I have a few ground rules that I want to establish, so stick with me through this, I promise it won’t be too long!
Requests will always remain open unless you guys are notified otherwise, so don’t be afraid to send asks my way!
Please allow a few days to a week for your request to be filled! If I don’t respond with at least a confirmation that I’ve received your ask within that timeline, then feel free to send it again!
This is an “x reader” blog. Maybe in the future I’ll expand to OC’s and ships but for now “x reader” is my specialty.
I don’t write explicit smut. While some pieces may in fact have some R-rated content, it will be light and not as in depth. Once again, maybe in the future when I’m a little more comfortable with Spencer’s character I’ll explore that territory, but for now this is a smut free blog.
I won’t write purposely triggering content. I am not comfortable with that material. If this isn’t clear then send me an ask with your questions and I’ll clarify as best as I can!
I am open to headcanon requests as well, though I mainly specialize in prose!
That’s all! I hope you enjoy your time on my blog!
driving your lover home, kissing them goodbye before they leave the car
dropping a demanding ''kiss me'' after pulling back from a passionate kiss, both of you trying to collect your breaths
your lover kisses your knuckles while comforting you
pretending you're going to kiss your best friend to see how they're going to react, they grab your face and kiss you back
pulling your lover into your arms, kissing their cheek as you comfort them
kissing your lover's tears away
grabbing your lover by the waist, pulling them into a passionate kiss
you haven't seen your lover in a while. they're back in town, and surprises you by showing up outside your door. having barely registered what's happening, your lover says ''just kiss me'' because you're too in shock to form a sentence
you and your lover pull back from a kiss, only to lock lips again because you can't keep your hands off of each other
shoving each other into the bedroom, only to pull away momentarily when you bump into some furniture and hear something crash to the ground
kisses in which, you aren't prepared for your lover to kiss you but you respond immediately, and things quickly turns more heated
you feed your lover a strawberry, and with the strawberry in their mouth, they invite you to take a bite. you grab the strawberry with your teeth and spit it out on the ground. you wrap your hands around your lover's neck, pulling them into kiss
pulling the sheet over you and your lover as you're kissing in bed
as your lover is undressing, you come up from behind, tracing kisses from their neck to their shoulders, as you feel them leaning into your touch
''i love you.'' ''i love you, more.'' ''no, you don't.'' ''yes, i do.''
you accidentally forget to give your lover a kiss before leaving for work. when your lover realizes, they run outside and shouts ''come back here!'' as they reach you, they smack a kiss on your lips, before running back into the house, yelling ''i love you!''
we're on a double-date with other people... why are we kissing? you're not my date
you and your ex reunites, and it's not planned, but you kiss each other. is there any unresolved feelings lingering, or just two people nostalgic over old memories?
an uncertain kiss, i just kissed you but have to pull away to confirm you want this
pulling away from a kiss, telling your lover ''you're so beautiful'' while looking deep into their eyes
‘‘i’ll kiss you right now to prove that I don’t feel anything for you’‘ but the kiss does the opposite
you bring your lover home from a date and ask for a good night kiss. you're kissed on the cheek, but the innocent kiss turns into a kiss on the mouth
we're staying at your parents house, and it's bad timing, but let's make-out and risk getting caught. we're grown adults after all
needy kisses “put your computer away and come cuddle with me”
reassuring kisses ''you're the only one for me''
you and your best friend kiss each other, and then give each other a look ''so that happened'' and agree never to speak of it again
you're the maid of honor, i'm the best man, we just met, but let's sneak into the bathroom and make-out because we've been bickering ever since the bride and groom introduced us, which obviously doesn't have anything to do with our impeccable chemistry
best friends to lovers ''let's just kiss to see what it's like'' they kiss, and they're in love with each other, so they pull away slightly, lock eyes, and dive in for a second kiss
The room was alight with shouted fire between the two; one with unshed tears in their eyes, the other a vein pumping on his temple. Both with voices raw from their back and forth of "right" and "wrong", unwavering wills and high tempers placing hairline cracks in their hearts.
"My God, it's always 'the good of the people' with you-"
"As opposed to what? The good of the self? That's selfish and indignant-"
"Obviously you’re not only going to care for yourself, Spencer, you're putting words in my mouth-"
"that were already there to begin with!"
"Spencer, look at yourself! Look at our home!" She waved her hands about, clusters of clothes from hurried packing and papers strewn about from frenzied research, "It's suffering, it hasn't been cared for in months! You're suffering Spencer! When was the last time you ate or drank anything other than coffee?"
Spencer's eyes broke from theirs and searched the ground in shame; he felt weak on his feet, his limbs long and heavy. He had nothing to say. (y/n)'s pleading eyes spilled over with tears; his silence spoke volumes.
"I'm worried about you, baby," She walked toward him and tired to meet his tired eyes, which were now trained a random curled lip of their rug to avoid her own, "you don't eat, you barely sleep anymore..."
A pregnant pause settled between them as Spencer digested her words, "I just want you to care for yourself, Spence, you're falling apart..."
Spencer heaved a heavy sigh, and pinched his eyes shut, "I know."
"Look, I know you love this job, and I'm not asking for you to give it up," She said, silently asking to hold his hands within hers, squeezing them when he granted her permission, "but you deserve a break. You owe that to yourself and your team. I'm sure they've noticed that you haven't been yourself lately.”
Spencer nodded, tight-lipped, and hesitant as his eyes watched their joined hands.
“Just...take some time off, and center yourself away from this job, okay? Maybe go visit your mom? That's all that I ask."
When he finally met her worried gaze, with all of his defenses broken down, all he could muster was another sigh, and a small agreement as he placed his forehead to hers. A silent thank you.
And there they stood for a few moments, as (y/n) tucked her head beneath his chin and wound her arms around his frame, holding him with all of the tender strength in her body; as if she was holding all of his pieces together. And as the air settled from their shouting voices, a renewed love took the place of their ragged half-hate, and they rejoined in their shared space, now showering it in newfound peace and understanding.
The winter night air was cold, and dry, tinged with the flickering ash of their fireplace as a near-sleep couple nestled deeper within an old blanket.
"We really can't put the heat up higher?" said (y/n), nuzzling her nose into Spencer's shoulder; it was freezing. "I told you I would pay for it."
"And I told you that you didn't have to," he responded, knowing she would sacrifice her last cent if it would keep them warm, "I'm trying to help you, (y/n), you've been spending way too much, lately."
(y/n) sighed heavily, knowing he was right, but still wanting to keep an iron grip on her argument; she ultimately dropped it as his hand crept up onto her waist, and warmth sprouted throughout her body. "You're lucky your hands are so warm," she muttered, a slight hum accenting her words. "Or I would've fought until my last breath to convince you to let me spend all my money for some heat."
Spencer chuckled, "I know," he said as he ran it up and down her side, and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.
"I suppose our body heat is keeping us warm enough..." she mused, "You win. For now."
"Uh, huh," he said, not a drop of belief in his voice, "you'll thank me when you can finally afford a book shelf; I can hear you trip on your books every single morning."
(y/n) sighed wistfully, "A book shelf would be nice," she mumbled to herself, "and I could get a new mirror since the one that I have is cracked..."
"And a new bed set, I know you've been wanting that-
"For a while, yeah, and I could get a new pair of work shoes, since mine are starting to wear down on me..." she paused for a moment to think, "I guess saving is a fine idea...I didn't know I wanted so many things," she said, almost bashfully.
"You're welcome," Spencer said, almost flaunting his conversational conquer.
(y/n) just chuckled, knowing she had nothing else to say to argue her case, "Whatever...but truly, thank you. It'll be way easier to save with those goals in mind."
Spencer smiled down at her, than placed another light kiss on her lips, "I'm happy I could help."
(y/n) smiled back through the kiss, before settling against his slight frame and beginning to follow along the rising and falling flames in the fireplace before them.
She would never admit it, but she would endure one hundred days of frigid apartment air if it meant even one moment spent with Spencer like this.
And she could rest assured that he thought the same.
Despite the fancy survey, changes to the UI and TOS reveal we’re getting the service in the future whether we want it or not. Obviously, Post+ is a terrible idea that is trying to bank revenue on user content. Unlike patreon or onlyfans, tumblr’s primary focus is on FAN content. The legality of this is NOT in the users favor and as the new tumblr TOS states, said users will be entirely liable for whatever legal matters arise.
SO WHAT ARE WE DOING?
Besides filling out the survey, it’s time to show tumblr we mean business and show our displeasure by hitting them where it hurts.
Ad revenue.
We’re proposing a 24 hour log off as phase one of this protest.
WHEN IS THE PROTEST?
AUGUST 6th, 2021
12 am Eastern Time (US)
5 am Greenwich Mean Time
6 am Central European Time
8 am Moscow Standard Time
1 pm Australian Western Time
2 pm Japan Standard Time
3:30 pm Australian Central Time
4 pm Australian Eastern Time
AUGUST 5th, 2021
11 pm Mountain Time (US)
9 pm Pacific Time (US)
THE END TIME IS 24 HOURS FROM START TIME!!!
So no posting, no queues, no likes, and no reblogs!
WHAT IF I CAN’T/WHAT ELSE CAN I DO?
Like this post and share it AS MANY TIMES AS POSSIBLE. Use the hashtags #tumblrlogoff2021 or #postplusprotest on ANY and ALL social media.
WILL THIS WORK?
Maybe, maybe not. It’s an attempt at doing SOMETHING.
It’s about the yearning. the devotion book, song, poetry starter list, feel free to change pronouns or anything else to make it fit your character better!
❝ I would know his face in dark or disguise. I would know it even in madness. ❞
❝ I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world. ❞
❝ I will never leave him. It will be this, always, for as long as he will let me. ❞
❝ To the ends of the earth, would you follow me? ❞
❝ In my dreams, it’s always you. ❞
❝ Your name fit into my mouth better than my own ever has, like I was born to speak it. ❞
❝ There is no room for anything in my body but you. ❞
❝ I think you know how to love better than any of us. That’s why you find it all so painful. ❞
❝ If I had words to speak such a thing, I would have. But there were none that seemed big enough for it, to hold that swelling truth. ❞
❝ I would give all this and heaven too, I would give it all if only for a moment. ❞
❝ How I ruined everything by saying it out loud… ❞
❝ He is half my soul, as the poets say. ❞
❝ You can love a monster, it can even love you back, but that does not change its nature. ❞
❝ What a waste to say the heart could feel apart or feel complete. ❞
❝ Someone will remember us, even in another time. ❞
❝ We were like gods at the dawning of the world, and our joy was so bright we could see nothing else but each other. ❞
❝ I cannot love a hero. I do not want to see you being turned into a statue. ❞
❝ I called your name ‘til my fever broke. ❞
❝ There is nothing in the world I wanted more than to hear what he had not said. ❞
❝ The heart is hard to translate, it has a language of its own. ❞
❝I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you. ❞
❝ I made a promise when we were young. I told you I would see you again, no matter what became of us. ❞
❝ We are only human, and the gods fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy. ❞
❝ I am not beautiful, but I could be. ❞
❝ If you didn’t want the beautiful so badly perhaps you would’ve found it in your spirit singing softly. But hunter, you are human. ❞
❝ Because you want to die for love. You always have. ❞
❝ I’d give him all that I am. I’d give him all that I was. I’d tie our hearts together, chamber by chamber. ❞
❝ The blood in your mouth, I wish it was mine. ❞
❝ Be with me always– take any form– drive me mad! ❞
❝ I love you so much I’m going to let you kill me. ❞
❝ When I am dead, I charge you to mingle our ashes and bury us together. ❞
❝ I will love you forever; whatever happens. Till I die and after I die, and when I find my way out of the land of the dead, I’ll drift about forever, all my atoms, till I find you again. ❞
❝ You were my new dream. ❞
❝ I wish for earthquakes, eruptions, flood. Only that seems large enough to hold all of my rage and grief. ❞
❝ Speak of her over my grave, and watch how she brings me back to life. ❞
❝ I’ll live without you, though the struggle will be daily. ❞
❝ How dare you ask me to live with it? I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul! ❞
❝ No grave can hold my body down. I’ll crawl home to her. ❞
❝ Don’t leave me in this abyss where I cannot find you! ❞
❝ When he died, all things soft and beautiful and bright would be buried with him. ❞
❝ I cannot conceive of a universe without you in it. ❞
❝ He would go, and I would follow, even into death. ❞
❝ If you have to go, you know I will go with you. ❞
❝ Perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone. ❞
Spencer dragged his leaden feet along the sidewalk, each step belabored with his messenger bag pulling him to the ground like an anchor. His eyes were downcast and flitting by the ground by his feet, mulling over the images and clips of the past week that he had barely pulled himself through.
The screams and pleads of the life that slipped through his fingers clawed at the sides of his mind, regardless of the bustling thoughts that he tried to fill it with to distract himself; that one seemed to be the loudest.
He hadn't noticed that he had entered the threshold of his home until his fingertips turned the brass lock, the click bringing him into his room, with the worried and sunken eyes of his lover meeting his own.
She brought up a sorry hand to his cheek, well meaning pity spilling over her face as she brushed a thumb against his cheek; his favorite gesture from her. He grasped her hand and ran his thumb along her wrist and placed a kiss on her palm, taking himself out of his head, if only for a moment.
He cast a weary gaze to his lover as her hand crept up to the nape of his neck, and relished in the warmth that sunk into his skin, as she ushered his forehead toward her lips to place a soft kiss on its center.
"I can start a shower for you, if you want." She muttered, knowing that will ease some of his soreness, from travel.
"Thank you," he whispered, then drew in a breath as if to say something else, but only found a sigh as he squeezed her arm that rested by his ear. "thank you," he repeated with a flicker of a small smile.
(y/n) nodded, ran her thumb against his neck for a moment, before parting and heading to the bathroom with a lump in her throat. She hated to see him like this, like he is buried beneath his mind. He was always so shattered; distant, his hands trembling and restless.
The only thing she could think to do was pull him together from the outside.
The cold water splashing off of the shower wall and onto her arm brought her from her thoughts, and her eyes followed the rising steam from behind the curtain. She then pulled a breath in from her nose, grounding herself in the small bits of water that brushed beside her face, and turned to leave the bathroom to check on Spencer.
When she pushed into their bedroom, he stood with his back to her as he slid his shirt off of his shoulders. Her eyes rolled along the dips and hills of his back where the dim light bounced off of. His head hung low, and once his shirt fell to the floor, he brushed his hair back from his face and took a deep breath; it was shaking.
She began to make her way to him, watching how his shoulders jumped one she landed on a loose floor board, but his feet remained rooted to the ground. She then wound her hands around his waist and rested her forehead between his shoulder blades, wordless but endlessly present.
"The shower is ready my love, would you like to be alone?" She asked, her voice soft and warm against his back. He shook his head, a sharp breath paired with it. "Okay," she responded, "You go ahead and keep getting undressed; hop in when you're done. I will join you in there in a minute." He brought a hand from his waist to his mouth and placed a kiss to her palm before he began to unbuckle his belt.
As she unwound her arms, she tried her best to swallow the lump in her throat. She missed his words, his questions, his endless curiosities. She leaned her back against their closed bedroom door as she tried to catch a breath. She felt her support won't do much if she's a puddle of tears; of pity. She knew that he didn't want that. So, with a shaking breath, she pushed herself from the door, to enter. As she undressed, she began to stitch a smile, slight and trembling, before she gathered both of their discarded clothes and put them aside, then walked to the bathroom.
When she pulled back the shower curtain, Spencer had his face turned from the stream of water, his hands in the midst of smoothing his strands down. His face had a hint of bliss as the warm water rolled down his back, which strengthened her smile as she stepped over the bath ledge.
Wordlessly, she grabbed a bath cloth and squeezed some of his favorite soap from the bottle before placing a soft kiss to his chest. Spencer's breath caught once the cool soap touched his skin, but his shoulders laxed as she started to work it into a lather, spreading it along his chest and stomach.
She cast him a softened gaze, "Can I wash your back, my dear?" She asked him, to which he nodded, then swayed to the will of her hand turning him back toward the stream of water. A soft hum left his lips as she panned over his back then again as she moved down his sides, through the middle to the small of his back. Her rigid smile melted into a sweet one as she dragged the cloth along his body in long, languid strokes, leaving small kisses in her wake.
The steam hugged them both and coated each of their breaths as she reached forward to unhook the showerhead from the front of them. The deep oak of Spencer's soap rose up in the air as the bubbles cascaded down his body, bringing (y/n)'s thoughts to a steady stop as she drunk in his scent. As she stretched to place the shower head back on its hook, Spencer's hand rested at the small of her back to steady her. The warmth of his hand sprouted throughout her, and she drifted and settled down, fully rested in their shared space.
Inches from his lips, she paused, meeting his clouded eyes; and asked a silent question which was reflected back to her, swimming in sorrows. With a twitch of her own lips, she rose her chin, and met his in a sweet kiss, her hands cupping his chin as an anchor; a gentle one.
When they parted and met eyes, they held gazes for just a moment, each reassuring the other that they were as present as they could bring themselves to be, and that that was alright.
"Go ahead and dry yourself off, I'll be in there in a second," she said to him, close and kind.
As he turned and stepped from the shower, (y/n) began to lather herself with her own soap, the scent centering her as she swept it over her body. Her gentle smile etched on her face, dappled with peace as she rinsed herself off and met her own softened eyes in the mirror; emboldened in the love crested within her irises.
"He's going to be alright," she said to herself, then took a deep breath, "I'll do my best to be sure of it."
With that intimate promise, she secured her towel around her fame, then turned to join their shared space once more.
'Ah, there it is...' Spencer thought to himself, a slight smile tugging at his lips. That lilting voice that would seep through his apartment walls throughout the day. It was so light, peaceful.
Spencer paused for a moment and shut his eyes, his ear turned to the door to salvage each note, the book that he was reading lightly resting down on his lap. With each breath that rolled through his lungs, he further released himself, and sunk into his chair, his ear perched and alert, hanging on every note. This bodiless voice has been a treasure to him ever since he'd moved in; everyday, around noon, he would make his way out to the living room with a book on hand, and await the song that seems to soothe his qualms and aches.
There were times when he wished he had the courage to go and introduce himself to the woman behind this lovely voice, but those times would pass as he would think himself into spirals of doubt, and settle on leaving things as they are. This is merely a highlight to his daily life, no need to complicate it with personal introductions.
Lost in his thoughts, he'd missed the abrupt stop in her singing, a thump as the door snapped shut after her, and a latch click followed by a light tumble of steps down the hallway. His phone beeped soon after that, causing him to startle a bit before digging into his pocket.
Morgan: You coming tonight, pretty boy?
Spencer furrowed his brow, and tapped back,
Spencer: We had plans tonight?
Morgan: Yes, my cousin is performing in a show downtown. Don't tell me you forgot, I just told you yesterday
Spencer: Oh, right! yes! I will be there.
Morgan: Well hurry it up, the shows about to start.
Spencer: Right. On my way
Spencer then shut his phone then scrambled to gather his things; It's not often that he has the opportunity to see live theatre, so he jumps at any time that he can to experience it. He then strode across the room, stepped into his shoes and fled out of the door, hoping to make it on time.
...
Upon a dazzling stage, a woman's spine bowed to the will of her partner's hand, as her dress fluttered about the white stage light above them, her legs dipping and curling like the wind and her arm stretched beyond her hand, held in an elegant point. Spencer's heart sped with an inward breath of surprise, his eyes glued to the stage before him and fluttering with every movement.
Derek bumped Spencer's shoulder, a knowing smile rested on his lips, "You digging my cousin, poindexter?"
Spencer startled and flicked his eyes next to him for a moment, "Shut, up, I'm trying to pay attention," mumbled, skirting around answering his question, a sporting half smile.
Morgan chuckled, "Hey, it's cool, man," he righted himself in his seat, "I'll introduce you two after the show,"
A twitch of his lips, and a spare glance confirmed Spencer's delight with his offer before they both righted themselves in their seats for the rest of the night.
….
As Spencer began to clap, he scanned the stage for the dancer that struck his mind the most. When he found her, her smile was so wide that her eyes nearly crinkled shut with mirth, and she clutched her stage-mates hand in thanks, and bounded off of the stage with the speed and determination of a newborn calf that had just learned to run.
Morgan sent a side-eye Spencer's way and flicked his head towards the openings on the sides of the stage. He went to step out of the aisle, then caught himself and leaned back towards his companion, "Don't be too nervous, pretty boy, you've got nothing to worry about." He then chuckled at the dissipating storm of doubt in Spencer's eye, then threw his coat over his jacket and sauntered down the aisle beside their seats.
Spencer's breath tumbled out of him as he processed Morgan's words, yet couldn't fight the hand that rose to brush his curls back from his forehead. He then gathered his coat in his arms, and fell into step after his friend backstage.
...
Spencer entered upon an embrace between the two of them, with (y/n)'s face spilling over in warm glee peeking over Morgan's shoulder. The warmth from her smile spread to his cheeks as he absentmindedly followed the nooks of her crinkled nose.
"I'm so glad you could make it," she squeezed from her throat, her breath caught by the strength of their hug, "I was so worried that you were gonna miss the chance to see if all of my hard work paid off."
"You think I'd miss this?" Morgan asked incredulously as they pulled apart, "you've been talking my ear off about it for months" They shared a chuckle and he patted her head, "You did great kid, I'm proud of you."
Her smile merely grew, and her eyes lit up at this sentiment, "I'm proud of me too." She said then punctuated it with a sharp nod before catching spencer's as he awkwardly stood by the entrance and picked at the lining of his coat. Nerves were set alight as she met eyes with Morgan once more, and discretely pointed in his direction mouthing, "Is that him?" with a slight giddy smile ghosting across her lips.
Morgan nodded, sporting that same knowing smile from before, "Go get 'im, tiger," he said as he stepped to the side to allow her to pass.
With a steady breath, she wiped her already clammy palms along her tights, and feigned a confident walk in his direction, her nerves still rumbling in her stomach, 'I didn't expect him to be so cute,' she thought to herself, as she stopped before him and slightly waved her hand to get his attention.
"Hi, you must be Spencer," she began, offering an open handshake to him. He startled a bit when he heard her voice, then offered her a small smile as he fumbled his jacket around until he got a hand free to meet hers, "My name is (y/n), Derek has told me so much about you." She finished with an embarrassed chuckle making her cheeks warm.
"Morgan's talked about me?" he responded, surprised and confused as he looked up to Morgan for confirmation, and only getting a thumbs up and an wink before turning his eyes back down to the woman before him.
"Uh-huh," she confirmed, "all good things, don't worry."
He chuckled as he thrust his hand into his pocket, "I would hope so," they shared an awkward smile before their eyes broke as they searched the room for something else to say to each other. "You were amazing tonight." Spencer settled on.
(y/n) giggled a little, bashful that he had noticed her on the stage filled with so many others, "Oh, thanks. I'm sure Derek has talked your ear off about how much I would vent to him after rehearsals."
Spencer sucked in through his teeth and rocked back on his heels, "Oh, yeah, this piece really handed it to you from what I've heard."
"That doesn't even begin to cover it," she responded through rolled eyes and a sigh, "I had to curate an entirely new work ethic for this show...it was worth it though." she added as an afterthought, a light smile rested on her lips.
"Was it?" he asked, a curious wrinkle in his brow.
(y/n)'s smile grew slightly, "Mhm, the exhaustion feels earned rather than expected. It's honestly what keeps me coming back to this stage."
"Earned exhaustion, huh?" He muttered, more to himself than anything, "That's certainly a new description of something that's usually disliked by most."
"I guess I'm not like most people then," she responded, with a shrug, "I'm not saying that I'm in a rush to be tired, but this tiredness is usually a sign of a good show for me. If I'm not tired when I get back, then I didn't give as much to that night's show as I should've."
"Hm, that seems like a pretty harsh rating system."
"Believe me, many of cast mates would disagree," she said, her pushing a tasteless chuckle from her chest, "But the beauty of it is, if I feel I didn't do as good as I should've, I get to come back and do it better the next day."
He matched her smile with intrigue, he had been so oblivious about the vigor of this field, and he'd found himself yearning for more elaboration from (y/n); she seems to talk about it with so much warmth and distant glee in her eyes. And (y/n) found his forward yearning of her daily life so inviting that she would answer any asking question that he threw at her.
"I'm guessing that method only works when you're given the proper chance to rest?" He asked, soft intrigue piercing through her flushed thoughts.
"Oh absolutely," she responded, "I never sacrificed my sleep throughout this entire process; hard work can't really amount to anything if I don't give my body a chance to rest, it'll give out on me," she said with a shadow of dread, as if she had learned that the hard way, "which reminds me that I have to get back home soon."
She drew back from her words with a sorry gaze directed up at him, "I really don't mean to cut this short-"
Her words were sliced with a sharp clap of thunder, followed by rain slapping against the door of the exit. Both of their shoulders jumped at the sound, and soon after, (y/n) slapped her palm against her forehead with a heavy sigh.
Spencer watched this carefully, "You don't have an umbrella, do you?" He asked, to which she shook her head, and began to gnaw on her bottom lip as she thought through her options.
After a moment, Spencer had suddenly remembered the weight of his umbrella in his hand, and in a split second, made the decision to offer, "I could stand outside with you while you wait for a cab; I wouldn't mind."
She smiled, her cheeks growing warm at the thought of being so close to him, "That would be wonderful, but you don't have to, Spencer, I live like ten minutes down the street."
His brows shot up, "So do I." he responded, soft wonder in his voice peppered with nerves, "I, uh, can walk you home if you would like."
"Oh, um, sure." she said, a giddy grin spreading across her cheeks, "I would love that."
As they shrugged their coats onto their shoulders, they shared a rising giddiness in their stomachs at the prospect of being so close to each other under an umbrella, nearly sharing a breath. She didn't miss the shy hand that wrapped around her hip as they exited to the brisk night air, a gentle sheet of rain dribbling down onto them as they fell into step beside one another.
...
"Well, this is me," (y/n) said as they arrived at her apartment building, "Thank you for uh, walking me home." She said sheepishly. "I hope it wasn't too out of your way."
"Of course, and not at all," he responded, shaking out the umbrella and reaching into his pocket for his keys, "I wasn't expecting to be walking myself home too,"
"Oh, this is your apartment building?" She asked incredulously, "Wow, what a wonderful coincidence," she muttered, biting her smile back, "what floor do you live on?"
"Six," he said, as he held the door open for her.
"No way, that's my floor" she muttered, only bearing to look down at her shoes as they approached the elevator, "room number?"
"A5," he said, cautiously.
An airy laugh of disbelief left her lips as the elevator opened for them, "We live across the hall from each other." Her eyes were wide and eager as she stepped into it.
Spencer could only bear to turn to her, as a breath tumbled out of his chest, "You're the voice that I've been hearing," he said, a slight smile turning up the corners of his lips.
"You...can hear when I sing?" She asked, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, before her words began to tumble out of her, "I'm so sorry, I hope I haven't been disturbing you-"
"Oh, no, you've been doing the opposite, honestly," he said, rushed before she shrank back into herself, "I...look forward to hearing your voice from across the hall, i-it's beautiful," his words fell meek and sheepish as he darted his eyes anywhere but hers.
"Really?" She asked shyly, looking up to meet his skittering eyes.
"Yes," he said with a sigh, meeting her wide eyes, "I've...I've been wanting to introduce myself to you for so long."
She giggled and glanced down as the elevator took them to their floor, "Well, I'm glad that Derek has taken care of the hard part for us."
Once the door parted, and the both of them stepped out and made their way to their doors, (y/n) followed the urge to hug him before the night ended; and Spencer was washed in the smell of rain and cherry blossom as she whispered a small good night into his shoulder before entering her room. And for the first time in a long time, Spencer found it within himself to view the coming future with a tentative excitement bubbling in his core.
Hey, y’all! I hope you guys are doing well! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but a while back I made a ko-fi account! If you guys like my work and can spare a couple of dollars, I would really appreciate it! If not, no hard feelings, thank you for visiting my blog and reading my work!
A/N: Just a short piece I wrote from the prompt list, hope y’all enjoy!
With a wistful smile, she drew a gentle finger tip along the expanse of Spencer's cheeks. She followed the lines in his face down along his jaw to the crook of his neck, and further to the peak of his shoulder where the moonlight caught and sprouted across his supple skin. Up and down her finger went, hoping to consume the rest night with her gentle caresses.
"Mmh..." a groan slipped from his lips as a crease formed on his brow, and a slight twitch rolled through his fingers before they gripped the sheet beneath them.
(y/n) lifted her hand, not wanting to disturb him further than his dreams already have. She watched, concerned, as his eyes swept back and forth beneath his eyelids, and a whimper left his lips. He pushed from his nostrils before his head jerked to the side, jostling his hair and laying it across his dewy forehead.
'poor thing...' she thought to herself, feeling her heart pull in her chest. He'd told her about his nightmares before, but she had never witnessed them first hand, nor did he tell her what they usually contained.
Wishing to bring him some semblance of solace, she crept a hand across the sliver of sheets between them and curled her fingers around his still clenched hand, running her thumb over his knuckles.
Spencer stirred, and loosened his grip slightly, giving into her warmth. Though his eyes still swept back and forth, his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm, and the furrow on his brow grew shallow. A gentle smile spread onto her lips as she watched the relaxation wash over his tense body, and spill into his hand; it fell limp between them, his fingers loosely curled into a rested fist.
"Mh..." he muttered once more, relief flashing over his face before his eyes fluttered open, tears gathered along the bottom of his eyelids. He flicked his gaze to his partner, then darted his eyes back down to the sheets, distant anguish swam within them. With a harsh swallow and a shallow breath, he flipped up his trembling hand and grasped hers in desperation, his words failing him.
"Hey..." (y/n) started, softly, tentatively reaching her other hand to rest on his shoulder. He dragged her eyes up to meet hers, "You don't need to use your words, my love, just show me what you need."
His face crumbled as soon as her solace left her lips, and he reached his arm around her and nearly crushed her against himself, his head laid to rest in the crook of her neck. As she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, she cooed and shushed him, feeling the shudders of his silent cries.
"You're okay, baby..." she sighed, speaking around the lump in her throat, "You're safe here." She clenched him closer to her as she felt his choppy breaths splash across her chest, and ran gentle fingers through his tangled tresses until his breath steadied.
Sleep remained estranged to the two as they held each other in their arms, the song of the night spilling in through their drafty windows, bringing peace to the stilted air of their bedroom, the moonlight a humble guest to their comfort.
A/N: hey y’all, sorry for the late post!! This just a little coffee shop imagine that foreverrrr to get out of my head lol. Hope y’all enjoy! p.s. there usually is a read more link but I’m on mobile so this post is just gonna be left as is until I get my hands on a laptop :)
It was in a quaint coffee shop that Spencer had first laid his eyes on her. She was tucked into a corner, with her head low and her eyes steady. Her hands cupped a steaming coffee mug dotted with stars and hand painted constellations, as her eyes followed the wandering city-goers through the window beside her. A leather journal was splayed open before her; with a shift of her elbow, he caught a glimpse of the ragged manifestations of her thoughts.
He spotted lines and dots and creatures lining the side of her page, her sketches on the journal's edge were specific; definite. He followed along the coils and stray hairs that sprung from her high bun, the slope of her neck, the slight smile that rested upon her lips...
Spencer sighed and righted himself in his seat to face the nearly empty coffee cup before him; he had been staring, he realized. He clacked his fingers against the table as he silently hoped the splinted moment when they caught eyes hadn't been as noticeable as he felt it was.
A name was then shouted in the background, and through the bustle of the cafe he heard the soft kick of someones hasty steps. He'd held his breath as he ran through the incredibly slim chances that it might be that stranger from across the room, a slight knot curling in his stomach as he had no idea what to say to this woman if she decided to confront him. When he felt a tap on his shoulder, his face shriveled into a grimace before he fixed himself to face this stranger, his eyes soft and apologetic.
"I think this might be yours," a mild voice floated to his ears, "They handed me the wrong drink, then just gestured over here so..."
"Oh," he responded, surprised, before reaching to take the cup from her hands and nodding in thanks, which she waved away with an awkward smile resting on her lips.
"I also noticed you staring earlier," the beginnings of an apology began to push against his lips before she continued on, "Which normally would throw me off but, you're kind of cute, so I thought I'd just...invite you to sit with me for a while."
His brows shot up in surprise before he composed himself and checked his watch, thankful that he still had about half an hour before his lecture, "Sure," he responded as he began to gather his things.
"Alright," she sighed, donning an accomplished smile before she turned on her heel and crossed the room to return to her seat, nerves now beginning to fester in her core as she absently scanned over her notes to distract herself from the growing pit in her stomach.
‘what on Earth was I thinking?' she thought to herself before she stifled her thoughts as Spencer set his things along the back of the chair and sunk into his seat. He flashed her a courteous smile once their eyes met.
"I have to admit," he started, "I'm a little surprised that you'd invite me over here after you caught me staring."
“You know, I'm surprised myself," she admitted with a small chuckle, "I don't usually do things like this, but something about you caught my attention," She paused as her gaze flicked to his hands playing at his sleeves, he was fixing the watch to peek out of his tweed jacket, "do you have somewhere to be?" she asked.
“I have a, uh, lecture in half an hour," he responded, his voice stern and yielding against her open ears.
"You're a teacher?" she asked, brow raised in intrigue, to which he nodded with a shrug, "That explains so much about you."
"It does?" he asked, his head lightly cocked to the side.
"Mhm," she hummed, taking a sip from her mug, "You seem like the scholarly type." His eyes flicked to the side as he digested her oddly forward answer, "What's your name?"
"Spencer," he said before he quirked his brow to silently request for her own.
"(y/n)," her gaze wide and inviting, before she set her mug down with a soft clink, and rested her chin onto her hand, "So tell me about yourself, Spencer, there has to be more to you than teaching."
"I only teach lectures occasionally," Spencer flitted his eyes to the table, her unwavering attention slightly overwhelming, yet warm enough to keep his own tethered between them, "majority of the time, I work in the behavioral sciences unit, in the FBI."
Surprise and intrigue flashed across her features as she raised her mug to hide her gleaming smile, "Behavioral sciences unit, huh? So you study people?"
"That's actually a misconception," he began, "we investigate federal crimes through a behavioral lens. The creation of this department is actually a pretty interesting story," She nodded for him to go on, and as he spoke, (y/n) followed his hands as they fluttered about, "When it was first established, most of the general public didn't believe that serial killers could've had the capacity for compassion in their early lives."
"Well, in their defense, it's pretty hard to see someone as a compassionate human being after you've been a direct witness to the families that they tore apart," (y/n) responded, frankly, "So, what changed their minds?"
"The profiles started working," he said matter of factually.
(y/n) just nodded, a simple frown on her face as she digested his information, "It must've taken years for a turn around like that," she lowered her mug, "I can only imagine how hard it must've been to get that department off of the ground."
Spencer scoffed, "Yea, not many people liked to change their minds back then," he responded, accents of jest and spite dancing along his words, "So, uh, what do you do?"
"I'm an author," she responded, pride flashing across her features before melting into rested humility.
Spencer's eyes flashed before his tongue dashed across his lips, he could only imagine the worlds hidden away in her mind, "How long have you been writing?"
"Oh, I've been writing for years, and it was a challenge to find a way to get paid for it," she responded, dismissive yet firm with her voice, "nobody believed me when I said that I was going to open up the world through my words; make it seem more inviting and colorful than it's turned out to be."
He watched a storm roll across her gaze as she followed her rippled reflection in her mug, her finger lightly playing at the rim. "I know I probably just sound like every other starving artist out there," she chuckled, "but I've dreamt this big since I was a kid, so a couple of naysayers aren't going to stop me from doing what I love."
Spencer nodded, "I know how hard it is to be doubted by the people who are supposed to support you," an empathetic smile flickered across his lips, "it took my mother years to accept my career path."
"Oh, yea?" she asked, "I had no idea you could meet so much resistance in becoming an FBI agent."
Spencer chuckled, bashful, "Most of the resistance came from how young I was. The other training agents were nearly ten years older than me when I started."
(y/n) startled a bit, "Ten years? How young were you when you started working for the FBI?"
"Twenty two." He answered simply, and upon realizing her blase response, he quickly followed up with, "Most agents join the FBI in their mid-thirties."
"Oh, I see I have a genius on my hands," she jested, "somehow, that doesn't surprise me." She muttered wistfully, her hands interlocked under her chin. "The jacket, the hair, the wide intelligent eyes; you have scholar written all over you."
"You could tell that just from what I was wearing?" He asked, a mild wonder tinting his words.
"Mhm, writers study people too," she responded nonchalantly, "passers by present so many details of who they are on the surface."
He spared himself a glance as her eyes turned to the bustling city goers, drinking her in as much as he could. The white sheen of the snow covered sidewalks bounced off of her skin; she seemed to steep in the weak winter sun. He followed how her shoulders rose and fell with a wistful breath before she darted her gaze back down to her journal, her fingers caressing the page as kindly as the breeze that spins autumn leaves.
"That's how I make sense of the world," she started, "those little characteristics that no one pays any mind to make the world so bright for me, and I want to share that perspective with as many people as I possibly can."
Spencer felt the apples of his cheeks grow warm as he gathered the earnest hope held in her eyes while she cradled the page between her finger tips. Her drive to share her craft ran so deep; she was so open and honest.
Before he could get another word out, his watch beeped, drawing both of their gazes to his wrist; their half hour was up. The rising excitement in his chest deflated as he began to tuck his watch back into its place, “I hate to cut this short, but I have to go.” He said, apologetically, “When can I see you again?”
"I'm not going anywhere any time soon." An easy grin spread across her lips as she scanned her frenzied notes, “I like to come to this corner of the coffee shop whenever I have writer's block, and I usually don’t leave until I have a decent story on my hands."
Spencer's lips quirked up to a grin that matched hers, before he nodded and stood to gather his things.
"On the off chance that I do leave before you’re done lecturing," she started, grabbing a napkin and scrawling something across it, "Here's my number. I would love to see you again."
His grin widened as he took the napkin and pocketed it before gathering the rest of his things, “I’m glad you invited me over here,” he said bashfully with his hand gripping his satchel’s strap.
“I am too.” (y/n) responded, her hands cupping her mug once more, while she smiled softly, “now go before you’re late.”
With a curt nod and a gentle wave, Spencer turned on his heel, and made his way to the coffee shop doors, a slight bounce in his stride as he let his mind travel mere hours ahead of him when he could see (y/n) again. Her and her idiosyncrasies drew him in, and he could not wait to figure her out.
