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violetrainbow412-blog · 10 months

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Decoy [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 6.9k

summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.

warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension

Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case

You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.

You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.

All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.

But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.

"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.

“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”

"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"

“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.

“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.

Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.

“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”

"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”

“We can use our own team”

"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"

"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"

"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”

“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.

"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.

Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids.

You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.

“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it.

"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.

"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.

He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.

At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.

The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.

Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.

“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"

"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying”

"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.

You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.

We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.

As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.

Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.

Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.

When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.

"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"

"And meanwhile what do we do?"

"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"

“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.

“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"

“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"

“When the suspect approaches, yes”

"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.

My God, could that man make you more nervous?

When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.

"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"

"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"

“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”

"This is not a play"

"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”

"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.

“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”

“I actually know some good ones”

"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."

"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"

"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?

Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.

“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.

You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.

“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.

“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."

"Why you said so?"

“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.

"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."

“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.

"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"

"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."

You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.

“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."

"I am nervous"

"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"

"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"

"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"

"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"

"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"

"Smooch me?"

"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.

"That's not a picnic, Y/N"

You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.

You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.

"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.

"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.

"Is that our unsub?"

"It is"

You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.

"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.

“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"

"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.

You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?

"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.

You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.

“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.

You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements.

It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.

There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.

The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.

“He started the trailer. He's going to go"

Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.

Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.

"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.

"Take... what?"

"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"

But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you.

He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit.

His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.

You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.

Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.

As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.

"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.

That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin.

And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.

Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.

From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.

"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.

"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.

You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.

"How are you?"

"Very good, excellent" you stammered.

You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.

After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.

"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.

“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Don't you even dare make fun of this"

“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."

"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.

Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.

"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?"

"Fine, and you?"

"Fine too"

You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.

"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"

"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?

Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.

"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"

“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”

"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."

“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.

While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.

"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.

“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”

“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."

"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"

“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"

"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"

Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.

“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”

“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."

You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.

"Then I'd love to, Reid."

“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"

“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.

It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.

“Today?”

"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.

“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”

It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.

Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.

"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"

"It did"

"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.

Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.

"Do you want to go after work, then?"

“Sounds good to me”

Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.

So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía #david rossi #emily prentiss #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut

11K notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 6 days

Text

Newsflash

Charles Leclerc x reporter!Reader

Summary: after two years as a paddock correspondent, you’re convinced that Charles Leclerc hates your guts for no apparent reason … but maybe everything is not what it seems

“Wake up, Y/N. It’s race day!”

Your colleague, Natalie, bursts into your hotel room without knocking, as usual. You groan and pull the covers over your head, not ready to face the chaos that is sure to ensue in the paddock.

“Come on, sleepyhead! We have to be at the track by seven this morning for pre-race meetings,” Natalie says, yanking the duvet off you.

“Alright, alright, I’m up!” You grumble, slowly swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “What time is it anyway?”

“5:30. Which reminds me, I need coffee,” Natalie says, already headed for the door. “Meet me in the lobby in 20!”

You spend the next 19 minutes hastily getting ready — putting on minimal makeup, throwing on your favorite jumpsuit, and frantically gathering up notes and gear for the day. You take one last glance in the mirror, trying to smooth down your bedhead, before resigning to just throw a cap on over the mess.

Hustling down to the lobby, there’s a rush of personnel all around — mechanics, engineers, PR reps, and media darting about with coffees and laptops and headsets already in place. You spot Natalie nursing a large black coffee and beeline over.

“Ready to do this?” She asks with a grin.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply with a shrug. The truth is, the nerves are already bubbling up in your stomach. You love your job as an F1 reporter for Sky Sports, but the pressure and scrutiny is immense.

The two of you pile into a car with the rest of the broadcast crew and head to the track. On the ride, you glance over your meticulous notes on the teams and drivers one more time, paying special attention to Ferrari.

Ever since you started covering F1 two years ago, one driver has basically refused to give you the time of day — Charles Leclerc.

For some reason, whenever you are around, he bolts in the opposite direction. When you have attempted interviews, he literally turns and speedwalks away without a word. Other drivers will chat with you, joke around, and give thoughtful answers to questions.

But Charles? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

You can’t figure out why he hates you so much. You’ve scoured your past comments and coverage looking for anything that could have offended him, but come up empty.

Is it something personal against you? Were you mean to him in a past life or something? It hurts, to be honest. You try to stay professional, but his obvious disdain for you still stings.

Sighing, you put your notes away as the car pulls into the paddock. It’s going to be a long day.

After hair, makeup, mic checks, and a final meeting, it’s nearly time for the broadcast to go live as cars start lining up on the grid. Nerves buzzing, you watch Charles warm up with his performance coach across the pit lane, headphones in and clearly in the zone. As always, he walks right past you without a flicker of acknowledgment.

Your heart twinges, but you swiftly push the hurt aside. It’s showtime.

The next few hours are a blur of rushed interviews, sound bites, stats flashing across screens, and organized chaos. After the race finally ends, there are more interviews, podium ceremonies, and press conferences to wade through before you can take a breath.

“Man, that was brutal!” Natalie huffs as the two of you finally plop down in chairs in the media room later that afternoon. She cracks open a Red Bull and takes a long drink. “You hanging in there?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you reply half-heartedly. The truth is, you’re drained — physically and mentally. And of course, the interaction with Charles, or lack thereof, is weighing heavy.

“Why do you let that pompous twerp get under your skin so much?” Natalie says with a frown, seeming to read your mind. “He’s a rude, stuck up jerk who isn’t worth the energy. Forget about him.”

You shake your head with a sigh. “You’re right, you’re right. I just … I don’t know, I never did anything to the guy, and it still stings.”

Just then, the door to the media room swings open, and Charles himself strides in. You inadvertently tense up as he approaches the couch, looking calm and confident in his usual Ferrari polo, and folds himself down between Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, who rounded out the rest of the podium.

Here we go again, you think with an internal eye roll. Just gotta get this over with.

“Hello,” Charles says with an easy grin as he settles into his seat, “What have you got for us today?” Various reporters immediately start firing off questions, undoubtedly looking to get a headline from the race winner.

You gather your courage, take a breath, and call out “Charles, Y/N with Sky Sports here. Can you walk me through your thought process behind that daring pass on Lando in Turn 12?”

To your shock, the second Charles hears your voice, his whole demeanor shifts. He seems to freeze, shoulders hunching slightly, grin dropping from his face as his cheeks instantly flush deep red. He looks panicked almost, eyes darting around the room, before landing briefly on you.

“Uhh … b-bathroom. Need to go. Bye.”

And with that, he leaps up from the couch and practically sprints out of the room.

A stunned silence falls over the space as everyone stares, stunned, at the empty space he left. You feel your stomach drop through the floor, tears of embarrassment and humiliation prickling at your eyes.

What did you do wrong? Now he’s made a total spectacle, running away from you in front of your peers. Mortified, you shakily stand up, chair clanging backwards, and rush from the room as well. Needing air, you bolt outside until you find a secluded spot out back of the paddock, leaning against a wall as the tears flow freely.

“Hey, hey … what’s going on? Are you okay?”

The soft, concerned male voice startles you, and you gasp looking up. There stands Charles, looking alarmed and guilty.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out like that. Please don’t cry!” He moves closer, though still keeps his distance.

You blink rapidly, beyond confused. “What … what are you doing out here? I’m clearly the last person you want to be around.”

He sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is really hard for me to admit but … I like you. As in, I have the biggest crush on you. That’s why I get so flustered and basically black out anytime you talk to me. It’s pathetic, I know.”

Your jaw actually drops open in disbelief. “You … what? You like me? Is this a joke?”

“No! No, I swear, it’s the truth,” he says, face turning red again. “I know I come across like a total jerk, I just freeze up around you because honestly? You’re just so stunning and brilliant, and I get unbelievably shy and nervous. The words won’t come out. It’s like an out of body experience! I chicken out and run away like an idiot every time.”

You stare at him, trying to process this. All this time, all the hurt and embarrassment … it was just because he developed a crush?

“I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you. I know it must seem like I despise you. The truth is, you make me feel like a stuttering teenager with my first crush again,” Charles continues, looking at you beseechingly. “I understand if you think I’m a total tool, and I have a lot of work to do to make this up to you. But I swear, I really do like you, Y/N.”

At this, his face splits into a sheepish grin, eyes twinkling with mirth. You feel a laugh bubble up in your chest as relief washes over you.

He doesn’t hate you. In fact, it’s quite the opposite! You appraise him, really looking at him for the first time. From his twinkling green eyes to his adorable dimples to the lock of chestnut hair falling across his forehead, he’s unbelievably charming.

You shake your head, smile growing. “So this whole time, you’ve just been acting like an awkward schoolboy instead of giving me any indication of your true feelings?”

Charles laughs self-consciously. “Embarrassing, I know. Look, I promise I’ll do better-”

“Yeah, you’ve got a lot to make up for,” you say, crossing your arms and giving Charles a playful but pointed look. “All the grief and heartache you’ve put me through the last two years? This calls for serious groveling, mister.”

Charles immediately drops to one knee dramatically. “Y/N Y/L/N, light of my life, apple of my eye. I am but a humble driver, unworthy of your affection. But if you would do me the extraordinary honor of allowing me to court you properly, I vow to spend every day showing you how enchanted I am by your wit, your beauty, and your strength.”

You can’t help but giggle at his over-the-top chivalrous display. “Oh get up, you goofball!” You grab his hand and pull him back to his feet. “I’m just teasing. Well, partially teasing. I do expect you to apologize to me properly. Take me to dinner or something.”

Charles visibly brightens. “Dinner? Really? Yes, absolutely! In fact, let me take you right now. We’ll go to that little trattoria down the road. You deserve to be wined and dined for putting up with me.”

You consider this for a moment, taking in his eager, handsome face. The truth is, despite his past behavior, you find yourself captivated by Charles now that you understand what was really going on. His confidence, talent, and intensity are wildly attractive. And the way he’s looking at you now, with softness and admiration in his eyes .... it sends tingles down your spine.

“Alright, lead the way, hot shot,” you say with a wink.

Charles’ grin stretches even wider, if possible. “After you,” he gestures forward with a flourish, then falls into step beside you as you head towards the exit.

“I really am sorry for being such an idiot around you,” Charles says quietly after a moment of walking in comfortable silence. “The way I’ve acted was totally unacceptable. You deserve so much better.”

You glance over at his earnest expression and feel a little pang in your chest. “It’s okay, really. I get it now. Just think how close we could have been this whole time though if you’d just … I don’t know, talked to me like a normal human being!”

Charles chuckles ruefully. “Oof, so true. Honestly, I’m impressed you didn’t write me off ages ago as a complete lost cause. Clearly you’re far more patient and forgiving than I deserve.”

“Yes, I really am,” you agree teasingly, giving his arm a playful shove. You both laugh as you reach the paddock exit and emerge out onto the bustling street, taking in the energy of the crowd.

You jokingly elbow Charles’ side. “Still though, as dashingly handsome as you may be, don’t think you’re completely off the hook! I expect to be wooed and romanced properly going forward. No more running off scared like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“It’s a deal,” Charles says easily, looking thrilled. “Romance and wooing, coming right up.”

Reaching the charming little restaurant, Charles opens the door for you with a sweeping bow. You grin and step inside. Somehow, you have the feeling this is going to be the start of a wonderful evening.

No more misunderstandings. Just the two of you, getting to know each other properly over a delicious meal with the slight chill of the evening settling in around you.

And you can’t wait.

***

The next few race weekends are a whirlwind as Charles seems to do a complete 180 in his behavior towards you.

Gone is the shy, nervous wreck who could barely look you in the eye. Instead, he goes full-steam in the opposite direction, seeking you out constantly and showering you with attention.

It starts the following week after Friday practice. You’re standing in the paddock scribbling notes when you sense someone approaching. Looking up, you see Charles striding over, helmet in hand, usual calm confidence exuding from him.

“Ah, Y/N, just the reporter I was looking for,” he says with a warm grin, sidling up beside you. “Walk with me?”

Flustered by his forwardness but flattered, you quickly nod. “Uh, sure!”

Charles immediately links his arm casually through yours and starts leading you away down the paddock, journalists and crew members glancing over with raised eyebrows. You catch Natalie’s eye and she mouths “WTF?” at you with a stunned look. You just give a tiny shrug, feeling your face heat up.

“So tell me, what did you think of my lap times today?” Charles asks once you’re a few paces away from the crowd.

You blink, surprised he’s looking for actual feedback. You decide to give an honest assessment. “Well, I think you were sliding the rear end quite a bit too much through Sector 2 and losing time. The car didn’t look fully settled-”

“Brilliant analysis as always, Y/N. I knew I could count on you to give it to me straight,” Charles interrupts with a respectful nod. You feel yourself preen slightly at his praise. “Some changes to differential settings should sort that out, I think.”

He then launches into a surprisingly technical explanation of his plans to adjust the setup. You find yourself nodding along, captivated, as he outlines the various weight transfer issues and how he aims to mitigate them.

He’s speaking to you like a true engineer, not just a reporter. You realize with a jolt that he’s never gone into this level of detail with you before in any interviews.

“Sorry, I’m rambling a bit here, aren’t I?” Charles says sheepishly when he pauses. “I don’t want to bore you with too much technical detail. But you just have such a good eye and ask such insightful questions, I find myself wanting to really dive into this side of racing with you.”

He gives your arm a soft squeeze. “Anyway, let me know if you have any other observations or advice. I trust your analysis completely.”

Before you can properly respond, the two of you round a corner only to nearly walk directly into Sergio Perez, who’s heading the opposite direction. He does a comical double take at seeing the two of you arm-in-arm together.

“Ah, hello Checo!” Charles says breezily, not releasing you or missing a beat. Sergio looks hilariously confused.

“Uh … hello?” is all he manages before Charles is steering you onwards.

“See you around, mate,” he tosses over his shoulder with a wink.

You glance back to see Sergio frozen in place, staring after you both looking utterly bewildered.

The weekend continues in this vein, with Charles constantly pulling you aside to chat at length about setups, strategies, even asking your opinion on development directions for next year’s car.

He treats you with the utmost seriousness and respect, like you’re one of his most trusted advisors. It’s shocking and flattering after the cold-shoulder treatment for so long.

Whenever the broadcast crew has a break, Charles inevitably finds you and whisks you off to look at telemetry data together (which sends a poor PR officer chasing after the two of you with an NDA after the first time Charles decides to pull you into the garage) or watch video, going into painstaking detail to get your thoughts.

By Sunday, it’s become a bit of a running joke among the team, with people exchanging amused glances whenever Charles appears to disappear with you once again.

“There goes Loverboy Sharl, dragging poor Y/N off yet again to pore over spreadsheets and onboard footage,” Natalie jokes with an eye roll during a break, making the crew laugh. “How does that man ever find time to, you know, actually race?”

You shoot her a heatless glare, though you have to admit — as sweet as it is having Charles’ undivided attention, as a reporter the over-accessibility is becoming a touch much.

When the race concludes later that afternoon, Charles immediately finds you amid the chaos of the media scrum.

“Y/N!” He beams down at you, still sweaty and in his racing suit with the top half unzipped. “Come take a look at the race data with me? I want to walk through my lap times and tire deg, see if we can spot any areas to improve ...”

“Actually, I’m sort of totally swamped right now,” you gesture at the sea of people around you. “But maybe later?”

His face falls slightly. “Oh. Well I suppose I did already monopolize a lot of your time this weekend. No rest for the media?”

He gives you a lopsided smile but there’s a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You feel a little stab of guilt.

“Tell you what though,” he continues, brightening again. “Come find me later before we fly out. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you.”

“A surprise?” You ask with a raised brow. “What does that mean?”

“Ah ah ah, no hints!” Charles laughs, wagging a finger. “Just trust me. Don’t leave without seeing me first, okay?”

With that, he leans in and unexpectedly gives you a swift peck on the cheek. You freeze, eyes going wide, feeling your face flame. Pulling back, Charles winks cheekily at you before turning and sauntering off.

Dazed, you lift a hand to touch the spot he kissed, feeling the heat radiating from your cheek. Did he really just … right out in the open like that … with the cameras recording live?

Glancing around, you see Natalie and a few other crew members staring with mouths agape. Toto Wolff is even giving you an amused look as he walks past, one eyebrow arched knowingly. Utterly mortified, you duck your head down and hurry off to find a quiet corner to collect yourself.

The next race sees the flirting and PDA ramp up even higher. Charles can’t seem to resist finding any excuse to drape an arm around your waist, stroke your arm, or playfully tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Every interaction has an undercurrent of flirtation and innuendo. And the cheek kisses become almost routine, pressed on you in front of other drivers, team bosses, cameramen, you name it.

“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” You finally say in flustered exasperation after he ambushes you with a very public, lingering kiss on the cheek in the paddock one day. You struggle to sound annoyed, but a pleased grin tugs at the corners of your mouth as you say it.

“Sorry, ma chérie, I just can’t seem to resist around you,” Charles replies, absolutely zero shame in his voice or demeanor. “You’re lucky I have more self-control than to start making out right here in front of everyone!”

You gasp and slap his arm, scandalized, as he just throws his head back and laughs heartily.

Meanwhile, the double-takes and stunned looks from everyone around just keep coming. Even the normally straight-faced Fred Vasseur can’t seem to hold back smug grins whenever he sees the two of you getting cozy.

“Go on and get a room already, you two!” He finally chuckles one day as Charles passes by in the paddock with his usual arm draped around your waist.

“Don’t tempt me!” Charles quips back without missing a beat, giving you a roguish wink.

Soon, literally everyone in the paddock and broadcast team is aware of and commenting on the developing romance between you and Charles.

He makes no attempt to hide it whatsoever.

“Honestly, I think they’re the most nauseatingly adorable couple I’ve ever seen,” Jenson Button jokes to the rest of the broadcast team one evening as they all watch Charles throw his arm around you yet again and plant a smacking kiss on your temple.

“The honeymoon phase never ends with those two,” Natalie agrees in a wry tone, rolling her eyes. “It’s like they’re a pair of horny teenagers making out behind the bleachers.”

You just shake your head with a bashful smile and accept the good-natured ribbing. The truth is, despite Charles’ very public displays of affection causing some embarrassment and teasing from your colleagues, you find it hard to truly mind.

There’s an earnestness and joy in his demeanor whenever he’s with you that makes your heart swell. You’ve never seen him so openly happy and carefree as these past few weeks. Gone is the tightly wound, intense competitor. In his place is a warm, playful soul who can’t help but let his delight in your company shine through.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find his romantic attentions flattering and thrilling. The way his gaze smolders when his eyes meet yours, the tingle of electricity you feel whenever his hand brushes yours, the butterflies that erupt in your stomach when his lips graze your cheek — it all makes you deliriously giddy, like a lovesick teenager yourself.

So you endure the good-natured eye rolls from Natalie and jokes from the broadcast crew with an easy smile. Because the truth is, you’ve realized how deeply you’ve fallen for Charles in return.

“You’ve got me utterly love drunk, you charming fool,” you murmur against his chest one evening.

The two of you are tucked away in a quiet corner, Charles’ back against the wall with his arms wrapped around you as you stand embraced, soaking in a few stolen moments of intimacy together.

“The feeling is mutual,” Charles replies easily, resting his chin on your head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from this madness.” He pauses, absentmindedly stroking your back. “Honestly, I half expected you to get sick of me hanging around all the time by now.”

You pull back to meet his warm green eyes. “Are you kidding? I love having you around. I still have to pinch myself that you actually want to be with me after the way you treated me for so long!”

A flicker of regret passes across Charles’ features. “I truly am sorry for being such an ass before, Y/N. I hope with time you can forgive me.”

“Already forgiven,” you assure him softly. “We’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Relief blossoms on his face and he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Thank you, ma belle. For being the most patient and kind woman on earth.”

You grin, eyes fluttering closed as his breath tickles your skin. “Mmm, I wouldn’t go that far. But I guess I do possess some super-human tolerance for broody and aloof superstar drivers with commitment issues.”

Charles chuckles at that and you can feel the rumble of it against your body. “Lucky for me then, or I would still be utterly lost.”

His mouth finds yours then, soft and intoxicating. You melt into the kiss, savoring his warmth, his scent, the gentle stroke of his fingertips along your jaw. All semblance of poise escapes you when you’re pressed against Charles like this. He never fails to make your head spin and body thrum with want.

A polite cough from nearby causes you to break apart abruptly. You blink, dazed, to see Natalie standing with an eyebrow arched sky high.

“Hey lovebirds,” she says in a wry tone. “Sorry to disturb the sunset groping, but they’re calling for final broadcast checks in 10.”

Face flaming, you duck your head and extract yourself from Charles’ embrace. He just shoots Natalie a cheeky grin, entirely unabashed.

“Better get going then,” Charles says cheerfully, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Wouldn’t want you to be late because of me … again.” He winks.

Natalie rolls her eyes hard. “Oh I’m sure that would be a first. See you in 10, Y/N.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the pits. You glance up at Charles shyly.

“I should … uh ...” You gesture vaguely.

“Yes, yes of course,” Charles says, squeezing your hands affectionately. “Work calls. Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting around the next corner to steal more kisses as soon as you’re free.”

You laugh and give him a playful shove. “Go on then, you impossible man! I’ll see you in a bit.”

Heart fluttering, you watch him saunter off before heading for the pits yourself, still feeling delightfully dazed.

This is really your life now. Surrounded by racing, the thrill of competition, the roar of engines … and consumed by budding love every time Charles Leclerc is near.

As far as dream jobs go, you think with a lovestruck smile, you’ve really hit the jackpot.

1K notes · View notes

rachalixie · 1 month

Text

can’t get you off my mind

all good love stories start with a drunk stranger, don’t they?

warnings: mentions of alcohol, fem!reader

genre: fluff, comfort

word count: 4k

it starts at a bar.

or really, it starts with a man at a bar. one that you’ve seen before in passing, a familiar face in a sea of more familiar faces. someone who you’ll later learn is one third of your best friend changbin’s production team, someone who you should have met years ago probably, someone who you would find is the perfect puzzle piece that fits into your jagged edges.

but right now, he is just a man at a bar with a beer in hand and a ridiculously dopey smile on his face.

“marry me, please,” he says, absolutely serious but it’s a bit diluted from the way his words were slurred around the edges. “or i’ll have to kidnap you.”

“excuse me?” you raise a brow at him, his image swimming a bit as you turn your head to fully take him in. you’re not drunk, but youre a couple glasses of wine deep and you’re not known for being fully articulate whilst sober anyways.

“i swear i’m going to marry you,” he says, eyes wide as he looks at you. “you might be the most perfect person i’ve ever seen.”

you’re not overly fond of men you haven’t met hitting on you, but this one seems a bit harmless. if you ignored the part where he said he would kidnap you. at least he wasn’t grabbing onto you or trying to touch you - that would have sent your fist flying towards his face and probably a swift exit from the bar. it was a little weird that you didn’t find him weird, but in retrospect you must have known, even then.

“okay, listen,” you put your hands on your hips, giving him an unimpressed look. “if you find me when you’re sober, ask me again and maybe i’ll reconsider.”

“okay,” he nods, hair moving along with his movement like a puppy’s ears. “i can do that. i’ll find you, i promise. i’m gonna marry you, did you know?”

“so i’ve heard,” you roll your eyes, already feeling a bit fond about him. you didn’t think you’d meet him again, but you were sure that you’d look at this night with a fond smile later.

he sends you the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen on a person and scampers off, and you stand rooted to that one sticky spot in the bar for longer than you want to admit.

–

he’s in the back of your mind when you wake up the next morning, in a better mood than most - you never liked waking up early, it always took you a good hour and some coffee to be able to stand without grimacing. this morning though, you float around your apartment as you get dressed with a small smile on your face.

a cute stranger who kept his boundaries and called you perfect? that wasn’t something that happened often, at least not to you.

the floatiness followed you all the way through your morning routine until you found your feet stopping outside the coffee shop that you and changbin all but owned. you had no stock in it, but you’re sure that you supply them at least half of their revenue, you probably sit on their rickety chairs more often than your actual couch at home. this place has nursed you through every college class and job interview preparations and beyond, and if it ever closed you might lose time off of your life span.

your movements from the door to the counter to your usual seat were robotic, muscle memory taking over while your head did somersaults through the clouds. it’s only when you take the first sip of coffee, the bitterness and heat hitting your tongue in a delightful dance, that you notice it.

another man is sitting next to changbin. a man that looks awfully familiar, and it takes you a moment to realize why. it’s the man from the bar.

“changbin?” you keep your eyes on the other man as you direct your question at changbin, trying hard to keep your face neutral. “explain?”

“i’m chan,” the man interjects before changbin can answer, reaching his hand across the table for you to shake. it’s warm, his grip somewhere perfectly in the middle of too hard and too soft, and he lets go after an appropriate amount of seconds. despite the neutral passivity of the gesture, you feel something ignite within you, and it threatens to sputter out when you catch no spark of recognition in his eyes. was he that drunk last night that he doesn’t remember you? do his sober eyes not find you as perfect?

“he crashed at my place last night,” changbin’s voice filters through your turmoil, and you finally break away from chan’s gaze to level him with a look. “and he needed coffee, so i brought him along. chan, this is y/n, my best friend.”

the conversation that followed flowed more freely than the coffee dripping from the machines behind the counter, and you almost hate how much you like it. chan is a little goofy, the man from the previous night shining through moments of seriousness and rapt attention.

by the time you had to leave to go to work you felt like you knew him. you learned where he lived (close to you!), that he worked with changbin (he’s a producer!), and that he loved all animals but he adored dogs (he has one named berry!). just an hour of casual conversation had led to you needing more of him in every aspect of your life, but still in the back of your head lived the thought of him not remembering you from the night before.

changbin leaves first, citing some meeting he had to run to in the middle of a yawn, and when you were left with chan the embarrassment began to set in.

“i’m going to marry you,” he blurts out, startling you so much you almost jump out of your seat.

“what?” you ask, a mixture of surprise and disbelief combining into a confusing vortex within your head - was he going to go through this again? you didn’t know if your heart could take it.

“i mean, i remember you,” he says before you could awkwardly excuse yourself and commit to getting to work early for the first time in a year just to escape being in a room alone with him for much longer. “i’m sorry, i was just embarrassed. i didn’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of changbin.”

“oh,” your breath leaves you all at once and you slump into your chair, understanding hitting you like a train. “that makes sense? i think?”

“i’m going to marry you,” he repeats, a mischievous glint in his eyes, the boy from last night shining through. “one day. i’m going to do it.”

“take me on a date first,” you tease back, a genuine smile stretching across your lips when he laughs, a full bodied thing that drew in eyes from the patrons across the room. for once, you didn’t seem to care that others’ eyes were on you. he made you feel comfortable.

“what are you doing tomorrow?” his mouth turns upwards into a beautiful smile that you can’t help but return.

“eager, are we?” you open your phone, sliding it across the table with the new contact page open on it. “i’m free.”

“you’re the most perfect person i’ve ever laid eyes on,” he says, as serious and genuine as the way he had proposed to you last night as he taps his number into your phone. “sorry if i’m a bit desperate.”

“don’t apologize,” you take your phone back, making a mental note to text him later. “i like it, for some unearthly reason. you’re cute, chan.”

the sound of his delighted laugh follows your footsteps all the way to work.

—

he picks you up for your first date at noon, right on the dot. he wasn’t a minute late, a polite knock sounding through your apartment just as the hour turned, as if he had been waiting and watching the time outside the door.

god, is everything about this man endearing?

he’s wearing shorts and a light sweater, looking like something out of a posh magazine. his hair is curly and swept off his forehead and he’s wearing a smile with the most adorable dimples shining through.

he leads you to his car and you have to hold back an impressed whistle. you knew changbin and his team did well for themselves, the name 3racha all over the credits of songs on the radio, but this car was nice. you were going to have a talk with changbin about why he still drove the same beat up sedan he’s had since college but that was a thought for later. right now all you wanted to think about was the man who held the door open for you to slide into the passenger seat and was now holding your hand over the middle console.

“do i get to know where we’re going?” you ask, peering at the map open on his phone but it tells you nothing more than that your destination was 15 minutes away and that he had to make a right turn in one mile.

“it’s a surprise,” he says, voice a little nervous but it was masked with excitement. wherever he was taking you, you would be happy to be there if he was this happy the whole time.

four songs on the radio later, one of which you teased him for when he revealed that he wrote it, he was pulling into a parking lot illuminated by flashing colorful lights. he had brought you to the fair.

“i’ve never been to the fair!” you bounced a little in your seat, wriggling in excitement. “i’ve always wanted to go, how did you know?”

“lucky guess?” he shrugs, avoiding your gaze as he cuts the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt.

“changbin told you, didn’t he,” you smile at the thought of chan asking his friend about what you’d like. it was cute, a word that you were probably exhausting when thinking about him even after a day of knowing him.

“yes, but,” he flushes, the tips of his ears burning red. “i asked him after i had decided to come here, just to make sure it was a good idea. i didn’t steal it from him.”

“hey, it’s okay,” you squeeze his hand in yours that he had yet to let go of in what you hoped was a comforting gesture. you didn’t know what brought him calmness yet, but you wanted to learn. you wanted to learn everything about him. “now, take me to the fair, bang chan. i was promised a date.”

he finally meets your eyes again and he’s grinning so happily that you feel like you had just won a prize. who needed a fair when you had your very own carnival game right here?

it turns out, you did. by the time the sun was beginning to set, your arms were full of various plushies that chan had won for you, each one earning him a hug and a kiss to his cheek. you treasured every single one, the fluttering in your chest when he stepped up to the booths to throw and shoot various things never ceasing.

“let’s go to the ferris wheel,” you tug at him with your free hand, thanking the skies when you see no queue there. “i bet the sunset looks beautiful from the top.”

he’s quiet when he follows you there and into the carriage, his thigh pressing against yours as he slides in next to you, but you don’t notice in your excitement. it isn’t until the wheel ticks to the top and stops that he grabs your hand again, trembling a little.

“chan? are you okay?” you ask, concern warping your voice as you turn towards him. your movement rocks the carriage a bit and he turns pale, ducking his head into your neck to hide.

“yeah, ‘m okay,” he murmurs, his eyelashes ticking your skin when he blinks his eyes shut. “just don’t like heights very much.”

“oh my god, why didn’t you tell me?” you cry out, jumping a bit and regretting it when you rock the carriage again. “nevermind that, what can i do? it’ll go down soon, you’ll be alright.”

“just keep holding my hand?” he squeezes your fingers lightly and your heart melts. you may have made a joke that he was just trying to trick you into holding his hand any other time, but the fear in his shaking body was real and you’d never tease him for that.

“of course,” you press a kiss to his hair, moving your other hand slowly to wrap around your intertwined fingers. the wheel begins to turn again, swaying the carriage as it descends. you keep your grip on his hand tight the entire time, all the way until you’re on your feet again on steady ground.

“i’m so sorry,” you begin to say, the horror of subjecting him to his fear creeping up now that the crisis has passed.

“i’m going to marry you,” he says, cutting off your apology and lifting your hands to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of yours. “no one’s ever been able to keep me that calm. thank you.”

you were left speechless after that and all you could do was smile at him, the ghost of it not leaving your face for the rest of the night.

–

your thirty first date with chan ends with you crying into changbin’s arms, utterly confused and the feeling of despair creeping up your veins. you had met him your cafe as you had done several times since the fair, but when you arrived he wasn’t there. he came late, dark storms in his eyes and a hard set to his jaw and you didn’t understand what had made him like that. the usual smile and twinkle in his eyes were missing, and when you and asked him about what was wrong he had snapped at you in a way you hadn’t been talked to in years.

you had left after that, brushing him off when his eyes had widened and he reached for you while calling out your name. you know that you should have given him a chance to explain, but at the time you were too hurt to consider it.

you made your way to changbin’s apartment without thinking, your feet taking you to safety before your head could catch up. changbin had taken one look at your face before wrapping you up in his arm, walking you to his couch so he could cuddle you properly while words spilled out of you like a leaky faucet. you felt like you were back in college, crying and blubbering over a boy who had rejected you at a party, and you hated it.

you didn’t notice changbin sending an angry text to chan, but the sound of changbin’s door opening with a bang startled you out of your tears. chan bursts in like a whirlwind, his hair sticking up at weird angles and a look of panic on his face as he takes you in. he reaches the couch in a few strides and falls to his knees in front of you, holding a crumpled bag from the cafe in his hand and taking your cheek gently into his other. his thumb wipes at the tear tracks there and you could practically taste the guilt emanating off of him.

“love, i am so sorry,” he starts, ignoring changbin when he scoffs at the apology. “i shouldn’t have snapped at you, i had no right to do that. i got some bad news this morning and i wasn’t feeling my best, and i should have been honest with you. i’ll never do anything like that again, please forgive me? i’ll do anything.”

it was more his voice than his words that did it - he sounded so desperate, like he was trying to hold

onto a ledge that was crumbling, threatening to hurl his body into eternal nothingness. you knew him, you knew he was sorry, and against your first instinct you trusted him when he said he wouldn’t do it again.

“is that an almond croissant?” you eye the bag in his hand.

“it’s two almond croissants,” he nods fervently, his hair swishing back and forth with the movement. you sit up, sliding out of changbin’s arms and onto the floor in front of chan. chan’s arms replace changbin’s easily when you lean into him, and it feels like coming home.

“it’s not like i have a nice couch you could be sitting on,” changbin mutters as he leaves, shaking his head fondly at the two of you before making himself scarce.

chan kisses you, cradling your head gently into his hands, and they’re so warm. he slides his lips against yours, slowly like he’s taking his time memorizing the planes of your mouth to commit to memory. even after kissing him dozens of times you still find new things to learn about each other.

“i swear,” he says, pulling away to meet your eyes. “i’m going to marry you, someday.”

“keep getting me croissants as apologies and we’ll see,” you say, sniffling into his neck.

—

your eighty seventh date was spent in your bed, your head spinning like both hands on a clock simultaneously and your body exuding more sweat than you ever have.

chan is wringing out a cool cloth to place on your forehead and it feels so nice that you moan.

“i’m sorry,” you mutter, and chan has lost count of the amount of times you’ve said it at this point. “we had a date and i ruined it.”

“we were going to see a movie,” he says, running a hand up and down your spine. “and we will. we don’t need a movie theater when we have a screen right here, hmm?”

“but the popcorn,” you complain, closing your eyes in bliss when he runs a hand through your hair, scratching gently at your scalp. an apology for being so sweaty was at the tip of your tongue but you hold it back in favor of enjoying the feeling of his touch.

“i’ll make you all the popcorn you want when you’re feeling better,” he promises, dropping a kiss to the side of your head. “for now, how does soup sound?”

“popcorn soup?“ you ask, a wave of dizziness taking over your body; if you weren’t lying down already, you’re sure that too would be falling over.

“yeah, baby,” and even in your delirium the fondness in his voice was prominent. he couldn’t hide it even if he tried. “i’ll make you some popcorn soup. get some rest okay?”

you’re asleep before he leaves the room, and you only wake up when he shakes your shoulder a bit and helps you into an upright position. he feeds you bites of what is definitely not popcorn soup after putting a movie on your laptop, the screen sitting at the foot of your bed. the both of you fall asleep before the movie finishes, but you don’t mind.

he stays with you for days, making you soup and tea and toast and feeding you medicine and being an all-around angel as he nurses you back to health. by the time you’re better you think you’ve fallen back in love with him several times.

as you had expected and warned him about, he catches your sickness the next week, and now it’s your turn to be his nurse. you try and do the same job he did, but his delirium seems worse. the silver lining is that his fever isn’t as bad, so you’re babysitting a babbling boyfriend more than a sick one.

the night before his fever breaks is the worst, since he doesn’t even recognize you. you shake your head at his silliness when he asks who you are and calls you pretty. you smile when he takes your hand in his and asks you to come closer.

you tear up when he tells you that he has a girlfriend that he loves very much and so even though you’re pretty he can’t do anything else because his girlfriend is the prettiest one in the whole world. you let a tear slip when he tells you that he can’t wait to propose to his girlfriend and that he’s going to marry her someday.

you tell him that you have a boyfriend that you're going to marry someday, trusting that he wouldn’t remember it in the morning.

—

your hundredth and fifth date was not unlike your fifth, or your tenth, or your ninetieth. two and a half years later, you were just as endeared by him and he was just as obsessed with you - even more so, if it were possible.

he takes the time to tell you how gorgeous you look when he picks you up just like he does on every date, and you hide your disgustingly fond smile for him behind his back like you do every time you see him.

he parks and runs around the car to let you out like he does every time you habit this restaurant, a little fancier than your usual best but it was a favorite of the both of yours - across the street from the bar the two of you had met at.

you start walking before he does, letting him jog to meet you and complain about how you left him, just like you do every time. before him. you might have thought the monotony would have gotten tiring, but he had a fantastical ability to make every moment feel like the first despite their practiced nature.

he calls your name from behind you right on schedule and you hum in acknowledgement, turning towards him absentmindedly. the second you lay eyes on him you’re completely alert, though; he isn’t jogging after you, but rather he’s kneeling on the sidewalk, a small box in his hands as he smiles up at you.

“i’ve told you that i’m going to marry you more times than i can count,” he starts, eyes shining like the stars twinkling in the night sky above you. “but this time i’m asking you.”

“chan,” you choke out, hands coming up to cover your mouth as it quivers. tears spring to your eyes and you silently curse yourself - you always thought you’d be level headed when you got proposed to, but nothing could have prepared you for this, not even the thousands of declarations he had made to you prior.

“i love you. you’re the only one in the entire universe that i need more than blood or breath, you’re the song that runs through my heart and the fire that leads my path when i’m lost,” his voice is thick, like he’s trying to hold back his emotions long enough to get his words out. “i never thought that i would feel so strongly for someone, i never thought that i deserved a love like this until i met you.”

he pauses as you walk closer to him, letting you approach him before he continues.

“my love, my eternal light,” he’s tearing up now, blinking fast to keep the salty water at bay. “will you marry me?”

“chan,” you start, kneeling down next to him and taking his wrists in your hands. “i never told you this, but ever since that first day i knew. i knew that the drunk idiot that was hitting on me would be my husband.”

he chuckles, smiling delightedly as the tears finally spring from both of your eyes in unison.

“so?” he trails off, searching your face with his eyes, waiting.

“oh!” you tighten your grip on him in an apology. “of course i’ll marry you, gosh i love you so much.”

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids #skz fluff #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader

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viharbinger · 6 months

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Job Interview

Mike Schmidt x gn!Reader

Warnings: FNAF MOVIE SPOILERS ( not too much)

tags: established relationship, fluffity fluff fluff

Right now, you were helping Mike get ready for his job interview. It was bright and early in the morning, Abby was still sleeping while you two were standing in the middle of the corridor. "You thinking of being a security guard again?" I asked, focused on fixing his tie so that it was fitting and not too tight around his neck.

"Yeah. But I'll take any job at this point." He sighs before he continues, "So.. What do you think?" He opens his arms to show you his full look.

"I think you're absolutely handsome and I'd give you the job on the spot— whatever it is." I laugh, fixing his hair so it was more presentable. "Be serious." He chuckles, now he was pushing your messy bed hair away from your cheeks to behind your ear. It was early in the morning, after all.

"You're perfect, Mike. I think they'd love you. Just don't be too nervous." I encourage him, wrapping my arms around his neck to place a chaste kiss on his lips. He holds onto your waist, pecking you on the lips after as response.

"Alright, alright. Oh. My interview starts in half an hour. You think you can watch over Abby while I'm gone? I won't be long." He says after he checks his watch, picking up his papers of resumes that were so neatly organised and arranged by you. "I hope you won't. It would be farrrr too lonely without you." I fake whined, giggling as he pinches my cheek.

"I'll pick you and Abby up for breakfast, okay?" He promises, taking a quick look at himself in the mirror before heading out the door.

The whole time in the waiting room he was spacing out and couldn't even realise it was his turn for his interview. He just kept thinking about having to take care of Abby. And you.

You have your own job and home too, but he still feels like he should owe you something for being there for him and his little sister. The feeling of your lips still linger on his, and he's already feeling needy for more despite it being only a while since you've seen each other.

See? Despite that, he's only thinking about taking kisses from you than giving back. God, he's so selfish for you.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #. bee writes #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddys x reader #fnaf movie

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jihyoruri · 4 months

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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 SHAMELESS kazuha nakamura x reader

↳ warnings: idol!au, sserafim!reader, fluff

doing press in another country was different, it was interesting to kazuha on how different the interview will go based on the type of interviewer you have, you have the stush ones that ask the most stuck up questions, you have the thoughtful ones that are genuinely interested in learning more about the group, you have the funny ones that know how to ease the tension and then you have the shameless ones, the type that kazuha is encountering right now.

“sorry, yn you’re making me nervous,” the interviewer said to the girl beside kazuha who laughs, “am I?” yn asks making the interviewer giggle like a school girl while kazuha tried her best not to scrunch up her face.

“yeah, you like eye contact im guessing,” the interviewer says as yn nods her head, yunjin budding in saying that she indeed does like eye contact.

“I do,” yn responds leaning back in her seat causing the interviewer to let out another giggle causing kazuha to mentally roll her eyes, the girl was used to witnessing yn’s affects on people, mostly women so she doesn’t know why this one bothered her the most.

“I guess my research told me the truth, you really are here for the visual service.” kazuha couldn’t help but tilt her head at that but sakura nudged her.

“that’s my job,” yn shrugs nonchalantly, fixing the backwards cap on her head and kazuha feels like she’s gonna scream when she hears that giggle again.

“has anybody told you that you’re nose is perfect,” the interviewer says tucking a strand of hair behind her ear her gaze intensely on yn, causing the other members to give each other small looks, mostly at kazuha.

“not as nicely as you, most of the time they ask where I got my alleged nose job done,” the interviewer lets out a laugh at yn’s response.

“you’re so funny,” the interviewer says before bringing her attention to yunjin proceeding the interview, but not without taking peeks at yn every few seconds or letting out that awful giggle every time yn says something.

kazuha’s energy was obviously off as the interview went on and she knew yn could sense it but she just didn’t know what could be bothering the japanese girl.

yn was oblivious like that.

“okay, before this interview finishes yn, im sorry but you are so fine.” the girl says causing all the girls to laugh in shock except kazuha who just forces a smile.

yn flashes her charming smile to interviewer, “it’s the visual service I guess.” she says quoting the girl as the interviewer lets out another giggle before the cameras stop rolling and kazuha is already walking over to their manager to get a sip of her water.

yn talks with yunjin as they walked over to another one of their managers, yn taking her sunglasses from them and putting it on her face.

“is that even necessary?” yunjin laughs while the younger girl adjusts the expensive sunglasses.

“it completes the outfit, I would’ve worn it in the interview but then I would’ve looked baked.” yn says placing one of her wired headphones in her ear, before looking to the side to see kazuha with her face in her phone, “im gonna go talk to zuha,” yn says pointing at the girl while yunjin nods understandingly.

“watching edits of me again?” kazuha looked up from her phone and is met with her girlfriend with her eyes covered in sunglasses, and she can’t help but laugh in her head at the girl wearing sunglasses inside.

“that was one time,” she rolls her eyes as yn grabs her hands and pulls her up from her seat and takes the girls spot, kazuha’s mouth dropped at the action before yn then pulls her to sit in her lap.

kazuha feels her face heat up as yn places her chin on her shoulder before whispering in her ear, “are gonna tell me?”

“tell you what?” kazuha asks back, she feels shivers go down her spine as yn whispers back, “what’s got you so in your feelings?”

oh.

as much as kazuha loves yn, sometimes she feels like the girl could be a perfect bimbo so attractive but so oblivious and dumb sometimes.

“oh, I don’t know maybe it was the interviewer flirting with you like her life depended on it,” kazuha was used to seeing the flirts with yn but this one was just so shameless, she wasn’t even trying to be subtle at all.

yn opens her mouth but kazuha cuts her off, “and don’t play dumb, she was literally about to jump across the table towards you if she could.”

yn just lets out a laugh and wraps her arms around kazuha’s waist pulling the girl closer, “so you’re jealous?” she teases

“what do you think?” kazuha says embarrassed at yn’s teasing tone, “and take off those stupid sunglasses, we’re inside.”

“okay, first of all rude,” yn pinches kazuha’s side causing the girl to squirm, “it doesn’t matter who flirts with me im still gonna be all yours so you have nothing to worry about, right? im still gonna be your smoking hot girlfriend.”

kazuha rolls her eyes and mumbles out a yeah to the point that it’s inaudible, “I didn’t quite catch that, wanna repeat that for me?” yn whispers in her ear, tickling her side

“I said yeah.” kazuha says loudly flinching at yn’s tickling before turning her head around to face yn, “you said you’re my smoking hot girlfriend does that make me yours?”

“it’s that even a question?” yn responds before a look grows on her face and kazuha immediately knows she’s gonna say something dumb so she grabs the chain on yn’s neck and pulls her towards her lips softly kissing her.

yn smiles into the kiss and brings her hand from kazuha’s waist to the back of the girls neck deepening the kiss.

“the car is here,” yunjin interrupts them with a look of disgust on her face.

kazuha looks down in embarrassment and gets up from yn’s lap, pulling the girl up with her who’s the exact opposite of her with zero traces of embarrassment on her face.

“what didn’t say about kissing in front of me, where is your shame?” yunjin says pointing her finger towards the younger couple.

yn let’s put a deep sigh and puts back in her wired headphones in her ear before wrapping an arm around kazuha’s waist and proceeding to walk towards the exit, “you’re just mad you’re alone.”

“hey!”

#lesserafim x reader #Lesserafim #kazuha nakamura #kazuha x reader #kazuha nakamura x reader #lesserafim fluff #girl group imagines #girl group fluff

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kimhargreeves · 6 months

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The Night Shift -Mike Schmidt x Reader (FNAF live action)

Summary: You and Mike have never gotten on the right foot, always bickering and never standing each other's presence. The day comes when both of you are interviewed for the same job and are forced to work together to see who will win the job as a security guard at a deadly pizzeria.

(A/N: The Fnaf movie is almost here! Anyone else ready to watch it this weekend?! Here's the Mike Schmidt x Reader I promised a while back. Hope it's okay but female reader is mentioned to be a bit of a goth/alternative type of girl. Also, things may change in the next part since I am writing this a few days before the movies release date. Let me know how I did and if you want part 2 once we've seen the movie)

I'd also like to tag these kind people who asked me to tag them once this was up, @riaqiax @ahsfan23 @lufvg

"Please come again and have a fantastic day!" I beam and smile as I watch the client I had attended begin to leave the store I was working at.

As soon as they are out of my sight I sigh deeply and frown looking at the direction they left. "I don't get paid enough for this crap." I tell no one.

The client has begun to ask many questions, wether the store finally had the item they had been asking for, or if the movies on the dvd sections were any good, if I had any recommendations for any.

After about half an hour of trying to convince the person to take something from the store, they had decided to leave with a few snacks and movies.

The store I have been working at happens to be a combination of many things, dvd rentals, clothes, snacks and a few figures for sale. At least it paid a bit better than the last job I had, it was a nice job with nice alternative music but the pay wasn't that good.

"(Y/N), you're on your break. Make sure to come back in 15." My coworker passed me when they returned from the restroom.

I nodded my head and left the store beginning to walk further into the mall where I have been working for a few months and began walking to the food area hoping to fill my stomach with some cheap food.

It was a calm Friday with only a few people or families circling around the building. Many kids running over to small area, an ice cream shop called 'Ice Cream Parties'.

I ordered my usual choice of food. Three sandwiches, fries and a taco. I reached my hand into the bag and began to eat minding my own business when I sat down by an empty area and I stopped chewing when I saw two men running past me.

Two security guards running fast and avoiding running into people. Immediately this caught my attention, so I began to follow the guards and quickened my pace when I heard a girl yelling for her dad.

I stayed behind from a crowd that formed near the mall's water fountain and I saw a figure, no, two in fact inside the water fountain, but one was beating the other and the worst thing was that it was one of the security guards.

"Daddy!"

People took out their flip phones and began to take a few pictures of what was happening, it quickly ended when the two men who had run past me earlier stepped into the water and pulled the poor man beneath the security guard away.

One of them began to deal with the man with a small girl running over to her beaten dad, and the other one roughly began to question the young man's actions and took him away inside an office room.

"Fuck." I muttered when I saw the man was dragged away.

I rolled my eyes and went back to my working place and spotted my coworker, "Hey, you think you can cover for me this time? Something very important and tragic happened."

My coworker nodded his head and as soon as he agreed I started running back outside the store and into the security room.

"Do you know how many paperworks we gotta do and how our establishments reputation will only decrease any more because of what you did?!" I heard the deep voice of a man question the young security guard.

"How many times are you going to give me a hard time, Mr Schmidt?"

"The man deserved it." He answered his boss.

His boss remained quiet probably just staring and him and not knowing exactly what to do. "So that's what you think? You're fired."

The man sighed but said nothing. "I'll have you sign a few paperwork before you leave and an investigation will be taken place right now. So this'll take some time to be resolved."

His boss has walked past me but said nothing assuming I was the guards family. I rolled to eyed and leaned my head forward and tilted it when I saw Mike crossing his arms.

"You're anger issues has only gotten worse." I say uninterested and notice Mike roll his eyes when he saw me.

"The fuck is you're problem?" He looked at me again and scoffed when he noticed my appearance.

Freshly dyed black hair and now with a single piercing over my eyebrow.

"You look like shit."

"I was about to say the same thing." I tell him not bothered by his words.

"Why are you so weird?" He scoffed again and looked away from me.

I poured pretending I was hurt. "Daddy issues. What can I say?" I chuckled darkly "You have anger issues, my guy. I have daddy issues. Tell me what's worse."

Mike remained silent when I mentioned him that. I looked around the onto sound coming from the clock on the wall.

"Why did you do it?" I ask him wanting to know his reason on attacking a man in front of his young daughter.

"And why should I tell you?" He remarked. "I don't owe you any favors because you got me this job weeks ago."

"I only did it for her and you know it." I defended myself and crossed my arms over my chest as well.

"Well I don't need anyone's help and that being less from you. I can take care of my own problem."

Mine has been struggling for a while now. Barely having enough money for himself, rent or raising his sister since she had no one left to look after her. The guy has his issues but it doesn't mean he had to be like this, he doesn't have a lot of money and the first thing he does is try to get himself fired… well he is definitely fired now.

Another thing I'd like to mention. Is that Mike and I have never gotten along, we've known each other for almost our entire lives and know what has happened to each other, but we've refused to get along. Not once had he been nice to me and never have I been nice to him.

We've both been through a lot of mess, similar to one another's, and instead of making us grow closer we simply grew further apart.

"Michael." I warn.

"(Y/N)." Michael says back now each of us looking at one another.

I try to remain calm and not start up another argument which always happens when we're together in a room.

Mike is the first to break eye contact and he sighs when he checks the clock again. It's nearly 2pm.

He mutters a few cursed words and looks down at lap. "Can you do me a favor and pick up Abbey from school?"

I lift an eyebrow looking at him. "Please? I know you don't own a car, so you can take mine."

Mike digs for his car keys inside from his pocket and holds them up for me. I smirk as I take them from him.

"Why trust me with your car? I can easily steal it from you and escape town."

"Because deep beneath all the bitchiness, black clothes and awful piercing. I know your a bit less tolerable when it comes to kids." Mike said glancing back at me and looking a bit too relaxed in this situation

I stared at the worn out paper sign in my hands. A second job wouldn't hurt…"Wanted security guard for night shift. Quickly I scribbled the number on my palm and crumbled the paper over and left it on the backseat.

I stepped out of car when I had parked it and recognized Mike's little sister. "(Y/N)?" She asked not expecting me at all.

Many months ago I had looked after her, now I only see her every once in a while, whenever she'd leave school early, Mike would have her stay at the mall until his shift would be over.

I came to see Abbey as a little sister as well especially since we saw each other growing up and Mike would take odd jobs at night leaving me to look after Abbey while she was still rather young.

"I'll be your escort for this ride. Hope that's fine with you, and hopefully you're teacher doesn't think I'm here to kidnap you." I tell her when I see her teacher looking at me weird.

Abbey waved her hand at the teacher making then sure she knew me.

"I'm late to my shift, so, let's hurry up shall we?" Abbey nods her head and got into the backseat when I got into the car again and turned it back on and starting driving back to the mall.

"It's been a while since we last saw each other. Thought you wouldn't remember me." I joked at the young girl while I glanced back and saw her looking outside the scenery as I drove by the familiar streets

"Of course I still remember you. My brother mentions you often." Abbey said getting my attention from her.

Didn't expect Mike to talk about me to his younger sister, Abbey.

"Oh? What does he say about me?"

"Says you're a bitch, weird and complains about his job or yours." I frowned and remained quiet. Of course why was I expecting nice from him.

"Those are his words, not mine. I actually enjoy spending time with you." Abbey said.

My expression softened when I heard Abbey says she enjoys my company. I smiled to myself and agreed with her, "I also enjoy spending time with you, Abbey."

Abbey hummed still looking outside the windows. "My brother got fired, didn't he?"

"…Yes, he did…"

Mike and I only exchanged a few words when I arrived back. He was fired, of course he was or he'd be in prison for what he did. He was probably going to celebrate later that he would no longer have to see my face at work. The guy has his problems but always finds time to argue of talk about me.

I feel for Abbey especially since she has no other female figure to talk about and have to stand and listen to her brother being annoying most of the time.

"Hey! You lose your brain there for a second?" Mike questioned which earned him a shove from his sister.

"(Y/N) thank you for picking me up from school and taking care of my dumb brother." Abbey said being the only polite and rational one out of the pair.

I smiled and patted her short hair. "Anytime Abbey. Maybe we can have a small girls night sometime." I suggest which made her smile a bit.

"You'll only end up corrupting her." Mike said playing with the car keys in his hands.

"Mike." Abbey said making him look down at her with his brown eyes.

He rolled his eyes and shrugged a bit. "Thanks for looking after my sister…well see you never." He said taking his sister's hand and beginning to leave.

How rude. If he weren't cute I definitely would've thrown him again into the water fountain..wait..what am I even saying?! Forget this, I've lost about half an hour of work time because of doing the guy a favor.

I huff to myself watching Mike and Abbey leave the mall for good. I turn around and headed to my work but the moment I arrived, I spotted Tom coworker and my boss looking at me with a face that said it all.

"You're fired."

"Let's hear a round of applause for the birthday girl!"

The lights changed and was now shining across the stage with cheery music playing as background while kids cheered when the pizzerias mascots made an appearance.

The pizzerias staff began to clap along when they began to sing 'happy birthday ' to me. My entire class was invited to my party.

My uncle was the one who invited them over since he knew I didn't have that too many friends, and he wanted me to get in with the right crowd. He knew that I was in a group of kids who would often bully others, I did it so I wouldn't be alone or be the one getting bullied.

I definitely chose the wrong crowd back then, all because I didn't want to be lonely…

My aunt and uncle raised me as their own since I could remember. They treated me like their own kid since they could never have any. They liked to throw these types of parties and invite everyone they knew.

Both of them were always fond and always liked to help financially to one of my classmates, that one being Mike Schmidt. He was kinda of a shy kid, and wasn't that fond at making an appearance at a birthday party without a present to give.

My uncle and aunt didn't mind that he didn't have the money, they still convinced the small kid to come and have a good time. Mike didn't want to leave his very little sister behind so my aunt would be carrying her everywhere.

I watched with glee as my favorite animatronic made his way towards me. I got up on my seat and smiled wide as I watched Bonnie come in with a colorful and big cake in his hands. One of the staff from the place approached and grabbed the cake placing in front of me, the cake seemed delicious with it's different colored candles.

I hugged onto my stuffed Bonnie plush as I wrapped one arm around the animatronic and felt one of its large paws patting my head.

I stared at the worn down building ahead of me as my hands were kept on my bike. 'Freddy's Pizzeria' read a sign just outside. The guy in charge must be inside or late to our meeting, as soon as they fired me from my job at the mall was when I decided to call this place up.

I'm a night owl after all so this'll be a piece of cake. All I gotta see is how much is the paycheck and I'll make sure to be the best security guard.

Maybe I'll be the only one around and have a nice time inside, remember those fond memories of the times I would come to this place and love following around the animatronics.

I knocked on the door a couple of more times waiting until someone would show up. The door slowly opened and I came face to face with an older looking man with large glasses.

"You're (Y/N) (L/N), correct?"

"Yes, sir. It's nice to finally meet you in person." I smiled trying to be as nice as I can.

"Pleasure is all mine…Please come inside." He said when he spotted the weather was beginning to change.

It was getting a bit chilly and the clouds were turning grey, about to rain a bit probably later. "You got here rather early."

"Yeah. The most important thing about a job is getting early." I chuckle beginning to follow the man not that far behind, but still remaining close to the entrance. "I do live a bit far from here but it's no trouble."

The man stopped and turned to face me. "You own a car?" He questioned and I knew I would be screwed if I said No.

"W-Well I don't..but I'm willing to come out here at any hour."

As soon as he was about to say something else, another knock was heard from the other side of the door. The man gave me a quick look and walked past me to open the door once again, I was surprised when I saw I wasn't the only one here.

Mike Schmidt had also applied for the job…

"No fucking way." Both Mike and I said looking at each other and wanting to strangle each other.

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #five nights at freddy's movie #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf x reader #fnaf fanfic #blumhouse #horror #josh hutcherson

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dreamauri · 9 months

Text

♪ — 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗞 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗡𝗢𝗧 f1 grid [platonic] x fem! driver! reader (fluff) “. . . you musn't stay in a place where you aren't valuable.”

( main masterlist ) ( requests | taglist )

You sat quietly, watching from afar as the Mercedes garage celebrated your twin brother's birthday. A sigh escaped your lips as you shifted around in the foldable chair, pulling your knees up to your chest. "Must be nice." Lando commented, a smile on his face as he watched your brother receive a cake to his face.

"Yeah." You replied, mustering a smile. Your teammate patted your shoulder gently before bidding you a goodnight. You got up soon after, putting away the chair and picking up your bag before leaving the track.

Barley having up enough will power to return to the hotel with the swirl in your chest and the grey clouding your thoughts, you flop on your bed, looking out the window at the busy city despite the time being after dark.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Climbing out of your p4 spot, you sighed as your team cheered on Lando, hugging and him along with throwing praises left and right. Were they forgetting that you had been defending him from any attackers since starting in P11? Not, 'job well done, Y/N' 'couldn't have done it without you Y/N', not even a thank you. Not even an acknowledgment.

Were you that much of a background character? An extra? Your weight was taken and you were given the go to go back to the motorhome, sitting in your driver's room silently, laying on the floor facing up. What were you doing with your life? Seven years into this sport and you've only become invisible.

'This is wrong.' You thought with your blurred own vision, tears flowing down the side of your face. This was indeed wrong, and you were going to figure something out. You always do. That's how the second ones survive. And sadly, you were always second. Second child, second driver, second position, second best, second choice, second important. Second second second second second. Second.

You want to be first! And so you decided, switching out the car route. And so, you grabbed your helmet and turned it into a canvas.

★☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Although it was too late into the championship to be a runner up you proudly parked your McLaren in the P3 spot, your starting position for tomorrows race. You jumped out of your car jumping heavily in excitement as you pulled of your head protection and the fabric underneath. You gently kissed the redesigned helmet, before setting on the given table.

It was certainly a surprise to see you so high up on the grid since you usually kept behind your teammate to help him climb through the rankings. Your team was clapping in the background, but not for you. And you couldn't care less, reading the words you drew on the helmet. 'The Last Laps' you read again, which only widened your smile.

"You changed the design of your helmet. Can you tell us the meaning behind it?" "No." You replied bluntly, your smile permanent on your face. The word felt so reliving. Now that you quit the team and wont be returning next year, you drove for yourself, and no one else. "It speaks for itself."

Max and Charles watched you intrigued, never expecting to be sitting in this room with you. And what surprised them more was how little you were entertaining the media. You usually give them what you want, and this is the first time someone has ever heard you say no, especially this excessive.

"Is it true that this will be your last season with McLaren?" An interviewer asked and you nodded smiling. "Which team will you be going to next year." "Team? Who said anything about teams?" You chuckled leaning back in your chair relaxed. Max couldn't stop glancing at you. Something stirred in his stomach knowing you wouldn't be there next season.

youruser

liked by pieregasly sebastianvettel and 5.6M others youruser grace likes boat rides

user dont leave! ↳ youruser you had me for seven years

user we're going to miss you <3 ↳ youruser you wont <3

mclaren we all love captain grace 🫡 → youruser deleted this comment

user you're so pretty <3 ↳ youruser i am, thank you <3

★☆ ━━━━��━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"An amazing win for the the McLaren driver." The commentators praised as you beat Max Verstappen to the checkered flag. You were screaming and shouting from euphoria and adrenaline as you began your cool down, feeling your heartbeat in your ears and your blood flowing through your fingers.

"This is her first win in five years, she must be- oh she's doing donuts." Reaching the end of your lap, you did a quick donut to celebrate. The commentator laughed as you parked your car in the P1 spot, getting up and dancing on your halo.

You were jumping, screaming and shouting. You couldn't be more happier as you jumped down. Pulling your helmet and balaclava off you watched as you brother parked in the P3 spot behind your car. He looked at you for two seconds before putting a thumbs up. You could only scoff and roll your eyes.

"That was a close call, on the last lap with Max." "It was very fun." You nodded happily, brushing a few stands out off your face as your face showed on the big screen. "I haven't felt like this since the rookie days. And I cant wait for the next races to come so I can beat you all again." You giggled before walking away.

Lando slammed his hand on the steering wheel frustrated, falling from P5 to P9 did not look good at all, he never realized how much you worked to keep defend him. And now he lost his wall of protection.

★☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Max patted your head once you got out of your car from free practice. Looking up at your former teammate, you patted his shoulder before walking back to your garage. Next to come greet you was Lewis, who pulled you in a side hug, giving you a praise. And soon, half of the grid stopped by to cheer you on.

You could only laugh at yourself. Where they only noticing you now? With two more weekends before your ultimate retirement. hopping in an ice bath in the back somewhere, you scrolled through your phone, looking interestingly at the the comments of people begging you to stay and wishing you good luck alike. And when you were in the fan zone, taking selfies and signing merch and flags. "Happy late birthday!" Snapping your head up to the voice, you met eyes with a stranger who could only smile at you brightly.

You could only giggle as he held out a decorated bag with a birthday decorations. "What's this? Do you want me to sigh it?" "No, it's for you." He exclaimed happily with an accent you could not quite put your finger on, gesturing for you to take it. "I didn't have enough money to stop by on your actual birthday week. But I'm here now!"

"Aww, you didn't have to." Your smile was genuine as you looked at him, taking your cap off and signing it along with leaving a message and your number. "Call, me and I'll pay you back I promise." You put the cap on his head for him, before kissing his cheek and giving him a warm hug which he gladly returned.

This was the start of something new, a brand and clean chapter.

★☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"What will you be doing after you retire?" "None of your business." You leaned forward on the desk, leaning your chin on your palm. "All you need to know is that I'm not driving again and you probably won't see or hear from me ever again." You smiled cheekily watching the reporter pull an annoyed and dissapointed expression.

Charles, Carlos, Max, Lewis and Alex were all sitting, scattered to each of your side looking at you with an explainable expression, one that was close to sadness or regret. "Do you think you'll be able to get P1 in quali and keep the lead throughout the whole race?"

"Of course I do, but that's boring. Hopefully the Ferrari boys put up a good fight or Max even, he's doing really well this season, yeah?" You leaned forward to look at the boy a few seats away. "It's always fun with Max around." You nodded smiling, the boy quickly nodding and returning your smile.

"Question to everyone, how do you feel about Y/N's retirement?" Charles could only sigh deeply a small smile.

"Y/N was my uh, first teammate. She's the first friend I made in my racing career during my karting days, she helped me ease into Formula one and taught me the ropes and has has always been by mu side no matter what. It will certainly feel empty without her, but I respect her decision and reasons."

"I think I speak for all of us when we say we will all miss Y/N. It definitely won't feel the same without her. Y/N had been my teammate several times with different teams, and hopefully she'll answer my calls when I invite her for Christmas dinner." The Spaniard came second.

"I had the most fun when Y/N was my teammate. Out of the car she's really a force to be reckoned with and she makes it look so easy to make people smile. I am going to miss her around and her jokes. And hopefully we stay in touch and picks up the phone." Lewis after that.

"I personally owe my three world titles to Y/N, she's always had my back. On and off track, and I will always remember her for that. I'll defiantly miss when she cooked for me, cause I don't know how I'm not going to poison myself without her. I think- I think" Max leaned forword so he could look at you. "You were teammates with almost everyone on the grid yeah?" You nodded smiling. "Yeah, It's going to feel bland without her, I don't even want to imagine that."

"I owe my whole career to Y/N, There was this one time-" He interrupted himself with his own laugh. "My kart was junked before quali and I remember Y/N fixing it for me. And I know that, if she never helped me, I would've never reached to where I am now."

A few people laughed as the boys that could reach you patted your shoulder and head proudly. Hearing their words almost made your heart warm, where have these kind words been for the past 5 years you wonder as you exited the room alongside your PR manager "Very emotional," you commented sighing.

★☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Arriving on the track you see all the drivers lined up in two lines for you to pass through. A smile spread on your lips as they chanted your name. Quickly putting your arms through the second half of your race suit you began going through the list of drivers hugging Max (who gently nudged your ass with his foot, a red bull tradition), Carlos, Charles, Lewis, Daniel, Alex. When you got to Lando he gave you a bone crushing hug, which made you tear up as you returned the embrace.

When you hopped in your car, pulling on your helmet that was now professionally redesigned with the words 'The Final Drive' written on with several images containing memories scattered around. You felt warm tears run down your eyes as you watched the red lights flicker.

The sport that you have fought and lost so much for. The Life you bled for, cried for, sold yourself to.

Here it was, coming to an end.

you were free.

"Voi ieși cu tine într-o secundă." [I'll be out with you in a second] The four boys sighed as they leaned against the broken down car. "Does anyone speak that language." Lando frowned at the unfamiliar tongue. Out of the four languages in Switzerland, their aid spoke one they have never heard before.

"I don't even know what that is." Carlos sighed running his hand over his face. "Maybe she understands German?" Daniel suggested to Max who only pursed his lips. "Verzeihung." [excuse me] The Dutch man tried, his accent and pronunciation off.

"I can speak English." You confirmed walking out of the garage, freezing upon your eyes landing on your former teammates, the wrench you held falling out of your grip with a loud clank.

"Mama, esti bine?" [mama, are you okay].

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celeryb1tch · 1 month

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how you and spencer meet!

receptionist!reader starts a new job at the BAU, and a very handsome coworker shows her around!

content: meet cute, fem!reader, pov you’re an idiot who’s sensitive to blood, fainting for the plot and not in the way it works in real life lol, confident-ish but pretty canon compliant mid-seasons spencer!

—

the FBI certainly isn’t the place for squeamish little pansies…

at least, that’s what you were told in your interview. and you had nodded diligently, ignoring the lump in your throat as you thought about how you almost fainted the last time you had bloodwork done. but as a secretary, how bad could it get, right? you tried to assure yourself of this when you got the job offer.

on a brisk friday morning, you were wandering through the FBI Academy campus in an attempt to find your office. everyone around you seemed to be in a hurry, and no one had given you the time of day when you attempted to ask for directions. so fifteen minutes before your first day started, opposed to the promised half hour, you entered the NSAVC building with your tail between your legs.

the bullpen was empty. you had expected to be met by a trainer, or perhaps the person whose job you would be taking over, but you instead faced a grouping of empty desks. as you peered around the open area, your eyes landed on a conference room with large windows, allowing you to see a group of agents. with a sigh of relief, you headed up the stairs and knocked on the door lightly before letting yourself in.

before you was a circular table seating five people, all with their eyes trained directly on you. “hi!” you chirped. “i was looking for-“

“i think you’re lost, miss. students shouldn’t be allowed access into this department,” demanded a man in a full suit, who seemed to be in charge.

your smile faded as you saw the various displeased faces looking back at you. “oh no, i’m not…” in an attempt to avoid eye contact, you raised your sight to the opposite wall, projector casting images of open wounds and a dismembered corpse. and in only a second, your vision was going black.

—

the white of fluorescent bulbs seared even through to the inside of your eyelids, but despite this you still blinked a few times to shake the disorientation and open your eyes.

your legs were eased up in the air with a chair, brand new pencil skirt hiked slightly up your thighs. you felt the texture of carpet against your back through your blouse and the cool of ice on your forehead. your first instinct was to sit up and reorient yourself, which you tried to no avail.

“hey, hey, easy,” an unidentifiable voice said soothingly. you scanned your surroundings, finding a man with chin length chestnut hair in your periphery who couldn’t be much older than you. he was crouched beside you, apple juice box in hand and concern in his eyes. god, his eyes were pretty, you thought. like pools of dappled sunlight.

it took you a few seconds to recognize him as one of the displeased members of the conference room, and the previous events rushed back to you, bringing a flush to your cheeks. “i am so sorry, sir. um, agent. detective? there was a misunderstanding, and that was so unprofessional of me.”

he had a small smile playing on his lips as he scanned your face. he seemed to be entertained by the fact that you were so flustered, letting you finish rambling before he replied. “doctor spencer reid, and no worries at all. a freeze response to gore is a fairly common reaction. while you were unconscious we were able to identify you as the new front desk secretary, we thought you were starting next week so we weren’t expecting anyone.”

you visibly relaxed at his explanation. it seemed possible that you wouldn’t be fired on the spot for this. you took the hand he outstretched to you, helping you up from the ground slowly. he offered you the juice box, to which you shook your head. “i’m okay, but thank you.”

“i would recommend it. after fainting it’s likely that your blood sugar is low, and fruit juice is packed with natural sugars that will allow you to feel better almost immediately.”

“doctor’s orders, huh?” you joked, to which he cracked a smile again.

“i’m not exactly that kind of doctor. but yes, i do strongly advise it.”

so you took the juice box, and spencer walked you down the few steps from the office you’d been laying in toward the bullpen. suddenly you were filled with anxiety once again as the faces you had seen minutes ago holding inconvenienced stares now looked on with concern.

the man from before who was so clearly the leader of this operation approached, offering a hand to shake. “supervisory special agent aaron hotchner, i apologize for the misunderstanding.”

you winced away from him slightly, worried that any further mistake would result in you losing the position you had yet to start. “thank you, sir. i am so sorry for interrupting a meeting like that, and fainting. that wasn’t exactly the first impression i wanted.”

he had an easy smile, that of a reassuring father. “i can assure you that no punitive action will be taken, if that’s what you’re concerned about. if we knew you were coming today we would not have left graphic case evidence up on the screen.”

oh, thank god. you exhaled deeply, feeling the tightness in your chest subside. you stepped back toward spencer, whose gaze had never left you. “what should i be doing now? i was never informed of what my training would be, not to mention where my desk is.”

“linda’s out sick today, which is why we thought you weren’t coming until monday,” said the woman sat in the desk rightmost of you. her hair was pure black, with straight, blunt bangs that suited her well.

“we don’t exactly have training for you today without your predecessor here, so i thought you could shadow my agents to familiarize yourself with the office. and i’m happy to show you to your desk, but since you’ll mostly be seeing our faces daily, we should get introductions out of the way first,” agent hotchner said.

you glanced at spencer beside you almost unconsciously, in search of reassurance. despite knowing him for about three minutes, he was the closest thing you had to a friend or ally so far. and seeming to sense this, he shot you a smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes. you felt your anxiety melt a little, and you realized that everything was going to be okay.

—

by lunchtime, you had your things at your desk and nothing to do without a computer login or training. you remembered that hotchner had suggested shadowing someone, but the idea of asking one of the agents made your stomach churn. they sat only a dozen feet away from you, laughing and bantering as if they’d known each other all their lives. who were you to butt into their dynamic? so you sat twiddling your thumbs for the rest of the lunch hour, peeking at the group occasionally to confirm that you hadn’t spontaneously gained the confidence to approach.

spencer specifically appeared to be deep in thought once he got back to work. you thought that it would be best to shadow him if possible, given you were most familiar with the tall brunette, but you really had no business to interrupt his work. still, you worked up the courage to advance to his desk.

“would you like some more coffee, dr. reid? i could go get some for you, you seem pretty busy,” you offered in an attempt at nonchalance. but uncertainty and regret crept up quickly when you received no reply.

emily prentiss, the previously unnamed woman with dark hair, noticed the interaction. with a slight grin on her lips, she interjected. “don’t take it personally. he gets so into his case readings, it’s hard for him to pick up on anything else.”

“hey, pretty boy,” cooed derek morgan from another desk. “someone’s trying to talk to you.”

spencer lifted his head reluctantly, eyes following a moment later. he looked dazed, not quite focused on anything in particular. “sorry, what?”

“i noticed your coffee was almost empty, would you like some more?” you asked meakly. it took everything in you not to run and hide of embarrassment.

he finally registered the question, shaking his head fervently. “no, i couldn’t ask you to do that. i’m perfectly capable of refilling my own coffee, but while i do i could show you the kitchenette? it’s crucial to the operation of the office.”

and with a nod, the two of you headed to the tiny kitchen adjacent to the bullpen. you stood slightly out of the way as spencer placed his mug on the counter, refilling the drip coffee maker for a fresh batch. you watched him card his fingers through his hair, looking around casually.

“so, the kitchen is important why?” you inquired, head tilting slightly to emphasize your interest.

spencer finally met your eyes again, letting out a little breezy laugh. “oh, it’s not. i noticed that you were having trouble potentially asking one of us to show you around, so i thought this was an opportune moment.”

you flushed slightly at the confession, apparently caught red-handed in your effort. “wow, you’re pretty good at reading people. or was i just that transparent?”

“is that a joke?” his eyebrows knotted as he looked at you, no air of humour on his face.

you stared back, equally confused. “am i supposed to know that? do you have a particularly well known judgement of character?”

“well yes, you’re in the behavioural analysis unit.”

and with that, you were sure that you had damaged your ego and reputation in this job position irrevocably.

—

after a brief explanation of the lack of background information provided when accepting the job, spencer assured you that he wouldn’t tell the others. he expressed his surprise that the FBI hadn’t been as diligent as they usually are, and you had to agree.

“i mean, i told them that this was my first job after graduation. i was doing my field placement two months ago, and that was in a law firm!” you stifled a giggle, feeling at ease leaning against the kitchen counter with spencer taking occasional sips of his coffee.

“that’s astounding. they hired me young, but i’d argue that i was overqualified for the position,” he admitted. “you, however…”

you gasped in feigned offence, rolling your eyes. “hey, i learned a lot in that law office! i can photocopy anything you need me to, and schedule dry cleaning for same-day pickup.”

it had been well over a half hour at this point, with you and spencer getting gradually closer until your clothed elbow rubbed against his. no one else had come in, until mid-reply spencer was greeted by agent aaron hotchner himself, who happened to also need a fresh cup of coffee.

“reid, i see that you’ve taken it upon yourself to let our new team member shadow you. but maybe you should show her some places other than the coffee counter?” he suggested with a raised eyebrow.

spencer looked caught, eyes flitting from you to his boss. your boss too, you supposed. “of course. sorry hotch, we got a little caught up.”

“i can see that. as long as you get your files finished by end-of-day, it’s really none of my business.”

“yes, sir,” spencer yelped. he gestured rapidly for you to follow him, exiting the kitchen to return to his desk.

you watched him put his mug down and shuffle some papers around before his eyes lit up in recognition. “i actually do need you to photocopy this for me,” he admitted shyly.

“of course!” you replied, just before your smile dropped. “you actually never showed me where the copier is.”

spencer chuckled with you, getting up from his chair once again. “no problem, i’ll show you.”

and as the two of you began walking down the hallway together, the others laughed upon hearing, “by the way, would you like to go for dinner with me once we clock out? i have a lot more to tell you.”

derek grinned. “i didn’t know that kid had the balls.”

—

(hi guys!! thank you for all of the love on my first spencer post!! i’m having so much fun writing these! psa tho: as i said before, i’m a lesbian i just have a weird thing for this one particular fictional man- so if u follow me, pls expect woman-centred content mostly!!)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #molly’s!

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thatone-brightstar · 1 year

Text

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Bear meet Fox

Words: 5.2k

Summary: Out of everyone in the vast city of Chicago, Carmen was glad it was you who stumbled into his rundown restaurant.

a/n: I'm too in love with this man to not write about him, so I'm contributing to our shared obsession with my silly little ficcc.

Also reader is Latina in this and yes it's partially self indulgence.

You couldn't believe you were about to do it.

Not due to excitement but mostly dread, and a bit of self loathing, that the lowest point in your life had brought you here of all places in the city. Might as well call it point Nemo because there was no way you could get any further away.

Pulling your phone from the back pocket of your jeans, you kept your eyes still on the rundown building across the deserted street, afraid it would dissipate and take with it your only chance of employment in a 200 mile radius. The phone screen lit up with the last message from your brother a few days ago and you wanted to punch him square in the face at the way he worded his stupid attempt at “helping” you find a job.

‘So you stop moping around the house cuz its getting pathetic’

Read the text under a picture of a ‘HELP WANTED’ sign, poorly taped to the inside of a surprisingly clean window, stark contrast to the grimy brick that surrounded it. A second text had also been left on read, with a maps link to the location where you stood, balancing on your feet out of nerves. You contemplated your options, as if you had any; turn around, head home and lay in bed until you withered and died of misery. God, your brother was right, you were getting pathetic.

You took a very deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then blew it out into the cold surroundings. ‘You can do it. It’s just another interview, you've done those before. More in the past month than your whole life sure, but who cares? This is the good one.’ You tried psyching yourself up. It could always be worse, you remembered, though lately it seemed more true everyday.

You forced your feet to move from their petrified state and walked towards the building, made sure that the sign was the same one your brother sent, then stood with an outstretched hand about to pull the door open when a voice coming from the left side of the building called your attention.

“Yo, sweetheart! We open at noon!” A man wearing gray joggers and an over washed shirt stood with his head peeking against the corner of the building. If it weren’t for the apron tied around his waist, you’d assume he’s some stranger sticking his nose in other people’s business, but with the bags under his eyes and the cigarette hanging from his mouth, you recognized the trademark of a tired restaurant worker.

“I’m here for the help wanted ad?” You said more like a question, raising a manila folder and shaking it so he could see that you weren’t there for sandwiches, or whatever it was they sold.

“Why?” He asked skeptically, scanning you from head to toe and taking a drag from his cigarette without using his hands. Show off.

You couldn’t come up with an answer on the spot, out of nervousness and intimidation, so you chose to shrug. You could have said you needed the job or literally anything else, but that answer seemed to be enough for him. The guy took another drag then gestured with his head for you to follow him around the corner. With a doubtful turn to the glass door, you moved to the left and followed the man into the parking spot between buildings where, you hoped, another entrance to the restaurant would be waiting for you.

You moved slowly over the gravel, making your way deeper into the empty space. A breath you didn’t know you were holding left your lips at the sight of a long metal door opened ajar, with the man finishing his cig keeping it from closing. He made a circular impatient motion with his hand while staring at you and that was enough for you to quicken your pace towards him.

“Hurry up babe, we ain’t got all day” He said with a loud voice despite being less than three feet away. “C’mon, I’ll see if I can find my asshole cousin. He’s the one who put that stupid sign up anyway.”

You fully entered the building and were immediately welcomed by the familiar scent of roasted meats and sauteed vegetables, the buzz of old vent pipes and the scraping of metal pans against the burners slightly numbed the anxiety growing in your stomach. This was familiar, this you knew. Down to the Bachata beat playing somewhere inside from an overworked radio and the blinding white lights reflecting off the even whiter tiled walls.

The man seemed to have disappeared somewhere past the kitchen, leaving you stranded in the middle of the Steward station with nothing but a half assed ‘wait here’. You clutched your folder containing your resumé near your chest and tried to make yourself as small as it was possible in the already tiny space, so as to not interfere with anyone who were to pass by in a hurry. It felt like minutes had passed and the guy had not returned. You tried to keep yourself entertained by counting the stained steel pots hanging from the hooks above the sinks, then moved to count the beat up escoffier containers that rested on the rack in front of you. When that was done, you checked your surroundings in search of someone else to help you, as the asshole had been gone for some time and it didn’t seem like he’d be back soon.

About to give up hope and ready to push the exit door, you hear a loud ‘Corner!’ headed your way and turned just in time to see a mountain of pots and pans being carried to the sinks by a faceless body. His head was turned to the other side, probably doing his best to keep an eye on the path ahead. You tried to say something but the words were stuck in your throat, so instead you stepped back out of his way and waited until he dropped the cookware. The faceless person dropped everything inside with a loud bang, then rested his arms against the metal edge, sighed and let his head hang low. From your position, scooted by the door in silence, you waited expectantly for him to turn around so you could say something; maybe explaining why you’re there would be a good way to start. But it took him some time to move. All you saw is the flexing of strained muscle on his arms as he gripped the sink like a lifeline. The movement of his tensed back as he breathed under the thin white shirt he wore brought a warmth to your cheeks and you knew you’re starting to be creepy so you forced yourself to talk.

“Hi-” Is all you get to say before he jumped back startled, wide blue eyes with a wild expression and a hand clutching over his blue apron where his heart was.

“Jesus fuck! Don’t fuckin’ do that!” He shouted at you with a hand raking through his hair.

“Sorry!” You yelled back. Your heartbeat pounded in your throat and ears and the warmth from a few seconds ago had turned scorching hot over all your skin.

He leaned forward and rested his hands over his knees trying to calm his pulse, then chuckled lightly and regained his composure. “No no you’re good, I-uh I didn’t mean to yell like that but you scared the shit outta me.”

He passed his hand over his face then left it over his mouth, contemplating you for a solid minute. He looked over at you unsure of what to say as you stood holding your folder to your chest and balancing on your feet.

“Right… so'' He leaned against the sink. “Who are you?”

“Yeah sorry, I saw you were asking for help up front and wanted to see if it was still available.” You said pointing to where you assumed was front of house. In the small space, you couldn’t really make out the layout of the place. “Some asshole guy let me in but then left me here.”

“Fuckin’ Richie” He says under his breath. “Yeah, yeah it still is. You got any papers on you?”

You hand him the folder you had been clutching to your chest. He looked at you one last time then opened it to find your wrinkled resume inside. While he analyzed the information you peeked another look at him. Ashy blond hair framed a strong jaw and nose. He had a broad back and strong arms, likely from all the physical effort it took to work in a kitchen, and even though he took up some space, it seemed like he tried to shrink into himself. The pale skin on his arms was littered with designs that you couldn’t make out from the distance, but you could see the hyper pigmentation of a few scars.

“Oven?” You ask, pointing to a small angry red mark across his forearm.

“What? Oh fuuuck.” He said as he turned his arm. “That’s the first time I see it, honestly.”

You laughed lightly under your breath, before he turned to you with a small smile.

“C’mon.” He guided you out the Steward section and you assumed he’d take you to whoever was in charge of the place.

Your nerves had settled due to the familiar ambiance, as he conducted you through the different sections where a few cooks turned curiously, then settled by the expo that stood tall facing the small window opening into the dining area.

“Mind if we check it here? The office is a shit hole right now.” He looked down at you with expectant eyes.

You swallowed dryly, you weren’t expecting him to be the one in charge. Does that mean you were checking out your future boss? Fuck. You nodded, afraid to trust your own voice. He nodded back then looked at the worn out paper.

“You have a pretty cool resume.” He started. “You’ve been all over the place. Hostess, service, line cook. Private chef for two years, where was that?”

“Uhm, some rich folks up in Lincoln Park. Just dinner and meal prep.” You said as nonchalant as possible.

“Well listen, I don’t think I can pay you as well as they did.” He joked. “We’re not that big of a place and in all honesty, business’ a little tight right now.”

And there it was, the last rejection you were expecting. You looked down at your hands and did your best to calm the bile climbing up your throat.

“But we could really use the help, so maybe I can offer you to help out up front and once we’re back on our feet, you can move back here. The pay’s not the best and the hours are crazy long but it’s just in the meantime.” He stayed quiet waiting for an answer.

Your head snapped up to look at him after the first half, still surprised it wasn’t a rejection. You didn’t notice you had been quietly staring until he raised his brows expectantly.

“Wait, so that means I’m hired?” You questioned, still cautious.

“Yeah, you think you can start today?”

“Yes, yes thank you so much!” You cleared your throat to hide the too obvious excitement. “Yeah, I’ll just need a place to drop off my things.”

“Great, well we gave Sydney our last empty locker, but you can keep your bag in the office. It’s pretty safe.” He pointed to a closet sized door to the left and asked you to follow him while he explained that family was served before opening and that he’d introduce everyone then.

After dropping your bag inside the dimly lit room, that was indeed a shit hole, he guided you back to the kitchen, then through a white door that pushed into the front of house. You saw the asshole leaning against the long counter separated from the tables, telling a very engaging story to a shorter man in a backwards cap who appeared to just want to finish fixing a broken tap. When the door slammed behind you, they both turned towards you and the chef, who you had yet to know the name of. The taller of the two’s eyes grew in realization and his hand flew to his mouth in a fist to try and hide his laugh.

“Shiiit, my bad doll. I swear I went lookin’ for ‘em but fuckin’ Fak here couldn’t keep his pipe shut and started talking!” He said, using the back of his other hand to slap at the chest of the other man who turned offended to him.

“I didn’t say shit! You came running to me talkin’ about the pretty girl you had in the bac-”

“Both of you shut the fuck up and listen” The man behind you interrupted impatient, he placed his hand lightly on your lower back and pushed you further into the room. The placement of his hand did nothing to subside the growing shade of pink in your cheeks from the comment. “This is… shit sorry, I never asked your name.” He turned to you, hand still on your back.

A quiet ‘it’s okay’ left your lips and you introduced yourself to the group of men. The chef repeated your name to himself as a way of memorizing it, then spoke back to the group.

“Richie, she’ll be helping you up front.”

“Fuck you, I’m not babysitting!” He turns to you. “No offense sweetheart, but this,” He said signaling the bar, “is a one man symphony, okay? I can’t have you screwing with my system.”

You did your best not to roll your eyes at him, because of course you expected him to be defensive about it. Enough experience in the service industry had shown you that older people tended to be quite resistant towards change, especially if the change came in the form of barely 5’3 and female. Sure you were young, you had barely graduated culinary school two years ago during the pandemic, but you had been working since your third year so you were more than familiar with the business.

“Well you have a shitty system.” Said Fak under his breath as he finished unscrewing something.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Richie said, offended.

“I’m just saying man, you could use the help. I saw you jump at a customer the other day cause he was asking for ketchup.”

“Cause only idiots ask for ketchup with a sandwich!” He threw his hands in the air and turned his back to Fak.

“He was ten!” He shouted back.

“Look, I don’t have time to argue! Richie, you imbecile, take the help cause you need it and stop jumping on people before you catch a case, all right?!” He turned to you, rubbed your back with his hand still there and smiled slightly. “You’ll do great.” He says finally before turning to Richie and pointing up at him while walking back. “Don’t fuckin’ scare her off.”

And he was gone out the door. Richie made a gesture with both his hands pushing from under his chin to where the chef had disappeared then turned to you. He stayed silent, one hand on the bar and another on his hips as he stared at you in intimidation. You held his gaze, not cowarring now that you knew he wasn’t going to murder you. An ‘Aha!’ from Fak brought him back and he slapped his hand on the bar.

“Alright c'mon. I’m gonna need you to organize back here while I sweep around the tables. We open at 12 so we got enough time. Got it? ” He finished.

You salute with your right hand, rolled up your sleeves and walked behind the bar to start working on the task. “Yes, chef.” You mumbled out of habit.

“Nah, don’t fuckin’ start with that ‘chef’ thing with me, I’m already up to my balls with Carmy sayin’ it all the time.” He replied exasperated.

“Fine. Yes, asshole. Whatever.” You respond, rolling your eyes and starting to take things out from the fridge at the bottom of the counter.

You heard a snicker from Fak a few feet away, followed by a smacking sound and an ‘Ow! Fuck you!’ before Richie’s sneakers squeaked away into the other room. What you didn’t see was the small smirk on his face as he started walking away. You had balls, he’d give you that.

You powered through the absolute rat’s nest the bottom of the counter was. An empty jar of pickles, two moldy sausages and a single slab of cheese without the wrapper were only a couple of things you found while trying to clean the mess. You took anything useless and dumped it into a black trash bag Fak was nice enough to get you, before showing you where they kept all the cleaning supplies so you weren’t in the dark. It took you two trips to the supply shelf, a sponge, a rag and half a bottle of dish soap to ultimately get rid of the stale grease that gave the impression to have been there since the opening of the place. Once you were satisfied with the way you organized the station, you moved to scrub the top of all the counters and even give a little swipe with the rag on all the stools.

You had baby hairs sticking to your forehead and cheeks by the time you were done, even your jacket had been discarded and thrown under the now clean bar, but a satisfied smile rested on your face despite all that. God, you really missed working. You finally took some time to admire all the framed pictures littering the surrounding walls. Most were of sports players you weren’t familiar with; one, because you really weren’t a fan of any sport, and two, because the pictures looked so old that most of the specific features had been erased from too much exposure to the sun. There were also football jerseys hanging by a corner near the unlit menu and a big ‘Beef Deli’ sign on the wall behind you. You saw a couple cooks moving around behind the window under the sign and a little knot formed in your stomach at the thought of having to introduce yourself in a while.

You checked your wristwatch on your left hand while you wiped the sweat from your forehead with your right, hoping you still had some time to kill. But before you could look down, a voice by the door called your name. You looked up to see the chef, Carmy you had learned his name was, looking at you with a small smile.

“Front of house looks good, chef.” He complemented, clear blue eyes scanning the counters as he leaned against the door, hands playing with a spoon.

You took a deep breath and smiled back, holding onto your wrists behind your back, “Thanks, chef. I-uhm hope you don’t mind that I took some Fabuloso to wipe down the counter by the window. It smelled like shit.” You finish, pointing at the purple liquid in the spray bottle beside you.

“Yeah, no that’s fine.” He answers, a small laugh stuck in his throat. “But that was actually Tina’s so don’t let her see you used it.”

Your mouth opened slightly as your eyes grew, and you were afraid to ask how bad it would be if she found out. He straightened up with a smirk and tapped his spoon twice on the metal counter before signaling for you to follow him with his head.

“C’mon, family’s up.”

You turned on your heel to follow him into the other room, but jogged back, jumped over the counter high enough to slap the spray bottle with sufficient force for it to fall and roll under the counter. You did not know Tina, but you were sure as hell you also didn’t want to get your shit rocked on your first day on the job.

You tried tidying up your hair back into a less messy ponytail and combed all the stray baby hairs before entering the adjacent room where the other workers were getting ready for family. Some faces stared from their seats, questioning the presence of the stranger invading their space. A few you had met on the rush while taking the garbage bags out or crossing the kitchen to the supply shelf. Marcus, the pastry chef, waved with a simple smile and pointed to an empty space beside him. The simple action brought a wave of relief over your shoulders as you advanced towards him, hands interlocked in nerves. You mumbled a ‘Thanks.’ and served yourself a glass of water from the pitcher in front of you.

Once everyone was sitting with a container of food in front, the chef introduced you to the table and let everyone know you’d be helping out up front with the service and that if they had any questions, they could ask you directly. The first one to jump at the opportunity was an older man with dark skin, asking you in a thick accent if you were related to Tina. There was a burst of laughter around the table, but he seemed to be serious about his question.

“Ebra, not all latinos are related you racist fucker.” Responded a small woman sitting beside him with a slap to his arm. Okay, so that’s Tina, you thought. “That’s like me saying you and Marcus are related cause you’re both black.” She finished pointing at the tall man sitting beside you.

“We are related.” Ebra responded with a teasing smile, staring at Marcus and you immediately knew where this was going. “I am his grandfather- his mom called me daddy last night!”

Another roar of laughter shattered along the table and you had to stick a spoonful of rice in your mouth to hide your smile. You heard a ‘C’mon man, that’s not right.’ from Marcus as he shook his head, but the creeping grin let you know that it was all in fun. The conversation flowed between comments on the food and stories they all recounted, glad to have a fresh pair of ears to hear them.

One of Richie’s was from a few weeks ago, when they had set up a video game tournament at the restaurant to make some extra cash and the nerds in line had gone so bat shit crazy, that one punched Carmy on the jaw and he had to go out and ‘beat their asses into shape’. You slowly swallowed the bite you had taken and stared at Richie sitting at the end by Carmy.

“Was he dressed like a giant carrot… By any chance?” You ask mortified.

“No shit! You know the fucker?!” He yelled, slamming his hands on the table. Everyone turned to you like you were holding a new piece to a worthy puzzle.

You covered your face with your hands then crossed them in front of your chin. “Yeah… I think that fucker’s my 19 year old brother.” You affirmed scrunching your face in disgust. Fuckin’ Joshua.

The table went wild with jokes about how Carmy had almost gotten knocked out by a teen and through the hysterics you could still make out Richie’s voice saying “Oh my god, sweetheart. Thank you, really. You just made my WEEK!” All you could do was pick around your container as heat crept up your neck.

You peered up through your lashes at Carmen sitting with a mortifying look and mouthed a heartfelt ‘Sorry’ for what felt like the tenth time that day. He was leaning back with his arms crossed, smiled with an ‘it’s okay’ and let everyone take a jab with their jokes. You looked back down to your food and did your best to drown out the teasing noises from everyone, but were unaware of how the chef raised his brows and swallowed dryly with his gaze still on you.

After minutes of teasing, everyone picked up their empty dishes and separated into their areas. You stayed in the dining room wiping down the tables that were left to clean before opening service and a couple of ideas came to mind on how you could decorate them to reduce the depressing feeling. At least for now, napkins and holders would do, the rest would have to wait. You power walked to the front where you remembered seeing a packet that looked to be from napkins, but once you reached inside all you found were a bunch of wrinkled brown pieces of paper.

“Richie!” You yelled from your crouched position.

“Yo!” He yelled back, head popping above you over the counter.

“I can’t seem to find any napkins.” You spoke while still searching hopefully in the space.

“You’re holdin’ em.” He stated, matter-of-factly.

You stand fully and shake the supposed napkins in front of you. “Richie, these are stained and say Starbucks on em!”

His grin grew wide on his face as he walked back with extended arms. “Welcome to The Beef, kid!” He laughed, then leaned down to unlock the glass door where you could already see some people forming a line.

You quickly dropped the napkins, grabbed the blue half apron you had been given and tied it around your waist as fast as possible. Fuck, fuck, fuck. A fuckin’ heads up would’ve been nice, you thought as you plastered on a soft smile for the clients.

“Alright, fuckos! We’re open!” He shouted into the restaurant and wiggled his brows towards you. “Goodluck.”

Fuck.

*****

He was worried for you for the first fifteen minutes after opening. Afraid you’d see the mess you had stumbled upon or that his idiot cousin would say something that would have you grabbing your bag and leaving without as much as a goodbye. He wouldn’t blame you, hell, he would’ve even done the same if his name wasn’t in the lease now instead of his brother’s.

He stopped worrying however, when he saw the way you managed yourself around the floor and customers. Empty plates were picked up with ease and replaced with warm ones that spent less than five minutes on the counter, the orders were taken within minutes and served with a kind smile. He was even surprised when you walked away from the other side of the expo with three plated sandwiches balancing in one hand and a forth plate in the other.

“Can you manage, chef?” He even asked when he saw you trying to find the perfect space between your fingers that could balance the plate, your lip caught in concentration.

You looked at him with your head still bowed and a breathy smile. “Yeah, thanks.” Then turned your back to deliver the dishes.

It wasn’t his intention for his gaze to linger longer than it did as your hips swayed naturally with every step, or when despite the hectic sound of the kitchen he could still hear you laugh politely at a joke from one of their regulars. But it was only until Syd elbowed him in the side that he noticed he was being a bit creepy. Jesus, it’s like your 14 again, he thought.

“You’re worried Richie’s gonna scare her off but you’re the one giving me the creeps with all the staring.” She said after reading the printed ticket for another order.

“Heard, chef.” Was all he said, cleared his throat and went back to work, doing his best not to look up every time you walked to receive a new order.

It was only when the lunch rush died down and he was in desperate need of a cigarette, that he saw you sitting down with your head resting against the cold bricks of the adjacent building and eyes closed peacefully. He didn’t want to bother you, but he also didn’t want to waste the opportunity of telling you how well you had done in the first half of the day. Besides, the heavy door behind him slammed closed and startled you slightly, so there was no going back now.

“Hey.” You smiled softly, stretching your arms above your head and your legs straight forward, then relaxed altogether.

“You smoke?” Carmy asked, offering you a cig as he sat on the empty crate a few feet away from you, elbows resting on his knees.

You shook your head no, but thanked him anyway. “I quit a few months ago.” You said just as he flicked his lighter on and the tip grew bright orange.

“Shit, sorry. If it bothers you I can turn it off.” He offered. He wanted to say ‘I can go somewhere else’ but he didn’t want to give you the idea that he didn’t wanna be there.

You shook your head no again still smiling and pulled one of your legs to your chest, turning to him. “So…” You asked curious. “How’d I do for my first half?”

Carmy chuckled lightly as he exhaled smoke into the air. He turned to you from his crouched position and for the fifth time that day, he took a good look at your face. Jesus fuck, how could someone as beautiful as you end up in his dump of all places? Despite your overworked expression and a few small bags beneath your eyes, he was sure he had never seen anyone’s face glow with such brightness as yours did now. His eyes danced around your face, taking in every single freckle he could before he tore them away after what to him felt like an eternity of staring- no- admiring your features.

“You did way better than I expected. Truly, chef. Thank you.” He whispered and, despite the noisy Chicago surroundings, you heard every word.

Your smile beamed brighter for what felt like the first time in months and the fist that had been constricting your heart for a while now seemed to give you some much needed space to breathe.

Carmy finished his cigarette in comfortable silence, now laying back against the cold brick wall that helped ease the rising temperature in his body, while you played with the aquamarine ring on your pointer finger that reminded you too much of the chef’s specific shade of blue eyes.

“What’s Carmy short for?” You asked all of a sudden, pulling him out of his internal thoughts.

It took him a couple of seconds to process the question, then smiled down to the gravel under his feet. “Uhm- it’s short for Carmen. It’s a family name. " He responded.

“Oh.” Was all you said, nodding your head. “It's nice. I have a cousin named Carmen.” You continue with a smile on your lips.

“Yeah?” He asked, turning down towards you, only to see you stand up and clean off the dust from the back of your black jeans and readjust the apron around your waist.

You stood with your hands on your hips and stared down at him for another second before smiling and making your way to the tall door. “Yeah, but she’s a girl.” You reply without turning back and push your way into the restaurant, leaving the chef with a snickering grin and a lightheaded feeling he wished wasn’t just from the nicotine.

Chapter 2.

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morganski-19 · 29 days

Text

The One with the Child

Robin and Nancy walk into the café after a long day of work. Stopping when they see Jonathan sitting on the couch reading a book with a toddler sitting next to him, playing with a toy. They share a confused look before walking around the couch.

“Hey Jon,” Nancy leads.

Jonathan looks up from his book. “Oh, hey guys. How was work?”

“Uh, fine,” Nancy says, still confused. “Just one, tiny, quick question.”

“Whose child is that?” Robin points at the toddler looking up at them with big eyes.

“Oh, right, this is Argyle’s niece, Stella. He’s in the bathroom, so I’m watching her for a minute.”

Robin flops on the armchair. “Oh, thank God. I thought that was just a random kid.”

Jonathan gives her a weird look. “Did you think I just stole a child? What gave you the impression that I would do that?”

Robin shrugs. “Someone could have just left the child here. You don’t know. That happens. You would be surprised how many times Steve has had to stay afterschool to sit with a kid whose parent forgot to come pick them up.”

“To be fair, my mom did that a few times when I was a kid.” Nancy pulls one of the other chairs closer. “Only a few times though.”

“My mom did that too. Happens when you’re a single mom.”

Argyle comes back from the bathroom, hair braided down his back. “Hey dudes. You meet Stella?” He sits down on the couch, Stella grabbing his arm and hiding behind it. “She’s a bit shy.”

“Robin thought I stole her.”

Robin makes a high-pitched noise. “I did not. I thought you were picked by a lazy parent to be entrusted with their child. That is far different than stealing.”

“Still doesn’t make it any better.”

Robin rolls her eyes, getting up to go order a coffee at the bar.

“Which sister is Stella’s mom?” Nancy asks, trying to change the conversation.

Argyle tries to get Stella to loosen her grip on his arm but fails. “Julia. She has a job interview in the city today so I’m watching her.”

“And you brought her here?” Robin sits back down with her coffee.

“Hey, this is a family friendly establishment until seven and by then she will be back with her mom. She should be done soon to come pick her up.”

Eddie walks into the café, waving as he orders a coffee at the bar. Doing a double take when he sits down, eyes wide.

“I know I’ve only known you guys for like a year but none of you had a secret kid, right?”

“No, this is my sister’s kid. I’m watching her for a few hours.”

Eddie relaxes in his seat. “Oh, thank God. I could not have dealt with that twice in one week.”

Nancy perks up. “Twice?”

“Yeah, remember my buddy Jeff from high school. Apparently, him and his girl are expecting. Sent me into a whole crisis.”

“Oh, that’s why you were cleaning your room a few days ago.”

“I’m offended that’s why you think I was cleaning, but you’re correct.”

“Why were you having a crisis?” Robin asks over her coffee. “It’s not like we’re not at an age where people we know start having kids.”

Eddie makes a large gesture. “That’s why I was having a crisis. It was the first one of my friends that is taking that next step in life. While I’m still stuck between two jobs, not in a relationship, and a giant fucking mess. Sorry,” he apologizes to Argyle.

“She’s two, she doesn’t know what that word means,” Argyle assures.

Steve comes into the café and sits on the chair next to Eddie. Covering his face in his hands. “If I see another first grader, it’ll be too soon.”

“Bad day.” Robin gives him a sympathetic look.

Steve nods. “Three kids had to be sent to the nurse because they were sick. Three, like visibly sick. They shouldn’t have even been sent in at all. And then the rest were just on edge and didn’t want to settle down after recess. And.” He finally spots Stella on the couch. “One of your sister’s kids?”

Argyle nods. “Yeah. Her mom should be here soon, so don’t worry.”

“I said first graders for a reason. They are monsters. What’s her name?”

“Stella. Do you want to say hi?” he asks her. Stella gives Steve a small wave.

Steve melts a little bit. “You have just made my whole day, Stella.”

A woman who looks a little like Argyle walks into the café. Argyle notices her and stands, picking up Stella from the couch. “Hey, Jules. How was the interview?”

“Pretty good. Thanks for watching her again, I appreciate it.” She takes Stella out of Argyle’s arms. “Did you have a good time with Uncle Argyle?” Stella nods into her mother’s shoulder. “Hope she wasn’t too much trouble.”

Argyle shakes his head. “Not at all. Right Jon?”

“Yeah, not at all.”

Julia nods, finally realizing the rest of the group.

“Oh right, Julie, these are my friends. You’ve met some of them. Dudes, this is my sister Julia.”

The group gives a mix of greetings before going back to separate conversations. Julia says hello back before Argyle walks her out of the café.

“It was seriously no trouble watching her, it was nice to see her. And you.”

“I know. Wish I could stay more, but we got to get back.”

“If you need a place to stay, you can chill at our place. I’ll take the couch so you can have a bed.”

Julia shakes her head. “That sweet but I didn’t pack an overnight bag. If we leave now, we might make it before the next rush hour. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you and Jon.”

“Nonsense. You know you’re always welcome at our place.”

“When are you two finally going to cut the crap and get together already. The whole family’s been waiting for it.”

Argyle groans. “Tell me there’s not a betting pool.”

“You already know the answer to that.”

“Jesus. I’m not sure we even ever will. He’s like the first best friend I’ve ever had, I don’t want to lose him over some stupid feelings.”

Stella coos, grabbing at her mom’s hair. “We should go before she starts getting fussy. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you will. You might not believe me, but there’s more hope than you think there is. From an outsider’s perspective.”

“So, I can blame you when everything goes up in flames. Nice.” Julie gently slaps his arm. “Call me when you get back, alright.”

“I will. Wave goodbye to Uncle Argyle, Stella.”

“Bye, bye,” Steve whispers with a small wave.

Argyle smiles. “Bye, Stella. Nice seeing you both.”

They walk down the street to where Julia parked as Argyle returns to the café.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1

#morgan's friends au #stranger things #stranger things au #friends au #argyle stranger things #jonathan byers #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #eddie munson #pre relationship #jargyle #steddie #ronance #argyle has siblings #i believe that he would #even though we know next to nothing about him in cannon #but he seems like the guy who has a bunch of siblings #i don't know why

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m1ssunderstanding · 2 months

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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.1

So disclaimer: I took screenshots instead of photographing my screen this time, but the quality of footage is a thousand times worse so the images are still mostly shit. But anyway, here we go :)

We're going to have to keep a tally on how many times they refer to their relationship in romantic terms. Less than a minute in, Paul has used the description, “great love affair.”

And John's right on his heels with “the sexual equivalent of . . . People in love.” So there's 2 already. Oh boy.

That opening montage of John and Paul just living for the light in each other's eyes should actually be the official music video for “I wanna hold your hand.”

Also I wonder how many songs they have about hiding. Someone's got to have a list somewhere right?

I adore the absolute lack of reaction to John manhandling Paul.

And then This Look. He's in love with him, ladies and gentlemen.

I remember seeing somewhere that this footage was literally right after they'd finished “she loves you.” Which was pretty recently after Bob Wooler, which was right after Barcelona. And if you're like me and you think that song is secretly about their relationship? If Paul's just been singing “she said you hurt her so, she almost lost her mind, but now she says she knows you're not the hurting kind. She said she loves you” at you, after all of that? Of course John's acting like a fucking puppy dog.

Poor George tally number 1

Excuse me??? John wants to live in the Beatle apartment instead of with his actual literal wife until Paul decides to move in with his girlfriend? What? He's so insane. Cynthia, you're lucky Paul's a fucking social climber.

I think it's indicative of two things that Paul said “screw secret girlfriends” while John happily went along with secret wives. One: different levels of security in masculinity (John doesn't have gay eyebrows etc) and two: different relationships. Jane and Paul's relationship was a smart career move for both of them and I think, being upper-class, and having her own career, and not being a mother, Jane was in more of a position to have a say.

Every time I watch that footage of Ken Dodd asking about their parents I physically cringe. Poor poor babies. Do your research you idiot! I don't think that ever happened again. I wonder if Brian made sure of that.

Paul literally talks like such a husband here. “We've thought about it, and probably the thing that John and I will do . . .”

Obsessed with Paul shouldering himself between George and John after George's little joke shove. It's so protective and yet so subtle. Exactly the same strong posture and easy smile as when he stepped between John and that interviewer during the Jesus scandal.

Poor George tally number 2 (you can't quite tell from the pic but John is shoving him out of the way because how dare he put his suitcase by Paul's?! That's John's suitcase's spot!!)

All the Beatles were cuddly with each other. It's one of the cutest bits about them, the puppies in a basket aspect. But I think we'll need a “noticable spacing difference” tally for this rewatch, too, and here's the first.

Paul wearing John's hat for attention and it fully and completely doing the job? They're so embarrassing!

I actually love that John's imitation of his upper-class Scottish family (which Paul can't do) is actually much more convincing than his broad Liverpudlian (which Paul nails in two variations, one based off his own family) I'm obsessed with the class dynamics between them.

Poor George tally three. He shares this one with Ringo. That moment when Paul's pretending to interview them about their purple hearts and cuts them both off with, “thank you. Mi-mister Lennon,” and John and Paul proceed to completely forget the other two exist for who knows how long – certainly longer than the videographer was willing to record.

I find John sliding into Paul's raspy “tiiight yeeeah” with his very turned on “mmmMM it's been a hard” extremely suggestive. I'm sorry but I do.

It's like he thinks if he looks away for too long he's going to disappear or something. Which. Now that I said that. Yeah. That is what it is. Poor separation-issues baby.

Ringo: Paul, you wrote a beautiful song and you sing it great. John: yeah and you're SEXY! Let's not forget that, everyone.

Am I crazy to obsess over every little musical similarity in their songs? Yes. Can I help it? No. The little “oh-oh ohoho” in the If I Fell demo is exactly the same as in Imagine and (frothing and writhing) it means something I can feel it! I just have no idea what.

I also find the lyric change from “i hope that she won't cry” to “i hope that she will cry” extremely interesting. There's always a heterosexual explanation. Trust me, the straights are the Simone Biles of mental gymnastics. But while the published lyric can be read as a man bitter toward his ex girlfriend hoping to hurt her by flaunting his new relationship, the demo version is trickier. Could it be that he doesn't want to hurt his wife's feelings by letting her know he's in love with someone else? But who else could John Lennon possibly have been in love with at the time?

“Too too much in love. Woah, too too much in love with you.” My heart

#I'm sad because I really wanted to make a post about y'all's excellent tags on get back especially some that were such good points but I got #So if you want more discussion on those get back posts or if you want to laugh check out the tags on them #I think I'll just highlight and comment on tags as we go with ULM #ringo starr #george harrison #ulm #understanding lennon mccartney #mclennon #the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon

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crying-wolves · 8 months

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🪻 ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴀᴛʀᴇ ᴇᴍᴘʟᴏʏᴇᴇ!ᴀʙʙʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ 🪻

cw: 18+ MDNI!!! little bit of richgirl!abby, anxious!abby, little bit of loser!abby but i’ll let you be the judge of that, alt!reader, reader w/ tattoos + piercings, reader doesn’t care about their job, abby and reader are, like, 18 - 20, mostly fluff, petty theft, minor drug use (abby and reader get a teensy bit high), nsfw under the cut!

a/n: this is ENTIRELY self-indulgent cause i work at the movies and i think i would've liked my job better if Abby was there with me :) thank u so much for reading i love u so much i hope u enjoy <3

wc: 1.3k (a lot longer than i was expecting pls forgive me)

not proofread! im so eepy

dividers by @cafekitsune !

🪻movie theater employee!abby whose family is, as she likes to put it, ‘relatively well off’, so she’s never had to get a summer job before…

…but when her father emails her an application from their local theater, going on and on and on about how she could manage to learn a thing or two about responsibility and time management and a hundred other things she’s apparently lacking in, she doesn’t see any other option but to piece together a meager resume and send it in.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who gets a response back almost immediately, because they’re just that desperate for new hires.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who shows up to her interview the next week in pressed black dress slacks and a perfectly ironed blue button-up, only to be met with the hiring manager’s tattered black jeans and stained work shirt.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s nervous as fuck during the interview and thinks that she’s taking too long to answer simple questions and tripping over her words, but the manager hires her on the spot, in like, 10 minutes.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who calls her dad on the ride back home to tell him the good news, is met with balloons that say ‘congrats!’ in big sparkly letters on the front and her favorite take-out when she steps through the front door.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who arrives on her first day on the job 20 minutes early. Spotless, bustling with excitement, and so, so unprepared to deal with all that’ll happen in the day.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who is introduced to you, after you arrive 10 minutes late, fruity energy drink in hand and sunglasses still hanging on the tip of your nose as your new trainee.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who initially thinks she’ll evaporate in the stuffy heat behind the concessions counter, suddenly feels an icy-cool wave move through her body when you shoot her a lopsided smile.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who can hardly hear a word you say as you explain what all the buttons on the register screen do…

…‘cause she’s too focused on the way your work pants cling to your thighs and flare out at the bottom. on the pretty tattoos sneaking up and down your right arm. on the shiny lip ring that a part of her strangely wants to lick at–

🪻movie theater employee!abby who squeaks out a “yep, yeah! uh, got it!” when you ask her if she has any questions.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who definitely does not got it. Not one fuckin’ bit.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who fucks up a whole lot, at first, and manages to oversalt a batch of popcorn, stock too much of the same candy, overcharge 3 separate customers, spill a strawberry soda all over the counter, get scolded by 2 old men, and burn herself on the hotdog grill.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who smells like butter and exhaustion by the end of her 4 hour shift, but brightens up when you tap a star-shaped sticker onto her shirt and mumble out an amused “see you tomorrow, trainee.”

🪻movie theater employee!abby who realizes she has to do this all tomorrow again and lets out a shaky sigh on the way back to her car

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s slowly getting the hang of it after a few weeks at the theater…

…getting compliments from customers, multitasking between different orders, knowing the back room as well as she does the flavors of the drinks you silently sip during your shifts.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s a little enthralled by you, even if you don’t really notice it.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s too afraid to ask for your number, so scours instagram for your contact instead.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who throws her phone across her bedroom when you finally follow her back one night.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who super smoothly asks you when you’re working so she can try to arrive at her shifts when you go on break.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who freezes up when you invite her over to the park bench in front of the theater and offer her some cajun fries and a hit from your cart.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who takes you up on both offers, because she’s starving and she wants you to think she’s cool.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who takes a bigger hit than you were expecting and is a little confused when you giggle at her sudden coughing.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who spends the next 7 hours of her shift trying to act normal, but sees you trying not to bust out laughing in the corner of her eye every few minutes.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who gets a lot closer to you after that…

…who watches you undercharge a frazzled mother on her kid’s birthday, and doesn’t say anything to the supervisor. who sees you swipe a few chocolate bars from the candy cart to give to a group of kids in the arcade. who is certain of your favorite slushie flavor because your lips are always some different color everytime you come back from your too-long bathroom breaks.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who argues about which book-to-movie adaptation is the absolute best when the day’s going by slowly.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who sneaks into different showrooms where the movie has already been playing for a while with you so you guys can guess what’s happened in the plot before.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who hides with you in the stockroom to take a break from the yelling customers and screaming kids every once in a while.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who traces the outlines of your tattoos, all heart-eyed while she’s listening to you talk about the new superhero movie that just came out a week ago.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who places a hand at the small of your back when she has to squeeze by you to grab a bucket of popcorn for a customer.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who gets a little green with jealousy when a customer compliments your piercings or makes a joke that really isn’t that funny to begin with, but you laugh anyways cause you’re required to be cordial with them.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s so stupidly thrilled when you kiss her after a rough closing shift and can hardly breath when she climbs into her car to drive herself home.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who is so very happy that her dad convinced her to get this stupid job in the first place.

SMUT UNDER THE CUT ! 18+ MDNI!

🪻movie theater employee!abby who lets you eat her out in the tiny bathroom stall in the women’s room on nights when the theater is dead…

…your left hand squeezing at her tits, your right stretching her left leg over your shoulder. She looks down at you, panting, shuddering, trying and failing to conceal the little huffs and content sighs that fall from her lips every time your tongue swipes against a particularly sensitive spot.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who makes out with you in the backseat of her car when your breaks coincide, and whines in pleasure as you grind your clothed cunt against her covered thigh.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who can feel her hand start to shake and her throat go dry as she scurries to the back when you call her from your bedroom, voice all pitched-up and needy, while on your day off. Words strained and quickening wet sounds coming from your background.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who almost gasps when you two are the only ones working the concessions counter and she feels your hand slide from her lower back to squeeze her ass.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who’s obsessed with the way you watch her expressions as you slowly finger her in the empty break room.

🪻movie theater employee!abby who hates that she won’t see you until next summer, but has a million different secret pictures and texts from you that she has saved in a locked file on her phone to get her through the year <3

#abby anderson tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fluff #abby x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson fic #abby anderson headcanons

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hamiltonaf · 8 months

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Hi! I’m so excited you’ve open your requests, can I ask one with Lewis where you work with Toto and are like his little girl, so you get along and are close.

You’ve been secretly in love with him for a while so you try to help and been there for him now that Merc is struggling with the car, so after one race weekend like this one (😪) you try to confort him but he takes his anger on you.

The following week at the factory you’re distant and he starts to miss you…

The end is on you.

Thanks 🙌🏾❤️

Confession | Lewis Hamilton

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Slight angst but fluff

A/N: Hi loves ! Slowly recovering from being ill for over a week so bare with me. Thanks anon for requesting. Hope you babes enjoy. Requests are still open .xx

The Monza race weekend was here… is it hypocritical of me to say it’s one of my favourites if I’m working for Mercedes ? You can’t deny that the vibe and energy of tifosi doesn’t hype you up even if you’re not a fan of Ferrari.

I couldn’t wait to start posting content for the weekend, I mean it is my job anyway - social media admin. It’s a fun job, not gonna lie. I think it’s quite evident that I spend most of my time posting about Lewis’s paddock outfits than anything Mercedes related. For starters, it’s valid to post Lewis because he’s obviously part of the team and secondly, who isn’t waiting to see the Sir Lewis Hamilton fashion week every race weekend ? Am I right..

I think trying to hide my crush or love should I say for Lewis isn’t working considering that some fans have even commented that it’s ‘quite obvious that admin has a soft spot for Lew’. I’m really exposing myself on main. As extroverted as I am, I can’t help but get shy and quite around Lewis, still bold enough to compliment his outfits everyday on race weekends - if I don’t comment, it’s obvious that something is wrong.

I’d like to think that Lewis and I are somewhat best friends considering we spend more time off-track than on-track. However, I’m starting to re-think that seeing how he’s keeping his distance from me. I eventually just had to work up a nerve to just march over to him and ask him what’s wrong. He finished his interviews and he came back into the hospitality. I approached him with a soft smile, “Hey, are you okay ?” I asked softly. “I’m fine” he abruptly said and brushed my shoulder with his as he walked past. I followed behind him and waited till we were in the hallway to speak up again. “I know something is on your mind. You know you can talk to me Lew, I’m always here for you” I said softly.

“(Y/N) I really couldn’t care to talk to you right now ! Can you just leave me alone ?” He said harshly. Thank god no one was around because I probably would’ve died of embarrassment. My smile fell and I felt a pain in my chest. “Sorry” I said lowly and walked away in the opposite direction.

I avoided him for the rest of the day as he asked. This was the first time he ever raised his voice at me and I was quite hurt to say the least. Usually post-race we’d meet up and go out for dinner or just spend the evening talking in either one of our rooms. I didn’t bother waiting for him after I stuck around for the team briefing, I went straight to the hotel and I was ready to go back to England. So much for thinking we could celebrate him racing for 2 more years.

Luckily I didn’t have to change my flight since I was already scheduled to leave for my flight back home at 8PM. Once I was back home and to myself, I noticed Lewis had posted on his Instagram. Low-key saddened to not receive a message from him yet. I guess it’s a sign I need to get out of my deluded space and get over him.

At a time like this not gonna lie that I hated my job because so much for trying to get over Lewis, posting about him on the teams social media is part of the job.

It’s Wednesday and we have a team meeting at the factory. I really wish I could sit this one out but unfortunately I can’t. I smiled at all the familiar faces as I clocked in and was so relieved to see Toto. “Ahh (Y/N) ! I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages, you’ve been distant lately” he said as he pulled me in for a hug. “Toto, it’s only been 3 days since the race” I reminded him. “I know, but usually you’re always around after the team briefing on Sundays and even on off days, I hear from you. Everything okay ?” He asked concerned as he had an arm around my shoulder and lead the way.

“Oh yeah everything’s fine, the travelling and the energy from Monza just drained me this weekend. I just needed to de-stress these past few days” I sighed. “Of course, I suggest maybe taking an early holiday to Singapore” he suggested. “Sounds good to me, why don’t you and Susie join me ?” “I’ll let her know and get back to you on that” he smiled as he pats my back. Almost as if on cue, Lewis approached us. “You finally made it” Toto joked. “Sorry I’m late, uncle duties” he shrugged.

I felt so uncomfortable, I wish I could’ve been swallowed up into a hole. “No worries, (Y/N) kept me company” he smiled at me. I glanced up at Toto before stealing a glance at Lewis who was already looking at me with a soft smile.

“Oh, would you look at that, George is here ! Let me just go greet him” I excused myself and walked over to George. “Hey you !” I cheerfully said. “(Y/N/N) ! So good to see you. Carmen and I missed you on Sunday” he said as he then pulled me in for a hug. “Aww sorry I had to take off suddenly, had some things to sort at home” I sighed. “Ahh well we always have the next race weekend” he suggested. “Yeah of course. How’s my bestie doing..where is she ?” I asked. I could literally feel a pair of eyes burning at the back of my head. “She’s at home. You should stop by later if you have time” he smiled. “Aww that’s sweet. Thanks for the offer, I’ll try” I smiled back and just then we were disrupted to gather everyone for the factory meeting.

I don’t know why my brain told me to look back…and I actually did. Of course, it’s Lewis looking right at me. I ignored him and walked past him with George by my side.

After the factory meeting, both George and Lewis practiced ahead of Singapore on the simulator. Our team photographer, Steve, had then sent me the pictures he took for today for me to post onto the team socials. I was in my own cubicle, organising posts and captions until I heard a “hey !” from behind me. “Heyy !” I enthusiastically replied. I turned around on my chair to be faced with Lewis.

“Oh. It’s you” I said as my smile dropped. “Ahh you’re never this disappointed to see me and you’re so distant lately” he said causally. “Are you forgetting what you told me on Sunday ? You said and I quote I couldn’t care to talk to you right now, leave me alone !” I whisper yelled. “Can we talk somewhere more private ?” He motioned to the room a few metres away. I rolled my eyes and followed behind him. “Look (Y/N/N)..I’m really sorry for the way I acted. It was immature and uncalled for. I should’ve never taken my anger out on you... It’s unfortunate that I hurt those that I love and care for, you deserve better” he said as he took a step closer and held my hands in his.

I sighed, “Lew, it’s okay.. I get it. It’s normal to get upset, no one is expected to be happy all the time. You had a bad race, and it is what it is…you’re forgiven” “Those words just made my day. I didn’t know how to message you because I felt bad, and I needed to see you in person to get everything off my chest” he cleared his throat and had a more serious expression. “You made me realise a lot in these few days we were apart… I’m in denial about my feelings” he huffed. “Okay ? Lew I’m not getting you” I raised a brow in confusion. “Life isn’t complete without you in it. Not hearing your laugh or seeing you and that beautiful smile that lights up the room made me realise what I’m missing… I’m falling in love with you (Y/N)” he softly said with a smile.

My heart was racing. I could feel my hands getting clammy. I was at a loss for words. “Please say something” he softly said. “I’m sorry I’m just speechless. This is so surreal. I’ll be honest with you, I’ve been in denial about my feelings for a while, I tried to convince myself that the less I see you then the better… but I couldn’t. You made it so hard for me when you look so fine, and I have to post pictures of you -“ I rambled. “Did you just call me fine ?” He smirked and raised a brow. “Did I ? Oh my god. I- ugh you’re making this hard” I pouted as I noticed his eyes went from making eye contact to subtly switching to my lips.

I didn’t even have time to realise what was going on until I felt the butterflies. He cupped my cheek and placed his lips on mine. I kissed back and placed a hand around his neck to pull closer. “Lewis, have you seen-“ the door burst opened by George. I broke away and felt embarrassed by getting caught in the act. “Found her. Uhm sorry to interrupt, was going to ask if you’re coming over (Y/N/N) but seems like you already have plans” George winked. “Righttt see yourself out mate” Lewis motioned to the door. “Lew !” I playfully hit his chest. “See you love birds around” George said lastly before leaving. Momentarily, Lewis and I turned to look at each other. “So, your place or mine ?” He smirked

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton fluff #f1 fluff #lewis hamilton oneshot #lh #lh44 #ricciardoaf oneshots

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