

“Hey,” she called out, not looking up from her laptop. By the long time you knew your friend, if there was one thing she could do, that thing was multitasking. Don't fool yourself thinking that she wasn't paying attention to everything that's going on around her just because she's focused on something else. Sometimes, you convicted yourself that she was a robot. 

“Yeah?” Your eyes lingered on the board before you drifted to her. “What's up?” you questioned while picking up your water bottle.

“Is there something going on between you and our resident genius?” 

Luckily enough, you hadn't drank anything yet or you'd probably have choked up with the accusation. 

“What do you mean?” You guped down the water quietly, feeling your neck heat up. Now, she was looking at you, a smirk dancing on her features as if she knew something you didn't. 

“You and Reid.” She kept on typing, and clicking clicking clicking. “What happened in the film festival. You went together, right?”

You hummed, turning back to the triangulation process you were trying to finish. There was just one area missing, you couldn't see the pattern but you had a hunch. 

“So, what happened?” 

“We watched the movie. What else is there to do in a film festival?

Penelope clicked her tongue together, “Uh-uh. I see what you're doing. But watching the movie doesn't give you that stupid smile you have plastered on everytime he's around. And you brought him coffee, I noticed. I saw it.” Well shit. “Not to mention that's not the first time you do that either, missy.” She was pointing her sparkly pen at you and you had to hold yourself back from laughing. That was a threat in Penelope Garcia's style. 

“Friends can treat each other, Penelope.” 

“Sure they can,” she nodded vehemently. “Just as people on a relationship do as well.”

The heat lifting up your neck was enough for you to curl into yourself in the chair. You pushed a photo into her hands, clearing your throat awkwardly. “I need you to find info about this guy, please. Brian Englebert, I'll go... I have to... yeah.”

Penelope's giggling was the last thing you heard as you left the room. 

Falling in love is like a drug addiction. 

According to some researches, falling in love with someone gives you the same sensation as feeling addicted does; the release of euphoria and triggering of brain chemicals like dopamine, oxytocin, adrenaline and others. Ergo, the more time you spend with this person, the more addicted you will become. 

Spencer knows all about addictions. How it can affect your brain and your life in general. He's also aware that if you just ignore it, without the rightful treatment, it will just proceed to get worse. 

Ah, there's also that. Spencer is awfully good in ignoring things. Pretending they aren't there. But when something is imbedded into his brain, continuously causing his synaptic connections to go haywire, he can't just keep ignoring it, can he?

Because looking at you from the bullpen entrance, happily eating your muffins as you surveyed some files in your desk... that made him feel something. That made his heart to want to burst out of his chest. How is this possible? Why is his face heating up? Why is his mouth dry? Is he about to die?

“Wilde was also considered a genius back on his days. I believe that he would also be considered a genius today given his literary accomplishments and the way he spoke loudly about banned topics.” He gulped down the rock in his throat while licking his dry lips. You looked over your shoulder, mid-bite into the muffin when your eyes crinckled up by your smile. At him. You were smiling at him. Were you happy that he was there? Or was he being a nuisance by interrupting your snack break? 

He couldn't stop talking and when he was about to begin another monologue, you cut him off.

“You don't believe in the genius terminology, do you?” You spoke, politely cleaning the corners of your mouth with a napkin even if they were perfectly clean. “You've mentioned it before.”

You pay attention to what he says too. How could he not fall for that?

“No,” he says, quietly sitting down in a chair that you had pulled closer to yours. “The methods to classify someone as a genius usually refer to high IQ or when one has great accomplishment in science or related areas.” He declined when you offer a muffin to him, a smile spreading around his face. “There's a lot of people who have made great accomplishments in many other areas, like music or art. They don't get the same recognition though,” he shrugged, fidgeting with his satchel. “I just think it's unfair.”

You nodded, thoughtfully, “That makes sense. I hadn't thought through this perspective yet.” Your attention lowered back to your desk and he thought he had lost your attention until you pulled up a blue post-it. His face reddened immediately. “No other word makes my mouth as tender as your name.” You recited, a warm feeling embracing your heart, when your eyes locked with his, you exhaled softly. “How did you know? I never mentioned this book to you, nor the author.”

It was your favourite book from all times. You had found it in an old bookstore on your hometown, it was your last purchase before you moved away. It's the last memory you made there. You never spoke about it. It's kind of the secret you keep to you from someone you no longer knew but craved once in a while. 

“You have it with you all the time,” Spencer said timidly, eyes nervously shifting away from your gaze. “You—You were reading on the jet once and I saw the title and I always see it on your bag when you're fixing it in your desk and—” after a sharp inhale, he started gesticulating with his hands. “Not that I go through your stuff or anything! I saw see it really quick I didn't even touch—”

“Spence.” 

“... because it's not mine! And it would be really impolite for me to do so—”

“Spence?”

“I swear I'd never purposely go through your stuff, Y/N—”

“Spencer,” your tone was soft but stern, at least to convey you needed him to stop talking without sounding rude. His lips clipped shut and his cheeks were pink with shame. Rambling. You finally got tired of it, he was waiting for it to finally happen— “Hey. I didn't imply that you went through my stuff,” you said calmly with a smile lifting the corners of your mouth, reaching out to him with your hand. You waited until he grasped yours, a silent request for consent to touch him since you knew he wasn't very fond of it. “I'm just kind of... flattered? That you pay attention. I didn't know I was interesting enough for you to notice these things, Doctor Reid.”

“You're the most interesting person I've ever met.” 

He didn't realize until it was out and then he looked down at your hands in embarrassment. You chuckled softly, playing with his fingers on yours. He's so lovely.

“You're the most interesting person I've ever met, too, Spencer.”

He blinked up at you, surprise traveling across his features. “I am? Me?” 

Fondness embraced your orbs just as your heart hammered in your chest. Spencer. There's so much you don't know. So much that you've no idea. . . 

“Mhm.” You hummed, pulling one of his unruly stands behind his ear. Spencer almost melted when your hand grazed his cheek. “You, Spencer Reid. You've no idea how much I learn with you every day and how it amazes me, don't you?” 

Spencer was out of words for the first time in his life. 

Your finger trailed down his cheek, the middle of your forehead creasing slightly. “You're amazing.” But you don't know that. You don't realize that. Why?

Air didn't reach his lungs and Spencer felt like hiding and never letting go of you at the same time. Oh, it's been so long since he felt like that. . . It was almost too great to love someone that was good to you. A healthy love — Yes, it is love, he admits it now. He can be a fool no more — It seemed foreign. The idea. Spencer never thought he deserved much than what he had and what he received. But maybe, maybe he did. Could he deserve you? 

He decided to be bold. “You—” but Aaron Hotcher cut him off and all his courage went down the drain. Seems like the universe wanted to joke with him. He was a fool, afterall. 

“Go home,” Hotch walked by, pointing at the manila files on your desk and then at you and Spencer. “Get some rest, the two of you.” 

When you looked around, there was just you and Spencer in the bullpen — and Anderson, because you were sure he never really left the precinct. You'd find all of his stuff somewhere in the pantry — Everyone must have gone home, already. The Bureau was slightly frightening when it was a deserted island. It reminded you a lot of a liminal space. 

You obeyed your boss. By the time you cleaned up your desk, Spencer was gone. Disappointment taking over your features. Well, what did you expect? It's not like it was his obligation to wait for you. He wasn't your boyfriend. He wasn't your anything. You had no right to put expectations on him.

Stepping into the parking lot, the cold breeze immediately involved your body. Too bad you had chosen to wear a tank top exactly today. It was warm in the morning! 

“Did you know that approximately 28 million people read poetry in America?” You jumped in your spot, gasping at the silhouette beside your car where you were about to get in. 

Spencer gave you a little wave.

“You...” a relieved sigh escaped you, shoulders descending. “You scared me, Spencer.”

“Sorry.” He said sheepishly, pulling at the strap of his satchel. “Ehm, t-this number doubled up in the age range of 18 to 24. It's proven that—uh, social media actually helped the growth of these numbers. It pushed people's interests into poetry a lot more.” 

You stared at him in complete bewilderment. Your mind was working fast to seek out an answer for his rambling, but you were so confused that you just stayed quiet. And he gave you a grimace. 

“I'm being weird.” Spencer nodded, “I know. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay—”

“I'm just trying to tell you something— ask, yeah, ask you something but that's what came out. I am so sorry. I should go, yes, I should—”

You leaped forward, surprising even yourself from the move. You had grabbed his wrist and quickly retracted your hand. “Sorry.” you apologized, biting your lip. “I— you can ask, Spencer. I was just a little confused.”

He let out a long sigh, his hands were shaking and they were starting to sweat too. But he told himself that this is when he stops being a fool.

“I'm a mess.” Yes, great way to start. “I'm a mess because I don't know how to stop talking. I don't understand social cues — I'm actually getting better at that — and I'm still scared of the dark. I have to sleep with a lampshade on. That's embarrassing.” his knuckles were turning white from how hard he was holding his shoulder strap. “I'm not great at letting people be there for me because I've been taking care of myself my whole life, I don't see the appeal in letting anyone in, it's too much work. My brain doesn't stop, I'm always thinking and it tires me out. Sometimes I wish it all went silent. I don't have a favourite book, I've read many great ones and I find it unfair with the authors to just choose one. So I don't.” For the first time since he started talking, he breathed in. You took a step forward, expecting him to just crumble down in front of you. Where was he getting with this? You wanted so badly to hug him but you didn't know if he wanted it and you weren't given an opening to ask. He didn't let you. “I don't know how to love.” That made you frown. Before you could retort, he carried on. “I've learned there's no pattern for it and people are different everywhere. I can't plan it, I can't see the numbers. I can't control people because they aren't meant to be controlled.”

Your eyes softened. “No, no they aren't, Spence. And it's okay, you know? You don't have to plan everything.” you finally spoke as he let you. But he didn't seem to be finished so you remained quiet. You didn't expect him to take your hand in his, to which he chuckled nervously at your startled reaction. 

“But I think... I think I'm starting to love you.” What was breathing? You never learned. “I'm not sure if that's the right thing to say when I'm trying to ask you out—”

“You want to ask me out?” The failed tone made his face fall and you shook your head vehemently, pulling him towards you. “That's not how I meant it! I just— God, Spencer. Do you want to give me a heart attack?” you exclaimed. “I wasn't expecting this.”

He frowned, looking down at your hands to avoid looking into your eyes. “What were you expecting?”

“Rejection,” you said, earning a look of confusion. Then, enlightenment and them disbelief. It was cute to watch him tech the conclusion. “It was a clear setting in my head so I never tried.”

“Why would I ever reject you? I've lov— I've had a crush on you since the moment you stepped into my sight.” Spencer added, covering his slip-up but you noticed it. You didn't comment on it, you'd wait for the right time. “Do you—does that mean that you feel the same?”

A breathy laugh left your lips. “Oh, Spence.” you approached him slowly, hand raising to his cheek. He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut and you smiled. “I feel more than the same. I feel everything for you.” And I'm starting to love you too.

His eyelashes tinkled against your hand before he lifted his gaze to you, he was trying to avoid breathing just like you were. Afraid this moment would be lost in the wind by a single action. Spencer's eyes drifted down to your mouth.

“Can I—”

“Do it.”

Your lips didn't crashed together. They met in the middle, carefully joining into one space. It didn't felt as if you've been waiting for this — the both of you — it was a perfect pace. That until your body was being pressed against your car and his hands were roaming all over you. You needed to breathe, as much as you didn't want to.

“Hi.” You whispered, cracking a smile as you stared down at his swollen lips. Your hands pressed against his chest. 

He sighed, burying his face into the croak of your neck. “Hi.”

A chuckle made your body shake slightly and his hold on you tightened. 

“You just kissed me like that and you're suddenly shy?” You teased, fingers caressing the back of his neck. “Is that all an act to make me fall for you? It's working.”

“Shut up,” he mumbled with a shake of his head, leaning back to meet your eyes. You studied the glint in his hazel orbs with a warm feeling spreading on your chest. “I've just— I've wanted to do that for a long time.”

You quickly peck his lips, cupping his face as your features turned serious. Even if you couldn't stop smiling. 

“I've wanted to do that just as long, Spencer. Trust me.”

You know when wine makes you less inhibited? A few too many glasses can make you less serious, less controlled. Alcohol causes the oxytocin levels of one's body to increase, which is why people tend to feel more confident and comfortable while drunk. Spencer understood now all of those researches that talked about how being in love can make you feel as if you're drunk. Because he was drunk and he was completely addicted to you at that moment. 

“Ask the question, Doctor Reid.” You traced the tip of his nose and chuckled as he scrunched it.

“Ask what question?”

“The one you came after me for.”

“Oh.” you were able to feel his fingers nervously shifting against the exposed skin of your tank top. “I... Mhm.” He gulped, gaze meeting yours apprehensively. “Would you like to go on a date... with me? You don't have to say yes. Don't feel obliged to because—”

“Because you just took all my breath away?” You learnt that you loved to make him blush. “I'd love to go on a date with you, Spencer.” you said softly. 

His eyes widened in surprise, “Really?

“Yes.” you assured him, tucking a curl behind his ear. “So, is there another film festival I don't know about?”

His eyes brightened in excitement and you knew he was about to talk your ear off about something. And you couldn't wait for him to start. That was something you could easily get addicted to: his ramblings and his kisses. 

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A/N: anybody recognise the book quote on the blue post-it? 👀

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sources: [1] [2]

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taglist: @lilyviolets

[heylookafanfic]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The reader is college aged, so about 19-26 years old :). I’m also going to try my best with making all my imagines gender neutral! I might accidentally forget in the future so, please don’t hesitate to remind me via inbox! Enjoy!

Pairing: Jim Hopper x Reader,  Robin x Reader

brief summary: You and Hopper are dating but after a conversation with Robin at work, you start to feel a bit insecure bc of the slight age gap in your relationship.

word count: 1,911 words requested: no, this one came to mind warnings: age gap, mention of abuse, mention of anxiety, mention of depression (drinking and smoking as a coping mechanism), but mainly fluff!

You worked at Scoops Ahoy with Steve and Robin as a summer gig. College is expensive and textbooks aren’t going to pay for themselves. You actually enjoyed working in there because it was in the mall which meant after you got off for the night, you got to grab a large piece of gooey pizza from the food court. The absolute highlight of your day.

12:45pm - Lunch time.

Steve offered to stay out front and sell ice cream while you and Robin ate lunch in the food court. You sat down and began eating a bagged lunch that Hop packed you.

“What’s that say? Robin asked

There was a Post-It note taped to the side of your lunch

She pulled it off and mockingly read: "Have a great day pumpkin!”

“Pumpkin???” she chuckled

“What? Your mom doesn’t call you little pet names?” you defensively joked

The note was obviously from Hop but you  quickly played it off like your mom wrote it.

“My mom and I are on a first name basis - the only thing she calls me is Robin” she chuckled

“You should call her Batman so you guys will be Batman and Robin” you laughed

“Yeah, never happen– woah”

Robin looked past you which made you turn around

“What?” you asked

“Tammy Thompson. Floral romper. Next to Taco Bell”

“I see her but, what about her?”

“ ‘Grade school crush’ Tammy Thompson”

“OH” you said as you caught on

“Dude, she got hot! Like, she was always cute in grade school but she’s gorgeous”

“Is she still your type?

"I don’t know. I don’t really have a type Y/N”

“I find that hard to believe. You think Phoebe Cates is– and I quote, ’outrageously hot’ ” you joke

“SHE IS!” Robin laughs

“What about you Y/N? You got a type?”

“Not really. If the right person comes along, then whatever happens, happens” you shrugged

“You liar, I see you hangin’ around that sheriff dude all the time. You can’t tell me you don’t have the hots for him”

“What?! No! Never in a million years. Hopper’s a family friend and only a family friend”

“Are you sure about that because, every time he stops by the shop, I see the way you make googly eyes at him” she said

“Googly eyes? Maybe that’s you making googly eyes at him Robin!” you laughed

“I like girls, remember?” she laughed

“Well, that’s good news because I was about to say, he looks quite a bit older than you” she continued

You continued eating your lunch but still listened to what Robin was saying

“Like, imagine dating some dude old enough to be your dad. Like, he’d hold your hand while you cross the street and he’d read a bedtime story before bed and you gotta get permission to leave the house and think about what it be like having– christ, I’m gonna vomit!” she laughed

You were secretly hurt by what Robin said because little did she know, she was right about you and Hopper except it’s not a crush– you and Jim are going on 8 months in a serious relationship. It all started after fighting off the demidogs with the kids, Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, and Hopper. Jim offered you to stay with him and El until things died down but you declined because you still had college courses to take care of. Although lab experiments are pretty much running rampid through Hawkins, school wasn’t going to close down for a snow day, let alone Demidogs. College was 2 hours away from Hawkins but that never stopped Hop from driving the distance to “check in” on you. Flat tire? Hop was on the way. Need a space heater for your dorm? Hop wouldn’t let you spend a dime on buying one, he’d be on his way with one in the back of the truck and maybe a little homemade meal prepped by yours truly. Basically, he found any excuse to come and see you. After a heart-to-heart one day after ranting about being a bit homesick, he asked you to move in with him and El.

*Flashback*

“You’ll be in Hawkins and even if it means waking up at the crack of dawn to drive you to class, it’ll be worth it.” he said

“Hop, I don’t want to inconvenience you at all. I mean, it’s a 2 hour drive there and back, that’s a lot of gas, you still have to go to work and is El really going to be okay by herself for a few hours?” you questioned

“Gas isn’t a problem, the truck uses it regardless of where I’m going, and yes, El will be perfectly fine. The kid survived this whole time without me and did you forget she has–”

“telekinesis” you both said

After saying your good byes to your dorm mate and packing your things, you were officially a resident of casa de Hopper. He was thrilled that he’d get to see you everyday. Nothing was official yet but he had a hunch that maybe things would move a long a bit. He apologized for not having a room for you but you didn’t mind the little area of the cabin he prepared for you. You had feelings for him from the jump but after seeing him out of uniform and being an amazing dad to El, you were absolutely sold. Being able to see Hop put this whole 'tough guy’ persona away behind closed doors and being vulnerable at times, had you wishing he’d actually ask you out.

One night, you were sitting on the porch, letting the sounds of the surrounding woods serenade you, when he sat beside you. He brought you a coffee and just sat in silence. The way you looked as you admired the stars– you literally had a twinkle in your eye. Taking a deep breath, he went for it. The man just full on let his heart out to you before quickly regretting it. You looked at him and chuckled. In that moment, he was sure he ruined your friendship, you’d want to move out and never speak to him again. You told him that you have the same feelings for him but never had the courage to say anything. He let out a sigh of relief and cracked the biggest smile. Things went quiet again  until he asked if he could kiss you (consent first!). You nodded and you two lovebirds did a passionate but sweet kiss.That smile quickly went away. He pulled back and took a breath. You asked him what was wrong and he simply said

“It’s not right”

“What?”

“Us”

“Huh?”

“Me and you Y/N. I feel like I took advantage of you”

“What?! No, of course not. In what way?” you asked

“You’re in your 20’s, I’m in my 40’s. There’s an age gap”

“Okay– I don’t see how that’s a problem though”

“When everyone sees us, they’re going to think I’m only using you for sex. Come on, you know if a guy my age is with someone your age, there’s obviously something going on there. The younger person is never the 'secretary’ or 'assistant’.” he said

“Hop, are we or are we not 2 consenting adults?”

“Yeah”

“Do we both have honest mutual feelings for each other?”

He nodded his head

“So, what does it matter what everyone else thinks? We’re both happy. I haven’t been truly happy in a while but when you’re around, the world isn’t so bad” you said

He cracked a smile again.

“Listen, if it makes you feel better we don’t have to tell anyone about us. We can tell them when we’re ready. Deal?” you continued

He put his pinky finger out.

“Oh, so we’re pinky promising now?” you chuckled

“I guess you can say we’re getting pretty serious” he laughed

*End of flashback*

7:00pm– Closing Time

Hop pulled up to the front of the mall and waited for you.

7:00 was his favorite time of the day because that meant he got to see his whole world walk out of the doors of the Starcourt Mall every day. He was blasting “You Make My Dreams” by Hall & Oats with the windows rolled up. It was the song to your realationship but, he’d rather be caught dead than be caught listening to Hall & Oats.

You walked through the doors, yanking off your “AHOY” hat when you hear

“Y/N!”

Getting in the car, you plop down in the passenger side and put your seatbelt on.

Usually “You Make My Dreams” would have you dancing in your seat but you were offaly quiet.

“You okay?” he asked as he turn the music down

“Yeah”

“Now, when you say 'yeah’ ,you’re obviously lying. Seriously, is everything okay?”

You sighed

“Remember when we 1st got together, and we talked about our age?”

“Mhm”

“Robin and I were talking and she mentioned how dating a 'guy old enough to be your dad’ is gross.”

“Did you tell her about us?!” he panicked

“No, of course not. She brought age gaps up when we were talking about crushes and I have anxiety over it now. Are we–”

Hop put his finger up to his lip and shh’d you. He knew you overthink too much and that lead to your anxiety triggering. He took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over yours.

“Y/N, the minute I laid my eyes on you–”

He paused before choking up a bit

“–I felt the same feeling I felt when I first met Diane. After Sarah passed, we divorced and I never thought I’d be happy again. I turned to cigs and alcohol for help but I dug myself deeper in this hole. Meeting Joyce gave me hope, but I saw how happy she was with Bob and– I wanted what she had. Coming home to someone who gives a damn about you every day. All the stress from fighting the demagorgon and being a dad again, I was ready to throw in the towel. Then, I met you. You were so laidback and carefree and had this aura I can’t describe. You always knew how to light up a room. When I got to know you better and you told me about the hell your dad put you and your mom through, I saw how strong you were and I needed that in my life. I needed someone who can keep me grounded when life becomes too much. That was you. You went back to college and I felt my life falling apart again. That’s why I came to see you so much. When you said you wanted to move in, I drove home that night on top of the world. I told El and we drank hot chocolate the whole night as a celebration. You wanna know the best part, that night we started dating was the absolute best night I had in years. I felt like kid again. Like, my playground crush just said yes to swinging together. Y/N, you are the best thing to happen to me in a long time. Like you said, 'what does it matter what everyone else thinks? We’re both happy’. ”

He kissed you and that kiss had to be at least a minute long.

“You feel better?” he chuckled

“No” you said

“Seriously?”

“I’m kidding, yes I feel better” you chuckled

“Good, now let’s go home” he said with a side smile