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#i LOVE that the doctor meets her and is like oh my god she is SO clever and fast she can keep up with me!!
cowlovely · 4 months
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i truly do think that clara oswald is one of the characters of all time i’m sorry.
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camellcat · 5 months
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I keep thinking about this one fic, where amy gets sent back in time to the beginning of s1 by a weeping angel, and like. idk. I want to see clara in s1. idk how'd she get there. probably some wackiness of converging timelines or whatever since we already know she's, like, woven throughout his entire life. but I just wanna see her reaction to nine and rose. specifically nine. and then seeing how different s2 ten is to ANY doctor she's ever known. I want her there!!! plus her and rose would be best friends SORRY I keep saying it but it's TRUE
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aftermathing · 11 months
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I'm like. actively being abused at home. What do I even do about that.
#://#Today she said I am disgusting and unapproachable and will never have friends or find love because I make everyone I meet uncomfortable#Because I don't shave my legs#When I told her I keep blacking out from my chronic pain she said 'that's a little dramatic'#When I told her I should probably go to the hospital for that she shushed me because she was trying to watch her fuckin. Fringe show#Always with the shushing. Every time I speak :((#She said I should go out & do something and quit being so lazy. So i said I would ride my bike but the tire is flat#She said 'why are you so useless' :((#When I was projectile vomiting for three days I told her I had a 104°F temperature and she said 'darn'#I asked if she wanted to watch Ponyo with me and she said 'oh my god I don't want to watch your stupid crap shit'#When I dropped a cup of gatorade and mopped it up (agony for chronic pain btw) she felt where it was still sticky and said#I'm so stupid and it's my fault we have ants (we do not have ants)#So I said 'yeah mommy I think my fine motor skills are getting worse I can't hold things or swallow very well'#She said 'have you tried paying attention??' :((((#I told her I had a sunburn and it hurt and she said 'youre so needy'#I got beat up in middle school and I was crying about it and she said it was all my fault because I was annoying#I was also sexually assaulted that same week but after the way she responded to that I was not going to tell her#One time when we were at the doctor and checked yes for suicidal thoughts she started screaming and crying#About how much we hate her and think she is a bad mother and how ungrateful we are#If I read this list to her she would say I was making it up and trying to make her look like a bad evil person#Because she is!!! She insults and belittles me so much I genuinely wish she would just beat my ass instead#I'm 20 years old why are you talking to me this way#I know it's all verbal abuse but. I'm so fucking miserable I want to die living here#Oh wait one time she strangled my little sibling because they complained about finding blood in their can of tuna
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littledovesnow · 4 months
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a growing family
request(s): Reader and Coriolanus have a little fight, and Reader blurts out she's pregnant. AND corio when you tell him you’re pregnant? maybe even him going to the doctor with you?? I love ur fics <3
word count: 2.1k
content warnings: pregnancy, little angst (like a smidgen of it, you gotta squint to see it), little bit of mean coriolanus
You stared at the calendar that was pinned to the corkboard, heart hammering in your chest so bad you could hear it.
“No, no, no.” You mumbled, running a hand through your hair, getting stuck in a few tangles.
Not wanting to face your husband when he got home, you grabbed your purse and headed down the grand staircase and out of the apartment, walking over the Corso’s small grass area and up to the Snow’s apartment.
Knocking on the door, you looked at your chipped nail polish until the door flung open, Tigris appearing on the other side.
She had a wide smile on her face, but it fell as soon as she saw your expression. “What’s wrong?” She asked, pulling you into the apartment.
You looked down the hall to see if the Grandma’am was home. “You have to promise not to tell your cousin.”
Tigris’ eyes grew, and she looked you up and down. “What? Why? What are you-”
“I’m late.”
It took a moment before Tigris’ head snapped up, eyes meeting your own. “You- have you gone to a doctor yet?”
Shaking your head, you let out a tearful laugh. “Are you kidding? As soon as anyone sees me walking into an obstetrician’s office, they’ll run to the Capitol News fast as lightning. I want to tell Coriolanus myself; I don’t want him to find out from the paper.”
Tigris frowned. “How late are you?”
“A couple weeks. I lost track of time, and I was stressed so I assumed it was just late. But then I was taking a shower and the smell of my body wash made me want to throw up. And- oh my God, my boobs hurt so bad.”
Tigris laughed, sending you an apologetic look. “You’ll need to tell Coryo soon. I think he wants to go out to some of the Districts and do some press soon.”
It was true, Coriolanus had brought the idea up the other night at dinner, wanting to start gathering a following for the upcoming election now that President Ravenstill had announced he would be stepping down due to his poor health.
Nodding, you toyed with the loose hem of your jacket, tears coming to your eyes again. “I know, I’m going to. I just don’t want him to get mad. We’ve always talked about starting a family once he’s more established in the field.”
Tigris said your name softly, grabbing your hands. “I know Coryo, and I know he won’t get upset. Maybe if you keep this a secret any longer he’ll get a little disgruntled, but he won’t be mad.”
You appreciated the older Snow more than you thought you would, giving her a tight squeeze. “Thank you, Tigris.”
-----
Coriolanus closed the door to the apartment, letting out a sigh as he tried to keep his work and home life separate.
He called your name, walking into the kitchen with the bottle of wine he wanted to surprise you with.
Entering the kitchen, he frowned when he didn’t see you where you were usually humming to something on the radio, looking in the fridge or preparing dinner. As much as he offered to hire an Avox to cook and prepare meals, you declined it; stating you liked being able to make whatever you were hungry for.
“Love?” He called, setting the wine down and moving down the hall to the bedroom, worry growing in the pit of his stomach when you weren’t on the chaise with a book in your hand, as you sometimes were when he worked a little later than usual.
He heard a shuffle in the bathroom, behind the closed door.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” He asked, opening the door slowly, stepping in when he saw you sitting against the tub, hair pulled back crudely.
“Hi, Coryo.” You threw him a smile, though it looked more like a grimace given your current situation.
Kneeling down, Coriolanus moved some of the hair that was still growing out from the bangs, frown on his face. “What’s wrong, why didn’t you send for me? Dr. Gaul would’ve let me leave. She’s got a soft spot for you, you know.”
You leaned into Coriolanus’ hand, small groan coming out of your mouth. “Didn’t want to bother you. It’ll pass in a few minutes.”
“And how are you so certain about that?” Coriolanus mused, rubbing your back as you leaned over the porcelain bowl once more.
Once you were sure you were done, you slowly rose, Coriolanus with a careful grasp on your hip to keep you upright.
“Because,” you took a swig of the water glass you had poured earlier, spitting into the sink basin. “I felt like this yesterday, too.”
Coriolanus’ hand moved to your forehead, feeling for a fever. “You don’t feel feverish. Perhaps it’s that new jam you’ve put on your toast this morning. Did you have it yesterday, too?”
Looking at him in the mirror’s reflection, you simply nodded, even though you did not. “Yeah, probably just a bad batch.”
Coriolanus helped you to the bed, hand moving along your jaw in admiration. “Why don’t you rest, I’m sure I can scrounge up some soup.”
You nodded, watching your husband’s retreating figure as he disappeared down the hall.
Once you were sure he was out of earshot, you leaned your head against the wall, one hand going to rub on your not-yet-visible bump. “You’ve gotta give me time to tell him.”
-----
It had been two days since Coriolanus found you on the bathroom floor, and he continued to believe that you simply had a small bout of food poisoning, none the wiser to the true reason you were ill only a few times.
Currently, you were sitting next to him, across from the Plinths, who insisted on weekly dinners at their apartment, only a few floors below you and Coriolanus.
An Avox went around pouring wine, pausing when you held a hand over your glass. “None for me, thank you.”
Ma Plinth looked between you and the bottle of wine. “It’s your favorite?”
Smiling, you were going to explain when Coriolanus spoke up for you, comforting hand on your thigh.
“She’s been a little ill the last few days, some food poisoning.”
Not believing it for a second, the older woman simply nodded, letting the Avox pour her another round.
“Coriolanus,” Strabo Plinth spoke up, leaning forward to talk business. “Have you given any thought about visiting the Districts? It would do you well to stop in before you officially start campaigning.”
Though only Capitol residents were eligible to vote in the upcoming election, many candidates made sure to stop into a majority of the Districts to show they aren’t afraid of the rebels, that they can control them if need be.
Coriolanus nodded, setting down his utensils. “I am, yes. Dr. Gaul and I had been talking about a good time for me to take a short leave. It looks like I’ll be able to go in few months, plenty of time before the campaigning will start.”
You mulled over the sentence for a moment, telling yourself now was as good a time as any. “If you go then, I won’t be able to go with you.”
Three sets of eyes focused on you, varying degrees of confusion swimming in all of them. “Why? It will be autumn, perfect season for photography of Panem’s future leading couple.”
Coriolanus quickly thought over any important dates in your family, none that arose during the time you two would be on the train. “It’ll only be a few weeks; we’ll be back in time for your sister’s birthday.”
You smiled at the blonde, looking at Strabo Plinth as he spoke up.
“A man can’t properly campaign without his wife there, how will the Capitol view you as a First Lady if you’re not by his side?”
“Yes, and perhaps seeing a united front will help lessen the threat of another rebellion.” Coriolanus nodded, clinking his glass of whiskey with his late classmate’s father.
Mrs. Plinth, eyes narrowing, seemed to figure out what the men did not. “Honey, why don’t we save this conversation for a better-suited time? I’m sure I can talk to Ravenstill and get him to set up a meeting time between the three of you.”
Strabo Plinth and Coriolanus both seemed content with that, shifting subjects to something you weren’t interested in.
You sent a grateful look to the woman across from you, who simply nodded in return.
-----
“I don’t understand why you don’t want to go visit the Districts with me.” Coriolanus snapped, fingers hastily undoing the tie he despised wearing.
“Coryo, I do want to go with you. It’s just that time won’t be good.” You carefully removed the numerous hairpins from their position at the nape of your neck.
The blonde man grumbled, pulling his shirt from where it was tucked into his trousers. “If we go any sooner or later it’ll be a bad time for my campaigning! Too soon, the news will have moved on to something else, like- like Flickerman’s new parrot!”
You rolled your eyes, struggling to unzip the dress you wore. “Can you-”
“Go any later and it’ll impede the speeches and galas and events I need to be in the Capitol for!” Coriolanus’ voice raised, and you paused to look at him, hand still trying to grab the zipper.
“Coryo.”
Coriolanus threw a hand up, face growing red from anger. “Do you even want me to become President?! To be able to give you all you want, to never have to worry about money, food, anything?”
You were at your wit’s end, hand finally falling from your back. “I do, Coriolanus! I do want you to be the president. But if you travel to the Districts at that time I can’t go with you because I’ll be too pregnant to go with you!”
There was a silence so loud you didn’t dare breathe. “What?” Coriolanus whispered, eyes meeting yours. “Pregnant?”
Nodding, you were once again trying to unzip the dress, huffing as you gave up for good. “Yes, and I had a special dinner planned but you just had to go and ruin it.”
Coriolanus silently moved behind you, carefully unzipping the dress and letting you use his hands for balance as you stepped out of the skirt. “You didn’t have food poisoning, did you?”
Shaking your head, you felt your eyes water. “No.”
You must have looked like a fool, standing there in your undergarments, husband behind you with his dress trousers and socks still on.
“I’m sorry for yelling. I- I’m sure we can still visit the Districts before the election, just a more abbreviated tour than planned.”
You laughed, a watery, light laugh. It was music to Coriolanus’ ears. “Whatever you want, Mr. President.”
-----
Your knee was bouncing rapidly, the only telltale sign of your anxiety.
Coriolanus had gone forth and scheduled an appointment with the Capitol’s best obstetrician, going to far as to personally thank them for agreeing to see you at such an early time. He also laid out the threat that if anything were to happen to you during the pregnancy that could have been stopped, the obstetrician would never see their family again, but that wasn’t for you to worry about.
“Love, you don’t need to be nervous. I’ll be with you.” Coriolanus mumbled, hand moving from behind your chair to your thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the side.
“I know, I just- this is our first child, Coryo.” You looked up at him. “I can’t help but be nervous.”
Coriolanus smiled, pressing his lips to your temple. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”
The nurse came out and escorted you two back to the exam room, instructing you to pull your shirt up as she squirted gel onto your stomach.
You and Coriolanus watched her every move, anxiety sky-rocketing as she frowned at the screen.
“What? What’s wrong?” Coriolanus asked, hand gripping your own.
“I just- let me get the doctor to confirm, give me one moment.” She didn’t look back as she left the room, leaving you and Coirolanus to soak in an anxiety-filled silence.
Only a few moments passed before the nurse returned, doctor in tow, and she also moved the wand around. “Ah, yes. You are correct.”
“What?” You asked, eyes flitting between the medical professionals and the back of the computer.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Snow. You’re having twins.”
-----
a/n: send requests here
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luveline · 1 month
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Ok but can you imagine if bombshell!reader who is pregnant does fall down somewhere?? Everyone, Spencer very much so, freaks out and she tries to play it off cool even though she’s really sore. She and baby are ok but she and Spencer are definitely shaken up by this and he’s even more hover-y from this 😭🥲
ty for requesting <3 pregnant!reader falling and panicking lovely bf spencer, 1.3k
“We’re like, the dream team,” you say, sewing your arm through the crook of Spencer’s. He’s trying to zip up your jacket, which is difficult given the ever-growing curve of your stomach. With one arm, it’s hopeless. 
“We are,” he murmurs obligingly, thinking about how cold it is outside and how you’ve yet to give in to the ‘ugly-fest’ of maternity clothes at work. It’s a shame. You look adorable in them at home. “Maybe you should put on your hoodie.” 
“It’s fine, it’s like, three steps between the station and the hotel.” You smile at him. He loves your eyes, your lashes, and he forgets to be stern. 
“Let’s go, then.” He waves at Emily where she’s chatting with an officer. “You ready?” he asks. 
Penelope pops her head out of the office with her laptop bag tucked under her arm. “Let’s go home, my chickens.” 
You and Spencer devolve into one of your murmured conversations, giggling, pressed arm to arm as you and the team emerge from the warmth of the police station and into the cold winter air. It’s sub zero outside, Spencer’s sure, wanting to get you back out of the elements as quickly as possible. 
He takes the steps first and holds out his hand a few beneath. Emily laughs, says, “He’s so chivalrous,” to Penelope’s delight. 
“He’s always been our gentleman,” Penelope says. 
You look eager to agree. “He’s my prince,” you tease gently, taking his hand, leaning just a little too far forward. 
Your foot slips out from underneath you with a sound like a knife scraping the snow. You fall hard and fast, and the horror is that your one leg trips more than the other and you end up slamming flat on your side. 
Spencer has you up again before the slush can so much as wet your clothes, but it doesn’t matter. Your eyes go wider than he’s ever seen them and your lips struggle down into an immediate frown, a wobbly expression, alarm in your voice as you say, “Oh, woah.” 
“Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?” Penelope asks, she and Spencer rushing down to the bottom of the steps to meet you. 
“Sit her down, Spencer,” Emily says quickly, not scornful or anything but her concern turning her tone hard. 
“It’s wet,” he says, as his head bubbles up with horrible statistics. 
“Spencer,” you say tightly, “I’m fine.” 
You don’t look fine. He yanks his suit jacket off and drops it to the floor, a write off, he and Penelope encouraging you to sit on the bottom step. Your eyes are filled with tears, he suspects from panic and pain at once, and he doesn’t really know what to do in this situation for a second, he has to think back. It’s hard to think and hold your hands at the same time. 
“It’s okay,” he says, enthusing his voice with false pep. 
“What should we do?” Penelope asks, quicker to panic than the rest of you. 
Spencer bends down in front of you. You’re the only person that matters in that moment. “What hurts?” he asks, hand hovering over your side. “Does anything hurt?” 
“Yeah,” you breathe out, before shaking your head, “What about–” You cut yourself off. “Yeah.” 
Spencer takes your wrist. “I’m gonna call Dr. Cordell right now. Okay? Just as a precaution. That’s what you’re supposed to do, okay?” 
“I think I hurt my hip,” you say smally. 
With some help from the girls, Spencer gets you back to the hotel. He calls your doctor, and they decide to get you an emergency check up with an antenatal doctor he knows while you’re still out of state. It feels less panicky and more dread while you wait, but the appointment goes well, and you’re given the all clear a few hours after your fall. 
You’re uncharacteristically quiet at the hotel. Spencer asks if you’re alright and you say, “Of course,” while he spends the rest of the evening watching you wince. 
It’s getting ready for bed where he finally gets you to crack for him. You’re not expecting to be sore, that much is clear, and you’re bashful asking for his help. “I can’t get my shirt over my head,” you say from the bathroom, with no need to shout. He can hear you from his not so casual seat at the foot of the bed. 
He lost his tie a few hours ago, and his suit jacket lays soggy in a plastic bag on top of his suitcase. He rolls his sleeves up as he eases into the small bathroom, eyes dropping to the naked bump of your stomach where your shirt is pooled. You have a yellowy bruise taking form on your hip. Another on your bump, like the lines of the stone steps. 
“Angel,” he murmurs, fingers glancing over the bruise gently. 
“Doesn’t hurt.” 
“You don’t have to lie.” 
You poke him. “Help me get changed, handsome.” You laugh at your demanding. “Please help me get changed.” 
“So rude,” he says. 
He grabs the ends of your shirt and pulls it up your back and over the back of your head so as to not agitate your cut up elbow again. You sigh as he pulls it clean, leaving you shirtless and gorgeous in the bathroom, despite all your worrying. He should tell you. He can’t not tell you, really. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, taking your shoulders into his hands. 
“Even with the baby weight?” you ask. 
He rubs your arm. “You’ve never been this beautiful.” 
“Oh, no, don’t say that.” You cover his arm with yours, hand over his, fingers intertwining loosely. 
“You’re always…” He leans down. He’d been about to stop himself, but he continues, lips just an inch from yours, the two of you eye to eye. “Beautiful. I’m sorry about today, it was my fault.” 
“It was my fault.” 
“I should’ve been more careful, I knew it was cold enough for frost.” 
“I should’ve been more careful,” you say, frowning at him indignantly, “I know how fragile I am right now and I’m not being careful enough.” 
“You slipped,” he argues. It could only be an accident.
“What if she felt it?” you whisper. 
Spencer was trying to assuage your fears and he’d been planning on a kiss, but a hug feels more important in that moment, a careful loop of his arms under yours. His few inches of height over you are especially helpful in steering clear of your stomach. “She didn’t feel it, Y/N, I promise. You took the fall for her, and the doctor said everything is just fine. She didn’t even know it was happening, I swear.” 
You let out a long, slow breath. You nod into his should after a few moments. “Okay. Thank you for picking me back up, Spence.” 
“That was impressive, right?” 
You poke him some more as you let the entirety of your weight slouch into his front. “You’re quite impressive, Reid. I felt the muscle.” You kiss his neck, voice dropping to a murmur, “I’m okay.” He hasn’t realised how badly he needed reassurance too. 
“I know.” 
“Sorry if I was dramatic,” you say. 
“Dramatic?” he laughs, thumb on your neck drawing shapes. “You tried to tell me you were fine. That’s the opposite of dramatic.” 
“…Maybe I should slow down some. Maybe. Take some days off.” 
Spencer kisses the top of your head. “That could be nice. You’ve been bouncing around for months. We could just spend a couple of days laying down, right? You can try out some of those maternity pyjamas you’re so reluctant to wear.” 
“Why’d you buy so many?” 
“I’m trying to take care of you. I thought I’d finally be allowed,” he says. 
Your voice turns to a whisper. “You always take care of me, Spence. You really do.” 
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shotmrmiller · 3 months
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soulmate au part 1
john price x f!reader
wc: 1.2k
unedited, forgive my mistakes.
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since you were born, your world has been grey. you never thought anything of it, until at school, they started teaching you colours. the only ones in the room that could see more than just different shades of grey, apart from the teacher, were identical twins.
weird.
you went home and asked your parents.
"we are born missing half of ourselves. we have a fated one, and when you meet them, your world will look the way it was meant to."
oh. but... "in class, there were twins that could see colour. what about them?"
they look surprised for a second until your dad softly explains. "in rare instances, the soulmate bond will be platonic. which makes sense in this case, because twins grow up with a connection regular people like us will never understand."
you nod and lower your gaze to look at your shoes. you wonder if the person meant for you is interested in junie b. jones books like you are.
-
in high school, you crush on this pretty girl— a cheerleader. her hair is long and beautiful, her face is small and round, and she's so kind. just your type.
but no colour stains your vision, so you burrow your emotions deep and mourn the loss of what could've been.
-
in college, one of your friends ask you if you've met your soulmate yet.
"no, not yet," you lament. what she says after freezes the blood in your veins.
"my mom knew someone whose soulmate was already dead before they had even been born," she comments while stabbing a grape tomato with her fork. "it was really tragic, because she'll never know what it's like to know a love that has no equal."
your heart is in your throat, and you find it hard to swallow the food in your mouth.
what if your soulmate is already dead? oh, god. you might just throw up. your friend doesn't seem to notice the change in your demeanor and continues to babble carelessly about how she knew someone that knew someone who's soulmate had turned out to be a murderer.
oh my fucking god.
you quickly run to the bathroom and throw up your lunch.
how cruel is the universe? to have no control over who is meant to be for you.
you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and lean against the stall of the bathroom. you should've known that this soulmate business was too good to be true.
cupping your hands, you rinse the taste of bile out of your mouth before walking back to your friend who stayed in her seat.
"jesus, you look terrible, you alright?" she asks.
running your fingers through your hair, you huff. "i've certainly been better. just got a bit nauseous, nothing serious. maybe it's a stomach bug."
"oooh, you better not be pregnant! what of your dreams of working in the medical field?"
you giggle at her response. "that'd be impossible unless i'm the virgin mary."
she gapes comically then leans in and whispers, "you're lying! don't tell me you haven't dated anyone just because they weren't your soulmate."
you shrug, and keep your eyes fixed on your half-eaten plate of food. "i don't really wanna talk about it, if that's alright with you. besides, you've got bigger things to worry about, like the upcoming exam for mr. richardson."
slapping a hand to her forehead, she exclaims, "oh, shit! i totally forgot! shit!"
you watch her inhale the rest of her salad and toss her trash before waving goodbye and sprinting toward the library.
with a sigh, you look down at your food. grey. lifeless. shaking your head, you pick up your plate and toss it in the bin.
you decide to focus solely on your studies. you have dreams of being a doctor and pining after someone you haven't even met yet would only serve as a distraction.
--
your white coat grazes your calves as you walk toward your new patient. standing outside the room, you pick up the clipboard.
Price, John. 34, Active Military.
he's the head of the task force! god, you've only heard stories of them from the other medics on base who have met them, so to finally come face to face with the man, the myth, the legend? you wipe your clammy hands on the fabric of your scrubs and clear your throat.
be professional, be professional. he's just another patient, it's no big deal.
rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait a second before twisting the knob with a shaky hand. you nervously keep your eyes on the clipboard as you walk in.
"good morning, captain price."
"mornin', doc," he rumbles.
oh, his deep voice just might be the end of you.
"you don't sound all that happy to be here, captain," you tease while flipping through his medical history papers.
he lets out a low chuckle, and you squeeze your thighs together at the sound. delicious.
"nothin' personal, doc. just don't like bein' here, you understand."
lightly laughing at his joke, you finally steel your nerves and look up at him.
only to have your vision bleed in something you don't understand. is that colour? is this what colour looks like?
the clipboard drops, clattering to the floor. john— being the courteous gentleman that he is— quickly kneels to grab it and lifts his head as he hands it to you.
he freezes in place, the clipboard slipping from his hands as he stares at you.
you thickly swallow, and dumbly question, "do you...has your....colour? can you see colour?"
unblinking, john's eyes are fixated on you as he remains silent.
your eyes dart around to take in his features. his brightly-coloured eyes are framed by lines that hint at his age, his strong jaw adorned by a mutton-chop beard. his nose is specked with a beauty mark.
"what colour are your eyes, captain?" you softly ask.
he closes his mouth and takes in a sharp breath. "i've been told they're blue."
"blue," you smile. the eyes of your soulmate are blue.
but then, your delighted smile melts off your face, in horror.
there's a shiny band on his finger. he's married.
john price, your soulmate, is fucking married.
your vision distorts with the tears that threaten to spill and bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. it feels like there are shards of glass in your lungs, cutting you open with each quivering breath you take. your pain is red-hot, searing under your skin, flowing through your veins like molten lead.
john knows exactly what you're looking at.
"love—" he starts but you cut him off swiftly.
"don't. you don't owe me anything, captain. uhm, but uh... maybe it's best that we switch your doctors, yeah? conflict of interest, and all that."
you all but run away, away from that room, from him.
how terribly unlucky.
you head towards your office, which is down the hall, and slam the door closed. only then, do you cry, and mourn what should've been.
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whiskeyghoul · 2 months
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She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid X Goth!reader]
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A/N: self indulgent little fic here. I have been in a writing slump for a few weeks and needed to do something just a little self indulgent. So we have this which has been on my mind for ever. I love Abby Sciuto from NCIS and thought how fun it would be to see our little nerd fall in love with the alternative lab rat of the FBI. This is not proof read or anything so it might not be the absolute best but I just wanted to put something out here again.
WC: 1737
Tags: fluff, crush, first meeting, love at first sight possibly, multiple parts, opposites attract, self indulgent fic, reader is described as female, reader is alternative
Warnings: Mention of human remains.
Read part 2 here, read part 3 here
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The music coming from the lab was muffled. Even through the closed door Spencer could hear the barely legible lyrics as he got closer and closer. As he reached the door and knocked there seemed to be no answer. Certain his knocking wouldn’t be heard over the noise that he now recognized as Siouxsie and the banshees. He opened the door. As soon as the barrier between him and the music was lifted it sounded so clear. It was turned up to 11 and he wondered how anyone could even focus with music that loud.
That was until he saw you, swaying along to the music, the white coat exaggerated the movements. Swishing from side to side as you reach for a pasteur pipette while bobbing your head along to the music. You seemed absorbed in the music, focussed on your work leaning over the bench and carefully dripping a clear substance on a piece of paper while still perfectly on beat with the music. Spencer cleared his throat loudly, hoping to make himself known before he interrupted you in whatever you seemed to be doing. Though it didn’t quite reach the decibel level to alert you. “L/N” he called out your last name but once again no response. So he took a few steps closer. Once Spencer was close enough he reached out and softly tapped your shoulder. You jumped in response, whirling around in shock with the pipette in your hands raised like a weapon. Like somehow you would be able to defend yourself with the lab instrument. A yelp falling from your lips. 
“Oh my god! Can’t you knock!” You accused, eyes wide as you placed your free hand on the top of your chest, taking a deep breath. “I did. I also tried to clear my throat to not scare you.” Spencer retorted, his voice raised a little louder so you could hear him over the music. You twirled around, placing the pipette in the holder. “I’m Doctor Reid, from the BAU.” He continued loudly. You turned, holding your left hand up to shush him. Your right fishing the remote from your coat pocket. It gave Spencer some time to look you over. 
Your lab coat was about the only light thing you wore. The outfit underneath was black on black on black. A band tee with illegible writing that peeked over a corset, layered with a ripped fishnet top underneath. The abundance of necklaces of all different lengths, cascading down your neck like silver waterfalls. Ripped jeans he wasn’t quite sure were safe for the lab environment, but the skin of your thigh caught his attention. Something inside of him stirring. He fidgeted with his hands in front of his body.
“So… you were saying?” You spoke. Spencer’s eyes snapped back to your face. You looked up at him with big eyes, a small smile accompanying them. The music was turned down now giving him room to think. Though your eyes still made it difficult to really focus. “Oh, I am Doctor Reid, from the BAU.”  He answered after swallowing for a moment. “Ah! You are here for the clothing analysis, right? Penelope mentioned one of the team would come pick it up. Normally it's her or Derek, though I think Derek has complained about hearing loss.” You whirled around while rambling on, pony tail waving behind as you turned, bounding over to a table with scattered papers. Spencer followed close behind, not focussing on the words rather just the tone of your voice, a slight intrigue towards you. He didn’t even know your first name, yet somehow your mannerisms, your unconventional style, it made him want to know more. “Right.” He said, realizing he hadn’t technically answered your questions. 
Spencer looked over your shoulder as you picked up a stack of papers neatly stapled together. He thought he might be a bit too close as he could smell the subtle perfume wafting off of you. Though he also strangely enjoyed it. It was sweet but not overly so. A hint of cherry that was fitting in his eyes. The color of the fruit matching that of your lipstick. As you looked over the paper and began to talk again, “So, the substance that was on the clothes seems to be turpentine. Commonly used in oil painting. The vapors can already cause irritation to the eyes, skin, and airways if exposed to them for longer periods of time.” you rambled off the words as you read them. “There were some other things found on the clothes that coincide with the oil painting. Different pigments and paint residue.” You turned, eyes still on the paper nearly bumping into Spencer as he had been standing so close. When you looked up at him surprised he could feel a tightening in his chest. “Oops, sorry.” You apologized, a small smile on your lips.
You apologized to him while he was the one in your way. “Oh it was my fault. Shouldn’t have stood so close. Sorry.” He muttered. The words falling from his lips unceremoniously. He felt like half of his intelligence had up and left his brain as he talked to you. Not really knowing what to say at that moment. His hands fidgeted at his sides again. His left hand playing with the hem of his cardigan sleeve. He cursed himself internally for being reduced to a stumbling mess in front of you. You kept standing there though. Clearly you had turned around to go somewhere and Spencer had been in your way. Yet he was nailed in place and so, it seemed to him, were you. “Did you know they used to make oil paints with human remains?” You spoke excitedly. Like you had been waiting to tell someone, anyone, that little fact. He knew that. He knew that for a long time yet seeing you, tell him a fact with such delight, made him want to lie. “Now I do.” He answered, his smile matching yours.
“It was called mummy brown. They ground up mummies, both human and animal, and put it in the paint.” You continued. Your voice trailing off slightly after the word animal. You held up the stack of papers to him. “Everything you need is in there. If you need me to clarify something just give me a call. Or stop by whenever you want.” Spencer nods after your sentence. Taking the papers from you his hand touched yours ever so slightly. His brain short circuited for a moment before the neurons started firing accordingly again. “I eh- I don’t have your number.” he stumbled over the words.
As if you realized that in that moment you took a step aside and walked past him. Walking over to a desk and rummaging through a drawer. Spencer walked a bit closer to your desk. No longer being nailed in place by some unspeakable force. You pulled out a thin sharpie, and Spencer raised a brow ever so slightly at that. You walked back over, holding out your hand to grasp his. Spencer placed his hand in yours. His mouth felt incredibly dry for a moment. His tongue was uncomfortable in his mouth. His heartbeat raced faster. Nothing like he had ever really felt before. You could have done it on the papers, or maybe even a sticky note. Yet you decided that his hand would be the perfect place to write down your number. He thought about it for a moment, your hand was soft and warm. You twisted his hand, writing down your phone number along with your name. Once you finished you let go off his hand. Spencer looked at the black numbers, committing them to memory, and your name. God your name would be bouncing around his head for days. “Y/N.” He said, testing the name. It felt right.
“That’s me, you better put that in your phone. These markers are not nearly as permanent on skin. It’s the oils.” You went on, capping the marker as you spoke. “I will. Thank you.” Spencer said and smiled. He stayed standing in place for another moment. Trying to commit you to memory just in case his eidetic memory failed him. He realized he was staring a little and cleared his throat. “I eh… I have to go.” pointing his thumb to the door. You giggled a little, a sound that made Spencer’s cheek heat up a little. “Right, pretty boy, head on out. I need to get back to work too.” You smiled casually. Spencer’s face was only heating up more. He swallowed. The nickname the others used for him sounded so much better when it came from you. He turned around to hide his ever heating face from your sight, walking over to the door quickly. Once in the opening he quickly looked back, giving an awkward wave that you returned with a smile. 
When Spencer entered the bullpen his face had calmed down a little. Not feeling nearly as hot as before. He was able to think clearly again, but when he looked at your number and name on his hand he felt giddy inside. Reaching his desk he sat down, placing the analysis file on his desk. “That took you long enough, pretty boy.” Derek called out from his desk, humor in his voice. The nickname had no effect when he said it. “Sorry, the lab tech… she was explaining some things to me.” Spencer quickly lied. “Alright, can I get the file?” Derek had his hand already out. Spencer gave him the file and Derek’s brows raised at the number scribbled on his hand. “You got her number?” He smirked. Spencer pulled his hand back covering the numbers and your name with his other hand. “If something needed more clearing up.” He retorted. Derek merely chuckled at his awkwardness, “She’s friends with Garcia, you wouldn’t have needed her phone number.” He added with a smirk. Spencer felt his face heat up a little again, embarrassed. He knew that. He knew that he had known that. But in that moment he couldn’t think.
He looked back at his hand. Your name on his skin. A little flutter in his chest kicked up when he did. Derek cleared his throat, making Spencer look up again. Derek pointed at him with his pen, before opening his mouth. “You better call her soon.”
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blackbird-brewster · 17 days
Text
Highlights from Catherine Tate's Q&A Panel at Armageddon Expo 2024 (NZ) :
[I took notes best I could during the panel but some may be paraphrased]
Q: What's your favourite Doctor Who alien?
CT: The wonderful Ood!
Q: Who's your favourite Doctor? (Crowd gasps in anticipation)
CT: Well, I get asked this a lot, and obviously it's David (Tennant). I don't know what number he is, he keeps coming back. But definitely, David. Although, someone recently pointed out that I was technically the first ever female Doctor. So you know what? Me, I'm my favourite Doctor.
Q: What's your favourite episode you were in of Doctor Who?
CT:The Runaway Bride, because that's where it all began.
Q: What's a favourite memory of working with David Tennant on Doctor Who?
CT: The scene in 'Partners in Crime', the one with the Adipose, there's the scene where Donna and the Doctor see each other from across a room. But they're both behind glass and they have the whole mime scene with the windows. Well, I remember it was about 3am when we were filming that - - Russel really likes to film at night if the story is taking place at night - so it was 3am, and I said to the director 'Uh, right here it just says Donna Mimes' and he said 'Yeah do whatever'.
So that whole scene was ad-lib during shooting and David and I were so in sync with it, we did that first take and the director said cut and print!
Q: How emotional were you filming your final scene in Journey's End?
CT: So, we didn't always film in order. And I'm not really a sentimental person, but I will say I thought Donna's ending was absolutely perfect. When she meets the Doctor she was always yelling at the world, and she was so different than what she was by the end, she had so much growth with the Doctor and she changed so much in her time with him, but then, she forgets the him and all those memories. And that final scene, what really got me was how he says 'Donna, I'm off' and she's just, I think she's on the phone, and she just waves dismissively. She doesn't know him anymore. Russell, the way he ties things together, he's brilliant, that man.
Q: What was it like working with Bernard (Cribbins)?
CT: Oh, Bernard. God, I love him. He was so funny and talented. He always had stories and voices and sound effects. He loved making people laugh. But we had a gag where every single time I called him I'd say (Donna Voice) 'GRANDAD!'
He'd say, "Who is this?"
"It's Catherine."
"Catherine who?"
"Catherine Tate"
"Never heard of her."
We did this every time I called him and I loved it.
Q: Is there anything annoying about working with David Tennant?
CT: No, absolutely not. He's perfect. He's the best person to work with. I will say though, I was annoying him a lot. When we did the 60th Anniversary specials, our trailers looked exactly the same and I never knew where my trailer was. I'd walk into his all the time!
Sometimes I'd walk in and see his shoes in the trailer and instead of thinking 'Oops, wrong trailer', my brain went 'What's he gone and left his shoes in my trailer for?'
It got so bad, sometimes I'd walk up the stairs and from inside I'd hear 'NO.'
Q: Was it weird coming back to play Donna after all these years? Especially when it was along side David Tennant?
CT: It was a bit weird, more in the 'Oh I hope i still know how to do this' way than anything. But I did think it would be hilarious if David and I arrived on set and every take we just did completely wrong voices. Just thought it'd be hilarious for him to go (in an airy upper-crust British accent) 'Ohhhh, hellloooo. I'm the Doctor'
Q: If you could take any prop from set, what would you take?
CT: Ohhhh, I'd have very large pockets and see what I could fit. But mostly I think it'd be a sonic screwdriver. It's gotta be a sonic screwdriver, doesn't it? It's small and mobile... Easy to steal. Plus, it'd fetch a great price on Ebay!
Q: Best show you've ever worked on?
CT: The Office, they paid me tons of money.
Q: My mum loves David Tennant, is there something you can say to dissuade her?
CT: Hm, something to convince her he's not.... Oh, he doesn't believe in astrology! I'll say 'It's Mercury Retrograde' and he'll say 'NO, NO, NO I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT'.
Other Highlights:
As soon as she came out, she saw the stage had no steps to the audience, so she stayed on mic and went the long way round to go into the audience and interview people, trying to find who had traveled the furthest to be here. She was sorely disappointed everyone was just from Aotearoa 🤣
Donna Lines She Performed:
"Oi Spaceman! You're not mating with me sunshine!" (Crowd went wild for that)
"Binary. Binary. Binary." (🥺)
She did some of her characters: Lauren Cooper mostly, but also wished someone Happy birthday as Nan
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reiderwriter · 8 months
Note
Hii~ First of all I love your writing!
Now about the request... I really wanted one where Spencer is dating a painter who has the personality of a black cat (we all know that our Reid is a total golden retriever type) and everyone thinks that she is the dominant one of the couple since she has this more punk/alternative style, but the team couldn't be more wrong! A soft!Dom Spencer makes her obey and yield every time! ~thank u
A/N: Thanks so much for the request! I can definitely see myself making a part two for this if enough people are interested!! For now though, enjoy! ~✨
Warnings: mentions of public sex, BDSM roles, mentions of using dog collars in a sexual way, mentions of creampie.
Here's my masterlist and requests are open!~
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“I can’t believe we’re finally meeting your mystery girl tonight, Reid. You’ve been so quiet about her, we’d have never even known if Penelope hadn’t hacked your phone on a hunch.” Emily laughed at the man from her perch at the bar, raising her glass in a cheers with her fellow agents. 
“I’m not too sure she really exists, you know. I know what my baby girl said but the kid graduated from MIT, and we know texts can be doctored,” Morgan teased from the other side of the younger man. 
In response, he simply rolled his eyes and let them continue their fun and games. He’d known the two agents for long enough to know that their teasing was loving, if not entirely warranted. He’d only kept you a secret because you’d asked him to, having wanted to make a good first impression on them. He’d have gladly shouted your name from the rooftops, but you were on the shy side sometimes. 
“Oh you’re just jealous. You want me to help you take a little honey home tonight, Derek?” Emily turned on the other man this time and Reid breathed a sigh of relief that the attention was finally off of him.
“I am perfectly capable of collecting all by myself, thank you very much.” He turned an amused eye out to the rest of the bar, surveying the women in the bar like a predator looking or it’s next victim. 
“What about that one? She good enough for the Derek Morgan?” Spencer glanced up at where she was pointing at the same time as the aforementioned male did and did his best to repress his smile. Emily had glanced to the door, where you stood, outfitted in a tight black dress, chunky thigh high boots and a stoic expression. You’d carefully washed all the paint that usually adorned your hair and face away, armouring yourself in red lipstick and dog collar choker, letting the look speak for itself. 
“Now that is a nice piece of work, but not exactly what I’m into, sweet cheeks. I prefer my ladies a little bit less wild. A little more compliant if you pick up what I’m putting down.” 
“Coward. Dominant women are more fun, right Reid?” Emily smiled back at the other man, but he was looking past the two of them waving to you. 
“Oh great, you’re here. Emily, Derek I want you to meet my girlfriend, Y/N.” He grabs your hand and leads you the rest of the way to where they were standing, the grin on his face widening exponentially as the two splutter, praying to god that you didn’t just hear the tail end of their conversation about you. 
“Hi, great to meet you. And yes, Emily, I agree. Dominant women do seem to have a lot of fun,” you winked at the woman a little bit and let your boyfriend excitedly drag you over to the bar to buy you a drink. 
Recovering first, Emily pulled herself back into the barstool she’d recently vacated, and started asking you questions. 
“So, how did you guys meet?” 
“At the library actually. I was there installing a mural, and I saw him and decided I had to have him.” You smiled fondly up at your boyfriend, as he rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink. You’d perched yourself between his legs, leaning your entire bodyweight back into his chest possessively, as he trailed a light hand over your waist. 
“You’re a painter? Wow, that’s so wonderful.” 
“Yeah, that’s the dream anyway. I also work part time at an art gallery downtown to help pay the bills. It’s where he tracked me down, so it worked out pretty well, I guess.” 
“Tracked you down?” Morgan asked. 
“Yeah, after our first… run in, I forgot to give him my number.” 
“Run in? You said you met at the library, what else did you do if you forgot to swap numbers?” Emily laughed, half-heartedly, then stopped as soon as she saw the smug grin on your face paired with the awkward panicked expression on Reid’s. 
“Shut up. No way, wait I don’t even want to hear this.” 
You smiled up at the man, knowing that the way his two coworkers were imagining that first meeting was probably the exact opposite of how it had gone. Sure, you’d told the truth about approaching him first, but that was the extent of your control of the situation. You’d gone over to ask for his number, find out his name and ask if he was single. You’d returned to work an hour later with sore knees, no panties and a load of his cum dripping down your inner thighs. 
He hadn’t even allowed you to give him his number, just promised that he’d find you again, and vanished from the library bathroom stalls you’d christened in sin with a lingering kiss on your lips and a whisper of “good girl.” You’d fallen for him hard, and you never wanted to get back up. 
“Wow. And he was so desperate to find you again that he followed you to work. We taught you better than that, Reid, come on. You’re going to freak out the ladies if you come on that strong.” Morgan began teasing the man, ruffling his hair, and you bit your tongue to stop the laughter from exploding from your mouth. 
You knew from your appearances that people often came to the wrong conclusions about how you and Reid were as a couple. Your style was more alternative, though not as intense as you’d been in high school, and his was more preppy nerd, but you balanced each other out well. You knew that it irked him sometimes though. And whenever he was pissed, he took it out on you in the best way. 
After a few hours in the bar getting to know Morgan and Prentiss, and the two other lovely ladies who had arrived later, JJ and Penelope, Reid’s grip on your waist tightening made it clear that it was time for you to go home together. 
“I think we’re going to head out now, guys. I’ll see you in the office on monday.” He said and moved off, but you wanted to see how far you could push it tonight, wanting to see the lengths he would take to not show his teammates that they had vastly misunderstood your relationship. 
“But Spence, I just met them. I wanna talk some more,” you smirked up at him now, and saw his jaw clench. You were thankful you’d work the dog collar choker tonight, the thought of him grabbing it to yank you away making you squeeze your thighs together for some much needed friction. 
“We’re going now, baby. Come here.” You ignored the order for another second, and you could feel the heat in his gaze, and the curiosity in his friends as they watched this struggle between you. 
“Sweetie, did you hear me, I said we’re going now?” This time, you knew he wasn’t playing anymore, so with a quick “yes, sir,” you pushed yourself out of your seat and practically skipped over to him, a delighted grin on your face. He cupped you neck, wanting desperately to pull you in by the neck but choosing restraint instead, and brushed his lips to yours. Whenever he kissed you like that, it meant you’d caused trouble, and you knew you were going to spend the night paying for it. 
“Bye-bye, everyone, it was so nice to meet you,” you called as he led you out of the doors and into the carpark. 
“What the hell was that?” Penelope was the first one to crack, the others jaws still dropped to the floor. 
“Did she just call him sir?” JJ laughed in incredulity. 
“But-but I could’ve sworn they were…” Emily blubbered and the four of them sat there staring at the door, realising that they had underestimated their resident genius a little bit too much. 
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rineptune · 2 months
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Heeeeeyyyy pal
Can we get a continuation of that fic with the pregnant reader who's Lucifer's sister
Like what if her water broke at like, the *least* convenient time and Lucifer is freaking tf out, Alastors chill as usual and readers just like
:) "I'm just glad to be here" while having contractions
Love your work btw 🤗
inconvenient timing.
summary: inconvenient timing for your water to break, but what else could you do?
warnings: foul language, brief description of the horrors of pregnancy and labor
a/n: here it is n tysm!! the second part to devil’s paradise
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during your pregnancy, all is well. 
regular visits from the doctor became part of the routine, and alastor made the effort to be the one accompanying you to every last one of them, and on the rare occasion that he couldn’t accompany you, charlie—your ever optimistic and kind niece—was the one who came with.
the crew of the hotel treated you as if you were made of glass, not wanting you to lift too much on your plate, so they did their best to cater to your every need and demand (not that you needed much and bothered them often).
you took care of yourself, too.
though your belly had gotten swollen, you were feeling fine, as if you weren’t carrying the unborn child of the feared radio demon in pride ring. you thanked whoever it is you could thank that you didn’t experience morning sickness, however, you were no exemption from the fatigue and discomfort that came with being pregnant.
lucifer’s worry for your well-being throughout all of this still hasn’t completely faded away. you were his only sister! and his brothers in heaven would surely have his head if something did happen to you now that you’ve fallen from the skies and are now under his domain.
everything was going well, until it wasn’t.
you went with charlie during another meeting with heaven’s official court in place of your brother. obviously, all eyes wandered to your stomach because, how could they not?
a former angel pregnant? that stirred whispers and disgusted expressions from those who were from the court.
“as you can see, the population in hell is—“
charlie was cut off when the angels gasped in unison. confused, she turned to you, and her eyes widened when she saw the bottom half of your dress soaked. 
“oh my go—! aunt yn, your water broke.” she says in a panic.
“i see that, my dear,” you answer with an awkward cough. 
“it seems that i’ll be taking my leave early, uhm... excuse me.”
“wait! uhm, i’ll take you back!” she tells you. “we’ll be back another time, sorry! this is very important for us.” charlie tells the angels present at the court meeting.
alastor swore you were about to snap his hand into two.
“darling, are you nervous?” he asks smoothly.
“no? why would you ask that, al?”
“hmm.”
he glances at the hand that gripped his, remarkably so tight that he feels all the blood from that particular area stop flowing. your free hand caressed your belly through the hospital gown, taking slow and even breaths to somewhat soothe the contractions.
“i was only wondering,” alastor answers.
you may have a high pain tolerance, but when you’re having contractions, you might as well swear on every god and angel to spare you from the agonizing pain—promising to never think of having any children in the future again. 
because, god, it hurts like a bitch.
as calm as you were, lucifer, on the other hand, had no calm bone in his body.
“oh, god. gabriel’s calling,” lucifer says, looking as though he’s about to throw up.
“and the nursery still has renovations that need to be done—“
“i’m going to be an uncle, holy shit—“
“what if something goes wrong? what? no! i shouldn’t think that—“
“should i prepare the gifts—“
“where are the doctors and nurses? they should’ve been here by now—“
“i knew we shouldn’t have taken you to sloth ring, yn—“
“lucifer,” you breathed out. “calm down.”
“i am calm! fucking calm,” he said, wiping away the sweat on his brow. 
“you sound like a dying goat, my lord,” alastor smiled.
“fuck you, deerface.”
“ok, ok. no one should be fighting,” you amusedly sigh, groaning when you feel another sharp contraction that had you biting your lip.
this got the attention of the other two, and lucifer asked you if you were okay as alastor placed a comforting hand on your belly.
well, at least they got along when need be.
“look, she has your eyes and smile, al.”
after long, painful hours of labor and practically dying on your hospital bed due to the procedure of bringing a new life into this hellish world, a healthy baby girl was born.
she took on alastor’s ears, eyes, and smile, while she had your wings and charm. the little fawn was sound asleep in your arms after almost tragically biting off a nurse’s finger when he was checking for anything wrong with your baby—to alastor’s dismay, he wished his little girl had succeeded. 
nevertheless, she is perfect in his eyes already.
“our little fawn is certainly perfect, my dear,” he says. “she has your charm, too.”
“that she does.”
and you best believe charlie and lucifer cried when charlie finally held her baby cousin.
“charlie, dear, are you ok?” you ask, a bit concerned.
“allergies, auntie. allergies,” she sniffled.
nothing would ever happen to her, because anyone who dares even look at the niece of the morningstar fallen angel who was also the daughter of the infamous radio demon, would receive hell served on a golden platter without any remorse or time for rebuttal.
“it may have been inconvenient timing to have my contractions,” you murmur to alastor once you two are finally home and alone with your baby. “but i wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“i’m glad that you’re ok, darling.”
“mm, thank you, alastor.”
“you shouldn’t thank me for worrying about you. it’s only natural for me to do so, no?” he says.
“now, i have to take care of two, but i wouldn’t have it any other way either.”
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yoongiseesawmp3 · 3 months
Text
own my mind - san (m)
summary: part of the idol series. idol!san x producer!reader. san hates you, you're sure of it, and the feeling is pretty mutual. are these feelings true, or does he just need to spend some time getting to know you?
word count: 10.6k
warnings: smut. afab reader. oral (f and m receiving) unprotected sex w pull out method, don't do that. recording during sex, don't do that either.
masterlist
"so the practice rooms are down this hall," your new boss explains as he shows you around kq, "and over here are the boys' studios, but your's will be this way..."
you're trying to take it all in and simultaneously remember where all of the confusing hallways lead. kq may not look like much on the outside, but within it's basically a maze. you keep nodding and smiling as you follow your boss around, politely greeting anybody you encounter. he ends by bringing you into a conference room to finalize some paperwork, and after that you're on your own. you're officially the newest producer at kq, and...you have no idea what to do next.
you step out of the conference room and try your hardest to remember which direction leads back to the studios, but you also need coffee. you remember where the kitchen is, so you head that way as you text your friend jen. she recommended you for this job, and she promised she'd say hi on your first day. she's one of the make up artists for ateez, so she's always around, but her schedule is a little more frantic than yours. you understand if she doesn't answer right away, so you send the text and forget about it. you take a moment to yourself in the company kitchen as you try to figure out the coffee machine, letting your thoughts wander.
are you really cut out for this? it's your first day and you already feel overwhelmed. do they expect you to just go into your studio and start producing? what kind of tracks do they have planned for the next album? will the current producers even let you touch anything important, or will you have to prove yourself first? you're thinking about all this and more when someone bursts into the kitchen with a screech.
"Y/N!!!" jen yells as she scoops you into a hug. "you're here! it's finally happening!"
"this isn't very professional," you laugh as you hug her back. "you're helping me make a bad first impression."
"not possible, i've been talking about how great you are for months," she smiles. "they're gonna love you, seriously. i can't wait to hear what you make."
"what if i suck though?" you ask, but jen shakes her head.
"don't do that. no negativity on your first day."
"whatever."
"so what are you doing first?" she asks, taking the coffee you just brewed and having a sip for herself.
"dude, that was mine," you cry, and she hands it back to you with a half assed apology. "um, what am i doing first...well, i got confused on my welcome tour, so i guess i'll wander around until i figure out where my studio is."
"oh i can show you," jen brushes you off. "it's not that confusing, you just need to walk it all a few times. lots of doors, but you'll get the hang of it."
"do you want to make your own coffee, or can you show me around right now?" you ask as you finish doctoring up your mug.
"i can just have another sip of yours," she says as she reaches for it, but you hold it just out of reach as someone else walks in.
"hey jen," hongjoong greets her, his eyes falling to you next. "are you y/n? i've been summoned to help you get started."
"thank god," you sigh in relief. "i wasn't sure what to do, so i appreciate it. it's nice to meet you, finally."
"likewise," he smiles. "i'm a big fan of your work."
"really?" you feel yourself blush. "thank you. you were one of the reasons i started producing, so that means a lot."
"really?" now it's hongjoong's turn to blush. "well, that's...nice."
"great," jen claps her hands, easing over the awkward silence. "you can show y/n her studio and the two of you can keep gushing about how great you both are." she turns to you and puts her hands on your shoulders, giving you a playful shake. "you're gonna do great things here. be nice to yourself. and uhhh, go team!"
"thanks jen," you laugh as you wave goodbye, following a respectable distance behind hongjoong. he looks back to make sure he hasn't lost you and motions for you to come closer.
"no need to be shy," he tells you. "we'll need to be pretty comfortable with each other considering how close we'll be working together."
"how often will i be working with you?"
"mmm, every day maybe?" he thinks about it. "in the beginning at least. you'll shadow me for a few days to see how the studios run, and then you'll sort of report to me with whatever you're working on. hopefully we won't get tired of each other."
"i don't think that'll be an issue," you assure him. you catch the tips of his ears turning red and you smile to yourself. "so, what makes a good producer here?"
you watch in admiration as hongjoong explains the creativity and collaboration that makes kq work so well, and you kick yourself for getting distracted again. you were supposed to be watching your surroundings, keeping an eye out for where to go to find your studio, but you can't help it. in this moment, it hits you: you get to make music with one of your favorite producers for one of your favorite artists. you must be dreaming, right?
if this is a dream, you're knocked out of it abruptly. while you were watching hongjoong, you weren't watching where you were going, and you walked right into the human equivalent of a brick wall. you spill your coffee everywhere, but don't worry, most of it lands on the most handsome man you've ever seen in your entire life. you're currently staring at choi san, singer of ateez and one of your new coworkers. he's looking down at you, a little bit of shock in his eyes, and you rush to correct the situation.
"oh, shit, i'm sorry," you apologize. you look to hongjoong for help and he's running off to find napkins, leaving you with a very buff man in a soaking wet white t shirt. "i am so so sorry, really, here, let me try to-"
"don't worry about it," san takes a step back. he starts to walk away, but you follow behind him.
"at least let me-"
"i said don't worry about it," he tries again, his tone calm but his eyes tell a different story. he's glaring down at you, which makes your blood boil. he has a right to be mad at you for spilling coffee on him, but why's he pissed at you for trying to help clean him up?
"sure, go drip coffee all down the hallway then," you grumble as you brush past him. "i'll tell hongjoong to follow the trail when he comes back with your napkins."
"fine," san sighs, stopping where he stands. he throws his hands up and asks, "happy?"
"sure."
"who are you anyway?" he mumbles to himself, looking you up and down. you feel his eyes linger, and it makes goosebumps rise over your skin. you take that as a further sign that this guy is getting on your nerves.
"i'm y/n, i'm the new producer," you answer. "nice to meet you."
"you spill coffee on all of your coworkers, y/n?" he asks, and you roll your eyes.
"i said i was sorry-"
"here's hongjoong," san cuts you off. he reaches out for the napkins and smiles at his bandmate. "thanks man."
"so you've met y/n," hongjoong chuckles, trying to ease the tension. "she's really great, we're lucky to have her on the team." san doesn't reply, just nods and sends you a tightlipped smile as he dabs at his ruined t shirt. the fabric is basically translucent now, showing san's tan skin below and the definition of every single muscle. hongjoong clocks the way your eyes are trailing over san's torso and he clears his throat. "um, should we continue our tour?"
"yeah, sorry," you gesture for him to lead the way, and you hold san's gaze as you walk away. he's a dick, you think. that'll be fun.
-
"so is san always an asshole?" you yell over the loud music to jen as you follow her to a table. she insisted on taking you out for drinks to celebrate your first day, and after the morning you had, you need this.
"is he what?!" she shouts back.
"an asshole!"
"san?" she looks at you bewildered. "he's a sweetheart!"
"are we talking about the same guy?"
"are we?" jen questions as she finally pulls you to a table in the back. it's a little quieter back here, so you don't have to shout, but the music will still drown out your conversation so no one can eavesdrop. once you're both settled, she takes a sip of her drink and then, "spill."
"nothing to spill, i just think san is mean and i hate him," you say simply. "i spilled coffee on him, totally an accident, but he was a huge dick about it. wouldn't let me help him, didn't really introduce himself...it all felt off."
"to be fair, i would've been pissed if you had spilled coffee on me when we met," jen points out.
"yeah, but you would've been nicer in the aftermath," you shake your head. "it's whatever. i hopefully won't have to work that closely with him."
"and what about hongjoong?" jen wiggles her eyebrows. "i hear you two hit it off."
"he's nice," you smile shyly. "made my first day a lot easier. he was really patient with all my questions, which helped ease my nerves."
"he's really good at that," jen nods. she goes into a story about her first meeting with hongjoong, and it makes you laugh and endears you to the man more. she tells you stories of the other members, none of whom you met today, but now you're excited to get to know them. "they're all really nice, especially san and yunho. i feel like they're the ones that always check up on everybody-"
"san?"
"yes, your mortal enemy," she rolls her eyes. "he's a good guy, i promise. you just need to make up for the coffee thing and i think you'll be on his good side."
"i'll think about that," you mumble, taking a sip of your drink that almost drains the glass. "so who's this guy you're seeing?"
"whoa, looks like you need another one!" jen deflects. she grabs your glass and runs off to the bar to get another round, leaving you to sit and stew on your own. if san was such a nice guy, why was he only rude to you? it sounds like he isn't mean to other newbies, so it can't be some kind of hazing. whatever dislike he holds for you is personal, and that's making you even angrier. when jen comes back with your new drink she says, "you look mad. what did i miss?"
"can you find out why san hates me?" you ask, and you swear jen would punch you if she could reach across the table.
"he doesn't hate you!! you just made a bad impression! stop making him a villain," she begs you. "man, you're so obsessed with him. maybe someone has a crush?"
"please," you scoff. "just because he has muscles doesn't make up for his shit personality."
"so you like his muscles," jen smirks. "tell him that tomorrow, it'll boost his ego."
"i'm not listening to you anymore."
"but i have so much knowledge to share!" she whines, and you let jen tell you all the do's and don'ts of working at kq as the night goes on. maybe you'll take her advice and try to patch things up with san in the morning. could be worth a shot, right?
-
the next day, you're in one of the bigger studios to help hongjoong with a vocal arrangement. since the last album did so well with the unit songs, you and hongjoong wanted to experiment a little further. you excitedly told hongjoong about your hopes to compose and produce a harmony heavy vocal track, and he was all for it. you worked on the music for it last night, bringing about half of the song to hongjoong for you to play around with today. you both agreed it'd be good to have a guide version ready before you share it with the entire vocal line, so seonghwa offered to help out, too. he's in the booth now as you and hongjoong instruct him from your seats behind the soundboard. he finishes the final layer for the first harmony, and you wait as hongjoong lines it all up. he plays the snippet for you and seonghwa, and you notice both boys are waiting for your reaction.
"that was great, seonghwa," you encourage him. "i really liked it, but..."
"don't be shy," hongjoong nudges you, "he can take it."
"i can," seonghwa agrees. "give it to me straight. did it suck?"
"no, it was really beautiful actually," you assure him. "but for the melody, could you make it more...monotone? that might sound weird, but we're trying to play with the high and low harmony like they're the angel and devil sitting on your shoulder, and for those to stand out the melody needs to be less...captivating."
"you hear that? she thinks your voice is captivating," hongjoong smiles to seonghwa, and he beams at you.
"i get that," he nods. "can i try it another way?"
you help hongjoong reset, and then seonghwa tries another layer in a sadder voice. it's just as powerful, but will be the perfect conduit for the story you're trying to tell. when he finishes, they look to you again and find you smiling proudly.
"that was it," you nod. "great job."
"thanks boss," seonghwa says as he steps out of the booth. "who do you want me to bring in next?"
"you can call san, we'll get him to do the high part and then-"
"san?" you look at hongjoong. "i thought seonghwa was doing the guide vocals."
"well, usually we could do with just one voice, but this song would work best with three distinct voices," hongjoong explains. "i don't think the guys would get it if it's harder to distinguish the different levels, you know?"
"right," you agree, just a little dejected.
"so..." seonghwa trails off. "should i go get him?"
"yeah, tell him to meet us here in ten," hongjoong tells him. seonghwa says his goodbyes and then hoongjoong turns to you. "you alright?"
"i'm good," you reply. "feel a little in over my head, but good."
"you're doing great," hongjoong says, placing his hand over yours on the desk. "it's a lot to jump into, and i'm sorry if it seemed like i was-"
"no, i needed the insight-"
"because i value your opinion-"
"i know that-"
"and-" hongjoong is cut off from finishing his thought because the studio door opens to reveal san. he's wearing another skin tight t shirt, black this time, so even if you spilled another coffee on him it would be harder to notice. he's paired it with a beanie and baggy black pants, and if what you're seeing is correct, he's not wearing any underwear. he stands there staring at you both before his eyes fall to your hand still beneath hongjoong's, and the two of you separate like you've just been shocked.
"i'm not interrupting anything, am i?" san asks suspiciously, and you viciously shake your head as hongjoong tells san to get into the booth. he explains the idea to san and queues up seonghwa's melody as san struggles to put the headphones on over his hat, so you lean into the mic and suggest, "try taking the hat off, maybe?"
"thanks, big help," he says sarcastically. he listens anyway, tossing his beanie away like he's mad at it. "so what am i doing? copying hwa?"
"no," you say sternly. "you're singing the high harmony. we'll layer it over seonghwa's vocals, but your voice needs to be distinct. you can practice if you want-"
"i don't need to practice," san cuts you off, staring daggers at you. "just play it." he keeps his eyes on you as he listens, and you feel nervous. he's listening to your song, your lyrics, and you think you see the slightest flicker of emotion in his eyes as seonghwa's voice fades. he doesn't comment on it, just continues staring at you and says, "yeah, got it. you can record this."
"let's listen to it first, and then record the next one," you tell hongjoong, and he nods in agreement. you watch san get ready, and then you hear the most beautiful falsetto flowing over your track. it makes you emotional, and it's another instance of the coolness of your job hitting you. you're so mesmerized you miss san finishing on a bit of a creative note, so the boys are staring, waiting for your input.
"y/n?" hongjoong calls your name. "what'd you think?"
"that was," you clear your throat, "that was perfect, san."
"great," he nods, taking the headphones off, but you stop him.
"ah, we need to record it," you remind him, and you catch his groan through the mic.
"i thought i said to record that one?"
"you don't decide that," you reply, and hongjoong tries to diffuse.
"she has a specific vision for the song, so we wanted to hear you first and then decide if there were any notes before we record you."
"what's the vision?" san asks you, and he listens intently as you explain. when you're done, he takes a deep breath and says clearly into the mic, "that sounds stupid. but i'll do it again. make sure you're recording this time."
"whatever you say, asshole," you mumble, angrily getting the track ready for his bratty voice. you wish you could stay mad at him, but as soon as he starts to sing you're enchanted. again, you get distracted by his voice, the emotion in it and all over his face as he sings, and you think, if he says your idea was stupid, why was he putting so much heart into just a guide vocal? he finishes and you thank him, saving the track quickly before you turn to hongjoong and inform him you need a water break. he's left in the studio with san as he saunters out, but hongjoong meets him at the door.
"what's your problem?" he barks, livid at the way san was treating you during that session.
"uh, you're blocking my exit?" he asks, but that was the wrong thing to say. hongjoong dives into a lecture about respect, and san has to laugh. "oh, you want me to respect the girl who spilled coffee all over me yesterday? who thinks, on her second day, she can tell me how to do my job?"
"she's a producer, her job is to literally tell you what to do-"
"well i'm sorry i hurt your girlfriend's feelings," san spits. "but i did what you asked me to do, so please let me leave." hongjoong steps to the side, still fuming, and san walks out. you catch him in the hall as you return, and you want to stop him, to tell him how great he sounded, but when you lift your hand in greeting he turns the other way and disappears.
-
you get a break from work later that day and find jen making a coffee. she sees you coming and has a cup ready for you to make your own, and you catch up on your days as your coffee brews. you tell her about san's lovely time with you in the studio, and jen listens, but when you finish she asks, "and he was still like this after you said you liked his muscles?"
"i'm not telling him that," you mumble.
"telling who what?" wooyoung asks as he pops around the corner.
"mind your business?" jen replies. "have you met y/n yet? she's the new producer."
"no, but i've heard mixed reviews," wooyoung says as he dramatically shakes your hand. "can't wait to decide which side i'm on."
"there's sides?" you ask nervously.
"yep," he says with a pop on the p. "hongjoong and seonghwa worship the ground you walk on. san hates your guts, although i'm not sure why. you seem lovely."
"she is lovely," jen points out.
"hm," wooyoung squints playfully. "guess we'll have to wait and see."
"what about innocent until proven guilty?" you ask. "just assume you'll like me and then you will!"
"yeah, but san is a good judge of character," wooyoung shakes his head. "if he doesn't like you, then he's got a reason."
"is the reason because he's maleficent?"
"oo, maleficent, i like that," wooyoung coos. he turns to jen and asks, "why don't you use big words like that?"
"i'm afraid you wouldn't get them," she sighs.
"try me, i'm full of surprises baby," he winks at her before smacking her ass and walking away. you watch in confusion, and she waves it off.
"don't worry, he does that sometimes."
"to everybody?!"
"just to me," she shrugs, and then it clicks.
"he's your fling," you smile. "very nice."
"nuh uh."
"no, he totally is. that's elmo," you piece it together. "is that his nickname because of his laugh?"
"you were never supposed to meet him," jen defends herself.
"so getting me a job here wouldn't interfere with that?"
"i figured i could keep it a secret," she pouts.
"you did! for a whopping 36 hours, good job!"
"don't patronize me," she complains. "i could call san and have him here in seconds-"
"oh man, i need to go record something," you frown, "maybe you two could talk though? figure out why he's got an all burning hatred for me, an angel?"
"i'll get to the bottom of it," jen says, and you realize the error you've just made.
"wait, no, don't talk to him, please," you beg.
"too late, you've asked for my help, so i'll help," jen concedes easily. "he'll either love you or simply tolerate you by the end of the week, i promise."
"great, thanks..."
-
you've made it through your first week, yippee! you really like it here, you fit in well with the members, and the producers seem to really like your ideas. the only problem is san. you enter a room that he's in and it goes quiet. he passes you in the hall, and you're fuming for the rest of the day. everyone knows about your little rivalry at this point, but no one understands where it came from. even jen, who was determined to make you and san best friends, has lost hope.
you're able to make it a couple days without any more san run ins, and for that you are grateful. you and hongjoong have made a lot of progress on the vocal line track, and he's invited you to a few writing sessions with mingi for the rap line track. you're feeling invincible after one of those sessions, walking back to your studio, when you get the scare of your life. you enter the code to your studio, guard completely down, and jump out of your skin when you see someone sitting at your desk.
"what the fuck?!" you shriek, using the door as a shield. you peek around it and see that it's not an intruder. well, at least not one that wants to hurt you. maybe. it's san, so this interaction could go in any direction.
"hello," he says simply. "nice way to greet your guest."
"how'd you get into my studio?" you ask as you close the door. you wonder if you should keep it cracked open, just in case you and san get into it and you need a witness that he probably started it.
"i needed to ask you a question," san responds instead, and you cock your head in confusion. "i can't do that?"
"i don't know, can you?"
"your song. the vocal one. how's it going?"
you're surprised this is what he wanted to talk about but, honestly, what else were you expecting? this is a normal work interaction, you think. you're just not used to having those with san. since san is sitting in your desk chair, you pull your stool over to the desk pathetically and perch on top of it as you shoot san a glare.
"can you move over? i need to get to my keyboard."
"aw, can't reach over my muscles?" san teases, and you feel your blood run cold.
"what?"
"my muscles? little birdie told me you liked them."
"what are you doing in my studio, san."
"i wanted to hear your song," he shrugs. you wait for him to move out of the way, but apparently that's not happening. you grumble as you lean over him and type, pulling the project file up on your screen. you check the volume before you hit play and look back to see san watching you intently. he's close, your arms brushing and his head only a few inches from yours. you hold his gaze for a second and then hit play, sitting back as you watch him listen. you can't read his expression as the song plays, but you don't care what he has to say. you love this song, and you think it's turning out great. whatever he has to say isn't important to you-
"wow," he whistles. "i get it now."
"get what?"
"why you're so pretentious about your work," san smirks as he side eyes you.
"is that supposed to be an insult?" you ask, trying to gauge his reaction.
"not really," he shakes his head.
"well it's not a compliment," you tell him.
"i'll work on that," he says as he stands. he puts his hands on your desk to support himself as he rises, and you swear to god, he's flexing his arms a ridiculous amount. nobody needs that much upper body strength just to get out of a rolley chair.
"hey!" you call as he walks away. "what the hell?"
"do you have to curse all the time?" san asks with look of distaste. "it's not very polite."
"nor are you."
"nice," he nods. "well, i'll be around-"
"no, wait, why'd you come in here?" you ask as you follow him out of your studio. "you just wanted to listen to the song?"
"yeah?" he shrugs, turning to face you in the hallway. he's standing so close you have to lean back to look at him properly, and you frown.
"i don't believe you."
"why not?" san smirks. "you wanted me in your studio for another reason?"
"no-"
"you're not the only one who likes to stare, doll," he says quietly, leaning down so his ears are just barely brushing your ear. he straightens back up before you can melt into a puddle on the floor, and then he smiles what might be his first genuine smile in your presence. "so maybe i didn't just come here for the song. but now i've heard it, and i know don't hate it, so i think we're done here."
and with that very confusing information, san walks away.
-
san is tired. he's been practicing for their seoul concert since the early hours of the morning, and he needs a break. it's almost an acceptable time to eat lunch, so he grabs his things and starts the short walk to his favorite convenience store. he likes this one because it's got a seating area in the back where he can eat, giving him some time to himself. it's secluded enough he doesn't have to worry about being bothered, but it has a good view of the street outside so he can people watch. it's the perfect spot for him to rest and enjoy his food, so he leaves the company with a pep in his step.
he grabs all of his favorites, moving on autopilot, and pays for them quickly. he takes everything back to his usual table and prepares his feast. now that he's stopped working, he feels the tiredness in his bones and realizes how hungry he actually was. when did he eat last? was it dinner? that was more than twelve hours ago, so maybe he can get away with eating another ramen before he goes...
san is considering whether or not he should get up and grab more food as he stares through the store window. there's people rushing to work, couples going to lunch, families wrangling kids. he watches with a smile as one family, a mother and father, try to handle what looks like a girl and two twins. that job is way harder than anything he's doing as an idol, he thinks. he watches fondly as they walk away, and when he turns back, his smile falls.
you and hongjoong are crossing the street, engaged in some conversation that's making you both laugh. you make a joke that sends a laugh crashing up from within hongjoong's chest, and san scoffs as he watches you stare in admiration. hongjoong rushes forward and opens the door to the convenience store for you, and san hears the end of your sentence as you enter.
"-didn't have to do that," san catches, and he hears hongjoong make a dismissive sound in response. "wow, there's a lot of food here."
"you see why we like this place so much," hongjoong responds. san can't see you, but your voices are getting closer. "there's something for everyone."
"there's so much, i don't know what to pick..." you trail off.
"get whatever you want," hongjoong says. "it's on me."
"what? no-"
"ah ah, no arguments. consider it a welcome gift."
"well thank you," san hears you squeak, and he can just imagine the way you must be blushing, looking at hongjoong so shyly, pretending to be coy-
"oh, hey san," hongjoong greets. you come to a stop behind him, bumping into his back, and san has to laugh. "didn't know you were here."
"didn't tell anyone i was leaving," san shrugs. he leans over, trying to catch your eye, and waves. "hi y/n."
"hi san."
"are you eating here?" san asks, and hongjoong shakes his head.
"ah, no, we were just taking a break," he replies. "i was going to buy us lunch and then we're gonna head back."
"got it," san nods, still looking at you. "carry on then."
"thanks for your permission," you mumble, holding onto the back of hongjoong's shirt as he turns you down another aisle. he starts looking for a snack he wants you try, but he can't see it. he looks up, eyes flitting around the store, and his face lights up.
"oh! it's over there! be right back!" he runs off, and you continue scanning the shelves. you're not that hungry, but you know you won't have time to leave again, so you need to get enough food for lunch and dinner probably. you're reading the ingredients on one of the prepackaged meals when you feel a presence behind you. turning, you see san looming above, and you jump.
"shit," you hiss. "wear a bell."
"need help pronouncing the big words?" he asks.
"yeah, come closer and let me show you."
"you having fun?" san sneers, and your confused expression makes him clarify, "with your boyfriend."
"what?"
"oh come on, letting him buy your lunch, holding onto him like that...you're eating it up, aren't you?"
"i don't know what you mean," you say as you step around san, but your face is red. he's getting to you.
"it's cute, really," he says, beating you to the end of the aisle. he puts his arm out, effectively blocking your way, and he continues staring down at you in that frustrating way of his. like he wants to swallow you whole. "how long do you think it'll last?"
"if you're asking about my patience i'm afraid that ship sailed a while ago," you try to fight back, but san just laughs.
"you're cute, you know? you try to be so tough, but it doesn't work. i see right through you."
"and what do you see?" you ask as you cross your arms. san bares his teeth, ready to quip back, but his eyes catch on something behind you. you look over your shoulder and see hongjoong holding up a bag, a confused look in his eyes.
"found the sweet potatoes," he says as he approaches. "what are you doing?"
"getting to know our coworker," san says nonchalantly, removing himself from your personal space. "i'll let you go. my food's getting cold."
"sure," hongjoong says skeptically, reaching for you. he tries to guide you away with his hand at your back, but you can feel san's eyes still on you. you turn and his hand politely falls away, but san's eyes follow you through the rest of the store. he gets an idea when you go back to the drink coolers, so san finishes his food quickly and heads to the front.
when you and hongjoong are finally ready to pay, you go to the register and hongjoong reaches for his wallet. the woman behind the counter shakes her head, showing a stack of bills to tell you it's been taken care of. you look around and find san halfway out the door, a wicked smile on his face. he waves at you teasingly before the door dings closed, and hongoong happily takes the food, babbling about how nice san is as you leave.
-
later that day, the boys are getting fitted for their tour outfits. each practice room has been converted into a walk in closet + vanity combo, so you peek your head in to see how it's going. jen spots you and waves you over to her station, and you duck through the racks of clothes to say hi to your friend. you're taken aback when you see who she's working on, but jen laughs and assures you it's ok.
"he won't bite, he's asleep," she says about the pouting san she's working on currently. "he was here all night, apparently. he knocked out before i could even say hi."
"are you sure he's asleep and not faking it?" you ask as you tentatively sit in the chair next to him. it's enough distance away that you're not concerned by the proximity, but you keep an eye on him as you talk. "maybe he doesn't want to talk."
"hey, san likes me, so i know he's not faking it," jen tells you. "he and i get along really well."
"congratulations," you mumble as you reach for a makeup brush to play with. "so how was your day?"
you and jen catch up as she works on san, periodically asking for your opinion on the look she's created for him. you know she's trying to get you to say something nice about him, to slip up and call him handsome or sexy, but you won't budge. all the compliments you give are very makeup forward, but she won't let up. she's also not being gentle in her application, so you really are afraid san is awake and listening. she's almost done with him when wooyoung walks up, greeting you happily.
"hey y/n!" he chirps. "nice to see you! you're in my seat."
"oh, my bad," you scramble to get up. you got comfortable, your feet propped on one of the giant makeup cases before you. jen puts a hand out to stop you, turning to wooyoung with a trying-to-be-stern look in her eyes.
"my friend and i are not done talking."
"well your boss told me to come over here and get my makeup done, so unless you want me to stand..." wooyoung trails off as jen finishes with san's face. she turns to him and nods.
"standing is fine," she says, quickly getting to work on wooyoung's base layer. "i'll work fast so you don't have to stand long."
"but then i don't get to bug you as long," wooyoung whines.
"life's cruel like that, huh?"
"come on, i know i'm your favorite part of this job," wooyoung teases, and you share a silent laugh with him as jen blushes profusely. once wooyoung catches your eye, his attention turns to you, and he asks, "what about you, y/n? now that you've been here a few days, what's your favorite part of this job?"
"san's abs," jen answers for you, and you try your best to kick her. you accidentally nudge san's chair and freeze, but he doesn't stir.
"oh yeah? let's tell him-"
"no!" you shout, and if he wasn't awake now he definitely is. he still doesn't move, but you continue in a softer voice, "um, no. don't do that. uhh, my favorite part of the job...i don't wanna be a kiss ass, but it's probably working with hongjoong."
"of course it is," san mumbles, and even though he spoke quietly it makes you jump. he opens his eyes and your skin sets fire as soon as he looks at you. "you're in wooyoung's chair."
"he's having jen time," you counter. "let him enjoy it."
"yeah, let me enjoy it!" wooyoung agrees.
"san, what do you think of the eye makeup i did? tried something new," jen says as she focuses on wooyoung's eyes now. san sits up and looks in the mirror, but he's not looking at himself. he's watching you pretend like a strand on your sweater is the most interesting thing in the world, so he decides to call your attention.
"y/n? what do you think?" san asks, and you meet his gaze through the mirror. you're shocked to realize he's checking you out, blatantly, your cardigan falling off your shoulder to reveal your bra underneath. you were in a rush this morning and thought that would be enough. surely no one would notice you weren't wearing a tank, since this bra could pass as long as your sweater stayed up. but right now it's not, so san can see an entire cup, and he's almost drooling. instead of answering his question you look over at jen and repeat your earlier compliments as you pull your sweater tight around your torso.
"yeah, it looks good," you say again. "now that he's awake and you can see his eyes, you did a good job, uh, highlighting them."
"eloquent," san chides, and this time you intentionally kick his chair. he grabs your ankle before you can pull back, and tugs, bringing you closer.
"big word," wooyoung whispers, and you can hear jen smack him as you lift your eyes to san's. he's looking at you with that hungry gaze you're coming to get used to, and he rewords his question.
"what do you like about it specifically?" he tries as he leans in, and you hold your breath as you stare. this is closer than you've ever been, and you can smell hints of cologne that have your head spinning. alarms are going off in your head to run, but with san's hand still on your leg, you're trapped.
"you drool in your sleep, you know that?" you decide to say, ignoring his question completely. he's surprised enough that his grip on you loosens and you're able to bolt from the chair, grabbing your things as you say a quick goodbye to jen and wooyoung. they're watching on, amused with your little show, and when you're fully out of the room san collapses back into the chair with a groan.
"she's right," jen says. "i had to get napkins to mop up your spit."
"sorry," san grumbles.
"when are you gonna tell her?" wooyoung asks, and san makes a confused sound to encourage him to explain. "y/n. when are you gonna say that you're into her?"
"i'm not into her," san rolls his eyes.
"yeah, right," wooyoung laughs. "and me and jen aren't fucking."
"hey!" and another smack. they continue bickering as san stares at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes falling to the chair you just occupied.
-
the next few days, you spend a lot of time in your studio. too much maybe, but you need to get this vocal track finished. all the boys have recorded their parts, and now it's down to you to get the final mix to the other producers by monday. it's friday now, and you know you can't pull any all nighters this weekend - the boys want you to come to their shows, so you'd like to be finished with the track before you leave today.
it's weird, being here so late at night. you think you're the last one left, hongjoong left with the rest of the members and the producers started trickling out about two hours ago. you don't mind being here on your own, you know the security is fine, but it's still eerie. when you got another coffee just now, you caught yourself jumping at the slightest sounds. you could've sworn you heard footsteps following you, but after investigating you realized it was the sound of your own that scared you. you hunker down for another spell in your studio, and you get a lot closer to the product you want. hongjoong kept telling you it didn't need to be perfect, it still had to go through critiques so it would probably change a lot, but you can't let your first project here be a mess. it at least needs to meet your standards, so you keep working.
you're not sure how much later it is, but you wake yourself when your head falls off your propped up arm. you fell asleep listening to the final track, wanting to check for any mistakes, so you don't know how long it's been looping while you slept. you listen through one last time, almost satisfied, but you hear something that sounds off. you try another listen, and realize it's not coming from your speakers, it's coming from somewhere else.
heart racing, you press your ear to the door of your studio and curse the sound proofing. you can make out a noise, but not enough to figure out what it is from the safety of this room. you look around for a weapon, something to protect you, and all you see are stray wires. you find one long enough and wrap it around your fists, pulling the wire taught between them. worst case scenario you garrote the intruder and then call for help, but you're being dramatic. whatever is out there can't be a threat, can it?
you open your studio door and follow the sound. in your tired state, you recognize a song, but you can't place it or where it's coming from. you tiptoe down the hall toward the practice rooms, and spy light coming from a door at the end of the hall. so it must be one of the members, you think. or maybe the bb trippin guys came early to prep for the show. whatever it is, you keep walking, aware now that the song you heard is wake up, one of your favorites. the boys were cryptic about the setlist, wanting it to be a surprise for you this weekend, but you get excited at the thought of what kind of mystical performance they could do for this song. when you reach the door, you stop cold, seeing maybe the last person you expected it to be.
san is dancing, quite sexually, to the music bumping through the speakers. he's in baggy sweats and a tank top that shows off his figure and his ridiculously chiseled muscles, and you can't help it. you stare, watching in awe as he drops it low and grinds around to a song you never expected to be portrayed like this. as he's on the ground, a tie hanging from his teeth, his eyes flick to yours through the mirror. you gasp, and he smirks, somehow able to catch the sound of your breath hitching over the loud music. he feels proud of himself, knowing he's got you so shocked, but when he finishes the portion he's working on, he looks to the mirror and you're gone.
you're rushing down the hall back to your studio. what the fuck was that. you had a physical reaction to san, and not a good one. and he saw you! that's humiliating, you'll never be able to look at him again-
"where ya goin doll?" his deep voice asks. he's right behind you, and before you can sprint off to your studio, he grabs your shoulders and pushes you against the nearest door. when you come face to face, he's breathing heavy, and you assume that's because of the intense choreography he just worked through. little do you know, being this close to you, smelling that annoying perfume that follows you around, touching you, all of this is taking his breath away. his hands trail down your shoulders to your hands, and he looks at you quizzically when he finds the wire wrapped tightly in your fists. "what's this?"
"i, uh, i thought i was the only one here? so when i heard something i looked for uh. i wanted something to protect myself with," you explain, embarrassed by how dramatic that sounds.
"you're a badass," san chuckles, lifting your hands by the wire hanging between them.
"i thought cursing wasn't polite," you remind him of his own words, and he laughs again.
"i just said that to piss you off."
"you're insufferable," you groan, trying to twist away from the man in front of you.
"and you're in a bit of a pickle, aren't you?" he smiles at you evilly. "can't get away, little kitten?"
"let go of me, san," you say steadily, but he just keeps smiling.
"why would i? i've finally got you right where i want you."
"what?" you breathe out.
"you couldn't tell? i've wanted you since i laid eyes on you."
"wanted me?" you scoff. "i'm not a steak."
"but you went and spilled that coffee on me, and then you were so delightful during our recording session, i just kept falling harder and harder for you," he teases.
"you're shit at showing how you feel."
"and you're shit at hiding how you feel," he smirks. "i know you want me, doll. that's why i acted the way i did. it was fun messing with you, letting you think i hated you. wanted to see how far i could push it."
"that's so middle school of you san," you complain, pushing your finger into his chest. "if you were a real man you would've done something about this already instead of playing a bunch of games."
"if i was a real man?" he chuckles lowly, and he's so close you feel it in your stomach. "baby, you haven't been with a real man til you've been with me."
"prove it," you whisper, but your breath gets caught as san pulls your hands above your head by the wire still wrapped around them. he holds your wrists in place as his other hand squeezes your waist, and he watches you squirm with glee in his eyes.
"prove it? you sure you can handle me doll?"
"do your your worst," you smirk, and then he's crashing his lips to yours. the kiss is fierce, all teeth and tongue, and you gasp as his hand travels up your waist and beneath your shirt. he traces the skin beneath your hoodie, smirking into your lips when he discovers you're not wearing a bra.
"i like it when you make things easy for me," he breathes out against your neck, his lips making their way across your skin and leaving little marks as he pleases. his hand beneath your shirt traces beneath each breast before leaving a featherlight trail to your nipple, and he surprises you with a quick pinch. you gasp again, giving him a chance to return his lips to your mouth and press his tongue past your lips. he kisses you one last time before pulling from your lips, asking, "should we take this inside?"
"wha?" you murmur, twisting to look at the door behind you. "but, san, this isn't my studio-"
"i know, it's hongjoong's," he says as he punches the code in. "he won't mind."
"i do!" you squeak out as san opens the door and pushes you inside. "san, seriously, we're not having sex in here!"
"we're having sex?" san teases, and you use your newly released hands to beat against his chest. "take that stupid wire off, baby. you're gonna need your hands."
"for what?" you grumble, listening to him anyway. when your hands are free, you notice the little indents left from the wire, and san surprises you by taking your hands into his softly. his thumb rubs over the raw skin, and he stares darkly at you as he lifts your hands to his lips. he kisses over the sore spots and up your wrists, whining cutely when he hits the fabric of your shirt.
"take this off," he tugs on your sleeve, and you shake your head.
"only if you take your shirt off too," you counter, and he easily lets go of you to remove his tank top. you hate the way you're staring, but you can't help it. he's beautiful, and you're mesmerized. he calls your name, the first time he's said it all night, and you find his eyes staring at you softly. "right, sorry," you mumble, pulling your hoodie off, not so accidentally catching it on your tits so they release with a bounce. san groans as he watches on, and then his hands are on you again, cupping your tits and teasing your nipples. you moan softly, reaching for his head to pull him into another kiss. your hands wrap around to his neck, one sweeping down to feel his soft, sweaty skin. you trace over the muscles in his chest, the lines of his abs, and end at his waistband. his hand reaches down to stop you before you can continue, and he pulls back to ask, "do you trust me?"
"do i trust you? not completely," you answer honestly. "maybe you don't hate me as much as you made me believe, but i still think you're despicable."
"if i'm so despicable why are you letting me use you like a toy?" he jokes, pushing you down into hongjoong's desk chair. "if you trust me, i want you to do something for me. if you don't, tell me to shut up, and we'll go back to having sex. but it'll be more boring that way."
"can i get that in writing, you saying that sex with you is boring?" you tease, and san growls as he captures your lips in another kiss. he's caging you in, and when he releases your lips, he leans his forehead against yours as he speaks.
"start a new file on his computer," san says lowly. "and hit record when i say."
"you're kidding."
"like i said, do it if you trust me," he shrugs, his hands moving from the armrests to your waist. he starts tugging your pants down as he continues. "if you don't trust me, then we just fuck like normal and go on with our lives."
"san, i-"
"are you gonna make the file?" he asks, kneeling in front of you. you open and close your mouth like a fish, but then you're moving without thinking. you twist in his hold, punching in hongjoong's password and finding the mixing app. you start a new project, label it inconspicuously, and then settle back in the chair. san is looking at you proudly, and he praises you, "good girl."
"what now?" you ask quietly, and san separates your legs further. he starts kissing up your leg, starting at your knee, and when he gets to your panties, he whispers, "i make you come."
he pulls yours panties down then, hissing as he watches your arousal cling to the fabric, and he smiles. "oh, she's pretty."
"i didn't know you were capable of giving me a compliment," you quip, and san bites your thigh to shut you up.
"wasn't talking to you," he says against your skin, leaving kisses along the inside of your thigh until he reaches your core. he brings his hands up to spread you open for him, and he stares in admiration at how wet you are, just for him. he leans in and you wait to feel his lips, his tongue, something, but instead you feel something wet land on your clit. san spit on your pussy, and he brings his hand up to rub the sensitive spot as he blows on your entrance.
"i thought you said you were gonna make me come," you whine, and he nods.
"i will. when i want to."
"san-" you whimper, lifting your hips as he continues playing with your clit and neglecting the rest of you.
"you want more doll?" he asks, his eyes staring at you darkly. you look down at him and nod, but he pinches your thigh in response. "words, baby."
"want more, san," you groan. "need your tongue."
"hit record and i'll give you what you want," he smirks below you, and you're so horny you can't even think about fighting back. you turn around and press record, san's lips finding your clit immediately. he licks over the bundle of nerves, prodding a finger at your entrance as he listens to your sweet moans. he fucks his finger into you once, twice, then adds another. you whine above him, your hands catching on his hair as you try to push him closer. he licks up every drop of you, fucking you on his fingers, and moans into your pussy for good measure. the vibration seends you reeling, and you whisper out, "fuck, san."
"who?"
"san, fuck! feels so good."
"yeah? you wanna come?" he asks, leaning his head on your thigh as he stares at you writhing above him. you're watching him with hooded eyes as he adds another finger, fucking you open for him. you lift your hips again, trying to make him move faster. "d'you still hate me, doll?"
"no," you whisper shyly, and he smiles.
"say it louder."
"i don't hate you," you moan out, his fingers scissoring you open as his lips return to your clit. he sucks harshly, and you let out a whine that turns into a frustrated scream. "faster."
"hm?"
"faster, please," you beg, "please, please, fuck. 'm gonna come."
"let me hear you, baby," he mumbles into your core. "who's making you feel so good?"
"san, you, fuck-" your voice tapers off as you hold your breath and crash into your release. you're clenching around san so deliciously, he groans into your clit and does his best to help you ride out your high. you're trying to catch your breath as. san cleans you up, slurping obscenely, and in your post-nut clarity you realize what you've done. you turn around, frantically trying to stop the recording, but san stands above you and catches your hands again.
"what are you doing?" he growls, and you blubber out a response.
"he can't, we can't, i have to delete it, i'm not-"
"not what? not enjoying yourself?" san asks. "because i'm looking at a dripping pussy that tells a different story."
"we need to go somewhere else," you hiss, and san shakes his head.
"i think we're doing fine right here," he smirks, kissing you deeply so you can taste yourself on his tongue. you bite his bottom lip as he tries to pull away, and he groans.
"is it my turn now?" you ask, and you watch fire spark across san's eyes.
"your turn to what, baby?"
"drive you insane?" you ask innocently, pushing san away so you can stand. you keep pushing him until he hits the wall, and you drop to your knees. you waste no time pulling his pants down, revealing his lack of underwear. you look up at him and ask, "you makin things easy for me, babe?"
"no," he smirks down at you. "bet you can't even fit it in your mouth."
"you're full of yourself," you point out as you spit into your hand. you bring it to his cock, stroking over his soft skin. "you liked eating me out this much?"
"it wasn't bad," san nods. "wouldn't mind doing it again."
"maybe later," you mumble, bringing his tip to your lips. you spit again, watching as it dribbles down his shaft, you stroke him a few more times, flicking your tongue over his tip teasingly. he's trying so hard not to lose it above you, and the way he's biting his lip to keep quiet pisses you off. without warning, you swallow him whole, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you try to fit him all in your mouth. he cries out above you, his hands tangling in your hair. he pulls you off of him completely, gasping for breath above you. "hey. i wasn't done."
"not gonna last," he says shyly, and you feel your ego grow ten sizes. "need to fuck you."
"eh, i'm getting tired-"
"shut up," he growls, pulling you up by your hair and slamming his lips into yours again. "go bend over his desk."
"you're sick," you tell him, obeying anyway.
"you're into it," san says cockily, adjusting your hips as he comes up behind you. "make sure you're right up to the mic, doll. wanna hear this." you hate yourself for it, but you find the mic in front of you and pull it closer. you feel his hands on your ass, pulling you apart as he stares at your pussy again. "so pretty for me," he sighs, removing a hand to bring his cock to your entrance. he teases your hole a few times, laughing when you jerk back and try to catch his tip. "impatient girl."
"just fuck me," you say clearly, and he responds by giving you exactly what you want. he thrusts into you, splitting you open, and you moan so loud it's embarrassing. san stays still, giving you a minute to adjust, but you start fucking back into him, and he gets the hint. he grabs onto your ass again, and then he's fucking into with no control. your mouth hangs open as he fucks you hard and fast, and san frowns. he smacks your ass and feels you clench around him as he barks, "lemme hear you." so you moan, and whine, and altogether let go. you're a babbling mess, mumbling incoherently about how good it feels, how he fucks you just right, how his cock is perfect, you can't stop. san is eating it up, fucking into you so deep you can feel him in your gut.
too soon, he's pulling out, and you let out a pathetic cry. san pulls you up by your hips, his hands smoothing over your skin, as he explains, "wanna watch you when you come." he helps you sit on hongjoong's desk, lifting your legs up so you're completely exposed to him. he holds your thighs open and tries to fuck back into you, but you have to help him, taking his wet cock and guiding it back to your entrance. he thrusts into you, slotting his hips against yours, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. he should've fucked you like this the whole time, he thinks, because he can't stop staring. you look so perfect, so blissed out, and it spurs him on. he holds one thigh down as his other hand wraps around your waist, holding you in place as he fucks you.
"i'm gonna come, baby," he warns. "where do you want it?"
"my stomach," you gasp out. "wanna see it."
"fuck, you're insane."
"don't slow down," you whine, holding onto san's broad shoulders like your life depends on it. you let him fuck you senseless, clenching around him as you get closer. he brings his hand around to rub his thumb over your clit, and you jerk away in sensitivity. "can't take it, san, gonna come-"
"then come for me," he begs. "need you to come first."
"fuck, san, fuck," you gasp, digging into his shoulders as you hold him in place. you clench around him until he can't take it anymore, and he pulls out, his forehead against yours as you watch him stroke himself. he comes quickly, painting your skin, and you moan breathlessly as you watch him empty himself over you. "fuck, that's hot."
"we should do that again," san smirks at you, and you playfully push against his chest. you leave your hands on him as you respond, "not now. i'm exhausted."
"how long have you been here?" san asks, sudden concern in his voice.
"too long," you sigh, noticing how raw your throat feels. you cough, your back bumping into the mic behind you. "oh shit. i need to turn this off." you look at san as you crouch down, saving the file and sending it to yourself. "what the hell am i supposed to do with this?"
"listen to it when you get lonely?" san jokes, and you push him. "use it in a song, maybe?"
"that would get me fired," you inform him, making sure you've deleted all traces of it from hongjoong's computer. satisfied, you turn to san and cross your arms over your chest. "was this your plan all along? you get me to record a salacious audio and then blackmail me with it?"
"you still think i hate you?" he asks, brushing your hair behind your ear. "bummer. thought we'd moved past that after your first orgasm."
"i'm just saying, if this was an elaborate plan to get me to leave, i commend the effort-"
"y/n," he says softly, and you meet his eyes. they're serious for once, which is odd. "i don't hate you, and i don't want to get you fired."
"good to know," you squeak. his gaze is too intense for you, so you start looking for your clothes and then remember the mess on your stomach. "oh, yuck-"
"here, let me clean you up," san says, searching for tissues. he holds onto you carefully as he wipes up his release, pulling a few extra tissues to clean the mess between your legs.
"see, if you'd just let me help you like this on my first day, we wouldn't have been mortal enemies for so long," you joke.
"yeah, but we wouldn't have fucked like that if i had been nice to you from the start."
"so what now?" you ask as you get dressed. "you said you wanna do that again?"
"don't you?" san asks, his pants halfway up his legs. you unashamedly stare at his cock before you respond, but he's got his answer.
"i mean, if you want-"
"i do," he interjects. "whenever you want me. i'll be there."
"is this what everyone means, when they say you're so nice?" you ask genuinely. san comes over to you, wrapping his hands around your waist before he kisses you.
"guess you'll have to find out, huh?"
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Text
I don't kiss and tell
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Little drabbles where creator!reader gets pregnant and the archons get into a witch hunt
Wc: ~600
Sumeru’s specialty tea is delicious, the lightest taste of anise and black tea with an array of spices that you couldn't even begin to pinpoint. The youngest archon besides you is talking your ear off about the origins and constitution of the tea, the exports it has and how it is different from the teas you tasted in Liyue. 
The only thing souring the atmosphere was the bickering and yelling voices from across the table
“Your dirty citizens are libertine enough to attempt to lie besides a god!” The electro archon points her finger at the anemo archon, her nose scrunched and her teeth bared
“Mine?! I doubt anyone would dare to! At most I imagine they wanted to be close friends!”
The tsaritsa rolls her eyes and mutters something along the lines of ‘very close friends it seems’
“You doubt? You don't sound too sure about that. I'm confident nobody from my nation would dare to make advances on them” zhongli blows on his cup and sips on it
“Didn't the trip get behind schedule around sumeru? I remember Neuvillette was stressed because the welcome had to be rearranged by a week” Furina grabs a piece of cake, playing with the cherry on top.
“ah?!” Nahida gasps as she is chatting with you. She taps her chin ”I can't remember a chance they had alone so I would say it's impossible”
“And why did the trip take an extra week? I was never truly sure about that” zhongli asks her 
“Oh, I was dead set on going to Aaru village and having a quick view to the pyramids” you chuckle a bit, seeing how nahida was upset at the accusations.
“Isn't it weird that Miss Furina is here too? Even if we named it archon meeting it's meant more as a head of state so I was expecting the great judge to be seated here” Raiden points that out
“E-eh?!” She gasps as she leans away from the purple piercing gaze “He was just unable to come so he asked me” 
“Isn't that convenient?”
The tsaritsa sighs and stops tapping her fingers on the wood table. Now looking at you she says “I'm sorry if it's too impolite but can't you cut us the chase and tell us who it was?”
You look away, a tiny strained laugh slipping through your teeth “I think I prefer his safety, thanks” 
“No, thank you”
“At the very least what nation is he from?” 
The next months there was special attention paid to particular carvings or newly acquired habits
“Isn't it curious how they are suddenly so in love with grape juice? Didn't your nation have a winemaker who preferred grape juice?” The tsaritsa asks, a stiff smile painted on her face.
“And didn't they also like a seafood soup that also happened to be one of your harbinger's specialties?” venti matches her energy, already fed up with the fourth accusation 
“Don't make me send someone to kick your ass again”
“I doubt a pile of ashes could put up much of a fight” 
“Our grace has been taking longer walks lately, buer, maybe they are trying to get closer to the dendro element” 
“they told me they wanted to feel the breeze better, that might be it, Beel”
“Why do I get dragged into every discussion?!” Venti yelps from the kitchen
“Doctor baizhu told me to keep an eye on them, the pregnancy seems to have made them crave rocks
“Isn't baizhu from Liyue, lord of Geo?” 
“And also ice cubes, tsaritsa. It reminds me, wasn't one of your harbingers also in Liyue at that time to close a deal with the Tianquan?”
“Why does everyone think is someone from my nation did it?!”
“Nation of freedom…”
“The biggest wine and sparkling wine importer…”
“You used your week to go bar hopping..”
“You are a weak and unimposing leader…”
“That part sounded more personal than anything!”
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sh1-n0bu · 4 months
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can i request something?? can you do modern relationship with scara??
✿ 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖! ✿
characters: modern!scaramouche x nb!reader
warnings: modern au!!!, fluff, crack, my poor attempt at humor, scara has a bad relationship with his moms, written with high school au in mind, scara being bad at feelings, headcannon format, raiden shogun goes as raiden shino since shogun is a title rather than a name and all…
notes: when that one song u used to religiously listen to when u were younger and cringier suddenly comes rushing back in for a fic idea
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oh dear gods, where do we even begin with this one?
tsundere to the max and we all know, his moms knows it, you know it, the entire school knows it, even the online friends he plays games with knows it
which explains on how you knew that scaramouche had a crush on you the moment he started showing small signs of it. waaaaayyyy before he even understood his own emotions and feelings and came to terms with it
safe to say, he is super easy to read. like, a motherfuckin open book that’s full of illustrations made for kids. at least, that’s how it feels to you anyways
has a bad relationship with both of his mothers and his older sister but at least he tolerates his older sister better than his mothers, which is a good thing. at least he has someone to turn to when something goes wrong
him, his mom ei and his older sister are carbon copies of each other alongside his aunt. the first time you went over to scara’s place to prepare for an upcoming exam, you almost got whiplash from just how many similar purple people were there
like… low-key concerning with how you easily mistook his mom ei with his aunt or his older sister with his mom ei
safe to say you made a fool out of yourself for the first few meetings with his family
his other mom, miko, is very… eccentric to say the least. teasing, sly, quick-witted, charming and charismatic. you and scara joke around that miko was a fox or a demon in her former life
his older sister, shino, is quite the sweetheart one the other hand. quiet, reserved, socially awkward and friendly if you go over how her normal face looks so emotionless and dead. reminds you of a soldier or a puppet with how shino is so willing to fulfill ei’s wishes or words to the T
his aunt, baal, is an absolute sweetheart. the ultimate sweetheart actually. such a sweet woman she is with her soft words, warm smiles and motherly affections. she offered you a hand-made cookie when you were about to leave simply because you were scara’s friend!
yes, you cried to the amount of kindness and scara made fun of you for it
you would never peg someone as mean, introverted and arrogant as scaramouche to be friends with the popular, soccer kid from school did ya’? well you are wrong because scara and childe are best friends!!! as childe claims
the ginger-head made a bet with scaramouche saying that you two’s friendship won’t last. cue scaramouche and his over competitive ass coming over and latching himself to you to make sure that your friendship would last
AKA childe’s plan to make scaramouche realize his feelings and come to terms with it has officially started!
likes to occasionally play video games such as wuthering waves, minecraft, resident evil, silent hill etc etc. hates first person shooter games cuz it’s so not his style and he hates the annoying boys that he comes across during the game
will never say it nor mention it but sometimes he plays those ‘using not a single part of your brain’ type of games like playing as dentists or doctors. hell, he even likes to play dress up games from time to time. he just loves the aesthetics and the different designs of the clothes, itches that inner aesthetic lover part of him. but he will NEVER mention it or be caught playing it. scaramouche would rather die
something tells me that his music taste would be more leaning into electronic or scene music. odetari, 6arelyhuman, kets4eki — you name it. sometimes, enjoys those gentle and soothing sounding anime openings too
he has sanrio plushies. more specifically, hello kitty ones
had an obsession with the cute white cat growing up and he never grew out of it
the moment he first found out that you like plushies or pink things or sanrio related things, he knew he gotta gift you anonymous sanrio gifts on your birthday or on special occasions. it was his early stages of courting you
was absolutely appalled when he was found out because whaddaYA MEAN HE LIKES SOFT AND THOSE STUPID PLUSHIES AND SANRIO RELATED THINGS?! NUH-UH, YOU MUST’VE SAW A DIFFERENT PURPLE HAIRED, BOWL HAIRCUT HAVING GUY CUZ SCARAMOUCHE WOULD NEVER LIKE THOSE STUPID THINGS!!!
he aint fooling anyone
takes his relationship slow since he has some big trust issues yet also attachment issues. pick a struggle tbh
had a panic attack after he officially, finally, after years of crushing on you, like literally acting like your boyfriend years later when he asked you out on a date because woohoo!! he asked you for a date \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/ but also shit, what type of a first date would you like ლಠ益ಠ)ლლಠ益ಠ)ლ
yeah, he had to do something he hated the most. ask his moms and sister for advice
after a lot of talk, discussions, secretly stalking your social profiles or you in general to see what you would like, scaramouche decided to take you out for an arcade date
you two had fun, he was glad you had fun, played bunch of different games together and even managed to win a cute matching plushies and keychains!! kuromi for him and melody for you. he was so glad that you liked it but he won’t say it out loud
walked you home after your first date, to your front door and bid you good night and “hope you had fun tonight, idiot” chu!! on your cheek before making a mad dash back home
the type of boyfriend who would lovingly bully you
“why the fuck are you wearing that? it’s making your stupid face look cuter than normal”
“who in their right mind would choose the green one? yellow looks better on you. no, the soft pastel one, not the bright one you idiot”
“you wanna die? who said i was ever gonna stop loving you after you turn into a roach? i’m gonna keep you in a special glass case until you change back dumbass”
yeah… just say you love them already, scara
your contact name on his phone is literally my idiot٩(╬ʘ益ʘ╬)۶
would lovingly call you names as he leaves soft kisses on your face
“you’re a fucking idiot but it’s fine, you’re my idiot”
455 notes · View notes
orphicdreamers-wp · 4 months
Text
Oh Baby — Quinn Hughes
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Summary: In which you go into labor in another state unsure if your husband will be there to meet your daughter with you
Content Warnings; Labor, Cussing, Needles
Pairing; Husband! Quinn Hughes x Fem Reader
“I’m gonna kill him! Jack, I swear to god I’m gonna kill your brother!” Jack rubbed your back reassuringly, “I know honey. But you can wait to kill him until after my perfect niece is here, right?” You gripped the sleeve of your brother in law’s t-shirt, “If you don’t stop talking Jack, I’ll you first!” A plethora of pain coursed through your body as another contraction ripped through you. Jack gritted his teeth as you clawed his hand.
Jack had always been the one of your two brothers in law that you were closer to, majority of that being the closeness in your ages comparatively to you and Luke. You were 3 years older than Jack and 5 years older than Luke. So you and Jack were closer friends. So when your water broke as you were meeting a realtor for a potential new location for your chain of restaurants, you called Jack knowing he was less than 3 hours away in Washington while Quinn was on his way back from Boston. You had checked into the hospital and gotten situated by the time Jack got to the hospital.
He rushed in holding your hospital bag for the baby, a bag for yourself and another bag of stuff for Quinn. He had called Quinn and reassured his older brother that you were okay, although Quinn could hear you cussing at your ob as she gave you an epidural block. Quinn assured his younger brother that he would be back in time to meet his daughter with you. As time progressed you began to lose hope.
You were in hysterics as you were finally pushing, “Jack I’m scared. What if I’m not cut out to be a mom? I mean I’m only 25 and we just got married. I’m scared that me and Quinn won’t work out.” Jack held your hand somehow tighter, “You are the most amazing person I know, you always know what to say Y/N, you are going to be a perfect mom. And you and Quinn are like a damn rom-com movie. You will be okay, the minute you see your baby girl you will know.” You sobbed as you forced another push, “Thank you.”
The door opened and Quinn rushed in, “I’m here! I may have a ticket but I’m here.” You looked up at your husband, “You made it.” Quinn pressed a soft kiss against your lips, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Your OBGYN smiled, “Hey Mr Hughes, you made it just in time. Give me one more push and you’ll have your perfect girl.” You clutched Quinn’s hand, unaware of Jack who had taken out a digital camcorder and had started to record you and Quinn’s faces as you let out a groan and clutched Quinn’s hand as you pushed.
You collapsed back when you heard it, your newborn daughter’s cries. You felt your heart clench as the OBGYN spoke, “So dad, do you wanna do the honors?” Quinn’s eyes welled with happy tears as he nodded, “Your damn right I do.” Quinn took the scissors and cut the umbilical cord. With the doctors okay, Quinn held your daughter oh so carefully and placed her on your chest. You reached your finger out and your heart shattered and somehow felt more filled as your daughter’s tiny hand wrapped around your finger, “She’s perfect. Look at her Quinn. That’s all us.”
Quinn melted into you, “She might be the girl I love most in the world now.” Jack smiled with teary eyes, “So what’s my new best friends name?” You smiled at your daughter, “Lorelei Jacqueline Hughes. After my mom and my girls alleged best uncle.” Jack grinned at his newborn niece, “Rory Jackie Hughes. You are so perfect, and you lucked out in the parent department. You have the best mommy ever. Your daddy is alright.”
You smiled weakly at your husband, “I have never loved two people this much. This is the best and most fulfilling experience of my life. I love you Quinn Hughes, with all I am.” Quinn kissed you softly, “I love you too Y/N Hughes, will everything in my heart.”
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velocesainz · 3 months
Note
Listeeeen well read but… I love angst so. Any driver you want… where the reader has a miscarriage. Yeah if is too much I’m sorry I leave now
Kissies ✨
A/n: This sounds super interesting! I hope you like it I also apologise for taking so long, I kinda forgot and also had exams. Kissies ✨
F1 masterlist | main masterlist
Our Lost Family
(LN04)
Summary: You end up having a miscarriage and you become super depressed after losing the baby, Lando gets fed up of your moping. Will this ruin your marriage forever?
Warnings: very angstyyy, sad
Pairing: Lando x wife!pregnant!reader
Part 2
Y/n pov:
It was a normal day, well as normal as it can be when you’re pregnant.
I got out of bed and went down the stairs to get started on breakfast for Lando and I.
Finishing up breakfast I set the table and called Lando to join me.
“How’s the little one feeling” Lando asked me touching my stomach tenderly.
“There’s a little discomfort but overall seems to be doing pretty well in my opinion” I replied and he looked at me with a soft smile.
We chatted about plans for the rest of the day as we ate and then went on about our plans finishing off the busy day with a nice calm dinner at home.
“Baby?” Lando called out as I was setting up the table.
“Yes love? What happened?” I asked.
“I have this weird nagging feeling that there’s something that is going to go wrong and I just can’t get it to stop” Lando confessed and that got me thing.
I have also felt an odd feeling similar to how Lando described it.
“I have also had this feeling, I don’t know what it is but it feels very serious” I told him and his face grew increasingly worried.
“Baby, I want you to know, no matter what happens to us or the baby I will always love you. Nothing will get me to love you less” Lando said and that made me both worried and a little calm at the same time.
Timeskip:
I was sitting at home watching tv and eating a simple salad when my stomach started to hurt extremely badly.
I saw blood pooling at my feet and I knew immediately that I was having a miscarriage, having heard so much about the experience from my mom who had had 2 miscarriages.
I immediately dialled Lando’s number but he didn’t pick up.
I dialled my mom number and she came in a few minutes and took me to the hospital.
Lando pov:
I was in a meeting when y/n repeatedly called which was odd for her as she knows my schedule and knows not to call when I’m busy.
I ignored her calls and put my phone one silent.
Timeskip:
I got home to find nobody around.
There was an eerie silence.
I walked to the bedroom in hopes of finding y/n sleeping but to no avail.
I went into the living room and found a pool of blood at the base of the couch.
My heart sank to my stomach.
Was this why she was calling?
Oh god is she alright??
I called y/n only to find that she left her phone here in the house
I thought of calling her mother, maybe she had taken her to the hospital?
When I called she immediately picked and her voice frantically said “Lando! Thank god your done, please come to x hospital immediately! I’m afraid y/n is having a miscarriage”
My brain was spiralling but I managed to get my keys and drive to the hospital.
When I entered the hospital is when I was met with the sight of y/n’s mother, sitting on a chair with her head in her hands.
“Mum?” I called out to her
Her head immediately snapped towards my direction and she sprinted over “Oh Lando My baby she’s in danger, her baby’s in danger I don’t know what to do” she cried.
“Don’t worry mum, she’ll be fine, she’s one of the strongest people I’ve met” I told her mum to try and calm her down.
“I guess you’re right, she is quite the resilient kind” she sighed out sadly.
Timeskip:
The doctor finally came out and came up to me and yn’s mum.
“You must be Mrs Norris’s family. She’s fine but significantly weaker. The baby however…did not make it. I’m so sorry for your loss, you can visit her now. She’s in room 004.”
When the doctor said this my heart sank to my stomach. We both had tried so hard to have a kid together and when she finally got pregnant she ended up having a miscarriage. I don’t know how I will face her after this pain.
I walked into the room and found her lying on the bed sleeping peacefully, if only life was going the way it was.
“Hey love, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. If only I had picked up your call, our child would’ve been alive with us” I spoke softly into her hair as I held her close.
She woke up in a panic “WHAT HAPPENED?? IS MY BABY OK? Lando ANSWER ME”
I didn’t know what to say to her so I just kept my head down and I guess she understood what I was trying to say. She broke down into sobs.
“My poor baby, I didn’t even get to see you. How am I to continue without you” she kept on repeating to herself and my heart kept breaking into smaller pieces with every word.
Timeskip:
Y/n’s been so incredibly depressed ever since the miscarriage. She can barely get out of bed in the morning and struggles to do basic tasks.
I love her but this is getting way too much. I mean, it’s just a baby, we can always try for another one.
I walked into the living room to see y/n lying on the couch with a blank stare on her face.
“Y/n?” I called out to her and she slowly turned towards me
“Y/n this is not healthy. It’s just a baby, it’s not the end of the world. We can always try for another one. Right now I’m fed up of you not doing anything but moping around and acting like the world has collapsed on you” I spoke fast.
Looking at her glossy eyes and hurt face should have told me that what I did was wrong but I didn’t realise
“Do you know how much this baby meant to me Lando? Do you know? After months of trying I finally got pregnant and I just lost the baby and you’re telling me to just “get over it”? Do you even hear yourself? I’m absolutely disappointed in your understanding. I’m leaving.” She yelled and walked out of the house.
What have I done?
Part 2?
A/n: I would love to get your guys feedback and also please send me any requests you’d like to see since I’m done with exams and have a bunch of free time. Kissies ✨
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boldlyvoid · 1 year
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Sweet Nothing
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Spencer Reid x Fem Reader
Summary: Penelope made a friend on the internet over covid who just so happens to live in the same town Dr. Reid just got a new job... and playing Cupid is her favourite thing in the world
Warnings: strangers to lovers, meet cute, 40-year-old virgin Spencer, Virgin reader (late 20's/early 30's), picnics, food mention, lots of Taylor Swift references, first times, Spencer is on anti-depressants, oral sex fem receiving, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sweet sex, lots of communication
Word Count: 12.6
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Making friends on the internet was never easy… it always came with its own set of unique difficulties. People lie, anyone could be secretly crazy and when actions don’t really have consequences on the web, they can get crazier. 
That being said, Y/N has recently made a wonderful friend in a woman named Penelope. 
Penelope’s Tumblr page was pretty normal, very pink and vibrant and happy, but normal nonetheless. She’s in her early 40s, an internet veteran, an ex-employee at the FBI and known for creating a brand new, very safe, social media platform for young people. She was very easy to trust, very forward and easy to open up to as well, which made the two of them bond instantly. 
And despite the age difference and the long distance, Y/N would consider Penelope to be her best friend. 
She knew everything about her from her favourite colour to her hope and dreams and favourite singer… and also the fact she was a virgin well into her adult life and dying to get out there. They’ve spent most of their friendship discussing their equally awful dating lives, would-be lovers and almost hookups. Both women have tried time and time again to find love, however, nothing ever seemed to work out… until the day Penelope got an idea. 
“I have a friend…” Penelope leads, something sinister in her eyes. “And he’s single and pretty cute, too…” 
“Do you have a crush?” Y/N lights up thinking this is a happy moment for Penelope. “Oh my god, Penny tell me all about him!!”
“Well, no, actually… I want to set you up with him,” she explains further, in a much softer tone. “He’s so soft and sweet and a few years younger than me… and still a virgin.” 
Her eyes grow impossibly wide and her jaw drops momentarily, “you’re kidding?”
“Nope.” 
“Wow,” she takes a moment to soak it all in. She sits back in her chair and lets her shoulders drop as she thinks about it. And for once, Penelope is quiet too. “How much older than me is he?” 
“He’s 41… which I know it’s a lot older than you but he’s what you’re looking for and you’d be so perfect for him. He’s so wonderful and he’s waited for so long to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and I know you’d love everything about him if I told you everything but I want you to meet him and find out for yourself… sorry, that was a lot.” 
“No, no, that’s okay,” she actually loved when Penelope went on little rants like that. “I just don’t really have the funds to fly to Virginia right now—
“That’s another reason why he’s perfect for you, he’s moving to Reno next week!!!” Penelope can’t help but shake her hands with excitement while her voice raises at least a pitch if not 3. 
“Is this the same friend who’s already from Nevada?” Her eyes light right up like a cat staring at a laser… she’s seen photos on Penelope’s personal Facebook, everything from selfies in new glasses to the parties with friends  and throwbacks from working at the FBI… “doctor what’s-his-name?” 
“Spencer, yeah oh my god? I can’t believe you remember him?” Penelope asks and she just shrugs, “See, this is why you’re perfect for Spencer, he talks a lot like I do, only about much smarter things but you’d be able to keep up.” 
“I’d love that, actually,” she swoons, feeling slightly embarrassed about how the possibility of having a boyfriend makes her so giddy. “I’d love to listen to someone talk about what they love and just sit there and look at them…” 
“Perfect, I tell you! Perfect!!” Penelope exaggerates, “he’s moving in a few days but all his things are already there. The department paid for his relocation and everything, I’m so surprised he actually decided to go this time, he’s been thinking about it forever.” 
“Ask him if he wants some help unpacking when he does get here and I’d love to give him a hand,” she agrees fully, taking a leap of faith and seeing where this could go without the fear of the unknown weighing her down. 
She shows up at Spencer's apartment 2 days after he arrives in Reno, a bottle of Welcome to the Neighbourhood sparkling cider and an assortment of muffins in her arms, thinking it would be quick and easy for him to take the muffins to work over the next few days, unlike a flower arrangement he didn’t need taking up space in his downsized apartment. 
She takes a deep breath before she knocks, her knuckles are barely off the door when he opens it. She barely has a moment to prepare before she’s smacked with the realization that this man is very handsome and incredibly smart… and so, so intimidating. 
“Hi,” he smiles at her. “Is that— you didn’t need to bring anything?” 
She looks down at the basket she’s holding and then back up to see those beautiful brown eyes, “I know… sorry, um, Hi, welcome to the neighbourhood,” she hands him the basket with the best smile she can muster, slightly embarrassed to be so flustered by the mere sight of him. 
“Thank you, come in,” he steps out of the doorway so she could walk in, he steps away from the door completely and sets the basket on a moving box. “Sorry, it’s a mess, the movers just put the boxes wherever they wanted, so I’ve been reorganizing where they were supposed to go,” Spencer explains, gesturing to the room around them. 
“It’s okay, that’s why I’m here,” she’s cheery as she shuts the door and starts to take her coat off. “Can I just leave this over here?” 
“Yeah, actually—“ he reaches for the closet door, “I found the box with hangers first so you could hang your coat when you got here.” 
“She said you were a genius,” Y/N teases, holding her coat up so he could slip the hanger inside and hang it on the bar. She sets her purse down inside the closet too, just for safekeeping. 
“I hope she hasn’t talked me up too much,” he’s honest with his fears. “I’m afraid I’m actually quite average, maybe tilted towards the strange side…” 
She gives him another smile, but ultimately shakes her head, “Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me anything really personal. I only really know about you from stories she’s told me about her old job, but nothing in detail… I was just starting to get to know her when you were hospitalized before the pandemic and she was by your side a bunch so she wasn’t online and I was actually worried something happened to her 'cause she’s never that quiet.” 
“Oh, yeah, that was awful,” he agrees, pressing his lips together awkwardly while he thinks about it. But then he takes a deep breath and his shoulders drop. “So I was thinking we could start in the kitchen? I’ve found most of the boxes.” 
“Yeah, lead the way,” she says, following him through the front room to the living room that was connected to the kitchen by means of an archway. “Oh wow,” she muses aloud, “this is going to be nice to decorate…” 
“You think?” He looks a mix of worried and confused, “I have no idea what to do with the place.” 
“I’m sure once we start taking out all your things we’ll figure something out,” she knows she can make a room out of anything, it's how she decorates her classroom each September. Just with sheer will and pure hope.
“I had to downsize a lot to come here, I donated most of my books so I wouldn’t cost the department a fortune moving them out, but I still have a lot,” he shares, both proud and a little embarrassed that 50% of his boxes are for books. “I don’t have many personal things or decorations… I honestly wasn’t in my last place enough to make it feel homey.” 
“You’ll be here often, though, right?” She asks, selfishly, she can already see them becoming somewhat good friends and she wants to be able to see him regularly. 
He nods, “Yeah, I’m going to be working with the sex crimes unit, 9 to 5 every day unless there’s a big case,” he explains. “Like human trafficking or a pedophile ring or something, but I doubt I’ll see an overwhelming number of those right now, it’ll be nice to downsize to just a city instead of dealing with the entirety of The United States.”
“I have 4 different groups of teenagers that I teach, which is like 120 kids alone, I can’t imagine being principal and having a thousand kids to watch out for,” she can relate it back. “I’m sure this will be less stressful for you… still awful sometimes but—
“But I’m good with stress,” he assures her. “Especially this kind of stress. You know, when I first started at the BAU I had a co worker who transferred over from sex crimes in New York, she actually had a great time cause she got to kick some creeps ass every now and then.” 
“Oh that’s cool, I guess,” she tries not to be jealous, knowing he’s probably had lots of meaningful relationships with women throughout his life, but that’s not going to stop him from getting to know her. 
She grabs a box that says mugs and lifts it to the edge of the counter island instead of dwelling on these bubbling feelings for who is essentially, a stranger. “Which cupboard did you want the mugs to go in?” 
“Uh,” he gets nervous then. “I have about 3 boxes of mugs… so wherever they fit?” 
“Sounds good,” she can’t help but smile, it was cute. “Do you like to collect them or something?” 
“Kinda,” he reaches into his pocket and takes out an exacto-knife, handing it to her so she can open the cardboard box. She pushes the knife out of its plastic sheath and starts to cut along the tape seam. 
The first mug she pulls out is a pink octopus, “oh, this is so cute?” 
“That’s Mildred,” he can’t help but smile, “I got that from Penelope on her last day at work.” 
“Oh,” she holds it to her chest in a sweet hug. “I can’t wait for her to come and visit, I just know she gives amazing hugs.” 
“Actually, she hugged me before I left and said that I was supposed to pass it along to you at some point…” he looks at her softly, slightly terrified. “Which is strange 'cause she knows I don’t like touching and we’ve never met before but for some reason, she knew I’d still want to hug you upon meeting you…” 
She can’t help but laugh, placing the mug down on the counter, “is that an invitation?” 
He nods, opening his arms and allowing her to step into his space. She wraps her arms around his middle and holds him close, feeling his large hands on her shoulder and upper back, his thumb lightly caressing the fabric of her shirt. 
She stays there in the hug for a moment and then pulls back, “I’ll be sure to tell her that you passed that along.” 
“Good,” he’s smiling like an idiot, bright red and flustered, falling head over heels for her already. 
At least, the little voice in her head thinks so. Making her smile back at him with the same giddy hopefulness that she’s longed for most of her life. 
He feels like the most awkward person in the whole fucking world. Hiding away in the living room to unbox something alone and give himself a moment of anxiety without having to play it cool in front of her any longer. 
She’s pretty, she’s nice, she smells like honey and happiness and new beginnings… Penelope raved about her for days when she heard he was moving to Reno and now he can see why. 
Y/N is amazing… it’s almost too good to be true.
She’s in his kitchen humming while she unpacks box after box of his dishes, moving around his new space like she was always meant to be here too. Like she’s a ghost or an extra piece of the pre-furnished listing. Like it was hers first. 
He can’t quite place what song it is that she’s humming, but it’s nice. He wanders over to the archway and leans against it, watching her in admiration as she slides some more mugs to the back of a shelf. He knows he wants to ask her out for real. Not just as friends, not just for help or convenience but because his aura is drawn to hers and the colour they could make together has never been made before. 
When she turns around to grab another mug she’s startled by his presence in the doorway, “gosh,” she gasps and places her hand on her chest to get over the initial shock. “What the heck, Spencer?” 
“Sorry, it’s just…” he licks his lips and thinks it over before saying it, “It’s so nice to have you here… it feels right.” 
“Oh,” she softens, he can see a weight lift off her shoulders and her eyes glimmer under the lights. “Thank you, thats the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?” 
“Would you want to go on a real date, tomorrow?” He can’t help but ask. “I know Penelope was hoping for us to date and I hate that she’s always right but, I would really like to go on a date with you.” 
“Yeah, absolutely,” she makes her way around the counter and over to be closer to him. “I’d love that, what do you want to do?” 
“Um,” he really didn’t think that far ahead… “can I surprise you?” 
“Sure,” she gives him the sweetest, most hopeful smile that makes his heart swell. 
“Is there anything you don’t like? Or are allergic to? Anything I should avoid?” He can’t help but ask. The last thing he wants is to surprise her with something that makes her distance herself from him. It’s happened too many times before. 
She shakes her head, “not that I can think of?” 
“Okay,” he smiles at her, stepping into her space more. “I found my Alexa that Penelope got me years ago, did you want me to put on that song you were humming?” 
She looks like a dear in the headlights, she clearly forgot he could hear her when she was humming. “Oh, um… no? I don't think you’d like the song.” 
“It sounded nice when you were humming?” 
“It’s embarrassing…” 
“What is it?” 
She sighs and gives in, “Taylor Swift has this song that I listen to when I dream about the life I want and it’s been stuck in my head all day cause I’m in your kitchen… and the lyric is outside they’re pushing and shoving but you’re in the kitchen humming, all that you ever wanted from me was Sweet Nothing…” 
“That’s not embarrassing,” his heart swells. “Penelope is a matchmaker, has she ever told you about all the couples she created at the FBI? She’s responsible for 5 marriages and by proxy about 10 babies.” 
“Wow,” Y/N’s a bit taken aback by that. “So you’re saying she’s like Cupid?” 
He nods, “Or she’s able to see fate's design a lot better than us.” 
“One hug? That’s all it took?” She teases him. 
“A few mugs?” He teases right back. 
“Hey, you can tell a lot about a person by what they hoard,” she bites back, trying not to smile too hard. 
He just shakes his head and backs up, headed back to the living room with her in tow. “Hey Alexa, what’s the Taylor Swift song that says you’re in the kitchen humming.” 
“That would be Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Midnights By Taylor Swift, released October—“ the British man's voice comes booming from the small speaker only to be cut off.
“Hey Alexa play Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift,” he orders with a smirk plastered to his face. 
“Okay, here’s Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Amazon Music.” 
Within the first few notes, he knows this is going to be their song. He extends his hand to her, silently asking her to dance even though he doesn’t really know how… and by design or some exquisite happenstance, she takes it. 
With one hand in hers, his other hand lands on her hip while her extra hand is placed ever so gently on his shoulder. Chest to chest, eye to eye, they smile and sway along to the flow of the tune. Her hand squeezes around his own slightly tighter, the tune matches exactly how she was humming in his own kitchen and then he hears the lyric she mentioned. 
They said the end is coming,
Everyone's up to something,
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.
Outside, they're push and shoving,
You're in the kitchen humming,
All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.
He spins her around making her laugh as she crashes back into his chest and holds him tighter. She wraps her arm around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. The music is loud, but his thoughts are louder. He wants everything this song mentions but with her. Only her. And it’s been only an hour and a bit that he’s known her. He doesn’t even really know her but he craves to. 
“Do you write poems?” He asks after the song mentions them. 
She shakes her head, “no, but I know you read a lot of them… do you write them too?” 
He nods, “Sometimes… maybe I’ll make you one.” 
“I’ll probably cry,” she admits. 
Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors
And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other
And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"
To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it
She is soft-hearted. She’s sweet and kind and wonderful, too. She tilts her head to the side to rest against his own. Now cheek to cheek, he lets out a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. She hums along to the song, just soft enough for him to hear, not quite on key, but it’s endearing. 
They’re quiet for the rest of the song and keep swaying, knowing it’s going to end soon and they’re going to have to pull away. They don’t want to… luckily the song is on a loop. It starts right back up and so they don’t pull away. 
His place is still a mess when he gets ready to leave the next morning. After their dance, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on unpacking and he knew he’d be too tempted to hold her all night long… so she went home. He helped her into her coat, he hugged her goodbye and she left, taking a piece of his heart with her. 
He’s not as used to Reno as he was with DC, but one look at the map and he was able to find the grocery store quite easily. He walks there because he opted not to bring his shitty car with him. He sold it with the promise of looking for a new one here in Nevada, but it was actually a lot nicer to walk in a sunny place like this. And on days when it’s not as nice, taxis exist for a reason. He really didn’t need a car, anymore. 
He didn’t realize how much he missed Nevada until now. 
He spent a lot of last night thinking about what he wanted to do for their date and came up with the splendid idea of a picnic. The first thing he did was call Penelope, it wasn’t too late for her back in DC, so he didn’t feel too bad, but he had to ask her some questions. He wanted everything to be perfect. She talked his ear off and then gave him an extensive list of the things she knows Y/N likes from past conversations, it turns out they’ve spent a bit of time talking about snack foods and it was finally coming in handy. 
He comes back to his newly unpacked kitchen with bags of groceries, he prepares sandwiches on croissants and cuts up cheese and puts them on toothpicks with fancy slivers of meat… and he bought some new Tupperware so the meats and cheese can be in one and the fruit he bought can be in another. He bought her favourite drinks and some cute disposable cups to put them in because he didn’t have anything other than coffee mugs, which he was sure she wouldn’t mind, but he did. 
He wanted this to be perfect for her. 
All while he was packing their picnic basket, he listened to Taylor’s music, thanks to Penelope he had a playlist of her favourites to get himself caught up on them and ended up liking most of them himself. Especially one called Maroon. The lyrics are so powerfully written and wondrously sung, it’s as if a heart-stopping novel was put to music and all told within 3 minutes and 38 seconds. Taylor Swift is a genius, that much her lover got right in sweet nothing. What a mind, indeed. 
Just a little past her apartment, there is a little park with a lovely field of flowers beside it. It’s a perfect spot for a picnic, so once he’s finished packing their picnic, he sets off on a walk to her apartment, thinking a walk to the park together would only add to the ambiance of the day. 
He makes it to her place a little before 11, like he told her he would, and spends a few seconds in the hallway to catch his breath and fix his hair before he knocks. And when he does knock, it’s 3 times and he hits the wood pretty hard with his knuckles. Inside, it’s pretty quiet and then he hears her call out, “Just a sec!!”
He waits patiently for a minute or two and then she wipes the door open while putting in an earring, “Sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was.”
She’s breathtaking. She’s all dolled up and it’s all for him. He can’t believe it. 
“That’s okay,” he manages to breathe out, leaving his mouth hung open as he stares. 
She just smirks and reaches out for him, touching his chin and redirecting his jaw closed. “You don’t want to catch flies…” 
He blushes, uncontrollably, and bows his head, bashful as ever. “Sorry, you just look beautiful… I’m not used to someone getting all dolled up for me.” 
She lets out a huff of breath through her nose, settling all her nerves, her shoulders drop and she stares at him like he’s the only man in the whole world. “You’re so sweet, I almost can’t believe you’re real.” 
“That feeling is mutual,” he assures her. 
She finally looks down at his hands to see him holding a picnic basket. “Oh my god, are we going to have a picnic?” She lights right up. 
He nods, “is that okay?” 
“Okay? It’s perfect, Spencer!” She’s so excited and it’s real. She’s not playing it up or anything. She’s genuinely over the moon. “Let me just put on my shoes and grab my purse, you can wait in here.” 
“Okay,” he steps inside and closes the door behind himself as she runs off into he bedroom.  
It’s a small apartment. Her bedroom and bathroom are separate rooms, but the kitchen, living room and the washer and dryer are all exposed. She has it set up really nicely, it’s warm and inviting and happy and he could see himself making a home on her couch in the upcoming weeks of getting to know her. He couldn’t wait to learn about her favourite shows and movies and books. He wanted to hear all about her family and friends and co-workers, even her favourite students and the ones who irked her. He wanted to hear about it all. He wants to know her favourite colour and how she likes her pizza and her pasta and what her favourite baked good is. There’s an endless amount of personal things that he can learn, and he wants to know it all. He wants to love it all, too. 
When she returns, she has her shoes on, her purse over her shoulder and a blanket draped over her forearm. “I don’t want to sit on the grass, and I didn’t think you fit a blanket in there…” 
“Oh, shoot,” he looks down at the basket and realizes that was the one thing he forgot. “Yeah, we’re going to need that.” 
“Thought so,” she smirks. She walks back over to the door and grabs her keys, “anything else you need?” 
“Just you,” he replies without thinking it over. 
“Stop being so sweet,” she nudges him, staring up at him like he hung the stars, himself. 
“Or else?” He teases. It’s remarkable how easy it is with her. It just flows out of him like the script was already written between them. 
She steps even closer into his space, “you get a kiss for every compliment,” she says, standing on her tip-toes, she presses her lips to his cheek for 1, 2, 3 seconds of pure bliss. 
She drops back down to her normal height, a smirk plastered to her face, proud of the lipstick stain that’s almost as red as his blushing cheek. She reaches up to wipe it off but he pulls back, “don’t…” he’s adamant. “I want everyone to know you’re mine if you’re going out looking this beautiful beside me.” 
“Okay then.” 
Like a real man, Spencer insists on standing closer to the road as they walk along the sidewalk. A few moments into their walk, he transitions the basket to his right side so that his hand that’s closest to her is free and she notices it right away. She has draped the blanket over her left arm, leaving her right hand free… all but begging him to take it. But he’s shy and quiet and he doesn’t know how to just do it. 
So she does. 
She takes his hand in hers and interlocks their fingers, smiling up at him as they keep going forward, “have you ever been to this park?” 
He shakes his head, “No… is it nice? The reviews online said it’s clean and there isn’t a lot of illegal activity there.” 
She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, it’s a nice park. Sometimes I hit up the bookstore down here and then I go read in the park. It’s nice in the summer when I have a week off between my regular job at the school and my summer job.” 
“Summer job?” 
She nods, “Mhm, you know, 'cause I only work at the high school when school is in session and I don’t make enough to take two whole months off so each summer I take a new job. Like last summer I worked at a daycare but the summer before that I was at a ladies' clothing store a few streets over.” 
“What are you going to do this summer?” He asks, intrigued. 
“I’m not sure yet… I’m still friends with some of the girls at the daycare so I might go back, but honestly, I’m also thinking of putting in my application for summer school and I might tutor some of the kids that need help graduating,” she explains. “Cause I know how hard it is to try your best and still just not get it. They shouldn’t be punished for having a hard time.” 
“You sound like a wonderful teacher, I’m sure they’d really like to have you in the summer, too,” Spencer compliments. “I was always closest to the kids that didn’t do very well in school. It’s not that I pitted them or felt like I could improve them, I just liked who they were as people, more.”
“They’re lovely kids, they just get pushed to the side because they either learn differently or they can’t do the work at home for whatever reason. And they shouldn’t be punished for that, it’s not their fault that most kids nowadays have to work to help their families or become a second parent to help their younger siblings. They barely have the time to take care of themselves let alone do 5 hours of homework a night,” she rants, “I genuinely hate how the school system is currently.” 
“My nephew is in high school currently and he isn’t having the best time,” Spencer shares. “He calls me for help on his math homework sometimes and it always floors me that even if he got to the right answer, if he didn’t follow the exact formula that the teacher uses then he gets a 0. There are many different ways to solve an equation, and as long as he shows his work it should count.” 
“Exactly!” She raises her voice a little and startles a lady passing them. “It’s frustrating to watch them struggle with shit they’ll never use again unless they’re going into a math-dominated field. It’s not fair.” 
“More kids need a teacher like you,” Spencer says, giving her hand a little squeeze. 
“Why, thank you,” she gleams. “If we weren’t in the middle of the walkway I’d kiss you again…”
“The books store is just up here, you can kiss me in the aisles… if you really want to?” he kids, but not really. She can tell he wants another kiss from her. 
So she drags him into the bookstore, they tell the worker that they’re just looking and perusing the store, calling out the titles they know and rating the backs of the ones that seem interesting until they’re in the back aisle. She turns to him with a smirk, “Are you gonna make me stand on my tip-toes every time, bean sprout?” 
He smirks and places the picnic basket down on the floor so his hands are free, “I could just kiss you, instead, you know?” 
“You wouldn’t be so bold?” She tempts, secretly hoping he will. 
He tentatively reaches out, placing his beautifully soft hand on her cheek and caressing her skin with his thumb before he starts to lean in. She closes her eyes in anticipation, just mere seconds before their lips touch and like the big bang, universes were created in the pitch-black darkness behind her eyelids. Colours she’s never seen before, feelings she’s only read on pages that surround them, and a warmth in her chest that seems so foreign… yet so right. 
He goes to pull away and she leans back in, dropping the blanket in the process to kiss him again and again until his tongue slips past her lips and it's more than just a kiss. It’s the start of something beautiful. Something more than Penelope ever thought possible when her two friends ended up in the same town at the same time. 
They’re brought out of the moment by the sound of a woman clearing her throat, “You actually have to buy something you can’t just make out back here.” 
“Sorry, sorry.”
“I’m so sorry!”
The two of them rush out with equally guilty mugs. She grabs the first book she see’s, “We’ll take this.” 
“I’ll meet you at the register,” the keeper replies rather snidely and over it as she walks away. 
Looking down at the book, it’s a poetry book by an author she’s never heard of before. “You know this one?” 
Spencer shakes his head, “surprisingly, no.” 
She picks up the blanket again, he grabs the basket and the two of them slowly make their way towards the cash. “Sorry, again,” Y/N says, pressing her lips together awkwardly. “I don’t know where that came from, we really just wanted a book for our picnic.” 
“I’ve been in love before, I get it,” she waves it off with a growing smile. “This is a good choice… it’s only 6 dollars as well.”
“I’ve got it,” Spencer steps forward, taking his wallet out of his pocket and handing the woman two 5 dollar bills. “Do you take tips or donations?”
“Always, it keeps the lights on,” she’s happy to take the extra money, exchanging one of the 5’s for 4 1’s and placing them in a jar behind the desk. “Thank you, I hope to see you back here sometime.” 
“Definitely, I’d love to have a real look next time,” Spencer teases as Y/N takes the book. He places his hand on her back, “thank you.” 
“Have a good rest of your day,” she adds for good measure, following Spencer towards the door. 
“You too! And enjoy your picnic!” The lady calls back just before they leave. 
“God,” Y/N scolds herself, “I can’t believe that happened.” 
“Spencer just laughs, “It’s not that embarrassing… believe me, I’ve walked in on much worse.” 
“I can imagine, I mean, Penelope told me about some of your cases,” she says with the roll of her eyes. “I really don’t know how you did it for so long.” 
“Honestly, me either,” he agrees with her there. “How much do you know about me? Because she never told me much about you and I’m worried we’re not on even playing grounds…” 
“Oh, not much!” She tries to sound as believable as possible. “She basically told me you’re a genius, she loves you like a little brother and some little anecdotes like you were shot in the knee once and were on crutches for months and you wear a lot of purple which I’ve also seen in the Facebook photos she has of you… but nothing super personal.”
“Okay, that’s good then… cause she’s seen me at my worst,” Spencer admits as they make their way toward the park entrance
“She was basically big brother to you guys,” Y/N teases. 
Spencer manages to laugh, “Yeah, she was.”
The gates to the park are open, there are children running about cheering with one another while their parents sit on the benches and talk, barely watching on. They pass everyone and head right back to the grassy area behind the playground, past the soccer fields and take cover under a baby Willow tree that still has lots of growing left to do, however, she’s still big enough to cast a good amount of shade on them. 
She lays out the blanket perfectly and takes a seat while Spencer gets down on his knees, placing the picnic basket in front of himself. All while they’re still talking about Penelope. He takes out two plastic champagne flutes and hands them to her first, then he sets out the bubbly drink he got, followed by 4 Tupperware containers. “Speaking of which, I called her last night and she told me about your favourite snacks…” 
“No way?” She can’t believe it. 
He simply nods, a smirk growing, “It would seem you two love food.” 
“Well, it’s always late when we call so she’s seen a lot of my nightly snacks,” She admits. “Is that? No way…” She takes one of the containers and opens it up to find little croissant sandwiches. “You want me to fall in love with you? Don’t you?” 
He’s startled to hear it and she can’t believe she said it. It was forward and real and incredibly honest. But Spencer nods. Of course, he nods. “Yeah, I do.” 
She looks at him like that 'I do' was the big one. The most important one. And to her, it’s almost more important. “Really?” 
“I’ve spent most of my life completely alone, I’m tired… and I’m not settling, not at all, no,” he stutters out and worries he’s offended her. “I just mean, I like you, you’re wonderful already and everything I look for in a person and if you loved me I’d be the luckiest man in the world.” 
“Wow,” she can’t believe it. 
“Sorry—
“No, no,” she reaches out, dropping the container so she could touch his knee instead, “don’t, I’m just shocked, really…” 
“Really?” 
She nods, “Yeah, not many people have just openly told me that they like me let alone want me to love them?” 
“Me either,” Spencer admits. He’s ready to lay his whole heart bare to her. “I really want someone to love me and if that someone was you then I could die happy.” 
“Not on my watch,” she manages to smile. “My love means taking care of you. My love includes worrying and obsessing and making you entirely mine… it’s driven people away before we could even start anything real, I don’t want that to happen here.” 
“It won’t,” Spencer is quick to reply. “It can’t drive me away, it’s exactly what I want… and I want to love you just the same.” 
“You won’t have to try hard,” she teases, smiling up at him. “Come on, get comfortable, grab a sandwich and talk to me. Tell me about yourself and watch it happen.” 
“Okay,” he follows her instructions. 
He gets comfortable on the blanket, taking off his shoes so he can sit crisscross applesauce and he pours them each a glass of sparkling cider. “I’m sober,” he shares first. “I had some drug problems in my 20’s and I find if I avoid all substances, except coffee, then I won’t slip.” 
“Wise man,” she compliments. “I don’t drink either, mostly cause drinking alone is sad and I don’t like how it makes me feel.”
“And I picked this pinky one cause of the line in Paris…” Spencer admits which makes her peak right up. “You know, fake wine makes believe it’s champagne…” 
“Oh my god, you listened to Midnights?” 
He nods, “I went back to listen to Sweet Nothing and thought why not?” 
She can’t help but shake her head and smile, “That’s so cute, you have no idea how cool this is for me. No one I know really likes her, everyone acts too cool for Taylor Swift and then you come in and listen to her on your own accord? That’s— that’s everything to me, Spencer.” 
“I think she’s amazing, well, so far, at least,” he admits. “I’ve only listened to the one album but it was a great album, I particularly enjoyed Maroon.”
“Her track 2’s are always my favourite,” Y/N raves. “She saves track 5 for her personal favourites or songs that mean the most to her, like on Red there’s this one called All Too Well and it’s originally 5 minutes but on the new recording of Red it’s 10 minutes and it’s so good. It’s insanely beautiful.” 
“I can’t wait to listen to it,” he can’t help but smile. “I love listening to you talk about her, you glow.” 
“Here,” she pulls out her phone and headphones from her purse and plugs them in. “We can listen to it now if you want?” 
“Okay,” he agrees, taking an earbud and placing it in his ear while she moves closer to share the other. 
And for 10 minutes they sit there in silence, she eats her sandwich and he listens to the words with the most admiration. The hurt is palpable, the passion is gut-wrenching… he loves it and she can tell from the look on his face. He’s so focused and enthralled. She feels a warmth in her chest that she hasn’t felt before, something in this moment is what makes her really love him. She isn’t just infatuated, he isn’t just cute and nice… he’s special. 
“That was amazing—
“I never want to feel like that,” she whispers, staring at him intently. “don’t break my heart, please.” 
“I don’t plan to?” 
She lets out a deep breath she didn’t mean to hold, “I’ve never dated anyone before because I can’t go through the heartache. She made it seem so fucking awful I never want to feel it.” 
“It’s awful,” he admits, all the hurt he’s experienced comes forth, pooling behind his eyes as tears form. “I was in love only once. She died before I could tell her.”
“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry,” she can’t believe it. “When?” 
“In 2013.” 
“Have you been single for 10 years?” 
He nods, “Basically. I tried to date before the pandemic but she wasn’t really my type, it was more convenient so it didn’t last.” 
“Oh.”
“This isn’t like that,” he assures. “You’re kind and beautiful and you have a normal job and you make people's lives better… you’ve made Penelope’s life better. You are sunshine—
“Do not call yourself midnight rain I will laugh,” she cuts him off, biting back a smirk.” 
“I wasn’t,” he laughs too, “but it works here, too.” 
“I’m not always sunny,” she adds, making sure he knows that. 
“That’s okay,” he’s fine with it, really. “Even on gloomy days, the sun is just behind the clouds.” 
She can’t believe he just said that. It’s so beautiful and kind and about her? It makes her just stare at him, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out. She doesn’t know what to say. “Oh, man… I’m going to fall in love with you so quickly.” 
“Me too,” Spencer smiles, reaching out to hold her hand. He grips it tight and doesn’t break eye contact with her, “and I’m excited about it.” 
He only lives around the corner from her which means they see each other every day for the next week. They wake up at the same time, they get coffee before work, she drops him off at the police station and then she heads to the high school. After school, she goes and picks up something for dinner and he Ubers right to her apartment to eat. They talk well into the night, they listen to music, they watch documentaries and movies and they cuddle… she knows almost everything about him and he knows almost everything about her. He’s going to meet her family in the summer, hopefully, and she’s going to meet Diana in a few weeks. 
Being together is the most fun she’s ever had in her entire life. 
And while they’re not going on dates to get to know each other, they are dating and Penelope is happy about it for the most part. She’s just upset she lost her nightly chats with Y/N on Zoom. They barely even text now. 
When Penny finally does get Y/N on the phone, however, it’s on a night that Spencer has an intense case in Reno. The BAU are back in town… 3 women have died this week, all online sex workers, they never walked the streets and yet that’s where they’ve ended up. It’s heartbreaking. 
“I called him today during his break and he just sounded so defeated, it breaks my heart,” Y/N says with her hand over her chest and pleading eyes, “it’s too bad you’re not working with them again.” 
“Their new tech guy is good,” Penelope assures her, “and he’s got JJ and Luke with him so he’s fine… he’s more than fine, he’s Spencer.” 
She rolls her eyes playfully, “he is fine…” 
“You guys really like each other?” Penelope digs, she wasn’t going to pry and press too many questions but she can’t help herself. 
Y/N nods, “Yeah… I think I love him.” 
“Really?” Penelope lights right up, “Oh my god?” 
“I know! It’s been so nice, we were going to go on another date tonight but, you know, duty calls…” 
“How many have you had so far?” 
“Uh,” Y/N doesn’t really know. “Well, we unpacked boxes last Saturday and then on Sunday we went to the park and I’ve seen him every day this week…”
“I know,” Penelope pretends to be mad about it but she can’t stay fake mad for long. She loves them both too much. “I’ve missed you.” 
“I miss you too, I just like cuddles with my boyfriend more…” 
“Boyfriend?” 
She nods, “Yeah, I think that’s what we are, I mean, we’ve already talked about what we want and he said he wants to fall in love with me so I think that makes us boyfriend and girlfriend?” 
“Spencer said that? Shy, nervous, Spencer Reid?” Penelope can’t believe it. 
She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, I guess that’s him… I don’t know, he’s a lot less shy with me.” 
“Have you—
“No, no, not yet,” she waves her hands in front of the screen and looks panicked. “No. We haven’t even talked about it yet.” 
“No?” 
She shakes her head, “No… I mean, I want to and we’ve had some nice make-out sessions but we haven’t done anything more than kiss.”
“Wow,” Penelope is genuinely shocked. “I thought you would’ve jumped him by now.” 
“Hey,” she says with a cheeky smile. “I have self-control… so does he, I guess cause he hasn’t even tried to cop a feel or anything, he’s super reserved.” 
“Well yeah he’s spent 40 years being a virgin,” Penelope says without any malice, she’s just stating a fact. “He’s used to things not going there. I think you have to make the move.” 
“I was thinking that too,” she doesn’t sound excited about it. “I’m just really scared even though I know I shouldn’t be when it’s Spencer. He’s going to be very sweet and he’s already told me he thinks I’m beautiful and I feel it around him… it’s just so nerve-wracking.” 
“I was still a teenager when I had sex the first time and it was so scary, I wish I waited,” she really emphasizes Wish. “I wish I was mature and chose someone good and deserving and I wish he cared about me. But you have all those things right now, it’ll be worth it now.” 
“I know,” she tries her hardest to believe her. “I know it’ll be okay… it’s just the anticipation feels more like anxiety.”
“Which is totally normal, but it’ll go away when it happens, believe me.” 
“I do.” 
Spencer's cause goes on another 4 days. She brings him coffee and donuts after work, she meets his friends and ex-collogues and she understands now why he had to get out of it all. Emily is just a few years older than him and fully grey, JJ sneaks out to make phone calls to her family who she doesn’t see as often as she wants and Luke is still single no matter how hard he tries. The job takes things from them. 
She gives him a hug before she leaves each time, never a kiss, that would embarrass him in front of his new co-workers and his old ones would never let him live it down. So he gets just a hug. It’s long, they linger and then she goes home. 
It’s weird being home without him now that he’s been there often. She misses him dearly, every day. All through the weekend, he works. And then the case ends on a Tuesday at 3 in the morning and stays up just for her. He buys them coffee, he walks to her place and he knocks on her door right at 6:30, 15 minutes after he knows her alarm has gone off. 
She opens the door dazed and confused. “What are you doing here?” 
“I missed my best friend.” 
“Get in here,” she tugs him inside and makes him put the coffees down so she could have a proper welcome. 
She cups his face in her hands and kisses him with so much force and passion, it startles him. But he kisses her back. He wraps her up in a big hug, bringing her in closer, he deepens the kiss with the swipe of his tongue and she pushes him back against her door. It’s as fiery as the first time, it’s better than the kiss in the bookstore, there’s so much more feeling in it now. 
His hand roams up the flat of her back, over her shoulders and rests on the nape of her neck. His thumb caresses the skin under her ear, causing her to moan into the kiss and pull away, embarrassed. Her eyes go wide and she stutters on her way to find an excuse but Spencer just smiles, still caressing her, he brings his other hand up to cup her cheek, “It’s okay… you’re so cute.” 
Her cheeks heat up and she feels bashful as all hell. “Shut up,” is all she can manage to say. “I’m still half asleep, I mean, you should be lucky I already brushed my teeth before you surprised me.” 
“Mm,” Spencer hums, running his tongue over his teeth, “that’s why you’re so minty.” 
She just pulls away and reaches for her coffee, “And now I can’t drink this until the minty-ness goes away, so thank you.” 
“Should I go awa—
“No,” she rushes out. “No, you can stay. I can drive you home on my way to work.” 
“Okay,” he can’t help but giggle a bit as he makes his way closer to her, reaching out for her waist. “You like me…” 
“Shush!” She swats him away, “I have to get ready, don’t tempt me.” 
“Just one more kiss? Come on, isn’t it the deal that I compliment you and you kiss me?” He begs. “You’re so beautiful and smart and lovely—
She steps closer to him and presses her lips right to his only to pull back just as fast. He cups her face in his hands and stops her from moving away too fast and peppers kisses to her lips. “Spence— Spencer!” She giggles while trying to pull away, “Seriously, I have to go to work!!” 
“Fine,” Spencer sighs as he lets her go, only to pull her back in for one last kiss. “Okay, now you can go.” 
She just laughs as she pulls away and heads back to her room, “Come on, you can sit in my room while I get ready.” 
“Really?” He follows even though he doesn’t believe her. 
“Why not?” She doesn’t see why it’s a big deal, “I’m just doing my makeup and then I have to pick an outfit and I’ll change in the bathroom?” 
“Okay, yeah, sorry I just thought you meant you’d change in front of me and I didn’t think we were there yet?” 
“Oh, no,” she agrees. Taking a seat at her little makeup desk, she turns to him. “When do you think we should be ready for something like that?” 
“When do you want to?” He questions her right back. 
She shrugs, “I don’t know… this Saturday is 2 weeks of us being together so, I mean, most couples start moving further around then?” 
“We’re not most couples,” he reminds her. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Well,” Spencer hesitates, he looks a little nervous but he sits on the end of her bed anyway. “I’ve never had sex before… I’ve wanted to, I’ve tried.” 
“I’ve never even tried,” she’s incredibly honest. “Making out is as far as I’ve gone with anyone.” 
“Really?” He almost can’t believe it. “Why?” 
She shrugs, “I’m over-emotional and incredibly soft. I can’t do one-night stands and I’ve never trusted anyone enough to experiment before.” 
“Oh,” Spencer softens, “you feel safe with me?” 
She nods, “Extremely.” 
He gets up and wraps his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. She snuggles into him and holds onto one of his forearms, they both sigh. Completely content with one another. 
They agreed to try and go further on Friday night. They both have weekends off, so they could spend the whole weekend together if they wanted to. 
And when Friday comes, she isn’t nervous. It’s just a Friday. 
She placed an order for Chinese food when she got home from work and texted Spencer right after so he could get it on his way over. It was closer to his place and convenient this way and he just liked to get it for them. And while he’s on his way, she takes the time to bring out some comfy blankets to put on the couch for their cuddles later and she lights some candles and turns on her fairy lights. Her whole living room is set in a soft, romantic mood with the hopes that they could do more than just cuddle tonight… 
Spencer knocks 3 times to let her know it’s him and then he walks in, “Hey, so they ran out of spring rolls but they gave us egg rolls instead, is that cool?” 
“Yeah, that’s fine,” she doesn’t care, rushing over to the door she takes the bags from him and puts them on the table by the door instead.
He slips out of his shoes and puts them beside hers, then he takes his bag off and places it beside his shoes, next he takes off his coat and hangs it up. He even locks her front door for her, these are all things he’s used to doing after 2 weeks of visiting. She clears her throat when he takes too long to turn back to her, “excuse me, I’m waiting,” she teases. 
“Sorry,” he steps closer to her and places his hand on her cheek as he leans in for his welcome home kiss. It’s a new tradition that she loves so much and clearly he does too as she can feel him smile through the kiss. He kisses her once, twice and a 3rd time just because he can, “there, happy?” 
She shakes her head and cups both his cheeks, pulling him in for a longer, more passionate kiss. His hands go to her waist, holding her closer to his body, he wraps her up in a hug as well. She pulls back with an audible “mwah,” and a smile on her own face. “Now I’m happy.” 
“You’re so cute,” he compliments. “I missed you so much today.” 
“I missed you, handsome,” she compliments right back. “Um, I missed you so much I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay over tonight?” 
“Oh?” He’s only slightly surprised, “yeah, I’d like that… I just need to check my bag, hold on.” 
“Okay?” She’s a little confused about why he has to, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She just watches him open up his satchel and search the pockets. 
“Oh, good,” he says with relief in his voice as he pulls out a bottle of pills and his toothbrush. “I haven’t told you yet, but I’m on antidepressants… I take them every night before bed.” 
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she says without a second thought. “Do they help?” 
He nods, putting them back in his bag until later, “Yeah, I like them.” 
“Good, now, come on,” she grabs the bag of food and makes her way over to the kitchen so she can start dishing everything out. “Did you check that they had everything?” 
“You bet, after they forgot the red sauce last time I’m never not checking the bag again,” he says as he follows her. 
They spend a few minutes in the kitchen as they fill their plates with a variety of food. Spencer opts for a fork while she uses the chopsticks provided in the bag and then they move back to the living room. They put their plates on the coffee table and sit down criss-cross apple sauce together on the floor in front of the couch. The remote is on Spencer's side of the table, and the TV is on and ready for them to pick a show, but instead, Spencer asks how her day went. 
“Oh, it was okay with my juniors we worked on SAT prep and then with my 3 freshman classes we worked on their independent study unit and I’m now considered the cool teacher cause I let them listen to their music while they read,” she shares with a smile. “And then for my spare I filled in for Miss Tyndall, the arts teacher, so we watched a David Bowie doc while they all worked on different projects.” 
“Sounds like a fun day,” Spencer loves to listen to her talk about it all. “You’d be my favourite teacher too.” 
“I know,” she can’t help but smile. “How was your day?” 
He shrugs, taking a forkful of fried rice, he covers his mouth with his hand while he talks, “It was okay, no one died so that’s a bonus.” 
For the rest of their meal, they share little stories, about their day and things they heard on the news or on TikTok, funny anecdotes and memories from their separate pasts. It’s nice. She could listen to him all day and he felt the same. When their plates are empty, they both lean back against the couch and Spencer turns to stare at her with so much love in his eyes. 
“I’m really enjoying my nights with you,” he shares, and in the silence, she feels it. But he says it anyway, “I love you.” 
“I love you, too,” she says and a feeling of relief flows out of her in the form of a sigh. Her shoulders drop, and she looks over at him with a sweet smile, silent as they take in the moment. “I love you so much.” 
He places his hand on top of hers, both of them are in too much of a food coma to move closer or kiss or anything. They just hold hands and stare at each other. 
“I get it now,” she whispers. “I understand what she’s been singing about all these years… this feeling right here. It’s worth the heartbreak, I think.” 
“I can’t tell the future, but I know I never want to leave you,” Spencer replies, voice equally as soft. “I want everything with you.” 
Her heart starts to beat out of her chest but she knows she has to ask it. “Would you be my first?” 
“Only if you’d be mine?” 
She nods, tears bubbling behind her eyes, and she squeezes his hand. “I’d love nothing more… but I’m in a food coma right now.” 
Spencer breaks out in a burst of historical laughter first, causing her to laugh just as hard and lean into his shoulder. 
“Well, then it’s a good thing we have all weekend,” Spencer finally says, he wraps his arm around her and holds her close. 
“Even if we don’t do it tonight, do you want to sleep in my bed with me?” 
He nods against her, “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that a lot actually. It’s really hard to leave here in the middle of the night knowing you’re sleeping alone in there when we were just cuddling right here,” he motions to the couch. “I want to wake up with you next to me every morning.” 
The warmth that fills her stomach is a mixture of extreme happiness but also anxiety… it’s almost too good to be true. She pulls away and looks up at him with fearful eyes, “is it normal to fall in love this fast?” The words just tumble out of her. 
Spencer shrugs, “I mean… I’ve always heard the saying ‘when you know, you know’ and I’ve read a lot about love at first sight and the way we pick our mates based on familiar facial structures that make us feel safe… and I’ve been in love before and I never met her—
“But I understand why you loved her, she was the only person in your life other than your mother to truly take care of you and listen…” Y/N cuts him off, remembering the night he told her all about Maeve. 
“Yeah, and from the first day I met you, you’ve done the same,” Spencer reminds her. “You brought me muffins so that I’d have something to eat before work and you wanted to help me unpack and every day since you have cared for me more than anyone I know. Onto of that you’re beautiful and easy to talk to and you’re not only wonderful to me, but to everyone, you know. It wasn’t hard for me to love you, I’m just surprised you love me.” 
“Why?” 
“Well, for starters I’m a 42-year-old man who’s spent the last 20 years of my life hunting serial killers and I had a drug problem and I’ve killed people and I was in prison… you know everything and you still love me?” Spencer really can’t believe it. 
“Mhm, I love you because despite all that shit that’s happened to you, you still have a sweet smile and a big heart and the best mind I know,” Y/N confirms everything he needed to know. “I love you because you’re you. There’s no other reason.”
He cups her cheek and looks at her with the softest expression known to man, “I’m going to love you forever.” 
“Show me?” she whispers, pleading with her eyes to know just how much he loves her. 
“Do we just leave our plates here?” He teases, going to stand up. 
“I guess we can put them away,” she agrees, she moves to her knees and gathers up her own plate while Spencer does the same with his. 
They meet again in the kitchen, placing both plates in her dishwasher, she turns to the leftovers and starts to pack them away while Spencer moves back over to his bag. He grabs his phone and something else while she’s not looking and he opens up Spotify. He doesn’t have many songs saved to his account, just some classical music and the most important song… Sweet Nothing. 
She turns to him within milliseconds, “Spence?” 
He places his phone on the counter and hands her a little rock, one he picked up on his walk over to see her before work last week. He never had the time to give it to her between all their kissing and her getting ready for work. “Here… it’s only May but I can get you another rock in July.” 
She doesn’t want to speak or she’ll cry, but she manages to say: “okay,”  as she takes it from him and steps into his space to dance again. In her kitchen this time… 
She rests her head on his shoulder, his arms around her waist, they sway to the sound of the music and hold each other close. And then he kisses her shoulder and the side of her neck up to her ear. He cups her face in his hand and stares into her eyes, “bedroom?” 
“Bedroom,” she agrees, taking his hand in hers, she leads him back into her room and turns on just the one table lamp she has beside her bed, “should we light candles and stuff?” 
“Do you want to?” 
She shrugs, “I don’t know, isn’t that what people do when they have special sex?” 
“Special sex?” 
“You know, first times, birthday sex, anniversary sex… emotional sex,” she redefines what she meant and surprisingly she isn’t embarrassed. 
“Candles would be nice, then,” Spencer agrees with a smile. “Do you have condoms? Are you on the pill?” 
She smirks, “I bought some condoms on Tuesday after work.” 
He watches her open her bedside table and take out the box of condoms and a lighter, she hands him the condoms, “Here.” 
“Thanks,” he reads them over, latex-free, real feel, they’d work perfectly. 
While he’s reading over the box, she lights a few candles in her room and he takes a seat on the side of her bed, watching her. When she returns to him, she stands between his legs and rests her hands on his shoulders. “You’re sure?” 
“Absolutely,” Spencer smiles up at her and reaches out to hold her hips. He plays with the hem of her shirt, “how do you want to do this?” 
“Can we strip down to our underwear and get into bed and kiss for a bit and see where it goes?” 
“Of course, yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer agrees, he pushes up her shirt and she lifts her arms to help. Spencer has to stand up to pull it all the way off and then he looks down at her in her bra. “wow…” 
“Thanks,” she smirks, shaking her head as she reaches for his shirt to undo the buttons, “they’re just boobs…” 
“Just boobs,” he repeats with a small chuckle. “I’ll have you know everything about you is spectacular.” And with a rush of confidence, he cups both breasts with his hands, he runs his thumbs over where her nipples are hidden under the fabric and she has to bite her lip so she doesn’t moan. 
“Do you like that?” 
She nods and pushes his shirt off his shoulders until it's discarded on the floor. “Yeah. I don’t think you’ve ever noticed but… your hands… I watch them when you talk and when you’re tracing a page as you read really fast and you use two fingers instead of one and I’ve wanted you to touch me from the moment I saw you.”
“Mmm,” he turns her around and motions for her to get on the bed and she moves quickly, she’s resting her head on the pillows when he’s suddenly hovering over her. 
He runs his pointer finger from her chin, down her neck and between the crease of her breasts before cupping them both again and places kisses on her exposed chest. She arches into the contact and his hands follow both her arms until his fingers are interlocked with hers. Holding them over her head as he kisses her neck and shoulder. 
“So beautiful,” he whispers, “how’d I get so lucky?” 
“We have a great mutual friend, remember?” She teases,
He groans “Don’t mention her when I’m about to go down on you…” he says as he nibbles at her skin and it makes her moan, grinding her hips up against him, she wants him so bad but she still has her pants on. He sits on his knees between her spread legs and undoes the button as she lifts her hips, helping him glide them down her legs and off. He tosses them to the floor and goes right back in, gripping her by the hips he leans down and kisses her stomach… something she never thought any man would do. 
He wants her just as bad as she wants him and it’s prevalent in the way his eyes are blown out as he looks up at her, pleading with his eyes, all he says is “Can I?” And she nods. He pulls her underwear down and tosses them off only to lift one and kiss from her ankle and all the way up to her knee and then he dips in closer, smothering her inner thigh with kisses and nips and then he sucks a deep purple mark into her skin, lapping over it with his tongue before blowing on it softly. 
“Holy fuck,” she moans as he gets closer to her pussy and all she wants is his hands on her. 
Almost like he reads her mind, he moves to the other leg and hurries along until he’s kissing right along where her underwear used to meet her thigh. Then, he spreads her pussy and licks a broad stripe along her cunt. He presses a kiss to her clit next as she bucks her hips into the sensation, “Oh my god, Spence?” 
“Shh,” he whispers, looking up at her from between her legs like a man starved. “Just enjoy it, I’ve always wanted to do this.”
She’s so turned on from the teasing alone, and then he adds a finger, he gently circles it around her hole before inserting it slowly, seeing how much give she has before he takes it all. The feeling of his tongue on her is unlike anything she’s ever felt before, he’s soft yet rough and sweet yet disgusting with the noises he’s making. She can’t help reaching out and gripping his hair as her hips lift from the bed again. With only one free hand, he pushes her back down against the bed and she whines. When he adds a second finger, the stretch isn’t too much to handle, he’s so much better with his hands than she figured he’d be as he finger fucks her. His tongue on her clit and freehand trails from her hip up to grip her tit as he grinds against the mattress, he’s so into it she’s worried he might not get to really fuck her. 
“Spencer,” she pants, “holy fuck Spence, please, oh my god,” she can barely make it through the sentence when his fingers curl and her legs tremble.
“Cum for me,” he growls against her and her body listens as she jolts forward and she feels the rush flow through her bloodstream. 
“Oh!” she cups her breast and arches her back, oblivious to how he watches her while still lapping at her clit. 
When it gets to be too much for her, she grips his hair tighter and pulls him off, “fuck me, now… please?”
“Is it an order or a suggestion,” he teases as he kisses back up her body with his glistening and wet lips, “well?”
“Please?” She looks at him with the sweetest, most fucked out expression. “That was amazing, baby.” 
“Fuck,” he groans and drags himself off the bed so he can push his pants and boxers off in one fell swoop. Now, only in his mismatched socks, he doesn’t really have the time to take them off as he reaches for the abandoned box of condoms at the foot of her bed. 
She watches contently as he hastily rips it open and rolls it on before he gets back on the bed. He gets right back to where he was, between her legs, he places his hands on her knees and soothes them down her inner thighs, “you sure?”
She nods, “I’m ready.”
“Okay,” he says with a deep breath, readying himself in the meantime, he grips himself at the base and pushes the head into her, inch by inch, he watches as her mouth opens in a silent gasp. 
“My god…” he coos, “it’s like you were fuckin made for me.” 
She’s speechless, reading out for more of him, she’s desperate for his touch. Her hands land on his hips, his skin is so soft and warm and then they’re flush together. He bottoms out and stills, he drops down so that they’re chest to chest and she cups his face instead, “Hi…” 
“Hi,” he manages to laugh, holding himself up with one arm, his other hand pushes her hair back off her forehead and stays there. “I love you.” 
“I love you,” she says as she pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, he collapses onto her and wraps his arm around her, angling her hips up as he starts to thrust. 
The kiss gets hungrier, and they moan into each other as he picks up the pace, really fucking her just like she asked him to. She has no idea where this side of him came from but she can’t explain how much she likes it, the hand that was once in her hair is now pushed into the pillow, bracing himself as he hovers and fucks her deeply.
She absentmindedly runs her hand along his forearm and takes his hands in hers, interlocking their fingers before he holds it over her head again and fucks into her with vigour. Her legs wrap around him, every trust grinds his pubic bone against her clit and she’s still so sensitive, she’s so incredibly close that all she can do is sloppily kiss him and moan into his mouth.
His hips snap faster and faster as he fucks her and she can’t hold back anymore when she tosses her head back and sucks him in more. “Oh my god,” and “Holy fuck,” is all she can say, making him smirk. 
He’s trying his hardest to keep his composure, breathing quickly, it’s the best workout he’s ever had trying to keep the pace and please her right. “I might,” he says between pants, “I might last a while… cause my meds—
“I don’t care,” she uses her free hand to cup his cheek again, “I want to stay here forever, holy shit.” 
“Yeah?” 
She tosses her head back again, “Oh my god, yeah!” 
He just laughs and it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever heard. She’s right there at the edge when he retrieves his hand from behind her back and rubs his thumb over her clit, “you can cum, if you want.” 
“No, no, it’s fine,” she says, running her hand down his chest and looking between them to see what he’s doing, “I want to finish with you.” 
His grip on the hand she’s holding gets tighter, he’s sweaty and losing stamina and nowhere close to being done. “Do you want to switch positions?” She asks, “It’s okay?” 
“Can we?” He slows to a stop, “you’re okay with that?” 
“Spence, I love you,” she reminds him, “It’s fine, it’s better than fine, actually… I’ve heard all my friends talk about dudes who last 5 seconds, this is more than I ever expected.” 
“I’m just anxious, you can see why I take them,” he gets all blushy and bashful as he lets go of her hand, pulls out and sits back up on his knees. 
She sits up too, taking her bra off in the process. She tosses it to the floor and his jaw drops when he sees her naked chest, “fuck..” He mumbles under his breath. 
“Here, you sit up against the headboard,” she suggests, moving out of the way so he can take her place. 
Once he’s settled she straddles his hips and takes his cock in her hand, angling it toward her entering as she sits upon it. Once he’s fully inside she drapes her arms around his shoulders and smiles at him, “We can do it this way… now you’ve got a face full of tits.” 
His hands soothe down her bare back down to her hips, he licks his lips as he looks at them and helps her glide her body against his. “My god,” he all but moans, watching her boobs jiggle as she starts to really ride him. 
“You’re so deep,” she moans, tossing her head back again to free up her neck, he pulls her in and kisses her from her shoulder up to her ear, lighting sucking at her earlobe, he brings his hand up to cup her cheek and ends up gripping her hair at the nape of her neck and pulling her to the side so he can messily smother her in kisses. “No marks, I have teenagers to teach, ‘member? They’re fucking ruthless.” 
“Mhm,” he mumbles, too into it to really care, his other hand reaches down to thumb at her clit, he’s getting close and she wants to finish with him. 
He finally does cup her face with the hand that was just in her hair, he caresses her cheek with his thumb, pulling her back in for a kiss that’s all tongue. She moans into his mouth, running her hands down his chest, she uses his as leverage to keep pushing back before grinding down on him, he’s right against her g-spot and so fucking deep she can feel him everywhere, “Spence,” she whines, pulling back from the kiss, “are you close?” 
“Uh-huh,” he pulls her back in, kissing her deeper, he wraps both his arms around her back and lifts her up, laying her back against the bed and slams his hips into hers over and over. 
Her back arches again and she opens her mouth in a silent moan, it’s so good she can barely breathe. She reaches out for him, gripping his biceps, he attacks her neck again, covering her in sloppy kisses and hot breath. His pelvic bone grinds against her clit, again and again, bringing her right to the edge again until she finally peaks, moaning, she arches her back as her orgasm rushes through her but he doesn’t stop. He fucks her through it, chasing his own high. 
“Fuck, I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbles, through his last few thrusts, and then he stills with a groan, filling the condom, he drops down against her. 
they’re a ball of limbs, holding each other so close she doesn’t know where she ends and he begins. He buries his face in her neck, still kissing her, she holds him tighter, “I love you so much, too, Spencer.” 
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