Summary: Grayson and you spend the night in the trailer of his car, talking about your future and also do some other things…
Word count: 2.567
A/N: Hello beautfiul people… I’m back!! I haven’t been very active so I hope this long imagine will make up for it ;) I really did my best on this one, so I hope you’ll like it. For some reason I always end my imagines smutty, it’s just a thing that happens lmao. It’s based of a request someone messaged me and inspired by Moonlight by the queen; Ariana Grande.
The sun is setting And you’re right here by my side And the movie is playing But we won’t be watching tonight…
Your eyes were trained on the television as you were about to watch your favourite movie for at least the one hundredth time. And although you were obsessed with it, your mind wasn’t able to focus on what was on the screen for some reason. It was the first time this month that Grayson and you had the whole night for you alone, which made tonight a special night.
He was done with work and so were you, so you decided to put your phones away for this whole evening and do something relaxing; like staying in to watch a movie. No one could do you any harm.
But secretly all you really wanted was to have a conversation with your boyfriend; about his day, how he was doing, his plans for the week… Which was the opposite of what you were doing right now; wasting time with watching something as silly as movie… and one you had seen too many times already.
It was as if Grayson was exactly thinking the same; he quickly turned his head that was laying on your shoulder and locked eyes with you. Your faces were only a few inches apart, your noses on the edge of touching.
You whimpered when his sweet breath hit your face. The urge to kiss him was huge, but he looked like he was going to say something so you tried to ignore it.
‘Y/N, what are we even doing? Let’s get out of here,’ he spoke softly. You nodded and Grayson grabbed your hands, lifting you off the couch. You giggled quietly as you willingly let Grayson lead you to the door, outside, and together you walked to the place where he parked his car.
Every look, every touch Makes me want to give you my heart I’d be crushin on you baby Stay the way you are
Right when you stepped into Grayson’s car and he took his place right next to you and started the engine, you knew exactly where you would be heading. It was an enormous relief to escape the buzzing city for a while, away from all the people and never ending noises.
Grayson’s right hand was placed on your thigh and his other one was on the wheel, while he was softly humming along a song you didn’t know. Simply at moments like these, where he was casually driving his car and his eyes were focused on the road, you couldn’t help but ask yourself how you were so lucky to have a man like this at your side.
Before you could stop yourself, your mind was started going places they hadn’t been in a long time. You recalled the times Grayson and you had done other things than just driving in his car… Yes, although he had gotten this car very recent, the amount of times you had made love in in here was almost embarrassing.
You could remember so well how he sweetly asked you to try it, just for once. Little did you know it would become on of your favourite places to have some sexy time with him.
Your cheeks heat up at the thought of climbing on Grayson’s lap the other night. As he quickly tried to remove your clothes his lips were on every inch of your neck - it wasn’t the most clever idea to combine those two tasks.
The first time had been absolutely amazing, even though you had probably laughed more than you ever had that night. After a few times you had gotten the hand of it and it wasn’t so clumsy anymore.
But still, you thought often about that first night and how the rain tapped against the windows, making you feel like you were the last two people on this planet. And after that night… Well, Grayson had asked you to marry him. And how in the world could you say no to that offer?
'We’re here.’ Grayson’s words shook you awake from all the thoughts that were going on inside your head. He patted your thigh gently and smiled at you before he got out of the car.
You get out as well and deeply breathe in the fresh air of nature, walking to the back of his car. The night was still young, but during the twenty minute drive it had already gotten dark outside.
There was only some light coming from the sky above; the stars and the moon were guarding over you. Grayson was already in the trailer of the car, preparing the tiny place and making it comfortable with blankets and pillows. The focused look and furrowed brows made him even more attractive than he already was.
It was so cute to watch him trying to make everything perfect. You had probably been standing next to the trailer and watching Grayson’s every move, because suddenly he looks at you, his forehead furrowed in worry now.
'Everything okay, babe?’ You blink your eyes to focus your sight before you grab his warm, welcoming hand. 'Yeah, I’m fine.’
It wasn’t at all windy or cold tonight. It actually had been pretty hot today and the warmth was still hanging underneath the trees and a few clouds. You try to get in the trailer but surprise-surprise: the railing was too high. Grayson chuckles in amusement, finding it sweet how you’re always too small to do things like this.
'Wait.’ He moves his hands and places them underneath your armpits. Before you can register what’s happening Grayson lifts you effortlessly over the railing. It takes two seconds before you feel solid ground again and stand right next to him.
'There you go,’ Grayson says and he leans in for a quick kiss on your nose. He smiles at you in awe when you settle yourself between the soft pillows and kick of your shoes. 'What are you looking at? It’s more comfy down here,’ you giggle, looking up to him. Grayson looks at you in admiration and wonders how in the world he ever got so lucky.
He kicks off his shoes as well before he settles himself next to you. You put your legs right on top of his and press your cheek against his chest. 'Hm…’ The steady rythm of his heart set you in a relaxing mood, and after a while you were fighting to keep your sleepy eyes open.
A pleasant tingle goes along your spine and you shiver, a feeling of joy and happiness filling you all up. 'Are you cold?’ Grayson asks caringly, unable to hide the worried tone in his voice. 'Not really,’ you answer.
Of course Grayson knew you longer than today and he quickly spread a fuzzy blanket over your bodies. You wrap your arms around his big torso, feeling like you hadn’t a care in the world. Grayson kisses the top of your head while he runs his fingers up and down your arms.
'Cause I never knew, I never knew You cold hold moonligt in your hands 'Til the night I held you You’re my moonlight Moonlight
It could have been five minutes, it could have been an hour. You had lost complete track of time and you had honestly no idea how much time had passed since Grayson and you laid in the trailer of the car, cuddling and watching the stars.
It had been quiet for most of the time. You often had these kind of silences but they weren’t awkward at all, which is the first thing that comes to your mind if you think about silences.
You were just laying together, enjoying each others company and the quiet sounds of birds and the leaves of the trees that were brushing against each other. But, eventually, Grayson breaks the silence, and the deepness of your voice made you shudder lightly.
'Are you okay, Y/N?’ At first you don’t recognise the seriousness in his voice or which situation he is referring to. You prop yourself up to your elbows to look at his beautiful face, to see if maybe he was tired and was starting to talk nonsense; which he often did if it was late at night and he just had a long day of work.
But his face was dead serious. 'What do you mean?’ You ask, confusion written over your face. 'I mean, are you okay-okay? Are you… happy?’ He asks. You could see something in his eyes that you couldn’t put your finger on. Wait, was he… nervous? You grab his soft hand and gently kiss his fingertips.
I kiss his fingertips As I’m wishing he’s all mine He’s giving me Elvis With some James Dean in his eyes
'Baby… of course I’m happy! I am going to marry the most kind and beautiful man that’s walking on this earth, how could I not be happy?’ You respond in a quiet voice, lightly squeezing his hand. You study his face, noticing he looked like you had calmed down his nerves. He sighs.
'Good… I thought - I don’t know… Maybe you had second thoughts about marrying me or something…’ he trails off, looking you directly in your eyes. You close your eyes and can’t help but grin a little, not believing what he just said. 'Gray, please. Sometimes you are so insecure when there is absolutely no reason for it.’
After you had said that, you go lay back and plant your head on his bicep. Hmm, that was even better than an actual pillow. Time passes again and you feel yourself slowly drift off to sleep.
'So, how many kids do you want? I was thinking maybe four…’ Grayson asks, the tone of his voice emotionless. You are immediately wide awake and go sit straight up. 'Excuse me?!’ you squeel in disbelief, but your eyes adjust to the darkness and you see Grayson smirk from ear to ear.
'I was thinking one, maaaybe two,’ you say. Grayson sweetly patted your back. 'I was just teasing you, baby.’ 'I know,’ you laughed it off. 'So, how many dogs do you want?’ Grayson asks, making a game out of it. (Let’s pretend he isn’t allergic) He goes sit up straight as well and you relax again, realizing what he was doing.
'Ehm… two? Maybe three?’ He nods in agreement. 'Sounds fair.’ 'My turn. In what kind of house would you like to live?’ Grayson pouted his lips, taking a moment to think about that. 'I want to live somewhere were you feel home. To be honest, I feel at home when I’m with you, so I don’t really care in what kind of house. If I’m with you I’m happy.’
Your heart flutters at his words. Although it was a little cliché, you had to admit that what he was saying was adorable. 'You’re so cheesy,’ you murmer and push his arm playfully. 'I know. But you love it,’ Grayson says, quickly grabbing the wrist of the arm that pushed him before you can pull away.
He looks at you and you look back at him, your heart suddenly beating ten times faster. 'I bet you aren’t as strong as you look,’ you dare him, glancing at his big arms and hands. He raises one eyebrow, his lips curling into an amusing smile.
'Oh no?’ He whispers. Before you can say something Grayson grabs both of your arms tightly, turns you around so you get to lay on your back and he places himself between your legs. You both know your bodies were tangled in a familiar position.
His mouth was dangerously close to yours, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction to kiss him right away. His heavy breathing against your lips made him almost irresistible, but somehow you could resist the burning urge.
'I bet you can’t get up as long as I’m holding down,’ he whispers. Of course he was right, but you still try to squirm away…and fail. You could feel the sexual tension rise between the two of you. But you weren’t going to be the first one to give in. He was.
'I bet you want to kiss me really bad right now,’ you whisper, taking it a step further. You seductively lick your dried up lips. Or at least making an attempt to make it look sexy.
'I bet…’ Grayson starts, but pauses for a dramatic effect. Or he ran out of ideas and had to think of something real quick. His eyes trail challengingly up and down your body. 'I bet… I can make you come at least two times… tonight.’
He looked at you hungrily as your stomach flipped. Your mouth drops and you raise your eyebrows. Was he saying that he wanted to have sex… right here? Grayson was a determined man if it came to orgasms and make you get the most pleasure as possible. 'W-What?’ You eventually say when you’re able to speak again.
Your voice sounded weird; small and unsteady. You were thanking the stars he couldn’t see your red cheeks or that he saw that you were complete putty in his hands. Grayson smirked.
'You heard me,’ his rough voice was filled with lust and even in the position you were in right now you could feel your knees go weak. You swallow the rock in your throat. Grayson was only wearing some boxershorts and loose sweatpants, which was the reason you could feel his growing member in his shorts, stroking against your core.
'I bet you can’t,’ you whisper softly, afraid your voice would crack if you spoke out loud. You were trying to act like he wasn’t affecting you in any way. 'Oh, baby… I know I can,’ Grayson says cocky, eyes going even darker than they already were.
He chuckles one last time before he kisses you hungrily, parting your lips with his. He quickly made his way to your neck, kissing and sucking gently while his fingers were crawling underneath your shirt. You look up to the stars as a long, loud moan escapes your mouth.
Puts his lips on my neck Makes me want to give him my body I’d be fallen for you baby But I just can’t stop
It wasn’t long before you had ripped each others clothes off and his lips were on every inch of your now naked body. It took a minute before you realize this was the first time ever Grayson was making love to you in the trailer of his car… but you both knew it wouldn’t be the last time, that was certain.
After all it had been a very, very wonderful night. No, you would never forget this night and the way Grayson was calling your name as you twitched under his warm, muscly body. Of course Grayson had won the bet and you had lost… oh, what a shame.
But one thing that really touched your heart was something Grayson said the next morning, after you had spend the night in the trailer. Your naked bodies were pressed to each other as you watched the sunrise.
'Baby, I don’t know a lot about the future and what is yet to come, but there is something that I do know… And that is that I want to spend the rest of it with you.’
Sweet like candy But he’s such a man He knows just what he does When he’s holding me tight And he calls me “moonlight” too…
On your birthday you wake up to tons of notifications on twitter and Instagram, from family and friends but also fans wishing you a happy birthday and other well wishes. Your heart is warmed by the kind messages from people all over, you think that maybe a little bit later you’ll do a quick Instagram live stream to thank everyone.
It’s tradition that whoever’s birthday it is gets to pick what’s on the menu for breakfast (or in this case, brunch, since it was so hard to get out of his cozy grasp this morning). You kindly ask Harry for his famous pancakes, but instead of bananas (like he always requests), could he pretty please throw some chocolate chips in, and maybe some whipped cream and strawberries on top, and even though you know he’ll say that “it’s too much sugar for this early in the mornin’ love, but since it’s your birthday…” he’ll reluctantly toss the chocolate chips in anyway.
As he’s getting everything ready, he hands you your coffee with a kiss to the forehead, telling you to go cuddle up on the couch and he’ll call you when everything is ready.
As you shuffle over to your shared living room, with your favorite fuzzy blanket wrapped loosely around you and your favorite morning playlist softly drifting through from the kitchen, you get comfortable in your self-designated corner of couch. You take a sip of your coffee and open up Instagram, ready to make your short little live message for the fans.
“Good morning friends! Or should I say afternoon since it’s almost 11 here,” you giggle. “I woke up to so many lovely messages and I just wanted to say a big thank you to all of you for helping to make my birthday so special already.”
Immediately you see lots of followers have tuned into your live stream, with messages starting to appear at the bottom, and a rising number of viewers showing at the top. You answer a few of the messages popping up at the bottom, as Ed Sheeran’s "Perfect” starts to echo through the speakers in the kitchen, and you smile thinking that it’s one of your favorite love songs.
“It’s pretty cold here today, so I think I might say in my blanket for as long as possible. Maybe find a good movie to watch while I eat my birthday pancakes."
As you continue to talk to your phone, your ears perk up to Harry’s voice starting to sing along with the song and you start to panic ever so slightly. Whenever Harry sings, your heart always slightly flutters, but this time it’s for a totally different reason.
Of course everyone knows that you are with Harry, you have been for years, but you purposely make it a point to not make a show of it. You both like to keep your private lives private, something that is hard to do when he has the job and life that he does. The last thing you want is to cause any drama with his fans, to have anyone thinking you are showing him off, or invading his privacy, especially on your birthday of all days. So with a frozen smile, an ever so slight wide eyed expression, and multiple messages from quick fans who already picked up on the fact that it was indeed Harry’s voice in the background, you try to gently get up from your seat the sneak to the next room, hoping that it will all go unnoticed. The video is in fact live, it’s not as though you can delete it later or suddenly end the video just as his voice appears without causing suspicion.
As you start to make your move, he hollers, "Oi you don’ like my singin’? Get paid to do this ya know, s’not very nice to jus’ ignore my performance.” He is standing across the room from you, watching you with his infamous smirk, his arms folded across his chest. That’s when he sees the way in which your holding your phone and he asks, “whatcha doin’ love?“
Panic runs through you as you swallow and answer, “Umm, doing a live video thanking everyone for the birthday wishes.” He knows you better than anyone, so you hope that the look in your eyes will tell him what he needs to know.
But instead, he makes his way to you and plops himself down on your lap, trapping and slightly crushing you with his weight, not that you would normally mind, but under this particular circumstance, you begin to worry. He keeps his gaze on your phone as his face appears in front of yours.
He’s not one for social media, using it minimally for both his personal and professional life, never wanting to be in his friends’ snapchats or have his personal pictures being posted too often. In your two years of being with each other, you’ve posted maybe two or three photos of the two of you together, only with his permission to share these personal moments. So for him to willingly put himself in this live stream, you’re confused and a bit anxious. Maybe he doesn’t understand what this is? Maybe he thinks you can not post it at all, or even delete it later?
He continues to stare at the screen, watching the mass influx of messages popping up at the bottom, and the dramatic increase of viewers at the top. He seems unphased.
"Haz it’s live,” you gently whisper with a smile, almost hiding yourself behind his large frame. “Can’t delete it.”
“S'why it’s called a live stream, innit?” He quips.
You’re shocked to say the least, that he would insert himself like this, that he would knowingly make his private life public like this, but you suppose there’s no more use in questioning now, not with the camera still pointed on both of your faces.
“Wha’s tha’?” He asks, pointing to the bottom right of the screen.
“Hearts.” You murmur, your chin resting nervously on his right shoulder.
“ ’N what’re the numbers?“
"How many people are watching.”
“Hmm,” he hums, “Wha’s all this?” He points again, this time to the bottom left.
He pauses for just a moment, continuing to let his eyes wander over the screen, smiling occasionally and then furrowing his brow.
"Why’s everyone sayin’ happy birthday? Mine’s not fo’ two more months.” He waits a moment before turning and giving you a cheeky smile.
You roll your eyes at him but can’t help but laugh. “S'my birthday, Harry” and you give him a pout.
He just laughs at you, and turns back at the screen. He gives the screen one last furrowed look, then begins to stick his tongue out at the screen. Repetitively. He raises his eyebrows and continuously sticks his tongue out, and you are extremely confused as to what is going on.
“Harry, what are you doing?“ You giggle softly. It’s hard to give a true laugh with his heavy weight still on top of you.
"Wanna be the dog,” he states matter of factly, sticking his tongue out once more. “Where’s th’ dog?“
You laugh again, this time a little more loudly, “That’s snap chat love, this is Instagram. It doesn’t have all those filters."
He frowns, looking like a little boy who didn’t get his way, and you just want to give him kisses all over because he looks so damn cute, and if your phone wasn’t in front of both of your faces, with thousands of fans tuning in, you would.
Your tummy gives a soft growl, bringing you back to reality and you are reminded of the breakfast (well, brunch) that awaits you.
You let out a soft sigh, "Pancakes done?” You ask, as you rest you head against him, watching him watch the screen.
“Oh shit!!” He all but yells. He pops up from his seat on your lap, slightly knocking you over in the process. Your phone jostles and you’re thankful he didn’t knock over the coffee mug that is sitting on the coffee table before you.
You stay seated, laughing loudly, as you watch him rush into the kitchen, grabbing the spatula to check the damage, but you just know these ones must be burned. You turn you attention back to your phone, pursing your lips as you try to contain the love and joy and utter bliss you feel. He may be a tall, lanky, soft, silly dork, but he’s yours and you love him with your whole heart.
You give your phone once last playful eye roll, and whisper so he can’t hear you, “And he brags he used to be a baker.”
“Oi! I hear’ tha’! Jus’ cause it’s your birthday doesn’ mean you get t’ be mean t’ me!”
You glance down at the comments one last time, seeing all the loving remarks from his fans, but the ones that stick out to you the most are the ones that tell you something that you already knew. You smile, “Yeah, ‘m one lucky girl,” you think to yourself.
With one last thank you and goodbye to the live stream, you ditch you phone and your blanket on the couch, and make you way to the kitchen where Harry has already put new batter into the pan. You smile as you snake your arms around him, nestling your face and nose into his back, giving him a small squeeze.
“New one’s ‘ill be ready in a mo’,” he murmurs, slowly swaying back and forth with you to the new song playing.
You hum in response, forgetting all about the pancakes, just wanting to be in this moment with him, to feel his warmth, to smell his smell, and to remember that you are indeed one lucky (birthday) girl.
THIS is one of the cutest submissions I have EVER gotten holy shIT I’m so in love 😍
- howzit kids!!!! - the future is weird and spooky huh??? ? no matter how cool i am with where i am, i still find time to sorta worry about it - at the minute i’m v happy studying, and my plans for heading back to australia in june are just: return to my casual job, walk my dogs, make comics, do nanowrimo, go to some cons. and right now??? i feel very strongly that that will be enough, at least for this year - but then also i know my own restless ass and i know that maybe it won’t be - i really hope it will be - walked around viborg’s south lake today, it was pretty and cold and it’s odd how the world can feel both enormous and tiny some days - i’m one of the youngest people that i’ve met here, which is a sort of sobering thought. gotta remember there’s no hurry. life’s really long, ya know? - i’m learning to love what a work in progress everything we do in class is: there’s no finished product, just the act of making. it’s a really good way to be - my art is improving in a way i didn’t think i’d notice in three weeks, which is pretty great. i want to dedicate this year to making stuff i like, and that maybe other people will too. i really love drawing it makes me happy happy happy - i hope you’re all good, if you can, slow down for a minute today
Omg that was amazing!! Since there’s not that much written about him, I’d like to request another one: basically it’s freezing in Boston and he keeps taking the readers sheets during the night bc he’s cold, so she gets up and tries to sleep on the couch or something, but he feels bad and they cuddle (Charlie mcavoy again haha) hope that made sense
Word count: 754
Author’s note: Damn Tumblr, back at it again with the lack of McAvoy gifs
It’s freezing in Boston.
Of course, this isn’t some groundbreaking piece of news. It’s usually pretty cold in Boston during the winter months. But today, the high was only five degrees, something that you’re not all too thrilled about. When night falls, though, it’s absolutely bitter out. It seems like no matter how many layers you throw on or how high you turn the temperature, it still remains just as cold in the apartment as it is outside. You’re sure that it seems like you’re being dramatic, but you’re just a naturally cold person, so cold weather doesn’t really agree with you.
When you and Charlie had first gone to bed, it had been nice. You were warm in a pair of fluffy sweatpants and one of Charlie’s hoodies, a pile of blankets on top of both of you and Charlie’s arms slung around you. You had easily fallen asleep, being warm for the first time all day.
stories about how the Byers survived, even before there was Eleven, even before there was Hopper, and how they manage to keep surviving altogether in the same house with talking lights and walls…
peeks out of my little anxiety hole. so I guess i have some explaining to do. This past semester I got really really sick. I was in the hospital for about 6 weeks and only now am I ready to try this again. I’m trying to wade through a shallow pool, then I’ll tackle the deep end.
While I was in the hospital though, i met some pretty amazing people from all different types of backgrounds, and their stories have inspired me to start writing my own again. This series will be inspired by different things people said to me in the last month.
I’ll eventually get back to the mileven stuff, and there will be some of it in here, but a lot of it will exploring the Byers and Joyce’s history. Also, I really wanted to jump on the Will/El bro-sis relationship bandwagon.
“He was just lucky it wasn’t his face.”
“Uh-huh, whatever you say Joyce.” Hopper said, pinching his nose and letting out a long drawn out sigh before handing Joyce a cold pack of melting ice cubes and damp paper towels. “I just hope it was worth it.” He muttered and landed with an umph next to her on the couch.
“I don’t get it. Dad was here and you just hit the wall?” Jonathan asked. Sitting next to him, Will slumped deeper in his seat, as if he was making his best attempt to disappear from the room. His face, so like Jonathan’s, wore the opposite expression, his eyebrows creased in shame and Jonathan’s brow furrowed and fists clenched in anger.
“This isn’t your fault, Will.” Eleven wanted to tell him, so very desperately. He hadn’t even been home when Lonnie showed up and Lonnie was long gone by the time Hopper, Jonathan and Will came running through the door, arms full of party supplies.
Some more marching band advice as we start getting into the colder months.
Today is Friday, September 8th 2017. Most people don’t typically think of September as a cold month - I mean, we’re still technically in summer until September 22. Most people aren’t out on the field at seven in the morning, so don’t listen to them.
September is that weird month where it’s sweater weather in the morning and tank top weather in the afternoon. Factor in the fact that it’s always colder before the sun goes up and we have midwinter temperatures in mid September.
Wednesday I wore what I normally wear - a sweater, jeans, and a t-shirt. Walking from the car to the door, which took maybe fifteen, twenty seconds - I was shivering. Just from that I was starting to regret all of my life choices thinking about spending an hour on the field in nothing but my sweater. I was right, by the way. Luckily drill was pretty intense that day, and I had to practically run across the school to get to my class so by the time I was in my first hour class I wasn’t freezing, but it still kind of hurt to hold on to my flute.
Thursday I took my coat, but I hadn’t been able to find my gloves. Most of me was warm, but it was physically painful to hold my flute. You know the kind of cold that kind of feels like it’s stabbing you? Yeah that’s what I was getting from my flute. I had it out about half an hour later in my first hour class and it was still pretty cold.
Today I had both my coat and my gloves. We didn’t even have our instruments out much, but it was still pretty useful. (Gloves were my hands’ savior last year too).
Lots of rambling, now I’m actually going to give you advice.
Get a coat that’s warm and that you can march in. Do some twists, make sure it’s not going to impede your traversing or any body movements you’re doing. I stopped using my mom’s bulky coat for this reason and switched to a smaller but equally warm coat for this reason.
Remember how I said it was physically painful to hold on to my flute? Yeah. Metal does this thing where it amplifies whatever temperature it’s in (Totally unscientific phrasing). Even if it doesn’t feel too cold out, your metal instrument will be freezing. I once took the word of one of the juniors who said it wouldn’t be too cold out so I wouldn’t need gloves. They were mostly right. My hands disagreed though. Get gloves that are pretty small. Remember you still have to play. It’s going to be a bit harder to play with gloves on, but at least you won’t get frostbite.
Waterproof shoes! Marching shoes are pretty good for this purpose, but if you don’t have those or if you can’t get yours on a regular basis for rehearsal, then there’s probably other options. These are especially great if you live somewhere like Colorado where we occasionally get snow in October.
Once you learn the whole show and get to the point where you’re ending rehearsal with full runthroughs of your show, it’s not going to feel cold about halfway through. Marching band is still a physically strenuous activity. By the end it’ll feel a bit like you’ve been running. Just, keep this in mind.
That’s all I have to say on this matter. Feel free to add if any of you have any other suggestions.
“Uh, excuse me?” you squeaked, walking into the unfamiliar Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI. You were just there to drop something off but you couldn’t help but feel like everyone there was analysing you as if you were an unsub – Spencer had assured you that you’d feel like that a lot because people there just did it out of habit.
“Hi, can I help you?” a pretty woman with long blonde hair said, smiling assuringly at you. You assumed that she knew by the way you blinked or something that you were feeling uneasy by the whole situation.
“Yes, um, I’m looking for Spencer Reid. He left this,” you held up the thick jacket in your hand, “at my place and it’s going to be freezing today and I wasn’t sure if he was going to drop in to home before going to work this morning.”
The woman stared at you for a few moments in almost disbelief. You then realised from the few pictures that Spencer showed you of his friends that it was none other than Jennifer Jareau – he was the godfather of one of her sons.
“And you bought him some lunch too,” Jennifer suddenly grinned widely, “you must be (Y/N) then! I’m Jennifer but you can just call me JJ – hold on, I’ll just grab Spencer for you.”
You said a quick thank you as she dashed up towards several offices and conference rooms. After a few minutes, Spencer emerged out of one of the rooms with an entire team following behind him looking rather giddy. This wasn’t exactly how you thought you were going to meet Spencer’s friends… you had to remind yourself again that you weren’t under investigation.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer laughed when he finally reached you, his friends all standing behind him, waiting patiently, “thanks for coming in. I was actually just thinking that I was going to be cold today.”
“She’s so pretty!” you heard one of the women squeal, causing Spencer to grin as he quickly kissed your forehead and then turned to face his team mates and friends, his arm wrapped around you.
“Guys, this is my girlfriend, (Y/N).”
“It’s great to finally meet the girl that Reid won’t ever shut up about,” the older man said with a smirk on his face, this becoming the first introduction to the friends of what would turn out to be your future husband.