#WHY DO I HAVE TO WORK FOR A LIVING I WANT TO WRITE THIS FIC

[hazelfoureyes]

i have a bit of a fun ask :) can u put ur spotify on shuffle and write a fic with vox based on the first song that plays? plz plz HAZEL PLZ

Please please please know I am still getting my sea legs with Vox! So don’t go into this expecting my usual… uhhh skill? Confidence? also testing the new tag list system

「Warnings/Promises: Val exists, Vox x Fem Reader, stalking, pastry decimation, casual sexism」

Stalker’s Tango

From the moment you stepped out of your home, he was eagerly watching.

The security doorbell camera on your porch let him see you wore black pants and a white blouse. Perfect. A white pocket square in his suit jacket pocket to complement. “Wonderful choice as always, babe.” He spoke softly to the screen; to you.

He followed every move, jumping with muscle memory speed from traffic camera to home security camera to shopwindow full of screens.

When you stopped to go into a bakery, he was there in the cctv cameras, fisheye view of your order of cold brew coffee and a croissant. “Impeccable taste.” A confident laugh between you two as he shot off a text to craft services, two words, ‘Croissants. Now.’

“Could you possibly warm that?” You asked the young man behind the counter.

Another text. ‘Heated.’

He watched you at the bus stop. A man sat beside you and smiled at you. You offered a kind smile back. “Who the fuck is that?” He zoomed in, taking a screenshot to send to Velvette, ‘Find socials for this pissant.’

When you stepped onto the bus he sighed, relief the man was no longer bothering you but also with a heart heavy. You didn’t belong on the bus. Why couldn’t he just buy you a car? No, better, He should send a driver to pick you up daily. A personal chauffeur. You shouldn’t have to bother yourself with driving.

No, he was thinking too small. You should live in the tower. Angel Dust used to, why couldn’t you? A moment of fantasy.

Perhaps he’d walk in to find you in your pajamas. What ever could they be? He searched your online shopping history and couldn’t find a single purchase for sleep wear. Your lack of home television and a computer limited him to only watching you from your stoop and beyond. He buckled, what if you didn’t wear anything to bed? Why didn’t you let him see you at night? What did he need to do for you to trust him in your home.

A knock at the door he didn’t acknowledge. His sole focus was you. A book? You minx. Always playing hard to get. He knew you got the e-reader he sent. He watched you take the package from the doorbell camera, after all.

“Sir,” a small and slightly pathetic voice spoken through the door, “I’m getting word from downstairs they’re not sure how to keep croissants warm in the studio.”

Another zoom, what were you reading? He’d have the author on Vox programming, sure to take photos like old chums for you to see on your bus stop bench ads.

Vox rose slowly from his chair, eyes on you as he backed away from his desk.

A change in routine. You cut through Jekyll Park. No cameras.

Vox hurried to the door, huffing as he flung it open, “Have you never heard of a warming lamp?”

“They don’t have any… normally they only offer cold items.”

“Fine then have,” he pointed at a random employee walking by, “that fucker stand there with a toaster oven”

The eel demon shrunk, “Well he works for us not for-.”

The screen that comprised his head filled with static, eyes a swirling rage of red and black, “He works for the Vees. He goes where we tell him.”

He slammed the door, taking a moment to recompose himself before turning to face you. He didn’t want you to see him like that.

Spinning back, charming smile cocked on his face, “Alright where are you?” He strolled up to the displays and returned to his seat, scanning around until he found you again. But he wasn’t finding you. He couldn’t do anything about the park’s lack of cameras, it was pentagram city property, or else he’d have staff in there within the hour. Normally not an issue though, you never cut through that way.

Sixty seconds. Where were you?

Ninety seconds. Where were you.

One hundred and eighty seconds. Where were you!

Vox’s chair fell over as he stood with a panic, hitting the speed dial for Security. As the phone was answered and he began to instruct them to the west entrance of the park, you emerged from the tree lined path and tossed your empty coffee cup and food bag into the recycling bins. You’d just slowed your walk to enjoy your breakfast with a pretty view.

“Nevermind, false alarm fellas.” A nervous chuckle as he pulled at his collar. “Sir we’re not all me-.”

He hung up and leaned on the control panel. He should have sent a text. In fact maybe he still should.

Good Morning sinners! Reminder—- you’re only safe when you’re under the watchful eye of VoxTek Security Cameras.

A mass push text to every VoxTek phone in pentagram city. He watched you look at your phone and then up to the camera pointed directly at you from a light pole. A satisfied hum, “Good girl.”

As his view switched to the VeeTower camera system he danced into the elevator.

Vox’s foot impatiently tapped, staring directly into the eyes of the VoxTek employee holding the toaster oven in his hands. The fishy looking demon was squirming as the heat bled into the metal casing and burned his palms.

“Oh! I didn’t know I paid you to arrive late!” Val’s voice carried across the set.

You gripped the handles of your tote bag, “Val I’m sorry! The bus got a flat tire and I had to walk.”

A hiss as Val leaned down to get eye level with you, “Sluts lie as easily as they open their legs.”

“No, Val.” Vox interjected, tone stronger than he had intended, “She’s telling the truth. It was on the local traffic report. Cut her some slack.”

“I don’t watch that shit.” A sigh, exhaling pink aphrodisiac laced smoke into the air between you three, “Fine. If amorcito says so.” Val smiled to Vox before sending a sneer back to you, “Now fuck off to the dressing room.”

He walked away to shout at someone else, so you took the opportunity to say, “Thank you.” You offered a little head bow, grateful for back-up in your lie. Vox had already been trying to sneak off the set when you started speaking to him, causing him to sheepishly spin around on his heels. “I don’t think we’ve met before, but I see you all over the place. You’re Vox, right?” You extended a hand.

His screen flickered, blue background now with a gradient pink starting from the bottom, a blush rising up his face, “I see my reputation precedes me.” A false bravado as he gestured to himself. He moved the croissant to his right hand so he could shake yours.

“Well… your name and face is on everything. So, yes! I guess so.” You shook his hand, “Oh, I had a croissant too.”

He beamed, “Ya know what they say, great minds and all that. I was just having a little breakfast after reading. I hear they have some on set today in craft services.” You perked up, looking to the food table and the man holding the toaster oven.

“My lucky day! If only they had iced coffee. It would be perfect.” With a polite smile you took a step away, “I gotta go or Val will kill me. Nice to meet you!”

Vox stood still until you were out of sight. His hand crushed the pastry before he launched it across the room, mumbling about coffee before looking back longingly in the direction you’d left in, “See ya later babe.”

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog  , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  , @fizzled-phoenix ,  @phobophobular  , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo    , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl 

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #fanfiction #vox #hazbin vox

[ihavethedreamies]

Happy Birthday | Seonghwa

Park Seonghwa - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.6k

Pairing: Seonghwa x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Super Cute, Super Sweet

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected Sex (Don't!)

Author's Note: This a story requested by/written for my friend @sadfragilegirl! I don't normally write this level of fluffy romance, but I tried really hard! It’s a little early for her actual birthday, but she didn't mind~

I have the setting as Switzerland as if the reader and Seonghwa live in Korea, so sorry if you already live in Switzerland or something…

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"What's this?" You looked from the envelope to him skeptically. He said it was a surprise, but you were expecting him to place a box or even a bag in your hands when you closed your eyes. When the paper hit your palms instead, your eyes flew open, looking at him with question.

"Just open it, love." Seonghwa huffed with amusement, adjusting his position on the couch so he was facing you more. It wasn't like a card, it was a normal white envelope, like from when you would get a bill in the mail. It was only stuck at the middle of the flap, so you easily tore it open. Staring at him to gage his reaction, you reached in, your fingers feeling two slips of paper inside. Pulling them out, you flipped them over, still watching him. Your eyes left his to read the words on the slips and your mouth fell open.

"Your passport is still valid, right?" He smiled wide at your reaction.

"Switzerland?!" You looked rapidly between his gift and his face.

"That's where you talk about all the time…" Seonghwa leaned forward a bit to get a better view of your face. He wanted you to be excited, but was worried you would start crying, but you seemed okay.

"But…why?"

"Your birthday?" He said it like it was obvious. You looked back to the tickets, checking over the date, noticing it would be the day before your birthday, in about two weeks.

"Is this early enough notice for you to get off work?" He was a little worried he should have done it sooner, but he needed to make sure all his paperwork was in order as well. Luckily since it was only going to be about four or so days, you both didn't need a visa.

"Yes, its early enough- Park Seonghwa!" Your demeanor had shifted drastically, and he recoiled a bit.

"Why would you do something so elaborate for my birthday?" Your brow furrowed and he calmed, exhaling in slight exasperation.

"Why wouldn't I? You're going to be a quarter of a century." Your boyfriend smiled playfully, and you sneered back just as playfully. Clicking your tongue, you looked back at the tickets.

"I was able to rent a town house unit instead of a hotel room, it thought it would make it homier…" He pulled out his phone so he could show you the booking. It was more of a bed and breakfast type deal, but it would be just the two of you. You had to rip your gaze away from the plane tickets to look at the listing he showed you. It was perfect, warm, and cozy. There was a small living room and a small kitchen and dining area, with the bedroom and a bathroom upstairs. Small, but still bigger than a hotel room.

"Seonghwa…" You drifted off, and he looked over your face again, and he noticed your eyes had gotten glossy, and you swallowed hard.

"Please don’t cry, love." He huffed, hand going to your cheek so he could brush the stray tear off your cheek with his thumb.

"But it's so freaking sweet." You sniffed and he chuckled, resting his cheek on the crown of your head when you slumped into him, head on his shoulder.

The next two weeks were a blur, your job was willing to let you get off for that short time, you hardly ever took time off, let alone for yourself. Your coworkers were a bit disappointed that you wouldn’t be there so they could use your birthday as an excuse to go out to drink. Seonghwa helped you make sure all of the technical parts were handled, like your paperwork for your passport and other such things. What you hadn't noticed at first was that the tickets were for business class. Not quite top-tier first class, but way better than economy, especially for a nearly twelve hour flight. Your flight was set to take off at about two in the afternoon and so you would arrive in Switzerland for 7 pm their time. You two had even been preparing as much as possible for the jet lag you were going to experience, but it was a bit hard since you both still had to work. The flight was long, but it was quite fun, and it was fancy. You had never flown so far internationally, let alone in such a comfortable way. The meal was ten times better than what plane food you normally got to eat, and it was even better because Seonghwa was with you the whole time. You already thought he was the best boyfriend anyone had ever had, but this really was the icing on the cake…

"Cake, for breakfast?" You grumbled groggily, looking at the dessert he had set on the nightstand. By the time you had gotten all settled into your lodging, it was nearly ten at night, so you had fallen asleep quickly. The clock next to the cake read 11:42, so theoretically, it would be cake for lunch.

"We're not going to eat it now, but I wanted you to blow out the candle first." You still hadn't crawled out far enough from your blanket cocoon to look at him, only seeing his hands stick the blue '25' candle into the top of the dessert. The icing was white and had yellow and purple flowers piped around for decoration. Seonghwa chuckled as he helped you sit up, the plush duvet falling to your lap as you rubbed your eyes. When your eyes focused back, you could read the top of the cake, "Happy Birthday, Love." He smiled, reading the top of the cake for you. He brushed an errant strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, then left a soft kiss on your forehead. Yawning and stretching, you turned in the bed as he lit the candle with a match, then he carefully sat on the bed with you, holding the cake steadily.

"Make a wish." He was so freaking pretty, let alone when he would smile. How'd you get so lucky? You wondered that often. You finally noticed that he had a headband on that had a small fake crown attached to it, a plastic tiara lying next to him on the bed. You smiled, looking to the small flame and closed your eyes, 'let me be able to be with him forever,' then you blew out the candle. You clapped to yourself softly as he put the birthday cake back down, then grabbed the gold piece of plastic, and let it slip onto your head, the little combs on the ends securing it with your hair. When his hands came away, you adjusted it slightly, and before you could thank him, he had something else he was handing you. Not only that, there was two more boxes on the floor along with the gift bag he was handing you.

"What the…Seonghwa!" You scolded half-heartedly. He had already flew you to a whole other country, rented a beautiful place to stay and got you a very yummy looking cake.

"Just open it." He let you take the bag, sitting on the bed before you at a better angle. He was in a white cardigan sweater; the low neck showed his collarbone off as it stretched over his shoulders. He didn't have anything on underneath and the wide swatch of skin that was revealed made you want to lean forward and kiss away the smooth perfection. Forcing your attention back to the gift, you removed the tissue paper and reached in to grab the actual gift. It was a small wooden box, beautifully stained dark with gold painted cherry blossoms dotting the wood. It was already beautiful, but when you lifted the lid at the hinges, a soft melody began to play, one very familiar to you. Seonghwa noticed tears welling in your eyes again, but he just let it be, there was no point trying to get you to stop crying at that point. The little ballerina that had rose off her perch in the music box spun smoothly along with the melody, her little dress was a soft purple, her hair up in a bun, the same color as your own.

"Seonghwa…" You were nearly out of breath, it was gorgeous.

"Where did you find this?" You ran your finger over the deep purple inside, watching her spin in her dance, it was a different exterior, but almost identical otherwise to one you had as a child. The song was even the same, and you had lost the box when you moved in the fifth grade, heartbroken that you would never see it again.

"There's a store I found that had European antiques. I was just looking in the window and I saw this through the window. When I heard the song, I grabbed it, since I knew it was your favorite." He explained, leaning down to grab one of the boxes. You reluctantly closed the music box, setting it gently to the side, letting him place the box on your lap.

"These are more for today…" He grabbed the other box as well as you untied the ribbon and opened the bigger, flat box. Inside was a dress made from a delicate, pale yellow material. It was decorated with purple flowers, resembling the cake sitting on the bedside table. There was also a pair of white sandals, decorated with yellow flowers.

"Oh, it's so pretty!" You smiled at the dress, fingers running over the purple collar of the dress. Yes, it was a present, but it was going to be hard to beat the music box. The next item he handed to you was wrapped. He scolded you for being delicate with the wrapping paper, but none the less let you slowly open it, trying not to tear the white shining paper too bad. Inside was a box of luxury bath supplies. It had a bath bomb, salts, bubble bath and a small pillow to put on the edge of the tub for your head.

"Why don’t you take a bath and then we can get a later lunch?" Seonghwa helped you get the tape off of the plastic box so you could open it. You hummed as the delicate fruity scents hit your nose and you nearly jumped out of bed, eager to get in the tub. He chuckled as you shuffled quickly into the bathroom, and he smiled even wider at your excited gasp.

"You already drew the water!" He heard a small splash, "Its just right!" You peaked your head out of the door and smiled.

"Thank you, Seonghwa!"

"Of course, love." He let you take your bath and got ready for everything else he had planned. You plopped the round ball into the water, watching it fizz and turn the water a warm reddish-pink. You sprinkled some of the salts in as well, letting them dissolve before quickly shedding your sleepwear and sinking in. The tub was nice a big, perfect for relaxing.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" You reached over the edge, grabbing the small pillow and using the suction cups to attach it on the edge. Sighing, you relaxed into the nice hot water, the pleasant aroma and salts soothing you as well. The plane ride, while much better in business class, still had left you a bit sore and the bath was just what you needed. After you were done, you fixed your hair, put on some light makeup, and put on the dress. Looking yourself over in the tall standing mirror near the dresser of the bedroom, you smiled at your reflection. It fit perfectly, of course, and it was incredibly comfortable. Grabbing a small bag to use as a purse, you grabbed the sandals as well and met Seonghwa downstairs in the small living room at the front of your lodging.

"Does it look good?" you asked as you came in, drawing his attention away from his phone to you. He gaped for a second, then smiled warmly, "You look absolutely gorgeous, love." Like he had any room to talk. As you went to leave, he kneeled down in front of you, helping you get the sandals on, then led you out with your hand in his. The weather was perfect, fluffy white clouds floating in the deep blue sky. People milled up and down the cobblestone street and you joined them.

"The restaurant for lunch is just on the next street." He told you, and you made your way down the sidewalk and around the corner to get to a more business-centered street.

It was a lovely little bistro-type establishment and you even got a free dessert because of your birthday. Since you didn't have to drive anywhere, you both enjoyed a glass of champagne and you honestly ate more than you should have.

"Why don’t we walk and look at the shops?" Seonghwa motioned down the street after paying the bill, not letting you even look at the receipt. There were several little businesses, many of them were obviously getting most of their business from tourists. You had to be really careful with what you looked at, or how long, or if you would make a comment on something. Seonghwa tried to buy everything you were even slightly interested in, so you had to hold your tongue a bit. At the end of the street was a small courtyard with a fountain in the center, some street vendors and performers set up for the many passerby. By the time you reached the fountain you had acquired a silver charm bracelet, a pocket mirror with a celestial design on the back, a set of three glass figurines of your favorite animal, and a pair of flats with a pretty floral design. Those were just the nice gifts, you also had several different confections, a bag of marbles made to look like dragon's eggs, a wooden flute, a much nicer though still fake tiara, and earrings made to look like macarons.

"I really don't need all of this, Seonghwa." You huffed, taking a seat at the edge of the fountain. He had been carrying the bags, not even letting you hold the bag of chocolate covered pretzels.

"Yes, you do." Your boyfriend tried to hide his smile, trying to maintain his false seriousness. As you had walked down the road, you had also taken several pictures at several places where that was the intended goal. Many of them were selfies of the two of you, or simply of you standing by various things. There was a giant taxidermy bear, with a huge teddy bear next to it and you even put on a headband with bear ears on it for the picture, but didn't let Seonghwa buy it. A statue of some local historical figure, a model of the largest fish ever caught in the area, and several pictures of you holding miniature instruments were among the photos. Together you would take a picture in front of the shops you bought stuff from, for reference, and at seemingly random times, when he would wrap his arm around your shoulders and make you look at his phone. There were several times when you would be near a group of girls and you could tell they were staring at your boyfriend and whispering, but you didn't know the language they were speaking. Your eyes flitted over to his exposed upper chest. You at first were incredibly pleased with him wearing such a flattering top, but you wondered if maybe you wanted to be the only one able to see him like that. So, you had gotten a matching set of small capes made to look like those worn by monarchs. It covered him enough, but still wouldn't make him too hot in the midday sun.

"Can you keep going or do we need to head back?"

"I'm fine looking at more shops, but I need you to promise and not buy me something unless I explicitly ask you to." You pointed your finger in his face, making sure he was looking at you.

"Okay, I promise." He sounded a bit put off, but he smiled right away, reaching up to adjust your cape. With your tiara, you looked and felt a bit childish, but it was your birthday, dammit! You were going to do what you wished. The day continued in bliss, and most of what Seonghwa bought you after was food, except for a medium-sized stuffed wolf and a nice pair of sunglasses since the clouds had all but left and the bright light was hurting your eyes. As you sat on the grass at the edge of the waterway running through the middle of town, you took the glasses off and set them over the snout of the stuffed wolf. The spot was near the edge of town, and on the other side of the water was a field that, when in season, would be filled with flowers. However, that time of year, there weren’t any in bloom. The sun was creeping closer and closer to the horizon, a beautiful array of colors painting the sky.

"This place is gorgeous." You sighed in bliss, leaning back, propping yourself up with your hands on the ground behind you.

"That's why I picked it." Seonghwa hummed, digging through one of the many bags, looking for something. A few stores back, he had come out with a canvas, zipped bag, and would not for any reason let you look inside. He had added a few things over the following hours, and you were growing incredibly curious. But…you supposed you could be patient. As you watched the sun sink to just peak over the distant horizon, he made a noise of realization and hurriedly began to pack stuff up.

"Seonghwa?"

"Let's head back, I have-" He halted, then shook his head, helping you stand up from the ground, "Let's get back." You were growing even more curious as you walked back to your rented lodging. The restaurant right across the way was finally open, seemingly only for dinner, and it seemed Seonghwa had made a reservation. While the bistro offered food you were at least somewhat familiar with, you had not tried anything even similar to the menu. Your boyfriend told you to ignore the prices and order anything that looked good, so you could try everything. Luckily, you had no idea what the conversion rate of the currency was, so you could reliably ignore the cost.

"Do you mind sitting and waiting for a little bit?" he asked, gathering up the bags after he paid the bill.

"Uh, okay?" Your place was literally right across the street, so you didn't mind.

"I'll message you when you can come!" he called as he left the establishment and you watched him jog across and enter the place.

"Huh…" You knew he was planning another surprise but had no clue what it was. You were able to finish your drink before you got the text, your phone buzzing with his specific notification sound. Since the meal had been paid, you simply got up and left the restaurant, heading across the street and entering the lodging yourself. Only the lamp was on in the living room, but you were able to see there were several items on the coffee table that were not there when you left. This intrigued you, so you headed straight in, not noticing the flower petals littering the floor of the hall leading further in and toward the stairs. Stopping by the table, you saw there was a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers in a vase, two candles on each side, another box wrapped in a ribbon, with an envelope on top. You smiled at the sight, still a little blown away by the effort your boyfriend had put into celebrating your birthday. Leaning down, you grabbed the envelope first, pulling the card out that lay inside.

Please put this on, love, and come up.

He had written in his smooth handwriting, and you carefully set the note down, reaching for the box then. Pulling the ribbon loose, you looked inside and found another item he had bought you to wear. This time it was a soft, lacey babydoll lingerie set in a delicate purple shade. In the corner of the box was a small glass bottle designed to look like a diamond, the scent of the perfume was heavenly. There was a thin satin robe to match, and your face flushed a bit at the sight. You had never been confident enough to buy something like that to wear before. However, seeing what he had bought gave you an extreme confidence boost, and it made you feel beautiful and sexy as you put it on in the restroom on the first floor. After you got the set carefully on, you sprayed the perfume in all the right places. Looking over yourself the best you could in the mirror, you draped the robe on over the lingerie, and prepared to join your boyfriend. You were honestly a bit nervous. It wasn't that you had never had sex with Seonghwa, because you definitely had, but this was different. He had you wrapped up like you were a gift for him; you felt incredibly wanted and special. Even more so than usual. It was as you entered the hallway that you finally saw the purple petals decorating the hardwood floor and led up the stairs. You were careful when going up, not wanting to damage the petals too much, nor slip and ruin the evening. Taking a deep breath to steady your excitement and nerves, you put your hand on the nob, and opened the door. There were candles set up around the room, the low, soft light casting across your boyfriend, who was sitting on the bed, a single flower twirling in his grasp. His face was a bit bashful, probably because he had changed into thin, flowy black pants, and a matching black button up…but it was undone, hanging open, fully revealing the smooth skin his sweater earlier gave a sneak peak of. When his eyes landed on you as well, his nerves faded, seeing you wrapped up in the robe and lingerie he had picked out. Even though it was your birthday, you were a gift to him, the elegant scent of the perfume wafted gently toward him as you moved closer, letting the door fall closed. He stood to meet you, both of your faces slightly flushed. You took the flower from him and he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, then tipped your head up by his hand on your chin so your eyes could meet his.

"You look beautiful, (Y/N)." You hummed when he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth and you had to fiddle yours fingers together to hold back from just running your hands over his bare torso.

"Have you had a good birthday, love?"

"Of course, Seonghwa." You whined a bit at the end, wanting his soft kisses over your cheek to go back to your lips.

"Would you like a bit of dessert?" he asked, leading you toward the bed. You still hadn't eaten the cake he put in the fridge that morning, but that wasn't what he meant. He had a display plate on the bed with several different cuts of fruit and you smiled. You actually preferred fruit or something fruity and sweet for a dessert even over a pastry. You sat delicately on the bed and moved up further at his prompting as he joined you, placing the platter in between you two. As he held up a strawberry to your lips, he mimicked the bite you took, smirking a bit as you chewed. A bit of the sweet juice ran over your bottom lip, so he leaned forward, running his tongue over the trail, then finally captured your lips in a kiss. You whimpered in relief, and eagerly let his tongue then enter your mouth so he could taste the strawberry on your own tongue. After you ate each piece of fruit, he would lick the remains off your mouth and tongue. When he gave you the second cherry, he took one of the stems and challenged to see if you could tie it in a knot together. Well, you couldn't, but maybe because you were both too focused on the kiss than tying the stem. The kiss that followed the gentle flavor of banana was the final step, he set the platter to the side, deepening the kiss further and leading you to remove the soft purple robe you had on over the lingerie. He exhaled in awe, the nearly sheer fabric encompassing your breasts was lined with soft lace, the lower part of the babydoll was truly sheer and laid over your ribs, ending with the same lace as the top. The panties were barely such, but added a sweet and delicate detail. He inhaled deeply as his nose rank over the column of your throat, enjoying the aroma of the perfume. Seonghwa's soft kisses quickly grew harder, his tongue running over your skin. You whimpered when his teeth sank into the crook of your neck slightly. It morphed into a full moan when he sucked hard, and you know it left a mark. He continued this pattern, each new bruise setting your skin ablaze further. After what had to be the tenth or eleventh love bite, he pulled away, sitting back to admire his handiwork. Your face was flushed all the way down to your chest and the tips of your ears, your core already clenching around nothing. Seonghwa brought his fingers to your pussy, rubbing at your folds through your panties, the thin material not able to hide how wet you already were.

"Already so wet, love." He hummed, mouth back near your neck, his voice rumbling in your ear. Trying to ignore his fingers at your core, your hands came up and shakily tugged at his shirt, trying to get it off. He chuckled, helping you with the process, and before he could lean back over you, you sat up yourself. Your boyfriend rose an eyebrow in curiosity, then smirked when your lips met his neck in return. It was your birthday, and if you wanted to mark him back, he was going to let you. You couldn't use the same amount of force he had, and you were nervous to even just nibble his skin. After about three smaller marks, your lips found his again, and he rested back onto the bed, pulling you into his lap. You took your chance and found the waist band of his pants, the thin material not hiding his arousal much. As you pulled his cock out, your small hand wrapped around him, lips going back to his. Since you were distracted by the kiss, his own hand found your core, fingers having sneaked into your panties. You whimpered when he ran two fingers through your dripping folds, trying to maintain focus of your own task. Your other hand joined the first to cover him better, and he buried a long finger inside. He smirked when your walls clenched around the digit, pumping it a bit before easily adding a second. Your whine spurred him on, his own mind a bit foggy with your soft little hands wrapped around him. Seonghwa spread his fingers, pressing against your tight walls, getting you ready for him.

"Hold on, love." He stopped your own pumping fingers, removing his and leading you to lie back down. You nearly yelped in protest when he climbed off the bed, but you watched him remove the rest of his garments, then he lightly grabbed your ankle, and pulled you down to the edge of the bed. He tried not to laugh at your squeak at this, instead falling to his knees on the floor, making his face level with your pussy. Fully removing your panties, you mewled at his warm breath on your core, then gasped when his tongue ran through your folds.

"S-Seonghwa!"

"You're doing so good for me, love." He mumbled, then buried his tongue inside you, thumb going to your clit. Seonghwa could tell by your twitching hips and little whimpers you were already close. His tongue left your core, then ran up to flick at your clit and your orgasm hit you suddenly.

"Ah!" Your little whines rose and fell with the waves of your climax, leaving your quivering at the end.

"Such a good job." Seonghwa kissed your inner thigh, rising back off the floor, easily wrapping his arms around you, and getting you back further up the bed. Lying there, recovering, he unwrapped you like a present, slipping the lingerie fully off, leaving you bare before him. As he adjusted your legs, spreading them and leading you to wrap them around his waist, he kissed you. You whined louder, feeling the head of his cock rubbing through your folds. He could feel the vibrations of your moans as he slowly sank inside, slowly, inch by inch till he was inside to the hilt. Your boyfriend let you get accustomed to the stretch, kissing over your face lightly, telling you how wonderful you were.

"Move, please." Your voice was soft, fingers flying to his hair when he gave a slow shallow thrust. He built his pace steadily, you yelped when he was allowed a new angle after hiking your leg up higher, knee over his elbow.

"So good, love. You're so pretty, and cute…" His words were littered with little pants, your gummy walls hugged his cock so good. When he leaned back over to kiss you again, your leg over his arm shifted as well, allowing his cock to hit a whole new angle.

"S-Seonghwa!" You keened, feeling your next orgasm rising. He left the kiss, barely, lips still slightly touching, and his own thrusts were growing uneven.

"Hold on, love, let's do it together." He coached and you nodded, then he gave two more thrusts, even harder than the previous ones. Your high-pitched, quivering moan harmonized with his low groan, the heat of his release warmed your core and up into your tummy. As you both caught your breath, he wrapped his arms around you, sitting up with you, leaving you in his lap again, half-hard cock still inside. You hadn't noticed that he grabbed something else from the night stand, still in the haze of your release.

"I have one more present, love." He pressed his cheek to your hair when you had slumped forward to rest on his shoulder.

"Hm?" You let him help you sit up better, holding you at the waist so you didn't ragdoll back to the bed.

"I know you've never wanted this to be a big, fancy thing…" He presented the small box to you, and your heart beat increased, so much so he could feel it through his cock still in you.

"Hwa?" you breathed out, hand resting on his shoulder as he used his thumb to flick the box open. Inside was a thin silver ring, a small diamond resting in the middle, two small rubies resting next to the center gem.

"(Y/N), you're the love of my life, and I can't think of ever letting you go. Will you be my wife?" He knew you were already crying, without even having to look at your face. With hitching sobs, you nodded, not able to get words out, resting fully on his shoulder.

"Hm?"

"Yes." you whispered and he kissed the crown of your head, letting you rest on him so he could better use his hands. He slipped the ring on your finger, the size perfect of course, and you looked at it with teary eyes.

"I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, Seonghwa…" You were trying to control your crying, but it was hard. He had done so much for you, giving you the best birthday ever, and now he gave you your final present, which was by far the best one. When you sat up better, admiring the ring, his kiss pulled your attention away, and you clenched around his cock, hard again. He rolled forward again, your back hitting the bed, and he smiled when your now-ringed hand cupped his cheek. Something about seeing you with that ring on, knowing you would be his forever, really got to him. Seonghwa sat up more, this time slinging both of your legs over his elbows, the new angle brought a gasp out of you and when he began, he was immediately rougher than before. His hips snapped hard, and you yelped as he started, this time much more passionate then before. You were glad you were so well prepared from earlier, because this time he wasn't holding back, channeling everything he was feeling into each move.

"Oh, my god…" You gasped, a particularly hard thrust hitting just the right spot. Seonghwa led you to wrap your legs around his waist, propping himself up further to maintain the angle, slightly pressing you into the bed. His hands found yours, fingers linking through yours, pinning them to the bed above your head. He kissed you again, this time more tongue than anything, and you squeaked with each thrust. You could feel his emotion through every point of contact, and you marveled that he was going to be yours forever. He didn't pull back from the kiss, but his hips stuttered, both of you nearly there. At his final pump, you both fell over the edge, even more heat filled you, to the point it dripped out of you where his body met yours. Finally leaving the kiss so you could both catch your breath, Seonghwa pressed his forehead to yours.

"Happy birthday, love."

Masterlist

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa #birthday fic

[yanderepuck]

Me?? Writing Mozart???? Anyone writing Mozart is a surprise surprise tbh. I bully him too much and therefore it's so hard for me to write him. Is this good? Not exactly. But the Mozart simps can't say I never did anything for them

BUT YOU'RE ALSO GETTING TWO SMUT FICS IN ONE DAY??? let's just say I'm feeling some type of way. You bitches getting fed today.

Mozart has been living outside the mansion for a few months now. He has an apartment in the city so that he wouldn't have to take a carriage back and forth.

For a while you were going back and forth between the mansion and his apartment. There are plenty of days where he is working nonstop and you try to take care of him and try to get him to take a break but it's no use.

"Süße," you call out for him from the couch but he doesn't move. "Süße," you look over at him. He's at his desk, writing music or replying to letters you assume. You pout. "Süße."

You know he can hear you. Why isn't he answering. "Wolfgang!" it took you so long to get used to calling him that. It still feels weird. You sit up on the couch, about to get to if he didn't hear you this time.

"Hm? What is it?" He still doesn't look up, but at least he answers you.

"Didn't you hear me?"

"I did. You just didn't say it right," he chuckles at you while you huff.

You get up and go over to him, putting your arms over his shoulders. "That's what you call me. How am I saying it wrong?"

"It's süßer for me," he drops his own and holds one of your hands.

"Oh wow, so different," you pout, but you still kiss the top of his head. You try to pull him from his chair. "Come spend time with me," you whine. "You have been glued to your desk for days."

You keep trying to pull him up but he's not budging. He laughs softly seeing how determined you are. "Okay okay. Just let me finish writing this letter," he kisses the hand he's holding and you let him go.

"Okay, but that's it for today!"

You let him finish writing it while you go into the kitchen to figure out what to make for dinner. It was getting to be around the time you should start cooking.

You get a few things out and set them on the counter. "I wonder if he'll want to eat tonight," you talk to yourself and turn around and see Mozart walking in.

You smile and go up to him to hug him tightly.

"You've been so mean to me," you look up at him pouting.

"What? I haven't done anything."

"Exactly," you glare at him. "I need attention."

He then hugs you back, holding you close. "Attention? Like this?" He kisses you, making you him softly.

"Mmm, more please," he kisses you again and you kiss back. "You taste like coffee," you giggle.

"I have been drinking quite a bit."

"No more for the rest of the night. You need proper sleep," you kiss him again before letting him go to go back to the counter. "Do you want to eat with me tonight?"

"Depends. What are you making?" He walks over to see what you pulled out

"Nothing too spicy, I promise," you chuckle, remembering last time he tried something new from you. You added way too many spices for him to handle.

He seems to think for a moment. "I'll try it."

"Perfect! I'll start cooking soon then."

You smile and take his hand, taking him back to the living room. All you want is to curl up next to him for a while, have him play with your hair while you relax. Which does happen.

You sit in his lap, leaning against him while he is brushing his fingers through your hair, getting out some loose knots. You lift your head up to kiss him.

It was only meant to be a little kiss, but once he kissed you back you didn't want to stop. He didn't try to pull away either. You both kept going.

Shifting on his lap, you face him, your legs on either side. His hands rest on your hips. You moan softly, arms going over his shoulders.

You can't help but start to rock your hips, getting a moan out of him. Your grip onto his shirt, getting more worked up.

He stills your hips, holding you down.

"What do you think you're doing," it's a lighthearted tease. He wants to hear you say it.

"C-can we go to the bedroom. Please," you start to whine.

His hands slide down your body and before you know it he's standing and holding you. You always forget about that vampiric strength, even still, you wrap your legs around his waist and hold on around his neck.

As he carries you, you start kissing his neck, lightly nibbling at his skin.

He drops you on the bed, giving you the view of him taking his shirt off. You sit there and watch rather than getting your own clothes off.

Mozart tosses his shirt to the side and looks down at you. "I can't do much if you keep your clothes on."

You immediately blush and fumble with your clothes, wanting them off as quickly as you can. You're clothes are barely to the floor and Mozart gets on top of you, kissing you roughly.

Keeping your lips together, you move further back onto the bed so you aren't along the edge, Mozart following you, not breaking the kiss until you lay back.

Lifting up one of your legs he kisses your ankle as he brings it over his shoulder.

"You're so beautiful," he smiles, getting you to blush before he slides into you.

You moan, quickly trying to bite your lip to stay quiet.

With one hand on your leg and another on your hip he starts to thrust into you.

He keeps a steady rhythm, but then again why wouldn't he. Getting more comfortable, he gets rougher. Nearly pulling out all the way before thrusting back in, making sure he's going as deep as he can.

He pulls your leg up further, redirecting your hips, hitting you in a new spot. Your moans get louder and he quickly reaches up to cover your mouth.

"Be quiet," he kisses. "The window is open."

You completely forgot about that. The window right above the headboard of the bed was open, letting in a light breeze. You were wondering why you occasionally got a chill.

You whine under his hand, not able to stop moaning. "Th-then close it."

You grit your teeth as his hips only snap harder. You swear the sound of his hips rutting against you is louder than your moans.

He takes his hand off your mouth and kisses you instead, causing both of you to lose your breath quickly. Panting in each other's mouths.

You wrap your arms around him, leaving red streaks along his back. Your leg that was over this shoulder is now around his waist, keeping him close.

His fingers interlock with yours, holding them down into the mattress.

"You feel close, süße," his lips trail down to your neck. "Why don't I help with that."

"Wolfg-ahh!"

His fangs piece your skin, giving him the pleasure of your blood and giving you the pleasure of reaching your climax. He didn't seem to care about the window being open at that moment.

Your moans went on for as long as his fangs were in you. His hands squeeze yours, his movement suddenly gets faster, until he pushes himself as deep as he can go, filling you with cum.

You squeeze his hands back, buck your hips up, moaning with him.

Mozart licks the bite clean and sits up, licking a few drops of blood off his lips while looking at you.

Your chest heaves, and you whine when he pulls out of you.

You don't feel like making dinner now, but you don't want to be done with him yet.

When Mozart lays down next to you, you sit up, getting on his lap.

He looks up at you surprised. "What are you-"

"I don't want to be done just yet," you smirk, sitting yourself down on his cock

~~

Tag list~

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @vampiricpancake @lulu-the-smol-floof @tako-cafe @floydsteeth

#this may be completely ooc for all i know #i based this all around two lines #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp mozart #smut smut smut

[myheartalivewrites]

20 questions for fic writers

Hey @cha-melodius thanks for tagging me in this!

How many works do you have on ao3?

23

What's your total ao3 word count?

329,905

What fandoms do you write for?

RWRB and A Marvellous Light (The Last Binding trilogy). I've been thinking about writing for We Could be So Good by Cat Sebastian since I read it last week. I loved it so much I binge read 3 other books by the same author straight after, and then turned right back to WCBSG. Book rec for everyone who's not read it!

Top five fics by kudos:

Deep Blue

Just Like That.

Oxford Days

In His Wildest Dreams

A tie for fifth! Have One (On Me) and Tumbled Down and Tangled Up

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! Unless they're a bit dodge lol

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This is the question that reminds me I've done this game before hehe. I'm only interested in happy endings so this is hard to choose, but Don't Wanna Be A Fool For You is quite angsty and ends just as they're getting over the angst, so I have to go with that.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I always write happy endings, BUT, if I must choose, I'm gonna go with a non-RWRB fic here. in your room, like a temple is an epilogue of sorts to A Marvellous Light, and it makes me SO HAPPY to have written this settled future for Robin and Edwin.

Do you get hate on fics?

Not usually, though I did get a couple of annoying comments on my first threesome fic from people who thought their own vision of monogamy for Alex and Henry was something they had to come and tell me about 🙄

Do you write smut?

hahahahhaaaaaaaa yes

Craziest crossover:

Never done one

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No! Someone did ask me about translating Deep Blue but I don't think they've followed through with it. I'd love it though

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No

All time favorite ship?

Alex and Henry

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oooh, I don't have any WIPs on ao3 to feel guilty about. What sits on my hard drive is between me and my atheist god (also me)

What are your writing strengths?

Yikes, ok! Here are things I like about my writing: I like the way I write smut that's super emotional AND super hot, and all the different ways I've come up to make smut scenes different from each other (because writing them can sometimes feel repetitive from my perspective). I like the way I play with rhythm in sentences and build tension in scenes. I like the way I build emotional and sexual tension in a piece overall. Please no one drop into the notes to tell me they disagree 😂

What are your writing weaknesses?

I CANNOT come up with external obstacles! Whenever I'm trying to plot something out and I'm trying to come up with BIG PLOT REASONS to keep people apart, my brain just freezes. I love internal obstacles, the emotional reasons why people choose to do the things they do, but as for external things to move the plot along (think Jeffrey Richard leaking emails, Queen Mary telling Henry how to live his life) I'm just... ultimately uninterested in them. Which is fine if it's a choice, and I love a lot of writing just like that, but I wish my brain could at least TRY.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Like it.

First fandom you wrote in?

RWRB

Favorite fic you've written?

Haha good one. Changes all the time. Current fave: Paper Chains, I think (a personal stab to my heart how much it's underrated). I tried something new for me with the structure, and I think the emotional punches hit so hard, I'm so proud of it. Or maybe the new one for RBB, called Foxden Park. Coming soon!

No pressure tags (and sorry if you've already done this and I've missed it!): @thesleepyskipper @firenati0n @welcometololaland @inexplicablymine @sparklepocalypse

@onetwistedmiracle @tintagel-or-cockleshells @historicallysam @cultofsappho @14carrotghoul

@suseagull04 @magicandarchery @itsmaybitheway @porcelainmortal @anincompletelist and anyone who fancies joining in! 😘

#about me #tag games #my writing #rwrb fanfic

[sapphire-weapon]

Thinking about the complete and total role reversal that must have inevitably happened after Leon and Ashley got home from Spain and how how quickly the fairy tale came unraveled as soon as they touched back down into reality.

Fairytale Leon: The strong, honorable, fearless knight who walks through fire and water and mud and shit with his head held high and moves forward, undaunted, towards his goal. Feels more like a force of nature than a man, as he leaves a trail of violence and chaos in his wake, with the blood of his enemies sprayed across his face and in his hair. He's in charge and inescapable; woe betide the man who crosses his path.

Reality Leon: Soft-spoken and almost demure, with his eyes almost constantly turned downcast as he walks to wherever he's told to go -- an unquestioning "Yes, sir" following every order. His body armor has been traded in for a well-pressed suit that seems almost too clean -- and despite having been tailored specifically for his measurements, doesn't look like it fits him right. Always seems at a distance, as though he's perpetually standing just out of reach.

Fairytale Ashley: The warm-hearted and free-spirited princess fair who keeps the light of hope burning and charms the honorable knight with her easy smile and welcoming personality. Her presence is like a home away from home, as she's fair-minded and treats everyone with respect. She's exactly as strong as she needs to be, as she's inspired by the strength of those around her -- which then inspires those people further in return.

Reality Ashley: Cold and closed off for the sake of keeping up appearances. Too afraid to show any emotion that's too strong or hold an opinion that's too controversial due to the looming consequence of potential backlash. Everything in her life is dictated by her station, forcing her into a selfish and self-centered lifestyle that sees her only interacting with her Equals.

Thinking about Leon and Ashley passing each other in the halls of the White House or at some official government event and only allowing themselves a quick second or two to look at the other as though they're just window-shopping for something that they know is forever out of their reach.

Thinking about the cognitive dissonance of "I know you and feel safe with you and want to be with you" lingering from the memory of their shared fairy tale being paired with the reality of "I don't really know you at all, do I?" and the forbidden longing that never gets addressed or resolved, causing each of them to have a certain level of identity crisis.

Thinking about how surprisingly and upsettingly different it feels when they finally take a second to acknowledge and talk to each other. Neither of them really knows what to say or how to address the other. The thought of casually putting a hand on Ashley's shoulder feels invasive and almost wrong to Leon, despite having held her in his arms so, so many times. Ashley wants nothing more than to reach out and touch him -- to adjust the lapel of his suit jacket or straighten his tie, but for some reason it feels like there's an invisible wall between them -- that, even if she were to reach out, her touch would never really reach him. Because they're strangers to each other now in a strange setting, and all of the rules have been rewritten, and nothing feels like it should.

#resident evil 4 #leon kennedy #ashley graham #eagleone #WHY DO I HAVE TO WORK FOR A LIVING I WANT TO WRITE THIS FIC

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

the heist!mark brainrot is consuming me…, just imagine mark n the viewer meeting for the first time as little kids to shoplift candy or smth together ╥﹏╥

the (brain)rot consumes!! I can relate

my dear anon... LISTEN. I am a big advocate for childhood friends captaineer, it's one of my favourite headcanons, but a childhood friends AU for the heist partners? that's something I hadn't considered until now. and it's adorable. I had to write something for it asap because I was INSPIRED. I hope you enjoy💖 thanks for sparking the idea!

Heist!Mark x reader (not explicitly romantic at all it's more about the friendship in this one) | Words: 1,317

You are in the kitchen of your shared home base, unloading the groceries your heist partner has just bought, when you pick up a bag of sour candies, smiling quietly to yourself. He's always been a fan of them.

Turning the packet in your hands, an old memory drifts to the surface of your mind:

You don't remember exactly how long ago it was, but you couldn't have been much older than maybe ten.

Your father was busy working, and had reluctantly sent you to the store with a small list after you insisted you could handle it on your own.

You slipped the folded piece of paper out of your school bag and scanned the list of items. At the bottom was a note that read, ‘Remember to stay hydrated, kiddo! :)’

You walked around the supermarket collecting the few things on your list and placed them in your trolley. On your way to the checkout, you passed through the candy aisle and slowed to eye the products on display.

‘Aren't you going to get anything?’

Your head perked up, shocked at the sudden voice addressing you.

There was a boy next to you with dark hair, looking at you inquisitively. He seemed to be about your age. He might have even been slightly shorter than you.

You must have been standing here for longer than you realised if it had prompted him to ask you about it.

You shook your head.

‘Why not?’

‘Oh, um. My dad only gave me enough money for what we need,’ you said timidly, showing him the list.

‘Ohh, that's too bad.’ Then, a small yet undeniably mischievous smile appeared on his face. He glanced discreetly up and down the aisle. ‘You know you can just — ’ and he took one of the small packets of candy off the shelf and slipped it swiftly into his pocket.

Your eyes went wide, stunned. Both from the fact that he was suggesting you steal, and at the speed and subtly with which he'd enacted the crime, as if he'd done it dozens of times before, if not more.

‘What are you doing?’ you spoke in a harsh whisper.

‘It's no big deal,’ he said in a lower voice than before, but one that still felt entirely too loud. He slipped another bag into his pocket.

You did not want to associate with this boy any longer.

You pushed your trolley away and towards the checkout, handing your items to the cashier.

You were unhappy to find the boy waiting for you when you exited the store, shopping bag in your hand.

‘What do you want?’ you asked, a little standoffishly, frowning at him.

‘There's no need to be rude,’ he said with a small pout. ‘Y'know, I think I might have seen you at school a few times.’

To your dismay, he followed along as you started walking home. When you pressed him, he simply said, ‘Hey, I'm not following you! I live down this way too, I promise!’

As the two of you walked, he chatted annoyingly by your side. What was more annoying was that you found you didn't mind his presence. You were a quiet kid and you didn't have many friends. Having someone to walk home with you was kind of a nice change of pace.

Just as you thought this, though, you immediately chided yourself mentally. You and him were not friends. You weren't going to be friends. This boy was a criminal and he wasn't even sorry about it.

You frowned in thought.

Oh no, what if he got caught? What if you went to juvenile jail for being an accomplice to theft? What would Dad say? What would Mom say? What if—’

‘Hey, are you listening to me? You haven't responded to anything I'm saying.’

You simply sighed as he pulled you out of your thoughts.

‘Are you still mad about the candy? I told you it's not a big deal.’

You stopped as you realised you were approaching your front door. The journey seemed to have gone a little faster than usual.

‘Really?’ you finally replied in an exasperated tone. ‘That was no big deal for you? That was stealing. Stealing is wrong.’ You couldn't believe you had to spell it out to him.

‘They won't notice a couple tiny bags of candy are gone. My mom says big companies that own supermarkets are greedy. They make loads of money anyway and don't pay enough taxes.’

‘Does your mom know you're a thief?’

‘W- well, no, but-’

‘That’s what I thought.’

He looked a little disheartened.

‘Please don't tell anyone. I'm sorry if I upset you,’ he said quietly, looking down.

You hadn't really expected an apology from someone like him. You sighed again.

‘I won't tell, but don't expect me to just go along with it. And don't act like we're best buds all of a sudden. We don't know each other. You don't even know my name!’

‘Well, what's your name?’

You gave him a slightly surprised look before telling him your name, albeit hesitantly.

‘Look, I have to get going now…’

You fumbled with the shopping bag as you reached into your coat pocket, feeling for the house key, when you suddenly felt something that wasn't there before. It made a crinkling sound beneath your touch.

‘You didn't.’ You pulled the candy out of your pocket. ‘When did you—?’

The boy grinned at you.

‘I thought you could have one of mine.’

‘I don't want your stolen candy!’

‘Judging by how you looked at it earlier, I think you do. And besides, stolen treats taste better!’ he called out, already walking away.

‘Wh- SHH!’ You hoped none of your neighbours had heard.

‘I'm Mark by the way! See ya, buddy!’

You stood outside the front door, dumbfounded.

Finally you let yourself in. Your dad wouldn't be home yet for a while.

You put the shopping away and sat down at your kitchen table, staring at the stolen goods in front of you.

You could try to put it back but… that would be more suspicious.

You figured, the deed had been done. There was nothing you could do now, so you may as well make the most of it.

You tore the edge of the packet and popped one of the candies in your mouth, savouring the sweet and sour combination on your tongue.

Maybe Mark was right. It did taste extra good. But maybe it was just because you'd been craving it.

What a weird kid.

‘Stealing is wrong, huh…?’ you mumble under your breath. You look down at the candy in your hands. It's not the same brand as the one from back then, but you imagine it tastes more or less the same, from what you remember.

Present day Mark is the one to pull you out of your musings.

‘Hey, what's with that face you're making? I know that look, buddy. Are you contemplating your life choices??’

You chuckle softly.

‘Just… got reminded of something. I suppose I got lost in nostalgia for a moment.’

‘Oh yeah? Penny for your thoughts?’

You turn and smile at him.

‘This just made me think of an annoying little boy stealing candy from a supermarket. And his reluctant acquaintance who ended up getting dragged into his antics for the foreseeable future.’

It takes a second for it to click.

‘Ohhhhh.’ You watch as realisation turns to him smiling fondly at the memories, which turns to him snapping his attention to you with a fake-offended look.

You laugh at his expression.

‘Wait, hey! Annoying?!’

‘Mhm.’

‘Excuse you, I was a wonderful, sweet and positively charming child.’

Your laughter rings out in the kitchen, full of mirth, and he shakes his head at you with a familiar lopsided grin, and you are so grateful for the cheeky little boy who approached you that day.

#feels kinda weird calling it candy instead of sweets. but I did it bc they presumably live in america #I'm working on at least two other fics rn but I had to stop everything to write this #I finally submitted a uni thing I've been doing for a while so I felt like I deserved a break #and I sat down and wrote majority of this in one sitting lmao #lmao it ended up being my longest fic to date??? WHAT THE HECK?! #BTW AGAIN. NOT ENCOURAGING STEALING THAT'S BAD DON'T DO IT #also yes y/n's dad is the one the only stan the water man #I hc stan to have been the captain's actual dad so I just went 'wth why not in this universe too?' #I really enjoyed this one #thank you again anon #also. I looked up pictures of young markiplier out of curiosity and to get into the headspace Ig/get a mental image for this #and guys. I highly encourage you to do the same. #HE WAS SUCH A LITTLE GUY🥺 #and he looked as cheeky and mischievous as he often does now lolol #that also inspired parts of this haha #I tried to write a young heist!mark in a way that I think? would make sense for him #bit of a kleptomaniac maybe lol #and possibly more seemingly extroverted than I wanted but I had to kick off the interaction somehow #amee writes #a heist with markiplier #ahwm #partners in crime #heist mark x y/n #heist mark x reader #heist mark #heist!mark #markiplier egos #markiplier cu #asks #anonymous

[moregraceful]

I have posted 64 hrpf works...I should do something when I hit 69 lmao. Like how the y/n girlies do little celebrations when they hit follower counts? A kasper moregraceful celebration of an arbitrary milestone

#the celebration is i leave hrpf fandom lol #and finally know peace in my life #JK WE LIVE DELICIOUSLY #the celebration is i look how i have spent my one wild and precious life #and write some weird fic #who am i kidding yo i am gonna forget and it's going to be like fic abt the oldest man on the planet and a cuda rookie #the celebration is i finish the fic i promised people last year #[staring at the jani/roope fic in the eye so as not to show fear] i am not afraid to keep on living... #i'm posting a lot but today my tasks are a) clean the living room and dining room and b) come up with prompts for 4th line grind fest #and c) do a bunch of work for a fellowship cohort i am facilitating this fall #i don't want to clean and i don't feel creative and i forget why i didn't want to do the other one but it's probably bc i had an anxiety #dream abt it #dude i had an insane dream abt george springer recently and it was like...ok kasper is this is a symptom of something #are you well? like are we good here or- #i mean really what can i say about george springer. he's so [foghorn] #fresno oiler.txt #i feel like there was a point to this post but idk what it was....sorry

[petrichorium]

Happy anniversary of the time I wrote 20k words in a week and got ghosted by the artist who was supposed to make art for the fic lol

#it’s been a year I can be bitter now right #for a SINGLE DAD BAKUGO FIC r u kidding I should have had artists lining up to make the art and instead I get shafted #I don’t fully blame the Big Bang staff. I think it could’ve been handled better but it’s mostly on the artist #but wow that rlly happened huh LMFAOOOOOO #shoutout to Shay for being the most supportive friend through all that truly #I got to live vicariously through her assigned artist who was amazing && also she drew me some stuff that was adorable 🥺 #if anyone wants to know why sleeping is taking so long to write it’s bc I was fueled by spite and a deadline for the first chapter and now #I am just. kinda bitter and sad abt the rest #which sucks bc I love the fic I rlly do #hopefully I can get over it bc it’s silly to let something like that ruin the fic entirely #SO insane tho. the way I was the only one who made the cut and didn’t get art too #not even bc I didn’t get picked but bc my artist was a sham. nice. love that truly #the staff was okay. I’m not gonna pretend I felt supported but I get that it’s a complicated and stressful event #and it was a difficult situation bc my artist insisted they were working on stuff. never got an official ‘sorry I’m dropping out’ message #so I get it. but I’m also still pissed :) abt the whole situation not. at any singular member or staff or anything #mostly at the artist #but again could have been handled better fr

[videogamelover99]

Just saw a post and I guess I'm gonna have to bite the bullet and say this controversial hot take but:

If you are posting something for free, no one owes you interaction for your work.

Not likes, or reblogs, or comments or kudos. No one is obligated to give you feedback. No one is obligated to give me feedback. At the end of the day, you're posting something because you decided you want it to be out there, and no positive interaction with your work is guaranteed.

Is it common curtesy to leave a like on a piece of art or writing you enjoy? Sure.

Is it benefitial to you, the reader, to leave a comment, because if you want to see more from an artist or writer, interacting with their work will make it more likely they will post more? Sure.

No one is obligated to do anything here. It's all about if there is incentive, and if posting online is the equivalent of posting on a locked page that no one sees, those insentives for the artist are gone. They can still draw, but they don't have to post any of their work.

Everyone talks about how unfair it is that us creators don't get enough feedback, but like, what about the other way around? Leaving a kudos or likes isn't much, but leaving a comment? Some tags? And receiving radio silence in answer? Yeah, that kinda sucks too. What incentives do people have for leaving comments? Because that still takes a good amount of effort if it's not a generic "nice".

#and vice versa #no one owes anyone art or fic you just share it if you want to #this isnt book club guys or your inner fandom circle ppl have lives #also like another hot take but sometimes #people dont leave comments cause your work doesnt resonate with them #i try to leave tags on art i reblog but sometimes i just dont like it enough above a like and thats?? fine??? #ik when ppl comment on my stuff they REALLY like it #they comment cause they WANT to not cause they feel obligated to #how do i trust comments if fandom culture turns into 'youre an asshole if you dont comment' #id rather ppl be honest #i see the difference between when i post for an obscure character vs when i post for a popular ship and its just the reality of things #on the plus side you get a smaller more intimate fandom when youre creating for something less popular that you like #as for incentives for readers: try to reply?? especially on ao3 #it feels so nice when the author replies to your comment like seriously #this is why i wish you could like comments on ao3 or tags on tumblr #like you could still like the reblog but it ends up spamming your own feed which is...really annoying #ok ok rant over #fandom #writing #art

[wizardnuke]

the shadowgast pacific rim au that exists in my brain.

#LONG TAGS LORE DUMP FOR A FIC I'M NEVER GONNA WRITE PROBABLY #deirta is pentecost she lost her husband in a battle and piloted the jaeger to shore alone - verin is tendo he could fight but deirta #doesn't want either of her sons in a jaeger ever. verin is okay enough with this. essek is not. #caleb ran a triple arm jaeger with astrid and wulf and lost his mind a little bit when they died. he felt them die. the added stress of #piloting a jaeger to shore on his own put him in the hospital and then a psych ward for three months #before he began helping with wall construction as equipment maintenance. clearly this is still a magic au and tech = magic etc etc #I CANNOT stress enough that jaegers are powered by luxon beacons. #anyway essek is in mako's position and caleb is beckett. the restless assistant and the tired veteran #essek chooses caleb's candidates - the candidate process is a little more complicated because these fantasy jaegers #work off of both magic and manual physical effort - candidates have to be evenly matched in both physical and mental fields #blumendrei only worked because caleb and astrid combined matched wulf in physicality. astrid and wulf matched caleb in casting. #it was. unhealthily competitive between them at times and astrid was the worst about it. he still misses them every single day. #it's like. shit hurts to do when one arm or leg is weaker than the other. it's like that. it has to match #essek and caleb have little noodle arms and truly insane skills w casting. so they're compatable. essek is sure. caleb does the same #'why do you keep making that face' bit like beckett did bc he's tired of essek's attitude and deirta's flat dismissal of him #they metaphorically roll the same exact initiative and the fight ends in caleb casting firebolt/essek casting sapping sting #and the two of them both use their reaction to counterspell. they both move to cast again when deirta is like Okay Stop Fighting I Get It #heehoo. the first time they drift together caleb leans that essek secretly recovered a beacon from a downed jaeger and has been using it to #advance his research while passing himself off as a genius - not that he isn't. he just has another stepping stone as well. #essek gets to live thru caleb's experience of feeling two (2) people die at the same exact moment. yeah verin has to pull that fuckin plug. #other notes. veth and yeza r the scientists. OBVIOUSLY veth drifts with a kaiju brain like are u KIDDING me #other jaeger teams are fjord+jester yasha+beau and the tealeaf triplets.

[bloggrgirl]

There are quite a few good dnf fics but finding them in the thousands of works under the dnf tag on ao3 is a struggle, ngl...

SADF was... definitely one of the better fics in terms of writing quality but it was way too long and stretched out. I felt like the plot could be resolved in half the word count and it would improve the pacing.

Anyway, are you taking any more recommendations and do you have any good fics you managed to find and would share?

kay i'll check it out but keep that in mind. i'd definitely be open to recommendations, tho i might not get to them anytime soon bc i tend to just read whatever sounds good to me atm rather than going in any kind of order. i really only have one dnf fic i feel like didn't make me cringe in some way but i still felt like it was kinda out of character so i don't really wanna recommend it (i need to protect my brand lol).

#if you're willing to get a little weird with fandoms i can rec you fics that will knock your socks off #asks #there's definitely some wack writing in dnf but some of them i think i'm honestly not giving a fair shot because of the wack plots #i think part of it is that all au fics for dnf feel super weird #like no sorry dream and george do not work at a gamestop together. they do not go to high school together. they were not childhood friends #maybe it's that i've never seen dream so i can't imagine him doing stuff like that #or maybe it's that i can't imagine george having moved to the usa before now because then he would have a different personality y'know? #like once you start changing some things you have to account for ripple effects which sometimes you don't necessarily want #canon compliant and canon divergent ftw #especially since the 'source material' if you will for dnf is so thematically rich it's literally like a trope/au in and of itself #like why are you putting them in college when you have the already epic story of longtime friends who flirt and one has never seen the other #and is moving halfway across the world to live with him #sorry but no au will live up to that

[cheswirls]

sits down to write fic and writes 3k of notes for it instead, spends two separate hrs in the middle of it dwelling on pointless things, there were 8k notes prev so i def added almost half that amnt, have not written a single thing even tho i set down at 8p to write a scene and made a conscious decision to do this instead of starting laundry between 8 and 9 (laundromat closes at ten), it is three am currently,,,,,,

#ik the answer is yes BUT still gonna ask rhetorically #hey uh you ever sit down to write and five hours pass and you have written nothing #this doesn't happen often but i do have times where i want to write smth #then end up making notes for other scenes in the fic instead of actively writing prose #good in the long run and it is technically adding to the story!! somewhat!!! #but is it really writing???? not in my eyes no #but this is leagues better than when i was in hs and all my fic notes lived rent free in my head #at least now when i don't touch a fic for several months ill have some idea of what's going on when i go back to it #also dunno when i made it a habit to have fic notes at the start of the fic doc but i like this better #than having random handwritten notes scattered among planner / uni spirals / class handouts / paper at random #it's nice to have everything in one place #and if it gets annoying to navigate all i have to do is place a marker at start of prose #and format it as a heading so i can pull up the doc outline and click to get to it #but enough abt ease of access!!!! #i said i would eat at one when it was 12 how is it 3 already aaaaaaa #at least i am done. with notes. so now i can start writing for realsies #god it jus hit that this is why i can't jump freely into writing an ongoing longfic.... #it takes so much effort to get back into it and i gotta have the time to do so #so sort n parse thru what i have so if i have an hr or only like 3 and it's been mths since ive looked at a fic #then i gotta put it aside again bc that's not enough time to absorb everything and actually get to writing #i rly need to like. cliffnotes all my longer ongoing fic. so much work but that's rly the obv solution

[travalerray]

fanfic writing is always like:

questionable characterisation (not really familiar yet) => oh this is actually good => questionable characterisation (projecting)

#looking at my m/dzs fics and uh #uhhhhhh #J/C and L/WJ are the biggest victims of this #which is why I make a point to revisit the novel when I can esp for longfics #but sometimes I go back and see ''oh I really wrote this one shot well. Perhaps my writing at the beginning was actually good?'' and get #slapped in the face by four idiots and the City of ghosts #now that I think about it. Writing L/XC consistently as having an overprotective complex over his didi and writing W/WX having a weird #complex over his shidi is making me laugh so much #kk's rambles tag #having written and changed my opinions about the characters during the course of a singular fic only happened for tainted Ambitions #so you have the strange shift from the revenge fantasy drama to something that might actually be compelling if done well #(I want to do it well but I don't want to touch b/nha with a ten foot pole these days. Not because of the fandom but because I don't like #the source material anymore. Controversial opinion but anyways) #my opinions about dg/rp didn't change much during fic writing nor did the characterisation change that much #even if it has the second highest fic count after m/dzs. Hm. #probably because i mostly write for it as a writing exercise #and the one I did start as a proper fic is abandoned because I lost energy #(my personal opinion is that my j/c POV is the most suited to my writing due to my tendency to make similar protagonists in my original #works. It's a little funny because his manner of speech in his internal narrative is plenty similar to both Romila and Rajanya in the #''why in the ever living Fuck'' even if they all have different motives. #or maybe I am too used to writing cranky people with unresolved and unrequited love. Anyways)

[rogersstevie]

i do think sometimes need to remember when something is an issue in fanon and that canon is not necessarily Like That

#like yes in fic people write sam just to exist as steve and bucky's therapist and whatnot and that sucks #obvs i can't speak for bucky and fatws but that doesn't exist to me but in canon steve certain did not do that #nor did he like ruin sam's life lmao he gave him outs 'you got out for a good reason' and 'you don't have to come with me' #like sam is a grown adult who made his own decisions why can't you recognize that like you can argue from a CREATIVE choice #that it is unfair that so much of what we got wrt sam centered around steve #(though they WERE captain america movies sometimes people get so mad when the focus is on the main character #like yeah bestie that's how normal stories work like i understand if you want someone else to be the main character or whatever #but the fact is it's whoever the creator chose so either live with it or find fic or move on I'M LOOKING AT YOU TEEN WOLF FANS) #but like he was not beholden to steve's whims and he certainly didn't play steve's therapist outside of that scene at the VA #which was barely anything honestly like it was an important scene obviously but it wasn't anything too deep in terms of steve's issues #like steve was not talking to anyone about his grief and trauma lol that's how the mcu pretended it didn't exist and people fell for it #anyway sometimes it's like okay be mad at the fandom don't be mad about a character who did not actually do that thing

[appalachianapologies]

Paradigm Check-in

welcome to a new series- that i'm going to call "paradigm pwednesday" because there aren't any days of the week that start with p so pwednesday is just going to have to- where i write something in paradigm and share it because otherwise i'm never going to finish this book

8/2 (somewhere in chapter seven)

But now she's at the motel, alone, and it's been hours. Sid had two people to take down tonight, so it certainly makes sense that he'd be taking longer than Delilah, but it still doesn't make it any easier to handle. She's not so much worrying about the man as wondering what it would mean in terms of Marcus. If Sid got caught, would Marcus blame her? Probably not. They're partners, sure, but it's clear that Marcus thinks of Sid in a higher regard than Delilah. It might make sense for Marcus to blame Sid if something went wrong with her, but not the other way around. Sid has at least twenty years of this under his belt, which means if anything happens it's his own damn fault. Somehow, the thought isn't as comforting as she thinks it should be. 

#i have this thing where i find it unreasonable for myself to not write a book quickly because somewhere along the line #i have equated fic writing with novel writing #and my brain goes ''if you can write a book-length fic in a few months why can't you write a book-length book in a few months?'' #so anyway now i feel guilty for writing fics and bad for not writing books #congrats girl you ruined the one hobby you love #i tried to write some mac fic the other day and instead just felt dread and guilt #because i knew there were numerous other things i should be writing with my limited free time #i think i just need to get it in my brain that working on certain projects doesn't mean i don't care about other projects #it just means at that moment that i have inspiration for thing A and if i tried to work on thing B all that would happen is #i'd feel super frustrated and want to bang my head against the computer #i need to shake my reflection in the mirror and say ''it's okay if you work on other projects if that's what brings you joy at that moment' #wips are never abandoned they are just patiently waiting their turn and i will stand by that fact forever #ugh. anyway i feel anxious this morning thinking about this so good for me you took a perfectly good morning and you gave it #anxiety. look at what you did. #and it's so stupid because it's not like i don't want to write this book #if i didn't want to write it i simply would stop writing it. it sucks because i really DO want to write this book it's just being annoying #atm #anyway the moral of the story is sometimes writing happens and sometimes writing doesn't happen and sometimes it happens to the wrong thing #and i'm just going to have to live with that #ok i gotta get out of these tags now. final words being: be kind to yourself be patient with yourself love yourself you got this #(to both myself and to you <3) #also for the record i am totally okay lol. every author goes through mental blocks and this is hardly my first and it won't be my last #i know it'll pass i just need to take a breathe and be kind to myself #ok new wednesday challenge everyone take a moment to take a breathe and be kind to yourself. this is a threat

[sundrop-writes]

Careful - Chapter One

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter One: Over Yet

We can go farther, beyond the end.

Summary:

You and Spencer broke up more than four years ago. Since then, he has tried his best to forget about you. He has pushed all of his feelings down - locked them away into a little box that he never touches.

That is, until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being stalked and killed by a man who kills single mothers. (And he quickly realizes that your son could be his.)

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.

Word Count: 5,900

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Please keep in mind - I am not doing a taglist for this series, so please do not ask to be tagged in future parts. I do not do taglists. If you want to be notified when future parts of this fic are posted, you can follow this blog and turn on notifications here - I don't make personal posts on this blog, it is just pure posts of my fanfiction. Or you can subcribe on AO3 to get email notifications when this series is posted. You can also view the posting schedule on the series materlist and check @tenpintsof-sundrop for any information about possible changes to that schedule.

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of dead bodies, the underlying misogyny that comes with a man killing women, mentions of children being orphaned due to their mothers being killed (though there is no mentions of other living family members taking care of those children - you can imaging that they still have nice families to take care of them if you want, I didn’t fill in that detail), mentions of children being in proximity of a serial killer; exes to lovers - the reader and Spencer broke up and the reason why will be revealed later; mentions of pregnancy/mentions of the reader having a child; mentions of sex that resulted in a child/pregnancy (there is no detailed sex scenes/detailed smut in this chapter, but there will be in other chapters); mentions of JJ x Will; the reader’s looks are described as vaguely as possible; passing mention of incest (in the context of a historical figure); all statements that Spencer makes toward the end of this chapter were heavily researched and are factual; I think that’s about it?

A/N: The reader and Spencer originally dated around Season 1/Season 2 - I state at some point during the fic that they dated for 3 years before breaking up, so they started dating when he was very early Season 1 baby Spence (or even before Season 1) and they broke up around Season 2. So technically this fic takes place around Season 6 - but because I didn't want to distract from the plot, I didn't mention any of the stuff going on with Emily or any of those major canon plot points, and I am using pictures of later versions of Spencer just because that's who I was picturing in my head while writing this. But that's how the math works out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!! This chapter is more of an introduction before we really get into the meat of things, but I still hope that you guys like it.

...

The team had been in Portland for three days.

No leads, a confusing, inconsistent profile - huge pieces missing that would likely give them the real answers. 

A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months - leaving them chasing their tails, looking for answers. 

“Okay, so, let’s take a step back.” Hotch sighed. “What do we know so far?” 

He leaned against a nearby table, looking at everyone with the hope of reassessing the case from a different angle. The hope of talking it out to get some answers. 

Another woman’s body had been found just before they arrived, and that would mean that the UnSub would be out hunting again soon. This was both good and bad. 

Good, because the UnSub clearly had to spend a lot of time stalking his victims - he knew a lot of details of their lives, and he had spent a lot of time developing an intimate fantasy of being a part of their family in his mind. So he wouldn’t be killing again the next day. No woman was in immediate danger. It gave the team more time to find viable suspects. 

Bad because they had no physical evidence, no good leads. And thus far, the profile was leading them nowhere. It felt incomplete. 

They could find no real connections between the victims - their gyms, their banks, their childcare, their grocery stores. Somehow, the victims didn’t seem to have any crossover in their lives. There was no real way to say how the UnSub had met them. And someone like this - he would have interacted with them at least once in order to become obsessed and stalk them to this degree. 

“Five women dead within the last three years.” Prentiss announced, starting to round up the facts that the team knew for certain. “All of them mothers, all with children under the age of five. All within the same ten square mile radius of Oregon, around Portland’s suburban neighborhoods.” 

She slumped back into her chair with a tired huff, and then continued. 

“The UnSub breaks into their homes through a backdoor or a back window, and somehow goes undetected in such an upscale neighborhood.” She sighed. “He kills the mothers, but he leaves their children alive. And then he calls 9-1-1 to report the death as a case of child neglect.” 

“So he was likely neglected by his own mother in his childhood.” Morgan easily theorized. 

“All of the victims upper-middle class, single mothers to one child with good jobs. All of them are of the same physical type.” Rossi added on. “They’re the same race, they have the hair color, they’re the same body type - all in their late twenties to early thirties. So the UnSub definitely has a type. He’s most definitely recreating a fantasy of some kind - perhaps taking out revenge on his own mother, but protecting himself. Which is why he never hurts the children.” 

“Yeah, but the children are different.” Morgan replied. “Sometimes boys, sometimes girls. Some of them are biracial - he doesn’t look for a specific type in the father. He doesn’t necessarily need to see himself in the children.” 

Then, as another thought occurred to him, Morgan continued on: 

“Plus, the children’s ages vary from barely a year old all the way up to five - if he was looking to seek revenge on his mother, looking to protect a younger version of himself, then he would have locked in on a critical event that he needs to protect himself from. The age of the children would be more consistent, at least, because he would be looking to protect himself as he hits the age that he was most traumatized by a specific event.” 

“That’s good.” Hotch nodded. “Then we know that it’s more about the mothers. He hates women at his core. Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women.” 

“But we still have no clue how these women could be connected or how they met the UnSub.” Morgan replied, jaw stiff with frustration. 

“Focus on what we do know.” Hotch reminded him. 

“All of the women were killed via stabbing. They all had over a dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas.” Rossi replied. “So, he is an aggressive sexual sadist.” 

“But if he hates women so much, why spend so much time in the house?” Morgan argued gently. “Every single one of these scenes has evidence that the UnSub spent hours - possibly up to a day in the house before he killed them. He cooked dinner, set the table, and made the women eat it before he killed them. Including a second place setting for a child. Some of the kids even said that ‘the scary man’ tucked them into bed and read them a story.” 

He held up one of the crime scene photos that depicted the scene of the family’s place settings - a haunting scene of plates not cleaned up from dinner, with a flower vase sitting in the middle of the table with a few white flowers wilting inside of it. 

“He’s right - why bother to show them the kindness of a last meal if he shows so much aggression toward them during the killing?” Prentiss added on. 

“It’s a routine.” Hotch said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. “It’s likely that he chooses single mothers because he gets to play the role of the father. With the real father figure absent from the picture, it makes it easier for him to impose himself into that role. At least for a temporary amount of time.” 

“It is strange.” Reid added on, clearly swimming in thought. “It’s almost like he’s courting them? Sending them gifts, showing what a good father he could be. Each of the women were sent white carnations sometime in the days before they were killed, and after the killing, he lays the flowers around their head in a halo-like fashion. It is said that carnations represent motherhood, and the white shade could depict an angelic innocence that he’s projecting onto these women.” 

“So he views these women as angelic figures, yet he kills them so brutally?” Prentiss scoffed. “It just doesn’t add up.” 

“Maybe he views the killing itself as a type of purification.” Reid theorized. “It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.” 

Prentiss visibly cringed at this. 

“Wait.” JJ said, looking at one of the crime scene photos with a sharp line pulling her brows together. 

Everyone looked to her, waiting for her to finish this thought. 

“I don’t think that the mothers were the only ones sent gifts.” 

She held up the photo, showing a picture of a colorful child’s play mat in the living room. Everyone stared at the photo in confusion, and JJ sighed and began to explain. 

“Look at this toy truck in the middle.” She said, pointing at something that almost blended into the background of the photo. The true focus was a large handprint - one that belonged to the killer, but he had worn gloves. “It’s wooden, it’s hand-carved, it’s old fashioned. All the other toys are plastic, brightly coloured. Remember what the UnSub said in the second 9-1-1 call?” 

“‘She pretends to have her son’s best interests at heart, but she was going to let him get cancer from sucking on those cheap plastic toys.’” Reid said, repeating it word-for-word, using his impeccable memory. 

“Exactly.” JJ confirmed with a nod. “Clearly the UnSub believes that he would be a good father because he can gift his child something hand-made instead of something mass produced.” 

“Alright, get the crime scene techs back over there to pick up the truck, maybe he wasn’t wearing gloves when he made it and there is some slim chance he left a print on it.” Hotch said, and JJ left to call the crime scene unit. 

This left the team sitting in silence for a few more moments until Reid spoke up again. 

“What about preschools?” He said, suddenly coming out of a wave of thought to announce this to the room. 

“What?” Prentiss prompted, wondering what on earth he was talking about. 

“Preschools.” Spencer confirmed, looking across the table at her. 

“We checked already, none of the victims’ children went to the same preschool.” Morgan reminded him. “Two of the kids didn’t even go to preschool.” 

“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” Spencer argued. 

Naturally, all eyes in the room fell on him, waiting for him to explain. 

“In the first 9-1-1 call, the UnSub said that the victim ‘shipped her son off to be cared for by strangers half the time’.” He explained, once again perfectly reciting this from memory. “What if the UnSub resents preschools and the schooling system for taking these children away from their mothers, so he’s choosing his victims off of a preschool waitlist? What if that’s where his obsession stems from because that’s where his rage stems from?” 

Reid jumped up, pointing to the map he had been using to make a geographical profile. 

“All of the victims live within the same school district.” He added on. “So they would be applying to the same group of preschools.” 

“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan announced. 

A few minutes later, Morgan connected Garcia’s call to the comm on the center of the conference table they were working from. 

“Hey, pumpkin pies.” She greeted them sweetly, as usual. “So it turns out, the preschool that Tommy Laird, and Emily Ashton, the third and the fourth victim had in common, does have a waitlist. But none of the other victims’ names were on it.” 

“Come on, babygirl. I know you’re holding out on me.” Morgan said, giving a small smirk. 

“Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing.” Garcia giggled. “The school’s waitlist, and their applications, are handled by a firm called Gordon & Stanheight. And it turns out, they handle the applications and waitlisting for five other preschools in the area.” 

“Which gives the UnSub a perfect way to pick his victims.” Morgan sighed. “The first interaction that gets him hooked might not even be in person-” 

“Unless he’s picking them out of the line-up on paper and then waiting to meet them in person?” Prentiss replied. “With this type of guy, the smallest smile, a nod in his direction - that could be consent in his mind to play father to a household that’s missing one.” 

“You said they handle forms for five different schools? That just widened the victim pool.” Rossi groaned. 

“And the suspect pool.” Garcia added on. “The firm has thirty male employees. And I did a bit more digging - the preschool applications have ten ‘optional’ questions on the bottom that are definitely not marked as such. Questions directed at the parent filling out the form, rather than vital information about the child. Things such as: ‘what’s your favorite food?’, ‘when is your birthday?’, ‘what’s your favorite color?’, ‘do you plan on having more children?’ - typical survey schlock,” 

“That would explain why the UnSub served Lisa Laird a birthday cake.” Reid sighed. “He knew it was her birthday two days before he killed her.”

“I have a feeling I���m not gonna like where this is going.” Emily sighed. 

“Oh, sugar. You probably won’t.” Penelope easily agreed. “The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies as survey data. And those forms are seen and handled by over a thousand male employees of Gordon & Stanheight’s larger ‘data processing’ sector.” 

“Well the UnSub has to be local to Portland. So narrow down the suspect list based on his last known address and go from there.” Hotch said. “Also, it would be someone who has a criminal record. Someone committing this level of violence wouldn’t be a first time offender.” 

“Gotcha.” Penelope said. “Penny G, out.” 

… 

The team ended up raiding Gordon & Stanheight’s Portland based office. 

After some pointless conversation, some threats of lawsuits, and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation, the team was able to get their hands on the preschool applications. Over two-dozen boxes worth, that they would have to sort through. 

So this left JJ, Reid, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss knee deep in paper, looking for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did. 

“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers. 

“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the house until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.” 

“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.” 

“So we’re hanging all our hopes on the idea that this psychopath needs time to ‘fall in love’ with his next victim before he kills her?” Prentiss groaned. 

“Sadly, yes.” Rossi confirmed. 

“It helps that most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.” 

The rest of the conversation easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it. 

It should have been just another page among the sea of paper in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut. It pushed all the air out of him in seconds, it made him dizzy, made him struggle to breathe. Like a reel flashing through his mind, it brought back a flood of memories he thought he had locked away forever. 

It was you. 

What the hell were you doing applying for preschools? 

Spencer rushed to tear this paper away from the others in order to read it more carefully. 

Surely enough, the application was filled out in your handwriting. Something that had barely changed over the years. And it was all right there, laid out in front of his eyes, clear as day - 

You had a son. 

A son named Sebastian, who was three years old. Spencer checked the date on the form, eagerly looking for a birth date for your son. His birthday had just recently passed, actually, so he was four years old now. 

And his birth date was… fuck. 

He had been born eight and a half months, almost nine months exactly after the two of you had broken up. Your son had been born eight and a half months after the day you had left and Spencer had never seen you again. 

One thousand, seven hundred and two days. 

Four years, eight months, and two days. 

It wasn’t difficult math. 

Your son was the perfect age to be Spencer’s child. Was this Spencer’s child? 

His hands began to shake at the very thought of it.  

Is that why you had disappeared from his life with such haste? Because you knew that you were pregnant and you didn’t want Spencer to be a part of your child’s life? 

Had you been keeping this from him intentionally? 

He hadn’t thought about you in four long years, he had tried so hard not to. He had spent so long forcing himself not to miss you, and now he was struck with the realization that he might have a child out there with the woman he considered to be his regrettable lost love. A child he didn’t know - a child who he had missed four whole years with. 

What the fuck was going on? 

There were no pictures included with the application, and suddenly, Spencer found himself dying to see the boy. He wanted to know if there was any physical resemblance to himself, or if he was jumping to conclusions. 

Maybe you had cheated on him. Maybe that was why you had left town and never contacted him again. Maybe the kid wasn’t his at all, maybe- 

“Reid.” JJ called out gently, getting his attention. 

Spencer suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating, staring down at the application with your name on it in his hand, wrinkling the paper as he squeezed it more frantically. 

“Did you find something?” 

… 

All in all, the team found four different women who fit the victim pattern in the files - you being one of them. 

So the team split up, ready to knock on each of the womens’ doors, preparing to warn them that if they received any gifts or saw any suspicious men lingering around them in the next few days, they should call. They had to hope that the UnSub wouldn’t move on from this victim pool if he saw the FBI around. But he was overly confident, he had contacted police before. 

It could definitely work. 

When Hotch found out that Spencer had known you, he said that Spencer should be the one to knock on your door. That you might find it comforting to hear that you and your child could possibly be in danger if it were coming from ‘an old friend’. Spencer stuttered over himself and didn’t have the words to explain that you weren’t just a good friend to him, but a romantic flame. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the team by telling everyone that the break-up had been messy, and sudden, and Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it. He didn’t want to rip open his old wounds in front of everyone. 

So he simply shut his mouth and got in the car with JJ, and they made their way toward your house. 

…

“So…” JJ’s voice broke through the undulating silence of the car ride - filled by nothing but the sound of the car’s motor running and gears grinding inside Spencer’s mind as he tried to figure all of this out. “I do have to ask the obvious question,” 

“What is that?” Spencer probed, slightly glad to be relieved of his own thoughts. 

He wasn’t so glad when JJ pried those thoughts out of his mind and spilled them to the open air. 

“Is the kid yours?” She wondered aloud. “I mean - when did you and Y/N break up?” 

JJ had known you as Spencer’s girlfriend. 

Come to think of it, she was probably the only person on the current field team who had some kind of a relationship with you back when you and Spencer dated. 

Initially, it had been by accident. JJ had driven him home one night after a particularly long and sleepless case, and you had been coming to his apartment to drop off some books he had asked for (shortly after he had given you a key). When JJ saw you, her natural curiosity got the better of her - even more so when you stuck out your hand and introduced yourself as ‘Spencer’s girlfriend’ without hesitation. 

The two of you got to talking, and JJ invited you to ‘girls night’. You met Elle and Penelope shortly after. You had become pretty good friends with the three of them before the break-up. 

But Spencer had always felt secretive…. well, protective of you. He didn’t want Morgan teasing him about you, or him wanting to have ‘guy talk’ about things that occurred in the bedroom. Not when it might mean talking about intimate moments with you. Spencer had only introduced you to Gideon over coffee about three weeks before the break-up, and that felt like a lifetime ago. 

Back then, having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth. It felt like being grabbed by his ankles and shaken for all he was worth. He really wasn’t sure that he was ready to see you again. 

It had been four years. 

JJ was someone he could lean on right now. 

“Four years ago.” He told her, completely honest. 

“And how old is the kid?” JJ asked. 

“Four - four years old.” Spencer stuttered out, realizing that now as he was speaking about this very real possibility, he might be breathing more life into it. 

“Oh my god.” JJ sighed. “Well… could it-? I mean…? Did the two of you?” 

It took Spencer a moment to clue into what JJ was talking about. He gave her a sideways glance and she took her eyes off the road for a moment, raising her brows and giving him a pointed look. 

“Please tell me you know what does and what doesn’t make a baby,” JJ groaned. 

“Oh!” Spencer huffed, a small wave of embarrassment flooding him. “Yes! God, yes. I know.” 

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Spencer felt the need to clarify his answer. 

“We - I mean. We…” He trailed off for a moment, clearing his throat. “We didn’t always use… protection. We were together for three years, at the time, it was on the table.” 

“Kids were on the table for you back then?” JJ asked, clearly shocked by this. “I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.” 

“Well… it’s something I’ve always wanted.” He mumbled quietly in reply. 

It was true. At the time, Spencer easily imagined himself getting married to you, having multiple kids with you. These days, seeing JJ with Henry and Will brought him the occasional underlying pang of jealousy - but since breaking up with you, there hadn’t been anyone else in Spencer’s life that he could have imagined having kids with. He thought that he was going to be alone and childless for the rest of his life. That the dream was long dead for him. 

“Hey - then, maybe this is a blessing in disguise?” JJ posed. “If we hadn’t been looking through those forms because of this UnSub, you never would have found Y/N again. You wouldn’t even know this baby exists.” 

There was another thing that JJ was dying to ask - something she held back because she felt like it was a touch too personal. (Even if ‘too personal’ was basically how the BAU team lived - knee deep in each other’s business, all the time). 

She wanted to know why you had a baby, a baby that Spencer had very likely fathered, and you hadn’t contacted him about it. Spencer seemed entirely clueless about the child’s existence before now, and JJ knew that because of what his own father had been like, he wouldn’t just blow off a kid that was his if he knew that one was out there in the world. 

So why hadn’t you told Spencer about the baby? 

“What if the kid isn’t yours?” JJ wondered aloud. 

Maybe that would unburden him. She knew that either way, Spencer would fight to protect you from the UnSub. But if the kid wasn’t his - he would walk away again, and he wouldn’t have to be hung up on the heartbreak of dealing with his ex just to parent a child together. 

“Honestly… I think I’ll be more heartbroken if I find out that he’s not even mine.” Spencer told her, his voice quiet and already lulling with that disappointment. 

That was not something JJ had considered. She frowned as she saw the sadness paint across Spencer’s face. 

“One thing at a time, alright?” 

…

When they pulled into your driveway, Spencer’s mind immediately began churning. 

It was a nice house. It was a beautiful, quiet neighborhood. The front yard was clean and trimmed and there was a silver SUV in the driveway with a ‘baby on board’ sticker in the rear window. There was a rocking chair on the porch, but he didn’t see many children’s toys out front on the lawn. He guessed that was a good thing. Letting children play in the front where they could run into the street and potentially get hit by a car was too dangerous. He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother. 

Spencer felt like he was opening up a book halfway, desperately wanting to be filled in on the previous chapters while having missed so much. Still wanting to read ahead and see more. 

He had already missed so much of your son’s life. He had missed you. That was something forming the biggest knot in his gut. He had truly missed you. The times he had allowed himself to think of you over these past few years - he had missed you so dearly. 

And now the two of you likely had a child together. 

Craning his neck to get a better look, desperately trying to take in more information, Spencer’s eyes were wide and hungry as JJ put the car in park by the curb in front of your house. As Spencer reached for the passenger side door handle, JJ’s phone rang. 

“I have to take this.” She sighed. “You go ahead.” 

She gave Spencer a distinct look that said ‘I know you need a minute alone with Y/N’, and he nodded, stepping out of the vehicle while she greeted whoever was on the other line. He smoothed down his tie - for once in his whole life, he was actually worried about how he looked. Only because he knew that he was going to see you. Perhaps he had only ever felt like this before going on his first date with you. 

He had such a strange lashing of emotions going through him as he approached the door. Fear, anxiety, anticipation. Longing. 

He truly had tried so hard to lock away his feelings for you when you had left. He had tried to move on. He had considered, briefly, in passing, dating other women. There had been times when someone else caught his eye, and he considered asking her out on a date. Morgan had offered to ‘set him up’. Penelope had offered too, telling him that he deserved to ‘get back out there’. 

Whenever she asked about you, his heart freshly cracked open. 

At one point, she had advised him to write a long, Shakespearian letter, pouring out his heart to you in an effort to get you back - one which she would mail. (Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat.) But he didn’t want to experience the heartbreak all over again if you ignored him. He didn’t want to sit, waiting by the mailbox every single day like a lost dog, waiting for you to write him back in return. 

You had disappeared from his life for a reason. Just like everyone else had. For a long time, Spencer convinced himself that he was simply meant to end up alone. 

Perhaps if he had known about your son - a child that could very well be his - then he might have felt differently about getting Penelope to contact you. 

But now he was standing at your front door, his fist shaking as he raised his hand to knock. 

He let out a sharp breath and steadied himself, giving three swift, firm knocks against the door and then trying to wait patiently. His heart thumped inside of his throat, and it felt like forever. 

“Sorry!” Your voice called out from behind the door, muffled. “Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-” 

You cut off your own words as you opened the door - the moment you caught Spencer’s eye and recognized it was him, pure shock fell across your features, and you froze on the spot. 

You were just as stunning as ever. You had barely aged at all - your hair was different than the last time he had seen you, of course. And you were dressed casually - wearing a simple hooded sweatshirt with a drawstring and a pair of jeans with some fuzzy slipper boots on. But pale blue looked so good on you.

So much like the pale blue dress you had worn on your first date with him. 

You were breath-taking. 

“Y/N.” He greeted you, his throat dry already. 

You didn’t say anything, simply continuing to stare him down with wide-eyed shock. 

Seeing you again, Spencer couldn’t help but to think back to that first date. 

The first night that he knew he was in love with you. 

… 

He had taken you to see the Virginia Symphony Orchestra. 

It was Spencer’s idea of a good time - and it ended up being one of the most beautiful, most romantic, most unique first dates that you had ever been on. 

It was difficult not to fall for him with the beautiful music in the air and his glossy eyes, so sickeningly thick with affection, staring you down all night. 

Afterwards, the two of you stopped to get ice cream at a small shop that was a short walk down from the orchestra. And now you were both enjoying your ice cream as you walked along in the cool night air - enjoying the peace and quiet and the gentle breeze in the darkness. 

It was a perfect night. 

Spencer could think of no better way to spend it than with you. The yellow bulbs of the street lights practically cast a glow onto your skin, the mulberry lipstick now worn off your lips as you brought the pink spoon to your mouth and licked up your sweet treat. 

His stomach was churning with nerves. Joyous nerves. 

And as per usual, when he was nervous - he rambled. 

“You know, Bach actually married his cousin.” He said, spouting off the first thing that came to mind. 

You told him that Bach was one of your favorite composers - it’s why he had thought to bring you to the orchestra on a date in the first place. 

“I did not know that.” You giggled. “So what? Was it like a ‘third cousin twice removed’ type situation?” 

Spencer found himself grinning at the fact that you actually engaged him in the conversation, rather than staring at him with an odd look for bringing up such a strange topic. 

“Not quite.” He replied. “They had the same surname before marriage.” 

“Oh, ew.” You chuckled again, giving a shudder at the thought of this. 

Spencer knew it was an odd topic to discuss on a date, and if he rambled on too much, it might freak you out - but he couldn’t stop himself. His mouth ran away with him, and he continued. 

“He married Maria Barbara Bach, and they had seven children together.” He told you. “His sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl Philipp Emanuel became composers and musicians much like their father, which was actually carrying on a legacy started by Bach’s father himself - who was a seventh generation musician. He was the one who taught Bach the organ from a very young age.” 

“Why don’t people play the organ anymore?” You wondered aloud. “Except in churches, I guess. The organ rocks.” 

Spencer’s brain began rocketing off at the fact that you had asked him a question. A question he could answer. 

“The organ has actually long been associated with divinity.” He replied. “The instrument rose in popularity alongside Catholicism throughout the eighteenth century, and in a sense, that was part of what made Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time. The religious references in his work, and his mastery of the organ - all of it made him incredibly popular at the time because it caused him to be favored by the church and by royal figures associated with the church.” 

Spencer gleamed a large smile, heavily enjoying that he could share these facts with you. He thought for certain that any moment, you would change the subject or imply that he should stop talking. But instead, you engaged the conversation more. 

“Religious references?” You questioned, wondering what he meant by this. 

“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this. “Even in his secular music, Bach would often incorporate the acronym ‘INJ’, a Latin abbreviation that means ‘In Nomine Jesu’, or ‘in the name of Jesus’. It was something he put on all of his manuscripts.” 

You grinned back. You found it fascinating that being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things. It easily made you want to be around him more. 

“Interesting.” You replied. 

“And his talent on the organ was seen as something that made him ‘divine’ at the time. Divine enough to be worthy of performing for royalty.” Spencer added on. “In 1708, Bach got a position as the court organist in Weimer for Duke Wilhelm. And later when he requested early release from this position, desiring to go work for Prince Leopold of Koethen, the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.” 

Spencer laughed at this mental image - the composer being put in jail. 

“Ooh, harsh.” You sighed. “But I guess Dukes have too much power.” 

Spencer let out another bright laugh at this. 

“And see, the interesting thing is, Bach later became the conductor of the court orchestra, in which Prince Leopold played.” 

“So he got his wish,” You replied with a smile. 

“And see-” 

Spencer set off on another rant again, and you couldn’t help yourself. You put your spoon into the cup of ice cream and then you used your now free hand to reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you before he could get anymore words out, and he let out a shocked, choked-off sound when you pressed your mouth into his. 

He sighed gently against your lips, and unconsciously dropped his own melting chocolate cone on the ground by his feet as his limp hands drifted toward your waist. He was dizzy, and now every single fact he had ever known about any composer had vanished from his head. In that moment, standing under a random street lamp on a random sidewalk somewhere - all he knew was the soft, pillowy feeling of your lips and the cool night breeze against his skin. 

It was perfect. You were perfect. 

You found his intelligence and the enthusiasm with which he spoke to be so utterly irresistible. You had been on so many dates with men before where they had acted like talking about their interests was a chore. Where they had made it seem like the whole thing was simply a routine, waiting for the end of the night so they could get into your pants. And for them, that’s what it probably was. 

But Spencer was nothing like that. 

He spoke about everything with such intense passion - and you couldn’t resist the urge to try and suck that very passion off his lips. 

When you were forced to pull back slightly, your lungs crying out for oxygen, Spencer let out a gentle moan and began puffing out sweet little pants across your chin as he tried to catch his breath. You kept a hold of his tie, wanting to keep him close, and he stayed there, gently pressing his forehead against yours. 

“That was… wow.” He sighed. 

“I didn’t think I would ever find you at a loss for words, Doctor Reid.” You replied with a giggle. 

“Well, I - you - wow.” 

It was all he could muster, causing you both to break down into laughter. 

Back then - everything had been perfect. 

He had no clue where it all went so wrong.

...

Continue reading: Chapter Two - Liar

#sundrop writes #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dad!spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic