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renjunphile · 3 years

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offside | lee donghyuck / haechan

⇢ word count: 16.5k ⇢ pairing: nct's lee donghyuck / haechan x female reader ⇢ tags: football!au, fluff, angst if you squint, summer romance!au ⇢ synopsis: lee donghyuck was one of south korea's brightest prospects coming into the 2018 world cup, up until a season-ending injury just days before their training camp wiped him out. you were a sports medicine and physiotherapy student excited for your summer with NCT FC, but what caught you off guard was being assigned to every step of lee donghyuck's journey to recovery. ⇢ note: this fic is a long one that means a lot to me. before getting into kpop, i was a football fan and wrote many fics for footballers. i stopped watching and writing about football once i got into kpop, but i started this fic around 2019 and wrote maybe 5-6k before giving up and letting it sit there for 2 years. i picked it back up during the euros and i definitely did not expect for it to stretch this long. however, i lost my momentum around the end which is why there's a lot of time skips and jumps, but i really just wanted to wrap it up and give it an ending and send it out into the world. this is really more of a fic for myself, but if you would love to read it, then please go ahead and let me know your thoughts. there's also a lot of football-specific content, but i hope i explained some things. if you're confused about anything or have any feedback, please don't hesitate to message me!

INFORMATION THAT MAY BE USEFUL TO NON FOOTBALL FANS: - The World Cup happens every 4 years and in 2018, it was held in Russia - South Korea was in a group with Sweden, Mexico and Germany and pulled a shock victory over Germany, who were the winners of 2014's World Cup so, after the group stages of the tournament, Germany didn't even make it to knockouts. Neither did Korea but I mayyy change the results! - The World Cup itself lasts for about a month! But national teams train at training camps for weeks beforehand, often playing 'friendly' games with other teams (they're not friendly, they just don't count to anything) - It's quite unusual for young players to be part of the 11 that regularly plays in a team unless they're incredible - the seasoned veterans are left the task and the young players are just taken for 'experience'. Teams take 23 men to the World Cup but maybe 16 of them get regular playing time - An ACL tear is an anterior cruciate ligament injury, which affects the knee. It's one of the worst injuries a player can get and they may never truly return to the form they were in before the injury. Recovery is like 6 months or more. Typically, it takes about 1-2 years for full recovery, but football players typically take 7-12 months out ;-; Also, not all players need or choose to have surgery and they definitely do not have surgery as soon as the injury is sustained (at least a few days/weeks after to reduce swelling and can even be done after months) but for the sake of this, I chose not to follow that. - Also the Korean top division league season doesn't follow the typical European dates, but I wrote this story as if the K-league followed the usual August-May/June dates that gave the summer for the World Cup/tournaments/breaks/training

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SET IN 2018, AGED 18

Donghyuck doesn't really remember too much from when it happened. He doesn't even really remember how it happened. One moment, he was juggling the world at his feet, eyes up, looking for his teammates, and the next? He was on the floor, able to recognise only 1 feeling: pain.

Later on, he'd be able to watch in full HD how a fight broke out immediately after, as his teammates tried to gang up on the opponent who caused him harm. He'd be able to watch as his best friend, Mark Lee, was given a red card for pushing and shoving the one who tackled Donghyuck far too violently, and he'd be able to watch how his team lost that game. It didn't matter; his team had already won the league. But the consequences of Donghyuck's injury went deeper than a lost game.

There are a few flashes he can remember- a few spots of light in the darkness that engulfed him. Donghyuck could remember how his captain, Yuta, migrated instantly to his side, leaving it to the vice-captain, and all-around giant, Johnny, to break up the fight that ensued.

He could remember how Yuta's usually hard game-day gaze melted in empathy as he examined Donghyuck's legs and met his eyes. Donghyuck could remember Yuta asking him what kind of injury it felt like, and when Donghyuck was too frozen to reply, Yuta sighed, patted his shin guard and beckoned for the paramedics to come faster.

He was stretchered out from the field alongside Mark hanging his head in shame for instigating the fight, but much later on, this picture on the TV would erupt a smile from Donghyuck and Mark alike.

It was an ACL tear. One of the worst injuries a football player could get.

Donghyuck vividly remembers this one moment as he was carted off in an ambulance to the nearest hospital. The game was still going, but Donghyuck was collapsed in the back of an ambulance, listening as the team's physiotherapist predicted the verdict.

"Don't be so down, Donghyuck. You won't miss much of next season since we just ended this season. You've got the whole summer to recover," Donhyuck noticed the way that his physiotherapist worded his phrases.

"A whole summer, in Korea, and not in Russia," the sound of his heart shattering pierced through the ambulance sirens.

"I'm really sorry, Hyuck," his physiotherapist squeezed his hand as more tears squeezed out of Donghyuck's eyes.

Mark Lee was the first to visit Donghyuck in the hospital when the team was given the green light to visit. The whole of NCT FC sat down at their training grounds that morning and devised a schedule for when everyone could visit Donghyuck so that he wasn't too overwhelmed with visitors. Of course, his best friend, Mark Lee, was at the top of the list.

"How're you doing, Hyuck?" Mark asked gently, placing the bouquet of sunflowers on a table near the window of the hospital suite. He also placed Donghyuck's favourite chocolate bar on the bedside table.

"Fine," Donghyuck murmured, "Shouldn't you be on a plane to Austria?

Mark gives him another smile, "Head Coach Shin gave us an extra 2 days to get there. He told me yesterday he'd call soon."

"He already has," Donghyuck states.

Mark bites his lip in contemplation as to whether he should even ask, "Oh yeah? What'd he say?"

"He says he feels sorry that I couldn't make it to the World Cup this summer and that he wishes I could have since he was excited to utilise me. He told me that next time-" Hyuck pauses as his words get clogged up in his throat, "Next time, I'll lead Korea into glory."

"And you will, Hyuck," Mark pats his leg, "I'm really sorry you can't make it there with us. I guess the world isn't ready for you yet. The European and South Americans can have their final chance to gain victory since next time, you'll win the tournament by yourself with your free kicks alone!"

"Mark, stop," Donghyuck's voice wavered, "I appreciate it, but God, Mark- it hurts. We're supposed to do this together. You and me. We joined the academy together, we broke into the professional team together, we broke into the first team together and we were meant to be going to Russia together. Coach said he wanted to use me for the team. That I was in his first 11 plans. Do you know how rare that is, Mark? For an 18-year-old to be playing regular minutes at the World Cup?"

"I know, Hyuck, I know Hyuck, and I'm sorry we can't go to Russia together," Mark decided to shorten his words, not wanting to upset the boy more and instead just be with him.

Donghyuck pressed his lips together and looked away from Mark, "Tell everyone to dedicate their goals to me, okay?"

A small grin had begun to grow upon Mark's face, who ruffled Donghyuck's head in affection, "And every tackle too."

"Every yellow and red card too," Mark beamed.

Donghyuck scoffed, folding his arms, "Maybe yellow but I'm not gonna be responsible for Doyoung's anger issues."

Kim Doyoung was one of the elder members of the team, one of a group who had practically raised Donghyuck, Mark and the rest of the younger players. Although Doyoung was incredibly sweet, mature and kind with a tendency to adopt the mother role in the squad, the minute an opposition did something wrong by him, he transformed into a completely different person as a means of defence.

Mark stayed for a few hours longer, not saying too much and definitely not talking about the impending World Cup. He left at night, citing that he had some important thing to do, but Hyuck knew he was just last-minute packing for Russia, unlike Hyuck who had packed for the World Cup weeks ago and yet would never use the suitcases in the corner of his bedroom.

The next day, his teammates that were on the South Korean National Team visited. All of them packed into a room and made Donghyuck feel a little bit lighter. They themselves didn't mention the World Cup once and instead chose to relive their worst injuries just to brighten Donghyuck's mindset, which was of one thinking his career was over. Johnny and Taeil had both suffered ACL tears too, and they were playing perfectly fine and Doyoung had had surgery before and he too was playing amazing. At some point, Taeyong and Jungwoo FaceTimed Hyuck from Jaehyun's phone in the room and Hyuck had to pretend to miss the Austrian mountains behind their faces from the training camp before Russia.

Taeyong and Jungwoo were ex-NCT FC players, who had ventured out of the continent to play for top-class teams. Taeyong was NCT FC's ex-captain who had just ended his first season abroad at Real Madrid in Spain and felt terrible about how the boy he had practically raised couldn't make it to Russia (there were a lot of tears for a few minutes) and Jungwoo was a good friend he made in the reserve team who was one of the star players for Chelsea, in England.

The day after that, his team captain Yuta visited with their Chinese teammates of Kun, Lucas, Ten and WinWin. Yuta wasn't due to Japan's training camp for another day, while the Chinese National Team didn't qualify for the World Cup. At least he wasn't going to be all alone in Seoul for the summer. They gave him a lot of motivational talks and made him promise not to give up on his World Cup dream.

Then, his other best friends visited. Chenle, Jisung and Jeno were all on the B-team for NCT FC, which was understandable since they were young with Jisung even only being 16. Jaemin and Renjun were ex-academy players for NCT FC and were scouted to play for Borussia Dortmund in Germany, where they were killing it and racking up minutes under their belts in a top league at such a young age. They had arrived in Seoul the day before and arrived to the hospital suite with a myriad of German and European snacks. All of them wept together by the end, squeezing each other tightly and promising they'd all be at the next World Cup together (they prayed for a miracle to happen to the Chinese National Team first for this to happen).

By the end of the visitations, Hyuck had been distracted from his injury a little, and it was only when his physiotherapist came in with an anticipating grin that the world came crashing around him and his lonely, vacant hospital room.

"Lee Donghyuck, huh?" you flip through his file, grimacing at the injury description in bold just above a list of all his achievements, "It's a shame."

"We were rooting for him. He's South Korea's most hopeful prodigy and we wanted to show off his skill on the world stage. There is no doubt that offers from the European powers would come in quickly after seeing how he plays. Barcelona offered £20 million for him two months ago, but if he had been in Russia? You could quadruple that price," the team's physiotherapist hummed as he pulled into the parking lot of the hospital.

"He's my little brother's idol," you chuckle, "Can you believe it? He's 18 and has fans. Is he that good?"

"One of the best young stars I've ever seen, to be honest," he replied, "We don't like to tell him as to not boost his ego. I'm really devastated for him."

"Oh well. South Korea has a tough group this year anyway," you shrugged, closing the file, "I can't imagine South Korea beating Germany."

"But Donghyuck is the player that can change the game in one second. I see a lot of Yuta and Taeyong in him. Last summer, the club had a pre-season friendly with Real Madrid. Yuta was on vacation and Taeyong was nursing an injury, but other than that, we had our full 11 and so did they. You know, Ramos and Kroos and everything. Good players, right? Incredible. We were losing by 2 at halftime. Donghyuck was brought on at the 60th minute and scored 3 goals by himself in 30 minutes against some of the best defenders in the world," he recounted, "You never know how Russia could go if Donghyuck was there."

Your heart falls listening to the physiotherapist, Kim Junghwan, rave about the newest star of NCT FC and the future of South Korean football. You're not a football player nor a crazy ultra, but you were an avid watcher and you do know that the World Cup is one of the most, if not the most, important tournaments in the game. You'll never be forgotten if you make your mark at the World Cup.

"Hey, at least he has an Olympic gold medal," you had read that feat on his sheet, "Exempt from military service right?"

"Oh yeah, the Olympics 2 years ago," Junghwan recalls fondly, "Only under-21s could play in the Olympics and Donghyuck, Jeno, Mark and Jaemin killed it there. NCT FC is lucky to have them."

"Jaemin?"

"Yeah, he used to play for the B-team until a club in Germany, Borussia Dortmund, scouted him. If he didn't go, he'd definitely be the future of NCT FC, but he did tell me that he at least wants to retire here like Taeyong said he'll do too. I think he's just waiting for the older generation, like Yuta and Ten, to start slowing down or transfer because if he stayed, he wouldn't have gotten regular minutes."

"But playing in Europe is any footballer's dream right?" you frown.

"I guess, but NCT FC is a family. All our players now? We raised them up from the ground. All their hearts are in Seoul," Junghwan states proudly, "I just said Barcelona offered for Hyuck, right? The club almost went through with it, but Donghyuck refused it. He refused one of the best teams in the world because he wants to develop here. He's attached."

"Wow," you uttered, impressed at his commitment and growing sadder at his injury, "I can't wait to meet him."

"He's a nice boy."

Walking into his hospital room, you were nervous. Of course you were! You were about to meet one of Korea's top stars who was in a very vulnerable and sensitive place in his life, dealing with his first major injury. Sports stars suffered injuries all the time, but it was very rare for it to be as serious as it was, and it was very unlucky for Donghyuck to suffer such a grave injury so early to his career and right before one of the most important summers of his life.

"Hey Hyuck, are you ready to start rehabilitation today?" Junghwan chimed gleefully.

You shut the white door behind you and examined the surroundings. Donghyuck was watching on the portable TV, encased in white walls made brighter by the heaps of balloons, flowers and decorations people had brought him. He sure was popular.

Donghyuck was about to respond as cheerily as he could muster (which wasn't very) but he immediately noticed you behind his familiar physio. His eyes shifted between the two of you and his brows pulled towards his eyes in confusion.

"Oh, this is Y/N. She's just finished her first year of sports medicine at SNU with a focus on physical therapy and rehabilitation," Junghwan explained, "You know that we take in some college students every summer for placement and experience so Y/N will be assisting me all summer in helping you."

The face that Donghyuck had made was one you hadn't expected, "Seriously? Hyung-nim, my injury is so serious! I need to recover in 6 months for the Asian Cup at least if I can't make it to the Olympics. I can't have some first-year college student who doesn't even have a degree yet treat me like her doll to play with!"

"Yah! Lee Donghyuck!" Junghwan exclaimed in displease, "What is wrong with you? I've never seen you act like this! Apologise right now!"

"Why do I need to apologise?" he screeched back, "I'm protecting myself because my whole entire career is on the line!"

"It will be on the line when I tell the head coach you're acting like this and CEO Lee Sooman hears of the way you're acting to someone who wants to help you," Junghwan fought back, "Y/N is incredibly smart and incredibly capable. Hyuck, I care about you and I want you to recover as fast as well, so I would not bring Y/N with me if I didn't think she could help."

"Hyung," Donghyuck groaned out, "Hyung, I need to recover. I need to."

You were stood there in front of the door paralysed as you watched Donghyuck turn into a suddenly angry, arrogant football star into a vulnerable, shaking mess of a teenager. You read the room quickly, judging by the gifts piled up all around the room.

For the past few days that he'd been confined to the hospital room, he had been playing optimistic and happy with any teammate and friend that walked through the doors. He had been putting on shaky smiles to his teammates, assuring them that he would get over this blip in his career successfully when his mind was full of doubts and negative thoughts.

"You're Lee Donghyuck. Of course, you'll recover," Junghwan was brushing the hair that had flopped over Donghyuck's face away and the endearing site caused you to shake out of your frozen statute, "You're the boy who single-handedly defeated the best team in the world-"

"After NCT FC," Donghyuck sniffled.

"After NCT FC," Junghwan chuckled, "And you're Lee Donghyuck who scored the winning goal at 16 in the Olympic final against Neymar's Brazil. You're Lee Donghyuck who shocked the world by refusing Barcelona because you're wise and loyal. You're Lee Donghyuck who is Korea's present and future."

The boy seemed to calm down, but he still wasn't acknowledging you.

"So, Lee Donghyuck, I'm going to leave you here with Y/N and get some food from the cafeteria. You're going to apologise like the nice boy I know you are and we're going to get you started on your rehab," Junghwan broke out slowly, "Okay, Hyuck?"

Donghyuck's warm, teary eyes fluttered over to you before he reluctantly nodded, "Okay. Can you get me some chocolate milk please?"

You let a little sound reminiscent of a giggle through your lips, but Donghyuck hadn't noticed.

"Just this once," Junghwan teased, "Now, apologise."

He quickly left the room and you were left all alone with the boy that has kind-of slandered you just moments earlier.

Donghyuck was squinting at you, and you felt conscious, not knowing if his nice act was all that you thought- just an act. He tilted his head like a puppy, and you could admit that he was cute, "So, are you my noona?"

You grin, "You're not the only prodigy around here, Lee Donghyuck. I finished high school a year early so we're the same age."

He nodded slowly, "Impressive. I guess I'm sorry for the way I lashed out, then."

You took a seat at the chair beside his hospital bed (which was king-sized), "You don't have to be sorry. I understand. If I were in your position, I would be sceptical of me, but please learn to trust me. I know what I'm doing if I do say so myself."

"I'll warm up to you," he presses his lips together in a tight smile, "Hopefully."

"Hopefully."

Donghyuck's stay in the hospital after his knee surgery was only meant to be for a week, but considering he was now living alone since Mark had left to prepare for the tournament, no one could take care of him all the time and his family had lives too. That was why the hospital, the club and Donghyuck all agreed on Donghyuck staying for a little longer until he was off crutches and just in a brace, which could take maybe a month, and stronger.

To be fair, Donghyuck had everything in that hospital room. He had WiFi, he had a king-sized bed, he had 24-hour medical care at the press of a button and a 24-hour food supply, even if it was sub-par, bland hospital food. His hospital suite, funded by the club, was twice as big as his room in the apartment he shared with Mark, and it was a lot cleaner.

On the fourth day that you got to the hospital, Junghwan ran a little behind and asked you to walk with Hyuck for a little while around the hospital. However, when you arrived, you quickly picked up on the various voices emitting noise outside his door- he must have had guests.

Reluctantly, you rapped at the door and entered, seeing 3 people in the room.

"Oh, Y/N! I was just telling them about you," Donghyuck greeted you, gesturing to the 3 boys, "These are Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun."

"Hi, I'm Y/N," you smiled politely, "Donghyuck if you're busy I can come back later?"

"No, no. It's fine. Where's Junghwan-hyung?" Donghyuck asked.

"He's running a little late but he asked me to take you on a walk around the hospital or something."

The one you thought was Renjun giggled, "You're like a dog, Hyuck."

"Jaemin, get me my crutches. I'm going to beat Renjun up with them," Donghyuck deadpanned before turning to you, "Yeah, let's go. Let's all walk to the cafeteria; I'm starving."

Jaemin handed the crutches over to Donghyuck as Renjun recoiled away, in fear of just in case Donghyuck would actually hit him (he wouldn't put it past him). You turned to the unfamiliar boy beside you; you hadn't heard his name up to now. You hadn't met Na Jaemin before but Junghwan had noted before who he was.

"Are you a footballer too?" you smiled towards the boy.

"Yeah, I also used to play for NCT FC in the youth squads, but I'm over in Germany with Jaemin these days," Renjun said proudly, "I'm also Chinese, by the way, but I grew up here."

"Your Korean is amazing," you complimented as Donghyuck began hobbling out of the door, "Donghyuck stop putting so much pressure on your other leg. Your injured leg can still hold some of you and use the crutches properly please."

He turned back to you, squinted his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you before huffing and following your orders.

"Y/N, you must be so smart," Jaemin grinned at you, appearing on your other side while Jeno walked up ahead, "Finishing high school a year early and being at university already. We're all the same age here."

"You seem even smarter because Jaemin is failing all of his classes right now," Renjun snorted.

"Hey! It's really hard getting your high school diploma while playing for a huge team abroad and learning German too," Jaemin whined, "We can't all speak a billion languages! Hyuck dropped out of high school ages ago- at least I tried!"

"He did?" you murmured.

"It's not like he needs it," Renjun shrugged, "He'll get a trillion-dollar transfer offer soon, I think. What happens to us if we fail? I mean, I know me and Nana got scouted but there's always that possibility. With Hyuck, it was all or nothing and we couldn't talk him out of it."

"Is there anywhere he wants to go especially?" you asked, curious to know more about the boy you were gonna help treat for the next few months. Donghyuck seemed oblivious, having a loud, animated conversation with Jeno up ahead.

"If it was his choice, and the best choice for his career, he'd stay," Jaemin answered, "But Europe is where the money's at. Donghyuck doesn't even care about money, but people are willing to pay big money for him and eventually, the club will have to do it. The club's a business at the end of the day. I'd love to have him at Dortmund, but they don't do big money moves; they only ever receive the big money."

"I'd like to think he'll enjoy it in England," Renjun added, "Or Spain, actually. Maybe with Taeyong-hyung at Madrid."

"I don't think he'd ever leave Mark though. It's probably a clause in his contract that Mark has to come with him if any club wants him," Jaemin continued, "But Mark and Hyuck are electric together. Clubs probably would want them both."

"I haven't met Mark," you smiled fondly at how much Hyuck raved about his best friend, "But I feel like I have."

"Yah, you three are so slow," Donghyuck stopped and whined, "What are you even gossiping about?"

"You," Jaemin quipped, "I'm telling Y/N about that time when we went to Jeju and you-"

Donghyuck made the motion to swing snd throw his crutches and Jaemin yelled out and cowered away.

"Don't. You. Dare." Donghyuck threatened through gritted teeth, "Ya, Y/N come in the elevator with me. The rest of you- wait until it comes again or take the stairs."

The three boys groaned in protest and began talking at once, to which Donghyuck shushed them firmly before beckoning you into the open elevator and waiting for the lift to close.

You looked at him, puzzled, "We all could have fit."

"I know," he smirked, "Do you find either of them attractive? Nana and Renjun? They've taken a liking to you it seems."

Your face contorted into a mix between confusion and bewilderment, "We've had 1 conversation together!"

"Yeah but girls like Nana a lot," Donghyuck shrugged, "Nana's flirty and Renjun has some weird spell he casts over girls. But don't do it- they live so far and the time difference is hard to keep up with. We can barely hold proper conversations."

"I'm not about to date your teammates right now, Donghyuck," rolling your eyes in humour.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" he pressed.

"Well, no, but-"

"Then be careful. Na Jaemin is lethal," he snarled jokingly, "They might be around a lot this summer. Nana and Renjun and Jeno chose not to go anywhere this summer, even before I got injured. They might've gone over to Russia to catch a few games, but other than that, those losers wanted to come home and kick it back here in Seoul. Wouldn't put it past them to be kicking a ball about in a random park somewhere on sunny days. Anyway, do you know when hyung is gonna be here and what we're gonna do?"

"He said he was gonna run an hour late," you shrugged, "And I think just your basic stretches and practising walking like now to get your strength back up, which is the main thing."

He sighed as the elevator doors parted, "It's gonna be a long summer, Y/N-ah."

Donghyuck wasn't having one of his better days. Today, he was groaning and non-compliant and whiny. You guessed that it was because you were progressing into the next phase- walking without the support of crutches around 2 weeks after the surgery.

"It hurts," he hissed, throwing himself onto his bed, "I don't want to do this anymore."

Junghwan patted him on the back as he sat back up, "I know Hyuck, but we really need you off the crutches. I know you're strong enough too. Do you want to break up for lunch now?"

You glanced up to the clock that read about half-past 12. Usually, Donghyuck got hungry around 1, so it wasn't such a strange time. The footballer sighed and nodded, "Are we going out for lunch today again?"

Junghwan chuckled, "You're complaining about exercising and doing your stretches to get off your crutches yet you'd go out for lunch?"

"But food," Donghyuck humphed, "The temporary pain it'll bring me to walk to the car and to the restaurant will be alleviated by the food. But I guess you could go grab the lunch and we could eat here?"

"I'm not your personal assistant Donghyuck," Junghwan caught his glance to you, "And neither is Y/N. I'll go get lunch for us, but I'm picking. No fighting kids."

You bid a quick goodbye to Junghwan, offering him some money to which he refused and then you were suddenly left in a silent room with the boy.

"Did you watch the match against Sweden last night?" Donghyuck began, readjusting himself on his bed so that he was sat up with the top half of the bed supporting him.

"Yeah, it was a good game."

You still veered on the fence of cautious around Donghyuck about the World Cup, because you still hadn't fully gauged his feelings about not being there. It was obvious that he had been upset about it primarily, but you weren't sure if he had yet accepted it and taken it in his stride to get better and just focus on that while supporting them. He seemed in fine spirits anyway, other than the newfound stress that his knee was undergoing.

"Oh c'mon Y/N," he rolled his eyes playfully, "I know you like football. I heard from Junghwan that the physio students could choose which sport they wanted to intern with this summer."

You laughed, relaxing in your seat, "Taeyong did score a really good goal, I must admit."

"I bet we're going to beat Germany," he chided, "Imagine how amazing it would feel to beat the current World Cup winners. I FaceTimed Mark in the dressing room after the game and they're so pumped up! Coach is happy with the 2-0 win."

"Johnny made really good saves last night to keep that clean sheet," you nodded, recalling how the goalkeeper had saved a penalty that one of the centre-backs clumsily gave away.

"To think he almost played for America," Donghyuck chided as he crossed his arms, "He wouldn't have half the talent in the team with him. Anyway, did you see how angry Jaehyun-hyung got when Rowoon-hyung made that tackle against the other team?"

"It was kind of scary, but at least Johnny's a great keeper," you recalled, "Rowoon doesn't play for NCT FC right?"

"He plays for a different club in Spain. I can't remember which," he shrugged.

Over the past 2 weeks, Donghyuck had warmed up to you as he had hoped, and you found that there wasn't a single flash of that boy that had snapped when you first came into the room. He was truly incredibly sweet and cheeky and determined to get back to playing, most of the time. He was still an 18-year-old boy, so you gave him some passes on a few tantrums, given that he was injured. Other than that, he made great company on your breaks and made nice conversation. He always asked you questions as if he was genuinely interested in what you learn and what you want to do. To be fair, he had told you that he stopped receiving proper full-time education by the time he was 15 to focus fully on his career, so he lived the university and high school life vicariously through the stories you told. You found it endearing- how not self-absorbed you originally were scared he might be.

"Y/N. Y/N. Y/N-ahhhhh," he whined, recapturing your drifting attention.

"Oh, I zoned out."

"Duh," he joked, "What do you think my prognosis is looking like?"

You chose your words carefully, "Well, I'm not a doctor, but I've sat in some of the meetings with the club and hospital doctors and physios-"

"And I wasn't invited?" he shrieked.

You shot him a pointed look, "We're probably talking at least 6 months out. It's not the severest case NCT FC has seen, but severe enough to constitute a surgery. You'll hopefully be back after the winter break."

Donghyuck winced, thinking about the ACL tear that kept Taeil out of the squad for a whole season in the first season that Donghyuck played with the first team, "Why does it feel like there's a but?"

"But it all depends on how hard you work for it," you sighed, "And how your body responds. It's under a lot of stress with all of this. It's your first major injury."

"I'm determined," he huffed, "There's nothing else I want more in the world than to be back out there. Football's my first love. Fuck the World Cup, fuck the league. I just want to know that I'll still be able to play in any capacity."

"Don't be dramatic, Donghyuck," you laughed, patting the cast, "You'll be okay."

He looked up to you with his large, glittering eyes as you towered above him after getting up from your chair, "I trust you."

His words sat a little funny in your stomach, but you just gave him a tight smile and prayed for Junghwan to return a little quicker.

You rubbed your eyes as your other hand reached up to the door to knock, "Donghyuck, it's Y/N," you called softly as you then pushed open the door.

He was fully off crutches now, but still in the hospital room for at least a week longer to ensure he was settled with the new phase of physical therapy. You didn't see him every day, though he did take up a large majority of the time you spent at your placement with NCT FC, considering he had the most serious injury. Even still, your placement was with the club and not with Lee Donghyuck, so you spent around 1 or 2 days a week at the club with the other physiotherapists and players, and 3 days assisting Junghwan with Donghyuck. Even Junghwan didn't see Donghyuck every day and just trusted that he followed the recommended exercises and instructions for rehabilitation.

Today was one of the days that Junghwan was at the club with the other players, but he had asked you to be with Donghyuck today to just monitor him as he could not come in a couple of days before.

You were surprised to walk into a dim room, with blinds drawn and no noise other than the air conditioning whirring. You frowned as usually by 9 AM, Donghyuck was bright and cheery and it was already 10:30 AM.

Donghyuck's top half was curled and cuddling a pillow adorably, but his bottom half remained straight and still, restricted by the thick brace hugging his knee. The duvet was pulled up to just above his nose and you could hear his deep breaths as you approached.

He looked really peaceful- really calm; a stark contrast to his stitched eyebrows and frustrated expressions as you and Junghwan continued to push him harder as per his rehabilitation plan. You hated to wake him up, but you gently gripped his shoulders and lightly shook, "Donghyuck, wake up. It's Y/N."

You repeated this a couple more times until he drew in a sharp breath and stirred. Light sleepy groans came out of his mouth as the duvet slipped past his chin. He continued shuffling before his eyes fluttered open, "Y/N? What are you doing here? Isn't it yours and Junghwan's day at the club?"

"You just have me today. I didn't come in the other day remember? On my other day at the club? So he asked me to come in today here instead of at the facility," you explained slowly as you watched him wake to consciousness.

"Yay," he smiled, still sleepy. You thought his messy hair and tired eyes were adorable.

"Why are you still asleep? I'm not saying you can't but usually, you're up and ready to go by the time we get here in the morning," you queried.

"Up all night until 3 or 4," he clicked a button on his remote that caused the bed to move upwards so he could sit up, "Match was at midnight, then Taeyong-hyung called me and I talked with everyone for a bit."

"Oh my God, I completely forgot. I was too tired to stay up and watch and I forgot to check the score this morning," you gasped, "How did we do?"

"Childsplay," a grin took over his face, "3-0 to us courtesy of a Jaehyun-hyung header, a tap-in from Mark and then a screamer from Jungwoo. You have to watch the highlights, Y/N! In fact, I'll get it up for you while I go brush my teeth and change."

Before you could even protest, Donghyuck had pulled his laptop from the bedside table, opened it and loaded up the match highlights. He looked up at you with those big, puppy-like brown eyes that you had gotten used to over the past few weeks, "Sit," he commanded, patting his bed while he whipped off the duvet and wiggled to get out.

He saw your hesitation and narrowed his eyes at you, "Don't get shy now, Y/N-ah. You're just sitting on my bed."

You hid the warmth rising to your cheeks and obeyed, taking the laptop from his grip as he got up and placing it on the bed as he walked to the toilet. He was right- it seemed like a great game from South Korea as you expected. The highlights not only showed the goals (it was indeed a screamer from Jungwoo into the top left corner) but also Johnny's phenomenal saves.

By the end of the 7 minutes of highlights, Donghyuck was freshly changed (when did he take his clothes out of his wardrobe?), with brushed teeth, a washed face and combed hair. You liked the messy hair anyway.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I think that Germany has it cut out for them for the match in 4 days," you nodded, proudly, "Considering they lost their opening game, I think that South Korea has a really good chance of topping the group."

Donghyuck's bright smile blinded you, "I'm so proud of them. I knew this was our summer."

You held your breath, waiting for even the slightest of inclinations that sadness was about to overcome him, but that moment never came. Donghyuck puffed up his chest and carried the pride of his nation as he folded his laptop away and looked at you expectantly, "Let's go get breakfast in the canteen? Have you had breakfast?"

"Not yet," you uttered, still anticipating his smile to even drop.

But instead, he grinned wider and hooked his arm around yours, "Then let's go down!"

Lee Donghyuck was constantly surprising you with his sunshine personality and positive outlook despite this whole situation being the worst thing that's ever happened to him. You kind of admired him a lot for it.

When you opened the door, you were met with surprise as a giant loomed over you, with a fist raised that was about to knock.

"Oh," he said, also surprised, "Who are you?"

"Yukhei!," Donghyuck exclaimed, "You didn't tell me you were coming! And this is Y/N, Junghwan's student this summer. Haven't you seen her around the club?"

"I've been on vacation," he explained, "It's nice to meet you Y/N! I'm Lucas or Yukhei- your choice."

You smiled back and replied the same, looking him up and down and noting his muscly arms and tanned skin that indicated a few weeks out sunbathing on yachts and white sand beaches.

"We were about to go down for breakfast. Did you wanna come?"

"Oh I'm starving!" he grinned, "Hyuck, are you okay walking? Do you have to hold on to Y/N still while walking? Where are your crutches?"

Donghyuck visibly recoiled, slipping his arm from yours and sighed, "No, I'm off crutches now. I was just dragging Y/N to the canteen. Where did you go on vacation?"

"I spent a week visiting my family in Hong Kong then like a week in the Maldives with a few friends," Lucas replied, "It was really nice and so hot."

"Looks like it! Your tan looks so nice and I literally look like a raw pastry," Hyuck whined, "I need to get out more."

"You're the one that doesn't wanna go on our walks outside and would rather do laps around the hospital corridors," you teased.

He sneered playfully, "But it's hot!"

"You're stupid," Lucas nudged him softly as you packed into the elevator.

Eventually, the three of you found yourselves in the familiar canteen, where Donghyuck sat himself down on an inconspicuous table neither in the middle nor too close to the door. You usually got the meals both for him and for you, just because Donghyuck found the queue clunky and awkward with his large cast and one time, a kid had quite literally crashed into Donghyuck excitedly and caused a crash that sent apples and bread flying everywhere.

"Do you get his breakfast for him?" Lucas asked you, "I'll get food with you."

You indicated to Donghyuck that you were going to get the food and he just made a noise of acknowledgement before dropping his head onto the table.

Lucas grabbed a tray and walked a half step behind, "Did Hyuck say you're working with Junghwan? So you're the resident physio student this year?"

"Yeah- I study sports medicine with a focus on rehabilitation and physical therapy. I was always gonna be at NCT FC this summer, but it just made the summer all the more interesting working with Junghwan on an ACL recovery case. Obviously, I'm not glad it happened to him," you nodded, grabbing items off the food shelves.

"No, I get you. That's pretty beneficial to you, but obviously not to Hyuck. Do you come by the club?" he was a pretty conversational guy, even when scanning the breakfast items with focus.

"Usually twice a week, so I'll see you there when you train?"

"Of course. You can come and get lunch with me at the club too; I'll treat you," he grinned, making your face heat up from his tone, "I'll never complain having lunch with a pretty and intelligent girl."

You were back by the table by the time he had finished his sentence. Donghyuck had found the strength in him to lift his face from the cream table and was now sitting with a scowl on his face.

"She's here with us to learn and gain experience this summer, Yukhei," Donghyuck stated. You couldn't place the tone of his voice- whether he was serious or not, "Not get a boyfriend."

"Hey," Lucas smirked, "There's no harm in making friends, Hyuck. You should try it sometime."

"I have plenty of friends," Donghyuck huffed, stabbing his spoon into the porridge you had bought him, "Thanks Y/N."

You didn't reply, dumbfounded by the slight tension in the air between the two.

Thankfully, it didn't carry on for much longer after you moved the conversation to the matches they had watched during the World Cup. The two were obviously in their comfort zone talking about football- so much so that any tension dissipated almost instantly once Lucas started talking about France and Croatia and Belgium looking strong.

Eventually, after the three of you returned to Donghyuck's suite, Lucas excused himself to head to training for the first time after his vacation. Donghyuck had pouted, wishing to be back at the training grounds, but you had reminded him that he was going to return to the training grounds the following day to start sport-focused rehabilitation.

"Do you like Lucas?" Donghyuck had asked you once the tall boy had left.

"Are you going to ask me if I'm going to fall in love with your friends every time I meet one of them?" you rebounded, "I just met the guy."

"Lucas' effect on girls is like Jaemin's but on crack," Donghyuck snorted, "Have you seen the guy?"

"Okay, so you date him then. So what if I get lunch with Lucas and get closer to him?"

"You can't date him," he huffed. Donghyuck pouted often; you were used to it by now.

"Why not?"

"So you want to?"

"I didn't say that. But why not? Or any of your teammates. I don't officially work for the club. I'm only here this summer."

"But you're mine," he whined.

Now that knocked the wind out of you. What did he just say? Your pupils were dilated and your cheeks pink as you took in what he said.

Donghyuck coughed, then scrambled to correct himself, "I mean, you're my physiotherapist. Well, you spend the most time with me and what if you fall in love with one of my friends and you won't care about me and you won't help me get better."

You interrupted your silence with a light chuckle, "My main focus this summer is helping Junghwan, so that includes helping you. And you know I'm not doing much for you like Junghwan and the doctors and other health professionals are. I'm just here to remind you to stretch and walk and force you to not give up."

He crossed his arms, "But without you, I wouldn't do those things."

You nudged him playfully, "You've got me all summer long, Hyuck."

You couldn't believe you were doing this. Not at all. Sure, no rules were broken by the simple act of you standing on the doormat outside of Donghyuck and Mark's apartment, but it still felt wrong.

"You're here!" Jaemin exclaimed loudly as the door swung open. He took the drinks from your hands and ushered you in.

Even from down the corridor when you exited the elevator you could hear the ruckus in the apartment. It wasn't a surprise that 6 boys packed together in a small apartment were noisy and excitable. After all, South Korea were playing the current World Cup champions.

"Y/N!" they all exclaimed in unison. You sat on the space Donghyuck had patted and motioned for you to sit in- right beside him.

"Oh, this is Chenle and Jisung. They're babies," Donghyuck pointed at the two younger boys that you hadn't met yet.

"I've met them at the club," you reminded him, saying hi to the boys, "What's with him?" you nodded over to Renjun who was pouting with his arms crossed, watching the pre-match commentary.

"He's still deciding who to support. He's not Korean and he doesn't play in Korea but he plays in Germany and he plays with a bunch of the German players, like Reus," Jeno explained from the other side of you.

"You're a traitor if you support Germany," Jisung jabbed playfully.

Renjun let out a long groan and threw a pillow at the pink-haired boy, "I just won't be on either team. If only China qualified."

"And who's fault is that?" Jaemin snorted.

"Hey, at least we actually play for the national team!" Chenle cried out, huffing and pouting like his countryman.

China didn't hadn't had the greatest reputation in terms of international football- at least not in the last few years. It was definitely still a lot more hopeful more recently, with a sudden sprout of young and talented players being cultivated abroad.

"Shut up! It's starting!" Hyuck yelled, silencing the room as you all watched the players walk out of the tunnel.

Donghyuck had invited you over to watch the match with him and his friends, though the invitation was encouraged by his friends who had taken a liking to you at the training grounds. You had almost declined, given that the match was at 11 PM and would go on late into the night, but you didn't have any other plans and were most likely going to watch alone, so you accepted and offered to buy drinks.

"Taeyong-hyung looks nervous," Jeno noted, examining the tight expression on the national team captain's sharp features.

"They're all nervous," Donghyuck added, "Germany got to the semi-finals at the Euros and they're still a strong team no matter what."

"So are we," Jaemin exhaled.

You could sense how the nervousness in the players' faces reflected onto the expressions of the boys in the room with you. How could it not? These people they were watching play were their best friends, colleagues, brothers, captains and teammates.

You weren't going to lie; your stomach was churning.

The whole match was tense, for you and the boys and the players on the field. It was surprising, though- Germany just couldn't get the ball in the back of the net. Header after header and volley after volley, the ball just wouldn't slip past Johnny Suh, who caught, punched and kicked every ball away. You could practically hear the whole nation crying out in relief every time he dived and slapped away the ball. Even though Germany were tall, they were no match for Johnny.

You knew the Korean team were great- you watched them so often, but you hadn't had the chance to see them in action against the big European sides before since they more often played their games with the AFC nations, so you weren't sure where to place them in world standings. Of course, you wanted them to win and of course, you wanted to feel the pride surging in you for a few games more, but you were nervous coming into the game.

"What happens if we lose?" Jeno had gulped in the 90th minute, seeing the heaps of extra time added on, "We still go through, right?"

"Yeah, but it's just that we have to play Brazil next since we'll go through as second place. It's ideal to win so we can play Switzerland instead in the round of 16," Jaemin explained, "I'm nervous."

"Quiet," Donghyuck's voice was commandeering as he watched Mark line up the ball at the corner flag and look up to scope his prospects.

You all watched eagerly. It was as if everyone sensed something was going to happen. That's what it felt like. It was the 92nd minute- 2 minutes into extra time, but you still felt like the game had a lot more to give. It wasn't going to end in a draw- you knew that much.

And in a flash of the sound of the ball being kicked and another thud of the ball hitting a skull, you blinked and opened your eyes to the ball in the back of the net and the 6 boys around you screaming and jumping. You were frozen to your seat as Donghyuck grabbed your arm and shook it- he couldn't quite jump with the boys with the restriction around his knee.

Jaehyun had started running, arms spread towards the Korean end of the stands, but he had been halted by a flag being raised and an uproar of boos by the Korean fans.

"What's happening? Jisung cried out desperately.

"The ref's motioning to check VAR," Renjun furrowed his eyebrows, "It might've been offside."

The boys started groaning, calling out profanities towards the situation as the incident of Jaehyun's flick from Mark's corner replayed with a focus on the ball's course to Jaehyun's feet at the far end of the post.

You all watched in anticipation as you watched the replay. It was as clear as day that the ball struck the floor and hit Niklas Süle's feet before it ended up miraculously at Jaehyun. All Jaehyun had to do was adjust and kick it past Manuel Neuer, who was too close to Jaehyun to adequately save it. The referee blew his whistle, indicating that he indeed was awarding the goal to South Korea, and the players all rushed onto the field, including all those on the bench. The 6 of you celebrated like Jaehyun had just scored again and the adrenaline was pumping through intensely.

"Oh my God, they're going through to the round of 16!" you exclaimed, "Oh my God!"

"They deserve this so much," Jeno smiled emotionally. Even Renjun seemed like his heart was gonna burst from pride, watching the boys who raised him celebrate like that.

But it wasn't over. Germany was desperate. They were bullying the South Korean's off the ball, and aggressively making half-hearted attempts at shooting, to no avail. They were never going to score that way- it was too angry the way they played.

By the 96th minute, just as the match was about to end, Manuel Neuer took his sweeper-keeper role to the extreme and dashed past the halfway line. He was playing as a midfielder- not even a defender! What was unfortunate for Germany was that Kim Doyoung caught wind of this and launched the ball at his feet all the way forwards to end up in front of Lee Taeyong. The defender guarding Taeyong cursed everyone and their families in his head as he knew that he could never match the speed of the blonde-haired boy. With a casual side knock, the ball hit the back of the net and the Korean players had collapsed onto the ground and were thanking the heavens. The referee eventually put Germany out of their misery and blew the whistle.

The 6 of you were celebrating as if South Korea had won the whole tournament, but this was enough. The non-European and non-Americas teams rarely made it out of the group stage, and South Korea hadn't been great since 3 tournaments ago when they placed 4th in 2002. Korea were the underdogs to the whole world after it was revealed they were in a group with Germany, but the team just proved the whole world wrong and made their entire country proud.

"I can't believe this," Donghyuck had said in awe beside you, "I'm so happy."

The camera panned to Mark sat cross-legged on the floor, looking up at the fans in the stadium. Johnny had approached, hugging the boy and chucking him a red jersey. Mark spread it and found the nearest camera and screamed, "Donghyuck, that was for you!" while holding up a jersey with Donghyuck's name and number.

And Donghyuck started bawling.

Jaemin eyed the door nervously and warily. He handed you the cup of warm hot chocolate and nudged you, "I think you should talk to him."

"Me? You're his best friend," you were confused why you were being sent out to talk to the inconsolable boy.

"We're all footballers, Y/N. I'd feel exactly how he'd feel if that were me. He needs an outsider perspective. And you're good with making him feel better," Jaemin sighed, "Please?"

You hesitated, staring down at the flurries of steam escaping the mug, "Okay."

It was around 1:30 AM, and after Mark's gesture, Donghyuck had excused himself to the balcony to continue crying. The 5 of you had sat dumbfounded and confused, not knowing how to interpret his reaction. Was he happy? Sad? Angry? The TV was left running with the post-match commentary as you all settled your emotions after the game. Jaemin had taken the initiative to make hot chocolates for everyone.

"Here," he handed you another mug, but for yourself this time.

The balcony door was slightly ajar, but far enough from the living room that Hyuck probably hadn't heard you speak.

"Hyuck? Can I join you?" you asked softly, leaning against the glass.

You heard strong sniffles and his sleeves rubbing at his eyes as he made a sound of acknowledgement that you took as permission. You nudged his arm with the hot chocolate and he took it without a sound, still not meeting your eyes. The streets of Seoul were lit up, and you could see far into the cityscape. This was unusual for 1:30 AM, but South Korea had just beaten Germany in the world cup a few time zones and a flight to Russia away.

"How are you feeling? What's on your mind?" you uttered cautiously, not wanting to upset the boy more.

"That I should be there with them," he stated, "God, it sounds so cocky but-"

"No, you deserved it, Hyuck," you cut in, "You deserved to be there. You deserve to be winning with them."

"I didn't ask Mark to do that, you know? I didn't even know they made World Cup team shirts for me. They're printed there, not before, so..."

"I wish you could've made it there, Hyuck. They do too," you sipped on your hot chocolate, "You're still young though. You have at least 2 or 3 more world cups in you."

"I know, I know," he sighed, "But after the season I just had? I wanted to keep that momentum going for the rest of my career, but this stupid goddamn injury just knocked me ten steps back from the 1 step I made forward."

You weren't sure what to say, but you just let out a sigh to match his, "I'm really sorry, Hyuck. But I just hope you know you have your friends inside there to support you. And me too."

He finally met your eyes and your heart melted at his glassy gaze, "Thank you for being there for me, Y/N. I know we've only known each other for a couple of weeks, but thank you."

"Friendships can be built in hours, Hyuck. A couple of weeks can be a lifetime," you chuckled, "But no worries. I'm here to take care of your health physically and mentally too."

"You smartie," he finally cracked a smile, before uttering a sentence that completely caught you offguard, "You're so pretty too, you know that right?"

Your eyes widened slightly as you stuttered to find the right words to say, "Hyuck!"

"I'm just being honest," he shrugged, "And honestly, i'm really glad you're here right now."

He was now staring straight into your eyes, gaze soft and all guards down. Your eyes flickered away from his, landing on his lips, and it seemed he had the same idea.

Donghyuck stepped closer, one feet and then two until he was stood right in front of you. He was in closer proximity than ever before and you could feel your heart beating intensely inside your chest.

"Donghyuck," you whispered, "What are you doing?"

His stare remained on your parted lips, "Will you let me, Y/N?"

"I don't know if you're in the right mind. I want you to be sure."

He exhaled, his breath fanning over your lips so that you could almost taste him, "For the first time this summer, my mind has never been as clear."

You gripped the mug between you tighter as your eyes fluttered closed and as Donghyuck pressed his lips to yours in front of the glittering Seoul landscape.

You hadn't seen Donghyuck in 2 days. As the Korea-Germany match ended late at night and Korea had won, the club gave everyone the day off, which you greatly appreciated with the headache that woke you up on Donghyuck's couch. After waking up that morning, you had dashed out to avoid any awkward conversations in case he woke up. Donghyuck and Jaemin and Chenle had slept cuddled up in his bed, while the other 3 crammed into Mark's room. They had a comfortable sofa bed, which they let you take by yourself.

But it was the day after and you knew that you were going to see him eventually. You were one of the first people that arrived to the training grounds bright and early, and met Junghwan in the rehabilitation room.

"Hi Y/N! Did you enjoy watching the match?" he smiled over at you. Junghwan had been a great mentor all summer.

"I did, thank you! That was a crazy game. Actually, Donghyuck and the boys invited me to watch the game with them so I went over and we watched together," you admitted shyly, "Is that okay?"

He laughed, "Y/N, you're only a student on placement here for the summer. You don't work for the club so date them all if you want. Even still, that's not forbidden so don't worry."

"That's not what I meant," you grumbled playfully, helping set up the room, "What's the plan for today?"

"We're going to hold a meeting with Hyuck today to review his rehabilitation plan as he finishes his 3rd week," he told you, "There shouldn't be any major changes to his plan currently, but we need to set out the future."

"Usually around 6 weeks that he has full range of movement right? And you can start doing drills again?"

"Good job for doing your research," he complimented, "Yeah, that's the plan. He's only here at the training ground because I know he misses the company of his teammates and there's a larger place to walk about."

"What time is he coming?" you were a bit nervous seeing him since you hadn't talked to him since he told you goodnight. You were too scared to text him and weren't even sure what you would have said.

Junghwan looked at his watch, "He's late, as usual. He's probably out in the changing rooms with the boys. Can you wanna go wait outside for them until they come out to start training and drag Hyuck by his collar? Shouldn't be too long."

You gulped, but nodded. You were determined Junghwan not find out anything that you and Hyuck had gotten up to, or will get up to, but you were doubtful anything more would happen. You were still unsure about the incident on the balcony. He wasn't drunk, but maybe his mind was cloudy and emotional after what Mark did. At the same time, he assured you his head was clear so did that mean that he really wanted to kiss you?

The NCT FC training grounds were as lavish as their stadium. State of the art, top facility with everything a player needed and wanted, down to a cinema room to watch football matches, but also films. You navigated to the communal area outside of the most commonly used changing room for the first team (there were multiple) and Junghwan's theory seemed to be correct judging from the noise coming from the other side of the door.

You waited patiently and nervously, not sure what you were going to say to Donghyuck, but choosing to stay professional on the training ground and talking about it some other time.

The boys eventually began filing out, and you found out from Kun that Donghyuck was indeed inside. The boys that came out all greeted you good morning as you became familiar with them over the time you spent at the grounds. Some of them even stopped to chat about the World Cup, but eventually, Donghyuck and the boys came out last.

"Y/N-ah, good morning! Why didn't you stay for breakfast?" Jeno pouted.

"I was called away by my family," you lied, "Sorry about that!"

"We should do it again," Renjun smiled.

Renjun and Jaemin were hanging around the NCT FC football grounds after being given permission by Borussia Dortmund. They were given the summer off until after the World Cup final, but the two still wanted to be around with their former teammates and friends. Somedays they participated (they weren't allowed in team tactical meetings though), and some days they remained at the edges, accompanying each other and waiting for the players' breaks.

Donghyuck lagged behind the group and smiled softly at you when you made eye contact. You were guessing that the boys didn't know what happened, or else they might've mentioned it or at least insinuated to the situation as a means of teasing by now.

"Hyuck, you're late for our meeting," you told him.

He rolled his eyes playfully, "Junghwan expected it. Plus, it's so early, but fine. Let's go. See you later."

He had said goodbye to the boys, who veered off into a different direction onto the pitch to start warming up, leaving you alone with Hyuck.

"How's your knee?" you asked cautiously.

"Fine, I just want the brace off," Hyuck answered, walking beside you to the room.

"Well, Junghwan suggests to only have it on for a few weeks longer, so it'll be soon," you shrugged, "And to be honest, studi-"

"Do you want to get lunch with me?" he interrupted, "Sorry for cutting in but I'm kind of going crazy, Y/N. We should talk."

You avoided his stare, "Yeah. Here or outside?"

"Let's get lunch out. Anywhere you want to take me," he commanded as you neared the door to the rehab room.

You nodded, a sudden wave of nervousness and butterflies overcoming you.

The drive to a nearby cafe and brunch spot was quiet but comfortable with Hyuck choosing to rest his head ok the window of the passenger seat while looking out. It was only a few minutes drive, but you didn't want to lose time walking over.

The two of you quickly found a corner table away from the busy centre of the café and ordered your food before sitting down.

"I meant it, you know? When I said my mind was clear as day?" Hyuck reassured you. It was strange- you hadn't seen him as serious like this, "And don't tell me you didn't like it- you kissed me back after."

You blushed at the memory. After Donghyuck planted his lips on yours, and you were initially too frozen to move in response, the boy had begun pulling away, but you captured his lips between yours before he could even part multiple inches away. The two of you kissed for what felt like an eternity on that balcony.

"I just want to make sure you were in the right headspace. I knew you were vulnerable."

"I wanted it to happen so badly, Y/N," he pressed on, "Don't worry."

"So what now? I mean, you're not obliged to anything. People kiss all the time in the heat of the situation-"

You were rambling and cut off by Hyuck's adorable giggles, "Y/N, it's okay. I like you. But we should do it all over again properly. Will you let me take you on a proper date? When this cast is off in a week's time?"

You looked down at the coffee in your hands. You cannot believe that Lee Donghyuck, Korea's superstar, was asking you on a date. But to you, right now, it just seemed as if Donghyuck was an ordinary guy with extraordinary talent.

"Of course, Hyuck."

He had smiled at you brightly- that famous smile that everyone in the nation adored. That famous smile he cracked every time he scored a goal, melting every household in the country. But he was smiling at you.

"Don't get shy around me, Y/N. I know you're not that shy," he giggled, "Did my luscious lips cast a spell on you or something?"

You rolled your eyes, cutting through the food in front of you, "Just eat, Hyuck."

"I like it when you call me Hyuck," he said nonchalantly, "You call me Donghyuck more often."

"I never know if I'm allowed to use it."

"It's just my nickname, Y/N. Everyone used it and you can too," he affirmed, "You think too much."

"And you're so impulsive," you jabbed.

"We balance each other out then," he winked.

The two of you ate your food in silence caused by your hunger and utter focus on the food in front of you, until you broke the silence.

"Do the boys know? About what happened?"

"No, I didn't want to tell them without your permission. And we can keep it between us for now if you like. Sneaking is fun!"

"Just for now," you nodded.

It wasn't that you didn't want the boys to know, but you just wanted to be more sure of the situation yourself first. Was it going anywhere? Would it work?

You gazed at the boy in front of you, happily eating his food. You enjoyed his company and you admired his strength and drive. He was funny and caring towards his friends, but was still in touch with his emotions to show weakness, which you considered an act of strength yourself. He was genuine on and off the pitch (from the replays of matches you had seen anyway) and Donghyuck seemed like a great guy. He had been confusing your feelings accidentally with his slightly flirtatious nature and these tiny incidents and phrases had you all the more falling for him. You asserted that if you didn't want to and didn't have a reason to kiss him on that balcony, you wouldn't have. But you did, and that said it all.

South Korea bowed out of the World Cup in the quarter-finals, beaten by a solid England side. They had made it past Switzerland easily in the round of 16, and gave the quarter-finals their best shot. This year, it wasn't meant to be. Still, they had gone further than anyone had anticipated and through this made their nation so, so proud. Upon arrival at Incheon, they were met with whoops and screams and just pure pride.

The training ground was waiting in anticipation for the team to arrive, with the outdoor area prepped with tables and tables of food and rewards. All of the players were coming straight to the training grounds from the airport to celebrate for lunch, even those that didn't play for NCT FC.

You had been invited, of course, since you had been spending the summer with the team and were a part of the club for the summer. Hyuck was beside you, with Renjun to the other side of you.

Donghyuck, who was cast free (and still date-less), was bouncing his leg up and down nervously. It was going to be hard to see the team, but he also missed them even if it was only a month or so. He had confided in you when Korea lost that this was the time he wished that he had been there. You never know what he could've done and it wasn't for certain he would have helped Korea through, but it was the fact that he couldn't do anything that pained him and made him feel helpless.

"Hyuck, are you okay?" you touched his arm in concern, which halted his bouncing legs.

He dropped his head onto your shoulder, "Mark texted me that they're pulling up. I'm scared to see them. I haven't seen Taeyong-hyung and Jungwoo-hyung and coach in so long either."

"It's okay, Hyuck. They're still the same people," you patted him.

You heard a sudden surge of noise and an increase in footsteps. Suddenly, everyone began cheering and clapping on their feet, prompting you and Hyuck to do the same. They didn't have a trophy in their hands, nor a medal around their necks, but it felt like they did in the way everyone was cheering. They had done something so memorable at the World Cup that was now ingrained in the memories of young and old Koreans alike.

Suddenly, you heard a yell rip through the cheering, "Donghyuck-ah!"

And came bounding towards you, was Mark Lee, who engulfed his best friend into the tightest, but still careful, hug.

"Aish, Mark, you act like we're lovers seeing each other after the war," Donghyuck grumbled, but it was blatantly obvious that he missed his best friend too.

"Shut up. Here, I brought this for you," Mark handed over a plastic bag. Donghyuck slipped out a stack of red jerseys- 5 of them in fact. Each one had his name on the back and the game and date for which the jerseys were made.

Donghyuck gawked, then closed his mouth before looking up at Mark, "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"You should talk to coach later. I think he wants to talk to you," Mark advised before noticing your presence and turning to you, "Hi! You're Y/N! It's so great to finally meet you."

Before you knew it, you were being engulfed by the midfielder into a hug. He seemed so friendly and the perfect complement to Donghyuck.

"And you as well. We haven't spoken but it feels like I already know you," you chuckled. Donghyuck liked to talk about his best friend and roommate a lot.

"Likewise, Y/N. Thanks for everything that you do for Hyuck. Hopefully he's back on the pitch soon," Mark smiled, taking a seat across Donghyuck after greeting the other boys at the table.

"Donghyuck-ie," the ice-blond boy you had seen tearing up the pitch on TV was now stood in front of you with a smile.

"Hyung," Donghyuck whimpered, tackling his former captain in a hug, "You did so well, hyung."

"Thank you, Hyuck. Next time, you'll be there with us," Taeyong squeezed him before letting go, "Yuta's not here yet, is he?"

"Still on vacation in Japan. When do you go back to Madrid? I think you'll be able to catch him," Hyuck replied.

"In a week, so I think so too."

Taeyong and Yuta were best friends- the first versions of Mark and Haechan. After being scouted, they trained together in the youth academy after Yuta moved from Japan and broke into the reserves and first team together. Taeyong and Yuta eventually became captain and vice-captain of NCT FC for a long period, until Taeyong was bought by Real Madrid the season prior.

"How's Madrid? You're doing so well. What's it like playing with Cristiano Ronaldo?" Renjun tugged at Taeyong's sleeve, also hugging him. Even though Renjun and Taeyong failed to play often together, Taeyong had adopted a mother-like role towards everyone in the club, including the B-team reserves.

"He's good- a real world-class player mentality. Don't tell anyone though, but he's leaving Madrid this summer and is going to sign a contract in a few days," Taeyong teased, "Don't tell anyone!"

The group of you laughed at his serious order and nodded. Taeyong was living the life in Madrid, but he admitted that he really missed everyone at the club and missed home a lot. It wasn't easy going home to Korea often since Madrid was so far.

Donghyuck introduced you to the rest of the team that you hadn't met yet, including Jungwoo who played abroad but also came from NCT FC. You met Johnny, and was in even more awe of how big of a presence he had since he was so tall. You had guessed anyway from the way he commandeered the goal and box. Jaehyun was as nice as you expected him to be- a real gentleman- and Doyoung had the same motherly vibe as Taeyong had. Taeil was one of the eldest, but was still so youthful at heart. You were glad to have met them, since they seemed like such incredible, humble players.

Eventually, you were led back to the original table so that you could eat and converse with Mark, who made himself comfortable catching up with Jaemin and Renjun especially.

"Aren't they nice? The hyungs?" Donghyuck smiled proudly to himself.

"I already knew how great this team was, but they just reinforced it. I can see why everyone wants to stay or come back or retire here," you said. This team really did seem like a family.

"I'm very proud of this team," Donghyuck stated, "Both NCT FC and the national team. It's okay, Y/N, I think I'm going to be able to move past all this."

You smiled gently, "I'm really happy for you."

"I can drive if you want," you offered for the 5th time as you approached his car.

"Y/N. I'm fine. I can drive. I don't have a knee brace anymore and I've driven a few times this week," he affirmed, getting into the driver's seat.

You slid into the passenger seat, crossing your arms after buckling the seatbelt, "You'll tell me if it's too much right? So we can swap?"

"You're too worried," he rolled his eyes jokingly, "For someone who's a physio student, you sure aren't up to date with what I can do at 6 weeks."

"It's not about timelines, it's about feelings," you grumbled as he set off.

"And i'm feeling okay," he grinned cheekily.

It was about 2 weeks after his cast was taken off, but this was the only date you were able to coordinate in your days off together. Hyuck had been pondering where to take you on your date for weeks, and he only just settled on an idea. The location wasn't even far, so you were worrying about nothing. He had been stressing what kind of vibe to go on- did you want to have an adventure, activity-filled date? Or a more laid-back chill one? Or somewhere in the middle?

The two of you continued in casual conversation on the drive there. You found out that he was from Jeju Island and was scouted at 11 to come and train at the NCT FC academy where he then lived since. His family remained in Jeju, so he considered those at the club his family in Seoul. He found out that you lived in England for a few years during your adolescence, but chose to come back to Seoul 4 years later to study at university. This then led to a laughing-fit inducing conversation that Hyuck tried to hold with you in just straight english. He wasn't bad, but he made everything he did humorous in order to brighten up the world.

Eventually, Donghyuck pulled up in the parking lot of a pretty, but relatively quiet park on the outskirts of the city. You both got out, and you lost sight of the footballer until you realised he had circled to the boot of the car and was now carrying a traditional woven picnic basket.

"We're having a picnic?" your heart melted; Donghyuck was so soft.

He grinned, "Yes, but not here. We have a little bit of walking to do."

Donghyuck then rested the basket on the crook of his arm and took your hand with the other. Every time he did this, it made you blush like crazy and you wondered if this boy would ever stop making you feel so flustered. Hyuck seemed to always just take your hand on instinct if he was taking you somewhere. It was like it was so natural to him, but it always made your head spin. Maybe you were whipped for him.

Donghyuck led you through the main park and then got to the edge where there was a large wall of bushes. He followed the bush to the corner edge, where there was a narrow break in the bush that was easy to miss if you weren't looking. On the other side was another large field that stretched on further than the pristine park, but this time, the field was a little overgrown and the best part- it was blooming with flowers.

"This is so pretty," you gasped, "How did you find this?"

"One time, me and the boys were kicking a football about in the main park and then Chenle accidentally kicked the ball into here. I come here for peace because it's so pretty. C'mon, there's a river over there."

The two of you continued further down to the right where the ground sloped down and you could see a pristine stream splashing against the rocks. The grass shortened down and the slope flattened out to a perfect place to have a picnic.

Hyuck fished a large blanket out of the basket and laid it down before taking off his shoes and inviting you to do the same.

He was now sat cross-legged in front of you, eyes wide and expectant, "Do you like it? Is this okay?"

You squeezed his hand, "More than okay, Hyuck."

The two of you hadn't been alone together outside of the facility other than when you got coffee together once after training and you drove him home. It was nice to be able to spend time with each other and really determine how you felt and where you wanted this to go. You knew how you felt, but you were still cautious to fall in case he didn't reciprocate. Why wouldn't he though? He kissed you first and he asked you on a date and he was the one that made all the moves.

Donghyuck began dishing out the food and drinks in the basket and you noticed how he brought some of the snacks you said were your favourite.

"Do you miss them already? Nana and Renjun?" you asked.

"Not enough to willingly admit," he squinted at you, "But I do only get to see them once a year in the summer- twice if we meet up for the winter holidays. It would be so much easier if they were just in the same league or country or continent, even. Instead, they're a 15-hour flight away. But their best chance for their career is Dortmund- Dortmund develop young players into superstars, and I know that's what they will be."

You sighed in agreement. Jaemin and Renjun had left a few days earlier to return to Germany and restart their training. It had been an emotional goodbye between the boys when Nana and Renjun dropped by the training grounds with their rolling suitcases and a sad smile.

"It's a testament to your bond and friendship how close you remain even from afar," you said, "Real brotherhood."

"That's what 7 years of trauma being told to kick a ball rain or shine does for you," he snorted, passing you a small brownie, "I'm kidding. I love my job."

"Everywhere I go, everyone talks about how great you are- how you're Korea's future. Doesn't that get hard?" you were wary asking, but you wanted to know.

He sighed and glanced down to his knee that was now free from a cast but still not to full strength like before, "I never thought it could be hard. Sure, I have game days that I don't play my best- everyone does. But I knew that was normal so I never beat myself up about it. I've only been starting for a season and a half, but something in me always steps up for my club and country when they need it. This though?" he jabbed at the knee, "This has been the hardest thing I've ever gone through in my life. Any severe injury like this will always be. I don't want to be kept out of the squad for 6, 7, 8 months. I don't want this so-called rest that everyone's telling me about. The hardest part about this is that I can't play."

You stared at him in awe. Maybe it was because he was only 18 that the fire in his eyes was still lit up. Maybe the multiple years of fouls and defeat and failures hadn't overcome him yet, but you loved the way he talked about football like it was his first love- because it was. You were yet to find anyone else in any other profession to love their job this much.

"Why are you staring at me?" he broke out into the familiar whiny Donghyuck tone.

You giggled and leaned in close but not close enough to touch him or even feel his breath on your face, "I think you're so adorable."

Donghyuck felt a strong surge of bravery as he closed the gap between your faces and pecked your lips swiftly, "And I think you're beautiful."

You pulled away in a little daze, cheeks painted red like they had been so often since you met the boy, "Hyuck!"

"Do you not like it?" he pouted, sipping his drink and sulking. He knew the answer, but he loved having his ego stroked.

"I hate you," you mumbled as you leaned over again and captured his lips.

This time, Hyuck tightly wrapped both muscular arms around your waist and hoisted you from your cross-legged position to fall on top of him. Donghyuck leant back so the two of you were lying down on top of the blanket, lips attached and moving freely together.

"I really like you, Y/N-ah," he mumbled against your lips as the two of you caught your breath. You hummed in acknowledgement, parting his lips with yours once more until he pulled away, frowning, "I want to hear you say it. You haven't."

You chuckled at the boy, "I like you too, Hyuck. You know I do."

"Yeah, I do," he smirked, pressing his lips to yours for what wouldn't be the last time that day.

What ensued after your date was some of the most fun you'd had in a long time. While your relationship wasn't forbidden by a long shot, the both of you thought it would be fun to sneak around and act like teenagers (which you both were) in high school sneaking around their friends. It was just for the experience, but it was exhilarating.

The butterflies in your stomach fluttered whenever you'd catch Hyuck's knowing and teasing gazes at the training ground and your heart sped up uncontrollably when he'd pull you into a dark corner away from cameras to give you a peck and let you go before you passed him and parted your separate ways. On the days that you were working with him and the physiotherapists, Donghyuck's touches would linger just a few seconds longer and he was much more comfortable towards you observably. Even the boys didn't know because Donghyuck wondered how long he could keep such a big thing from them. Mark was definitely suspicious- Donghyuck knew that much- but it was hard to keep a secret when Donghyuck had a loud laugh that would ring out through the walls every night when Donghyuck would call you and you'd fall asleep on the phone together.

The secret touches and quick kisses were enough for you to go crazy and spiral down the hole of falling for Lee Donghyuck. While he hadn't asked you to be his girlfriend, you felt like it and you were content with what you had.

Soon enough, August rolls around and Donghyuck's training began intensifying 2 months after his surgery. He was doing much better and was at the gym of the facility more often doing weight training and exercises to keep his fitness up. Soon enough, he had been doing light jogging on the treadmill unassisted by a brace. He knew that he had a long way to go- he wouldn't return before 6 months as to not risk his knee. He surely wouldn't be able to play a full 90 at least until the seasons change and the year comes to a close, but he was taking it one day at a time. That's not to say that it wasn't frustrating that he hadn't so much as kicked a football in two months because, by God, it was the most frustrating thing that had happened to him, but he couldn't reverse time and instead just had to accept and look forward to healing.

Today, you were given the morning off to return to the university campus for some paperwork to do in order to start your second year, but you came in after lunch bright-eyed with an iced coffee in hand. You quickly learned that Junghwan didn't like iced coffee all that much and was very particular in how he took his coffee, so you left the coffee making to him for himself, and Hyuck got too jittery before crashing if he had a lot of caffeine in the afternoon.

"Hi," you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you saw Junghwan stood outside the clinic that was on the way to the gym where you usually met up with him and whoever he was taking care of at that present moment, "Is anyone hurt?"

Junghwan sighed deeply and pressed his lips into a thin line, "Donghyuck took a knock on his other leg earlier. It's not severe- it'll only set him back a week at most, but I think he's in shock. He doesn't want to talk to me, that little brat, but maybe you can try."

A chuckle replaced the shocked and worried expression on your face, but inside, your stomach was churning in hurt for the boy, "I'll try my best and see what I can get out of him."

Junghwan stepped aside and let you knock. You heard a low grumble of "Hyung, I said leave me alone!"

You called out, "It's Y/N, Hyuck."

You might've imagined the faint "oh" that escaped his lips, but you took his pure silence as permission to come in. He could always tell you to leave anyway.

When you walked in, Hyuck was curled up on the clinic bed, with his eyes closed and his breaths deep.

"Hyuck?"

"I'm sleeping."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am," he curled up tighter and faced the wall.

You sat on the edge of the bed, "What happened Donghyuck?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled into the pillow he was hugging, "Can't I just have a day off and rest?"

"That's what you're doing anyway," you teased, "I'm also here to help with your rehab, Hyuck, so I'd really like it if you told me what happened and how you're feeling."

He sighed and moved the pillow away from his face so that he wasn't muffled, but he still neglected to face you, "I was jogging and my other leg gave out. It's just strained because I've been putting all the pressure on the other leg while trying to keep pressure off my injured knee."

"It's not serious, Hyuck," you reached up and stroked his hair, "Are you okay though Emotionally?"

"When I felt the pain surge through, I thought I re-injured my knee- that I pushed it too far. I'm scared shitless of re-injury because that's what keeps players out for years, if not ending their career. I'm just recovering from the shock."

"You're okay, you're okay," you cooed, running your hands through his hair comfortingly.

He pouted, "Can I have a kiss?"

You chuckled, remembering that there were no cameras in the clinic to protect patient confidentiality. You leaned down and met his pouting lips with yours.

"Hyuck, we heard what happened. Oh my God are you oka- OH MY GOD!" five boys burst into the room, and were quickly halted to a stop by what was in front of them.

So much for keeping the secret.

Yukhei folded his arms and laughed, "Is this why you were so protective and jealous at the hospital when I visited?"

Mark, Chenle, Jeno and Jisung gawked, mouths agape.

"I suspected you had a girlfriend, but Y/N?" Mark uttered.

You moved away from Hyuck, your face resembling a tomato with the red reaching the tips of your ears, "It's not what it looks like."

"Are you sure? Cause it sure looks like you're ready to devour Donghyuck. Your hands were in his hair!" Jeno accused.

"You guys are nasty," Chenle scrunched up his face, "At the training facility? Really? On the clinic bed?"

"We weren't doing anything like that," Donghyuck launched a pillow at the Chinese boy, "You're the nasty one."

Jisung closed the door behind him and you prayed Junghwan wasn't still hanging around. While he said you could date the team, you didn't want to create a different dynamic than the perfect one you had already set up with Junghwan and Donghyuck as a trio.

"How long has it been?" Yukhei pressed on, completely intrigued by the situation. Sure, he thought you were pretty, but he had no problems backing off if you were taken.

"We kissed at the apartment when Y/N came around for the game against Germany," Donghyuck reluctantly admitted. You were still quiet and still flushed.

"So what you're saying is you have us to thank for inviting Y/N since your coward ass didn't want to," Jeno placed his hands on his hips and smirked, "Is this even allowed?"

Mark punched his arm, "We're not idols; we don't have a dating ban. Plus, Y/N's only here for the summer right? The rest of the month?"

You nodded slowly, trying to take in how casually they took it.

"Then it's fine," Mark affirmed, "Have you told hyung?"

Donghyuck looked past Mark as if Junghwan was stood on the other side of the door, "No. We'd prefer if no one did either. We just want to stay lowkey to maintain the environment we have already."

The boys nodded slowly before Chenle came to a realisation, "Wait! We literally forgot why we came here. Hyuck what happened?"

Donghyuck started laughing at their forgetfulness, "I'm fine, guys."

Sensing their concern for their best friend, you took it as an opportunity to leave and give the boys their own time. Junghwan hadn't been standing outside the door when you exited, so you made your way to the gym to see if he was there or if there was anyone that you could help. To your luck, Junghwan was already working with Jaehyun and seemed as if he had been there a while.

"How's the little drama queen?"

"He's fine. He just got a bit scared like you said and the boys are there now so they're sure to cheer him up. What's the plan looking like, then?"

"Well, the season's coming into full force now and I keep reviewing his plan and trying to aim for mid-January at the earliest to get him to play on the pitch. I think we're looking good, fingers crossed. What's your take?"

You appreciated that Junghwan was a considerate mentor and even asked you of your opinion and views, "I think Donghyuck is really working hard to get back and I'm only here for another couple of weeks, but I keep telling him to make sure to not work himself too hard or else we'll keep getting incidents like today. Overall, I've never seen someone more determined to recover and I've only been shadowing injuries for a year," you explained your thought process carefully.

"I've been doing this for decades and even I agree with you," Junghwan nodded, "That Lee Donghyuck is a special boy."

Two weeks later, you were standing in the middle of the communal room with a box of chocolates, a bouquet of flowers and a folded up NCT FC T-shirt with your name on the back. It was your official last day at the club and it was fair to say that you were emotional. Although a lot of your time was spent with Donghyuck and his recovery, you had also spent time with everyone else at the club and formed amicable relations that you would never forget. Who could say that they formed bonds with some of the most famous football players in Korea over the course of one summer?

Your now boyfriend Donghyuck was holding a gift bag filled with other goodies and keepsakes to remind you of your time at the club, and NCT FC's coach had been telling you all through your farewell event how you should come and watch a match for free any time you wanted at the grounds. You were definitely going to take advantage of that.

Junghwan was also emotional to see you go, never having had a student so engaged in what they were doing. He was going to miss your help around the club and expertise at reigning in a moody or excitable Donghyuck. Speaking of- he had been jokingly disappointed when the two of you revealed your relationship to him, but he also noted that it was kind of obvious or inevitable.

"She'll be coming with me to all the matches I come and watch this season, won't you?" Donghyuck slung his arm around your shoulders, "And then she'll be there watching when I get back on the pitch."

You poked his cheek, "Of course. And I'm going to miss you all so much! I have to get back to lectures and deadlines and studying so this will definitely be the most fun I'll have all year."

You looked fondly at everyone around you, from the staff who welcomed you so warmly, to all the players who trusted you generously. It was the summer of a lifetime and you felt so blessed to come out of the experience with so many more friends, knowledge and life skills.

The ambience within the stadium grounds was nothing short of electric on a chilly clear night. The media had been building up to this night for weeks and weeks, and fans were decked out in their best NCT FC gear. The stadium was vibrating with loud cheers and chanting as the players emerged from the tunnel and lined up in the middle of the pitch. There was a sea of bright green wrapping around the stadium, only interrupted by the shirts and flags of the opposing team's fans. It was derby night; two rival teams were going head to head and it was always an exciting, coveted night.

Last out the tunnel, with his hairs standing up all over his body as he stepped out onto the pitch, was Lee Donghyuck. The glimmer had returned to his eyes and his heart was beating for the excitement he felt after months and months of longing for this moment. His best friend clapped him on the back once they finished lining up and a grin invaded his previously anxious face.

This was it, he thought looking around at the bright green shirts, flags, banners and painted faces- this was home.

Nothing felt better than slipping on his jersey with DONGHYUCK 10 on the back. Chills ran through his entire body when his face appeared on the broadcast screens and the entire stadium erupted in roars for how much they missed their club's generational talent.

Somewhere up in the boxes was you, holding your little brother's hand a little too tightly in anticipation of Donghyuck's first match and return to the pitch. It was unusual to not have Donghyuck beside you in the box. Instead, you were relying on your sharp vision and the screens to show you the boy who deserved this moment more than anything else. He had been talking about his return seriously for a couple of months, and this match felt like the one to return to as a full-circle moment, as this was the team they were playing when Donghyuck was injured at the end of the previous season. Thankfully, the player that had injured him was sent off on loan to a different tea, and Donghyuck wouldn't have to face that team until the end of the season.

Once Yuta and the other team's captain made all the decisions on which side to shoot and who was kicking off, Donghyuck made his way to his position, right at the centre and heading the team. With Ten on his right and Yuta on his left and Mark right behind him, Donghyuck felt safe and comfortable and all he really wanted was the ball at his feet under their loyal supporters' hopeful gazes.

In a split second, the whistle blew and as if his instincts had not diminished over the past 7 months, his body raged into game mode.

After the game, it felt as if Donghyuck was in shock. He was looking around aimlessly, trying to latch himself onto something concrete to settle his brain. Once changed, he exited the dressing room and found you waiting expectantly.

You crushed him in a hug, "I'm so proud of you."

The boy finally relaxed his tense muscles and wrapped his arms around your waist, "That was amazing. I'm so happy."

"How's your knee feeling, you superstar?" you teased, "You're a bit of a show-off aren't you?"

"My knee is achy but just the normal post-match kind of ache all over the body," and then he smirked, "I had to give them payback and show the fans what they've been missing all this season."

Lee Donghyuck, like the showoff he was, decided to net a hat-trick of 3 goals solely in the second half of the game. Maybe the defenders weren't prepared to work in the way Donghyuck made them work, especially after a long injury, but Donghyuck proved he was again incredibly fit and harboured the same talent even after 6 or 7 months.

"You are amazing," you scrunched your face at him and tightened your hug around him.

Lee Donghyuck exhaled in relief. If you had asked him 7 months ago on that night that he sustained his injury, he wouldn't have been able to imagine his life 7 months down the road. He wouldn't have said that he would have a girlfriend or even that he was happier than ever even after missing so much of the season. After tonight, he knew that speculations would go up and rumours would start and the price tag over his head would increase. He knew that people would already be looking forward to the next Asian Cup, and heck, even the next World Cup, but at this current moment of time, with your arms wrapped around him and your head nuzzled into his neck and breathing words of praise into his ears, he was content.

-------------------------------------------

author's note; if you read this to the end, i want to thank you so sincerely. this work is my baby and i feel so protective over it. as you might've been able to tell, it was a bit all over the place with its pacing and its characterization and the switching between donghyuck and y/n's pov was a bit frustrating for me. however, football is something that i love so much and i wrote books on wattpad with hundreds of thousands of reads that mean so much to me and gave me the foundation for all my writing on this blog. this fic was so hard to finish and i still had so many ideas (like, where was donghyuck going to end up at the end of the season? would he transfer? what would happen to their relationship?) and i wanted to explore more of y/n's character as i focused more on hyuck and y/n is a bit mary-sue-ish but as i said, i wanted nothing more than to be done with this story and get it out. if you have any thoughts, let me know and thank you for reading <3

#this was all over the place i'm sorry #but i had so much fun writing this #the title has no correlation to the story lol #haechan fluff #lee donghyuck #nct #nct fic recs #haechan #nct 127 #nct dream #nct fic #nct one shot #haechan imagine

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avengerscompound · 3 years

Text

Small Gods: Patience - 1

Patience: A Black Widow Fanfic

Patience Masterlist | More Small Gods

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 1611

Warnings: Language, guns, (smut, angst, and canon typical violence on series)

Synopsis: Every day Natasha prays for more patience to deal with a litany of things from waiting for her target to make a move - to not yelling at Clint for putting empty milk containers back in the fridge.

When her prayers are answered, Natasha finds that having patience is easy, holding on to it is a little harder.

A/N: Reader is a minor god.

IF YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED IN THE REMAINDER OF THIS SERIES, EITHER ADD YOURSELF TO THE TAGLIST OR SEND ME A MESSAGE

Chapter 1

Natasha stood on the edge of the building watching the chaos break out below her. The team was supposed to be infiltrating a new underground crime group to figure out where a drop-off was happening. They’d had men on a street corner no one had managed to clock, and it had just happened to be the one Steve was observing, and they’d spotted him. That had made the whole crew antsy and then they’d wanted to change locations for the meet. That had meant a sudden scramble to relocate everyone, so they could keep monitoring the situation. Tony had nearly been spotted as they did and ended up having to leave the area completely so it looked like another normal New York City Iron Man sighting. To top that off, Sharon’s comms had just stopped working completely and so no one had any idea what the group was actually saying. It had been a series of fuck-ups and she knew she would have to get down into the mess soon the way things were going, but she was waiting to see if Clint could salvage it as he bumbled along the street acting stupid so that he could ‘accidentally bumped into his old friends Sharon’ and get some ears back on the scene.

“God, grant me patience,” she sighed. It was a prayer that had become commonplace for her. She’d use it when she was on an undercover mission where she had to pretend to be much less intelligent than she was. She used it when she helped patch up Clint’s cuts after he’d spent a whole day being incredibly agile and dexterous, only to trip over his doormat and land face-first into a cactus he didn’t even know he owned. She used it when Tony went on one of his rambling stories that she already knew. She used it when she had to watch Steve jump off yet another stupidly high point for no reason other than he had to be their first.

“I’m not sure, Natalia,” a voice coming from way too closer said. “I’m not sure that’s what you actually want.”

She spun around, quickly assuming a defensive position. You stood at the corner of the building, completely relaxed. You had dark sunglasses on and what looked like a faux leather jacket and large black boots. You were leaning against the wall slightly and twirling a lollipop in your mouth, and despite the fact that on just about anyone else she’d think they were trying too hard, you seemed effortlessly cool.

“Who are you?” Natasha snarled.

“Patience,” you said simply.

“Don’t tell me to be patient when you’ve just snuck up on me in the middle of a mission. Tell me what you want, or I’ll send that piece of candy through the back of your throat.”

You laughed and held up your hands. “Okay, killer,” you teased. “Relax. I wasn’t telling you what to do. I was saying that’s who I am.”

Natasha quirked her eyebrow at you. “So your name is Patience, and you sit around waiting for people to pray for patience and you pop out thinking it’s a funny joke? You know how close to death you just came right now? I’m in the middle of something. Go away before you get someone hurt.”

Natasha spun back to look down at Sharon who was now talking to Clint. She saw the quick sleight of hand as they exchanged mic packs.

“Patience isn’t my name,” you laughed.

Natasha rolled her eyes, hoping to cling on to the last remaining patience she had rather than breaking your neck. That would just lead to a lot of paperwork. “You said it was.”

“No,” you said, straightening up and reaching into your inner jacket pocket.

Natasha pulled her gun and pointed at you. “Don’t even think about it.”

You pulled your hand out with a business card pinched between your thumb and index finger. You raised your hands and flicked the card up so it was held between your index and middle finger. “I said I was patience,” you said, taking a few steps toward her. Natasha’s fingers twitched on the trigger finger as she tried to read your intention. “You’ve been praying to me a lot lately. I thought I’d show up. But - you’re obviously not ready yet.” You offered the card to Natasha and she took it without taking her eyes off you. “Now… count to two hundred, and then go down the fire escape. Agent Carter will be fine until then, and that will get you there exactly when you need to be.”

“What?” Natasha asked, now completely confused.

“Just a suggestion,” you answered and casually strode off to the stairwell, leaving Natasha alone on the roof, completely perplexed over what had just happened. She looked down at the business card. Embossed in gold on the glossy black card were your name, address, and phone number. There was no mention of a job or business or even the word patience that you had kept bringing up.

Natasha furrowed her brow and tucked the card into her pocket. She wasn’t a trusting person by nature, but she had enough experience with magic to know not to completely ignore what you said. She counted to two hundred as she paid close attention to what was happening in the street. As she carefully made her way down to the fire escape, there was a commotion and Sharon drew her gun. People scattered as a large van pulled up and armed men spilled out.

Natasha cursed under her breath as the street broke out in utter chaos.

“How did you even get there so fast?” Sharon asked.

Thanks to your warning, Natasha had gotten there at the perfect time to take out most of the gunmen before they’d even shouldered their weapons. In the end, while the plan hadn’t exactly gone how everyone had wanted it, and they still needed to actually find where they were operating from, they had made a lot of arrests, and thanks to Natasha, lots of innocent lives had been saved from being caught in the crossfire.

“There was this woman…” Natasha started, not quite sure how to explain your strange appearance and departure from the rooftop.

“Oohhh…” Clint teased. “Nat got the hots for some hot Chiquita.”

“Gross, Clint,” Natasha snarked. “Don’t be a letch.” Clint held up his hands in surrender and Natasha let out a long breath. “It was weird though.”

“How was it weird?” Steve said, sitting forward in his chair. “Anything we need to worry about?”

Natasha shrugged. “I don’t know - maybe,” she said. “She said she was patience.”

Clint snorted. “You definitely need to find her then,” he teased. Natasha swatted him on the back of the head. “See,” he complained, rubbing his head.

“So her name was Patience?” Steve said, opening up a drop-down screen above the coffee table. “FRIDAY, do we have any record of a Patience as a member of any known criminal organizations.”

“Her name wasn’t Patience,” Natasha said, pulling the card out of her pocket and handing it to Steve. “She said she was patience.”

“What does that mean?” Steve asked, typing the details into the computer.

Natasha shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Tony chuckled. “I like the idea of anthropomorphic adjectives walking around.”

“Patience is a noun, Tony,” Bruce scolded. “And so is Tony.”

“You know what I mean,” Tony said, waving his hands around. “You can feel patient, you can’t feel Tony.” He paused for a moment. “Not unless you asked nicely.”

“Maybe she’s some kind of god,” Clint said. Everyone turned to him and Natasha raised her eyebrow. Sometimes Clint would say things that were so simple and so profoundly intelligent that she wasn’t sure if he just blindly stumbled into the answer or he was an actual genius.

“Is that a thing?” Sam asked. “Just random gods of emotions?”

Natasha shrugged. “I have no idea. It’s a pity Thor isn’t here, we could ask him. But she did say I’d been praying to her.”

Clint snorted. “Sounds about right.”

“But Thor’s not a real god, is he?” Steve said. “Wasn’t the theory that he’s just an alien that lives a long time and humans just decided he was a god?”

“The dude makes lightning, Cap,” Sam teased. “Maybe he’s not the only place it comes from, but he can definitely create it and control it. Why can’t there be the equivalent for something like patience.”

Clint snatched the card from Steve and shoved it into Natasha’s hands. “I say you call her.”

“You just want Nat to stop smacking you on the back of the head,” Bucky snorted.

“No, I want to see my best friend get laid,” Clint said, folding his arms across his broad chest. “I bet someone who can command patience would be great at sex.”

“And…?” Bucky pressed.

“And I don’t want to get clocked on the back of the head anymore,” Clint muttered.

Everyone laughed and Natasha looked down at the card, spinning it around in her hand.

“You look like you’re considering it, Red,” Tony mused. “What was she like?”

“Cryptic,” Natasha replied. “Cool.”

“Was she hot?” Clint asked.

“I think so,” Natasha said.

“So call her,” Sharon shrugged. “She helped me out. She can’t be all that bad.”

Natasha nodded. “At the very least I might get some answers.”

“And who knows, Nat,” Clint said. “Maybe she’ll be able to teach you a trick or two.”

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek trying not to laugh, and wishing she had a little bit of that patience right now.

// NEXT

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #small gods #patience

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy

Summary: Spencer's gay. He joins the BAU and befriends the team, but it is 2003. It's a secret he has to keep. He just didn't expect it to be this hard.

Tags: gay!spencer, coming out, hurt/comfort, insecure!spencer, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, dad hotch, protective!hotch, protective!derek, childhood trauma TW: one instance of explicit homophobia, but it is referenced a lot, as is Spencer's internalised homophobia at the start of this fic. A shit ton of heteronormativity but tbh that's just canon lol

Pairing: Spencer Reid/OMC, Spencer Reid & Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner, The BAU Team & Spencer Reid

Word Count: 6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Consider this my contribution to pride month 😌 I've waited so long to post it and I'm so glad I'm finally doing it because it's definitely one of my all time favourites <3 Gideon is here somewhere but just like with all my early season fics he's not really part of the plot I combined my moreid and gen taglists bc it was hard to know the audience for this, but just ignore it if you're not interested!

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn’t do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore. — richard siken, a primer for the small weird loves

Spencer has only told one person in his whole life.

His mother guessed. For as long as he can remember, she’s used gender neutral pronouns when talking about his future partner, read him all the gay literature she could find, promised him that he’s perfect just the way he is.

The trouble is that Spencer only believes her until the first grade, when Ryan Sampson shoves him over in the playground and calls him gay. His mom had only ever used that term in a sweet, loving way, taking care to associate such words with positivity, as long as his dad wasn’t around to hear. When that word comes out of Ryan Sampson’s mouth, it is not said with sweetness and love; it is said with venom, and Spencer learns quickly that his mom is wrong. He is not perfect just the way he is.

And so, he keeps it a secret. When his mom notices him getting uncomfortable at the mention of future partners, she stops bringing it up, though she refuses to give up the diverse education she provides for him outside of school. His dad tells him that one day he’ll be a strapping young man and marry a nice girl in a church, and Spencer nods along. He ignores the way his stomach turns with anxiety at the thought. Ignores the screaming match his parents have that night. Ignores the fact that it started because Diana chipped in with ‘or boy’.

He’s in high school by the time he’s twelve, and the only part he’s grateful for is the absence of pressure to get a girlfriend. His dad’s out of the picture now, and Spencer tries not to let himself think that maybe if he wasn’t like this he might have stayed. Diana’s so out of it most days that she doesn’t remember what she noticed about him when he was a child, only recalling the last few years of shoving himself so far back in the closet he can hardly see the door anymore.

It feels like he’s lost his last ally.

(He hates that a small part of him feels relieved she doesn’t remember; that he almost feels assured by the fact that the last person to know who he really is has forgotten. There is only this version of Spencer Reid now. No other exists.)

He makes the mistake during his second undergraduate degree. He’s just turned eighteen but he is already a doctor and, fortunately, this alienates him from most of his peers, but someone manages to slide past his defences. Ethan Miller is twenty, in the second year of his (first) undergraduate degree in Chemical Engineering, and he’s nice. Spencer doesn’t have a lot of experience with friendship, but they get on well and Ethan makes him laugh. For the first time, he feels comfortable in the presence of anyone other than his mother.

They slip into an easy friendship: waiting for each other after class — Spencer back in the undergraduate buildings now he has his first PhD under his belt — and going out for ice cream and pizza and Thai food. Ethan goes to parties while Spencer studies, and then they reconvene to watch Doctor Who and play cards.

For almost a year, Spencer keeps his secret carefully locked up, hidden behind the mask he’s perfected after so many years. Even though he’s eighteen, nearly nineteen now, he doesn’t try and explore that side of himself. No, that’s far too risky. He doesn’t try and pretend any other way either, he just stays silent and lets people’s assumptions lie for him, but he can’t help the longing that claws up his throat when he locks eyes with a passing guy on campus. One time, he’d seen two men kiss on a bench in the city, and he’d run back to his dorm and had a panic attack. Why couldn’t he have that?

The feelings don’t stop, and he doesn’t know how to make them. He hates that he isn’t normal, but still longs for the touch of a man, the feeling of being wrapped up in strong arms, of being kissed by dry, chapped lips, and falling asleep to a heartbeat approximately 11% slower than that of a woman’s.

It’s a constant battle inside him, emotions raging, and he struggles to control it, suppress it, tame it.

He pays a sorry price.

Ethan makes him feel comfortable, and that turns out to be a detriment. He relaxes around the other boy: he tells him about growing up as a pre-teen in a high school, about how a child feels living 260 miles away from home, even about his mother’s illness.

And one day, it slips out. They’re on the beach, lying on towels as they look up at the blue sky, talking about what their futures will look like: Ethan will be a successful chemical engineer in Berlin, and Spencer will work for the FBI, profiling serial killers.

“You’ll have to marry a German girl,” he tells Ethan. “It’ll be tough to convince an American girl to move all the way to Germany as soon as you graduate.”

“Yeah, and what about you? You’ll be off fighting crime around the country, not much of a life for a family.”

“Oh, I imagine my husband will be the type to—”

“Husband?”

Spencer freezes. It shocks him as much as it shocks Ethan. He doesn’t even pay much attention to Ethan’s disgusted face and his outraged tirade. He hears slurs and insults, hears him say that he can’t believe Spencer tricked him like this, that he was probably waiting to make a move on him, that he was never to look in Ethan’s direction again, but Spencer is frozen in time.

He’s never allowed him to think much about what his personal life might look like in the future, but he’d said ‘husband’ on instinct, without thinking, and it’s clearly something he actually wants. Ethan’s words sting, but the moment brings about a realisation Spencer is thankful for; it instigates a journey of self-discovery and self-expression, of the joy of living as your true self.

He loses his first and only friend, but he gains something much more valuable. He visits gay bars — nervously sipping a non-alcoholic drink in the corner at first, before soon becoming confident enough to respond to the men who sidle up to him and ask for his name. He lets go and dances the night away, sometimes going home with one of the many dance partners he acquires during the night, sometimes heading back to his own dorm happily alone.

Makeup and dresses and skirts and heels make their way into his wardrobe, and he befriends girls and drag queens and other gay men who encourage him to be exactly the way he is. And the best part is, he never has to come out to any of them. All of them know, and that’s good enough for everyone.

The fun comes to a sad sort of slow, however, when he joins the BAU. Everyone knows law enforcement’s relationship with the LGBT community is less than adequate — Spencer’s seen it with his own eyes: butch lesbians and men in dresses getting roughed up by angry police officers for ‘lewd behaviour’ or ‘drunkenness’ when they’re just being themselves. It’s not safe for him to tell anyone, so he doesn’t.

He still goes out with his friends when he’s in town and wears makeup and dresses and crop tops when he’s at home, but presents as rigidly straight Dr Spencer Reid to his team at the BAU.

The hardest part about it is that he loves his team. He’s known Gideon for years — and he wouldn’t be surprised if he suspects something after coming over to his house unannounced one night, only to have a man other than Spencer open the door — but he settles into a comforting dynamic with Hotch. He can’t help but see him as something of a father figure, and he knows Hotch has a soft spot for him, always looking out for him and taking him under his wing without a moment’s hesitation.

Elle, JJ, and Penelope all take a shine to him, too, teasing him without a hint of malice in their tones, only the kind of playful kindness that reminds him of his mother. He forms a special bond with Penelope and they spend hours watching Doctor Who together and geeking out on all the areas their interests overlap, and the comfort he feels with her matches the comfort he’s found with his new group of queer friends.

(She doesn’t hold a candle to Ethan, he decides one night, after he’d cried at a movie she’d made him watch and she felt so bad she made him hot chocolate and jam toast and cuddled him until he felt better.)

Derek becomes a brother to him. He puts him in a headlock at least once a day — which Spencer has been reliably informed by multiple sources is a very brotherly thing to do — and teases him relentlessly, while simultaneously being fiercely protective of him. Enough so, that Spencer sometimes wonders if he even has Hotch beat in that department.

He loves his team and his team loves him. It should be simple. It is still 2003.

He comes in one morning late for a briefing, his shirt buttoned wrong and his hair is a mess, and he’s fairly sure that his attempt to cover the hickey at the base of his neck with concealer has been ultimately unsuccessful. It’s obvious why he’s late. Gideon is too engrossed in the case file to notice, but Hotch raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face as everyone else immediately takes to teasing him.

“Who’s the lucky lady, pretty boy?”

Elle raises an eyebrow to match Derek’s shit-eating grin, “Someone definitely got some strange last night.”

“When do we get to meet her, Spence?” JJ asks, smirking as he takes a seat.

He’s bright red — as if he needed to look any more debauched — and Spencer tries to ignore the hurt that seizes his chest at the reminder of his need to stay quiet. This team respects him, and he can’t throw that away just because Spencer gets too comfortable.

God, he wishes Penelope was here.

“None of your business,” he mutters, trying to keep his tone light. He fails.

Naturally, Hotch notices and swiftly moves the briefing on, and Spencer keeps his gaze locked on the case file, not missing the absence of a reprimand from his superior. He’s constantly thankful for the older man, but in this moment, he wishes he could hug him.

(A voice that sounds dangerously close to Ethan’s rises up and taunts him in his ear: he wouldn’t want a dirty homo like you anywhere near him—)

Derek doesn’t let up on the case, continuing to bug him about the special lady in his life. He does concede that it could’ve been a one night stand, which is one front he’s right on, but a couple more concessions are necessary before Derek comes close to the truth of last night.

Eventually, Derek stops, and Spencer notes that the cessation of comments comes suspiciously close to the last time Derek and Hotch were alone together. He doesn’t have it in him to feel angry at Hotch for stepping in when he had it handled; doesn’t have the energy to act as though his pride is wounded, because really, neither of those things are true, and he doesn’t need to add another item to ‘Spencer Reid’s List of Things He Pretends to Be.’

The situation is forgotten, and time moves on.

Things change when he finds his first proper boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the giddying rush of emotions it turns out to be, and Spencer spends his days smiling as he daydreams his time away.

His name is Oscar Wilkins, a History professor at Georgetown University, and Spencer falls quickly in love with him. Ever since their mutual friend had introduced them at a gay bar one evening, they’d spent all their free time together. He’s kind and gentle and understanding of Spencer’s hectic and unpredictable job, and he finally has the chance to experience everything he quietly and shamefully longed for as a teenager.

The only downside is the silent breaking of Spencer’s heart that the most important people in his life can’t meet his boyfriend. He longs to show Oscar off, to hold hands in front of his team, lean up to press a tender kiss to Oscar’s lips. He wants to put a framed picture of the two of them at the Washington Monument on his desk to remind him of why he needs to get through the hard days; he doesn’t want to have to sneak out of the hotel room he shares with Derek to whisper hushed, loving goodnights over the phone.

But he’s too scared. Too cowardly.

It’s different being who he is with his gay group of friends littered with wlws and drag queens and other gay and bisexual guys. They understand.

But Derek and Hotch are two extremely masculine, alpha men: Derek’s a ladies’ man and Hotch is married to a woman he met in college with a baby on the way and both have a strong and dominant energy that still sometimes manages to intimidate Spencer even after all these years. And Elle and JJ are lovely — some of his closest friends, really — but sometimes they remind him a little too much of the mean girls he went to high school with.

The hardest person to keep his secret from, though, is Penelope. She’s his best friend and he desperately wants to give her all of him, but he’s so scared. He’s lost a best friend to this secret before, and even though he’s certain she’d be fine with it, what if she accidentally let it slip to Derek? What if Hotch found out and didn’t see him in the same light anymore? What if the girls started teasing him? What if Gideon didn’t want to mentor him anymore?

The fear paralyses him. And it’s a cycle he doesn’t know how to break.

Fear, though, doesn't stop everyone from noticing his daydreaming, his dopey smile when he checks his messages, his urgency to get home where he would’ve stayed until the small hours of the morning before. As excellent as he is at hiding his sexuality, he’s fucking terrible at hiding the fact that he’s in love: it was easy enough to pretend he was straight, but hiding something this all-consuming is an impossible ask.

Derek comes over to perch on the edge of his desk one afternoon, sighing as he sits down. “Pretty boy, this is getting ridiculous,” he says, snatching Spencer’s attention away from his phone. “You’ve been grinning like an idiot for the last twenty minutes as you’ve texted Future Mrs Reid. When are we going to meet her?”

(He hates the new nickname the team has given his mystery significant other, although Oscar had found it hilarious. “It’s funny because when we get married, we’ll hardly be able to tell,” he’d argued through his laughter. “Neither of us will change our name because of our academic profiles, and we’ll both still be ‘Dr’. Our wedding rings will be the only indicator.”

Spencer hadn’t argued back, because he’d been too tongue-tied and flushed pink at Oscar’s use of ‘when’ in regards to their hypothetical nuptials. It was only made bearable by Oscar kissing him gently and tucking him under his arm, not embarrassing him any further as Spencer had sort of anticipated, warmth settling over his chest at the thought of their future together.)

“You won’t,” he replies, perhaps a little too curtly.

Derek starts at that, clearly not expecting it. He definitely should’ve tried to play it off as a joke. “What— should I be offended, pretty boy?”

You wouldn’t call me that if you knew who I really am.

“That’s up to you, Derek,” he says calmly, although he still can’t meet his eyes, “but you won’t meet the ‘Future Mrs Reid, so I think it would probably be best if you left it alone.”

“Damn,” Derek mutters under his breath, clearly pissed off and probably more hurt than Spencer ever intended. “Suit yourself.”

And with that, he gets up and leaves his desk. Spencer’s only solace is the text message he sees on his phone when he picks it back up: I love you so much. You know that, right?

The light-hearted ridicule comes to an abrupt halt after the incident with Derek, and it’s clear that he had been the biggest contributor to the teasing. He’s thankful that the jokes have stopped, but he wishes desperately that it didn’t come with the growing distance between him and his team. Loneliness takes the place of his previous irritated anxiety, and he isn’t sure what’s worse.

It all comes to a head at the end of a case in Michigan. They’re stuck in the lounge of the small inn they’d stayed in the last few days, a snowstorm having blocked them in and grounded the jet, although Gideon had long since retreated to his room. The fire’s going and they’re the only guests around, so it’s cosy enough, but Spencer can’t help but feel sick at the idea of another night away from home.

It’s only been two weeks since he’d snapped at Derek, but the chasm between him and the team is only widening with each passing day. He knows it’s not a case of ‘pick a side’, but the team’s morale relies on light-hearted banter and teasing, and him not being a part of that anymore has only brewed awkwardness. Everyone’s trying to give him space when space is the last thing he wants.

Oscar’s keeping him company over the phone at least, but it’s not quite enough to quell the loneliness swimming around his stomach, and the 'discrete' sideways looks he gets from the team only make him feel worse.

“At least it’s nice and toasty in here,” JJ sighs as she takes a sip of the hot chocolate the kindly inn owner had made for them all.

Elle hums in agreement. “There are worse places to be grounded.”

“I dunno, man, I just wanna get home,” Derek says, not taking his eyes off the fire. Spencer can’t help but agree.

“Oh, come on,” Hotch muses, considerably more jovial now the case is over, “we’re here, and that’s not going to change any time soon. We should make the most of it.”

“It’s at least nice to be somewhere sort-of Christmassy now it’s December,” Elle points out. “We could be stuck in a dingy police station like we probably will be next week.”

“Ooh, I noticed that Jemimah and Kiran started planning the Christmas party last week,” JJ says, smiling at them. “I offered my help, but they seem to have it covered.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow“That’s probably a good thing. You don’t need more work on your plate.”

“Not gonna argue with that,” she murmurs, smiling as she brings her mug to her lips again.

Spencer doesn’t miss that Derek is still stewing on the opposite side of the room.

“Are you looking forward to the Christmas party, Spencer? Will you come?” Hotch asks, clearly trying to rope him into the conversation, which he appreciates. He’s been making a lot of effort with him the past few weeks, and it’s just about the only thing that’s getting him through each day.

Before he can reply, though, Derek erupts from the other side of the room; an already pissed-off man being pushed over the edge. “He won’t even let us meet his fucking girlfriend, Hotch, he’s not gonna want to come to the Christmas party!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air as he glares at Spencer with a stormy expression raging across his face.

Suddenly, Spencer can’t stay silent anymore, and his retort shocks himself just as much as it does everyone else. “I don’t have a girlfriend!”

It might be the loudest he’s ever shouted in his whole life. He’s always been quiet and restrained, the type to state his feelings as calmly as possible no matter how he’s feeling on the inside. Even in the biggest fight he’s had with Oscar, his voice was barely loud enough to qualify as a shout.

There’s a brief stunned silence, but Derek quickly slices his way through it, voice raising to meet Spencer’s fiery emotion, fierce and loud. “Oh, don’t even go there, Reid, you’re really gonna try and argue that? You’re gonna lie about her as well as not let us meet her? What a boyfriend you are.”

“I don’t! I don’t have a girlfriend!” he repeats, voice catching this time as tears rise unbidden to the backs of his eyes and all the emotions of the journey he’s taken with his sexuality over the years flood him in a wave of intensity he’s not prepared for.

“You’re fucking lying—!”

“I have a boyfriend!” he yells. “Alright? I have a boyfriend. I’m gay.”

The anger and emotion quickly dissipates, and he’s left standing alone in front of the team he’s put so much effort into hiding this from, watching shock spell out across everyone’s expressions. He’s never felt smaller than he does in that moment, and he quickly grabs his phone before running upstairs to his room, locking the door behind him.

“Oh God, Oscar, I fucked up so bad,” he cries over the phone as soon as his boyfriend picks up.

“Hey, hey, breathe, baby,” Oscar says gently, but Spencer can hear the anxious concern in his voice, “it’s gonna be okay, I promise. I’m here. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I just— Oh God, I just told the team.” A new wave of horror rolls over him as he realises what he’s done. Times might be changing, but it’s still only 2006, and he doesn’t know each and every nuance of his team members’ political positions and, fuck, he hates that his existence is a fucking political position.

Oscar’s been so understanding of his reluctance to not tell the team, even though Spencer’s met pretty much everyone in his life. He isn’t sure what he’s done to earn such a gracious and understanding boyfriend, but he’s not about to question it.

“Baby, I know it’s scary, and I know you’re really worked up right now,” he counsels, voice soft and reassuring, using the nickname he knows Spencer loves the most to make him feel as safe as he can from 700 miles away, “but it’s probably not as bad as you think. From what you’ve told me about the team, they love you so much, and even in the case that in the past they've had some issue with gay people, I can't imagine they’d ever actually think of you any differently when it comes down to it, Spencer.”

He’s crying too hard to reply, and Oscar understands immediately, gently transitioning into a story about his day that slowly starts to calm him down, and by the time he’s wrapping it up, his tears are starting to subside.

“Thank you, Ozzy,” he whispers into the phone, lifting himself up off the floor and making his way to sit on the bed instead.

“You know I’d do anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs warmly. “Do you want me to stay on the phone for a bit?”

“Yes please,” he whispers again, holding it as close to himself as possible, drawing all the comfort he can from his boyfriend’s voice.

He lies there listening to Oscar’s voice and trying not to think about the disaster downstairs for a good ten minutes before there’s a tap at the door.

“Oz, there’s someone here,” he says, voice panicked.

“I think you should probably speak to them, baby,” he urges. “I’ll stay on the phone with you while you do, if you like?”

“Please.” He gets up from the bed gingerly, keeping his phone tightly gripped in his right hand as he slowly unlocks the door with his left, revealing Hotch on the other side.

“Hey, Spencer. Do you mind if I come in?”

He’s riddled with nerves, but Hotch is smiling warmly, and he’s never said a harsh word to Spencer, so he steps aside and lets him into his room.

Hotch quickly notices the phone in his hand, visibly still on a call. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Spencer nods.

“Do you mind if I talk to him?”

His brows knit in confusion and his lips part slightly in surprise, but it’s all he can do to hand the phone over, watching Hotch carefully.

“Hi, Spencer tells me this is his boyfriend?” Hotch inquires politely into the phone, his tone still warm. “I’m Hotch, Spencer’s boss.”

He can vaguely hear Oscar speaking on the other end of the line, and he worries slightly that Oscar will somehow give away the familial feelings he holds for Hotch, but the conversation doesn’t last long enough for the anxiety to really take over.

“Everything’s fine here, I just want to have a conversation with Spencer, so is it alright if we hang up and I talk to him alone for a minute? He can call you straight back afterwards.” After a brief pause in which Oscar says something, Hotch looks back up at him. “Are you okay with that, Spencer?”

He nods hesitantly, and Hotch says a quick goodbye to Oscar before surging forwards and wrapping Spencer in a hug. It catches him off guard, but he doesn’t waste any time in burying his face into Hotch’s neck and soaking in the comfort and warmth that always radiates from his father figure.

“Come on,” Hotch says softly as they pull away a good minute or so later, “let’s sit down, shall we?”

“You’re not mad?” Spencer can’t help but ask, the question burning his tongue as anxiety — however quietened from Hotch’s hug — still swims around in his stomach.

“There are many things that could make me mad, Spencer,” he says earnestly, “but this is not one of them. I would never be angry at you for being who you are, okay? I might… I might be overstepping here, and if I am, then tell me and I’ll back off, but I’ve always seen you as a mentee, and over the years that’s developed— well, I see you more as a son these days. And part of that is wanting to protect and support you no matter what you do or say or who you are.”

Spencer wastes no time in diving back in for a hug, clinging onto Hotch for dear life as he hugs back, rubbing his back gently.

“I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us sooner, Spencer,” he says in a voice soft with affection and regret. “But I’m so glad you’ve told us now.”

He only presses closer at that, tears springing back to his eyes. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He knows what he’s implying, and even in a roundabout way, he’s glad he’s telling Hotch.

“Oh, Spence,” he sighs sadly, “you couldn’t do a single thing to lose me. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“Really?” he asks, hating how insecure he sounds.

“Really,” Hotch promises, pulling away as Spencer does. “Now, you have a whole team of agents downstairs who are feeling very sorry for themselves and really want to see you.”

Nausea rolls in his stomach and panic springs back up as he looks at Hotch, desperate for some sort of grounding. “Are they angry at me? Do they hate me now?”

“No one hates you, Spencer,” he says firmly. “I promise you that. Everyone just wishes that they’d made you feel more welcome and comfortable. We all hate that you felt you had to lock up something so integral to who you are, and we can’t help but feel we played a part in it.”

“No,” he protests — the last thing he wants is family blaming themselves when it has nothing to do with them, “it’s not your fault, it’s just…”

Hotch nods. “I understand, it’s okay. Now, do you want to go down and see them? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it might help ease your mind to see that they really don’t hate you.”

Spencer pauses, taking a moment to think. “Can I see Derek first?”

“Of course,” Hotch says understandingly, and the comforting smile that crosses his face makes Spencer feel safe and taken care of. “I’ll send him up?”

Spencer nods and Hotch hugs him once more before leaving the room almost reluctantly. He wastes no time in picking up his phone and sending a text to Oscar. You were right. Hotch is fine. He’s just sending Derek up before I go and see the team but he says that no one’s angry and I think I believe him. Thank you, Oscar. I love you.

Not even half a minute goes past before his phone lights up with a text back. I’m so glad, baby. Call me later, okay? I want to make sure you’re okay before I go to bed. I love you more.

Before Spencer can argue that actually, he is the one more in love with the other, a hesitant knock sounds on his door. Nerves suddenly flip his stomach, and he clenches and unclenches his fists a couple of times before forcing himself to cross the room, revealing a very worried and regretful-looking Derek.

“Oh, pretty boy,” he says sadly, before crushing Spencer in a warm and tender hug. Immediately, he relaxes into the arms of one of his best friends, and relief courses through his blood at Derek’s reaction. “I am so sorry that I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that you were gay or had a boyfriend. That’s completely on me. I don’t care who you love, Spencer, I just want you to be happy, okay? And if this guy makes you happy, then that’s fine by me. But if he ever lays a hand on you or—”

“Derek, Derek,” he laughs, “it’s fine I get it. Thank you, though, I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier and for snapping at you in the bullpen that time…”

“I understand, Spence,” he promises. “It’s in the past, okay? And I’m sorry for pushing so hard. I mean, I’d love to meet him but if you don’t feel comfortable or you don’t want to, that’s fine, too. It’s your life, man.”

“No, I… I think I want you guys to meet him. It’s been so hard to keep him away from the people I consider my family, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe after Christmas, we can all have dinner or something.”

Spencer smiles shyly. “Well, Oscar’s a great cook, so I reckon we could work something out.”

Derek grins, throwing an arm around his shoulders as he immediately jumps back into teasing him as they make their way to the door to go downstairs and see the rest of the team. “Ooh, lover boy’s got him a chef, hey? What else does this Oscar have going for him?”

Spencer chatters eagerly about his boyfriend to Derek, barely skipping a beat when he joins everyone downstairs, his friends taking his cues and joining in with the conversation seamlessly. He’s had enough fuss for one night, and the warmth and understanding on everyone’s faces tells him everything he needs to know.

“Do you have any pictures of him?” JJ asks, raising an eyebrow with eager expectancy as they all settle back into their seats by the fire, a warm and unbelievably happy feeling settling in Spencer’s stomach.

He blushes, digging out his phone from his pocket and unlocking it. “More than a few, I think.”

He finds the most recent picture of his boyfriend — a candid shot of him cooking in the kitchen, spatula aloft, and a huge grin on his face — and hands the phone around.

“Oh wow, you like them buff, huh, pretty boy?” Derek teases as soon as he gets his hands on it, and Spencer’s stomach twists in a sudden bout of fear, expecting to see some hesitancy or even disgust on his friend’s face. What if he thinks that Spencer has a crush on him? What if he’s uncomfortable around him now?

But if Derek’s having any of those thoughts, they don’t show on his face. He’s smiling widely and openly, all the pent-up anxiety and frustration borne from hurt gone from his body language, and he looks completely comfortable sat next to Spencer, his arm stretched out behind him on the back of the sofa.

They sit happily around the fire for a couple of hours, settling into a happy, intimate familiarity Spencer hadn’t realised was missing when he was hiding something so integral to his being from his family, and he’s still smiling when they finally part ways to head to bed, the clock ticking closer and closer to 1 am.

He gets ready for bed quickly, brushing his teeth and throwing on the top he’d stolen from Oscar the first time he’d stayed at his place; a welcome change from his worn and wrinkled suit. As soon as his teeth are brushed and the lights are all off except for his bedside lamp, he pulls out his phone, knowing there’s one more thing he has to do before he goes to sleep.

“Spencer?” Penelope’s voice sounds down the line, clearly concerned. “It’s almost 2 am here, are you okay?”

“I’m gay,” he says, getting straight to the point. The main reason he ever kept it from her was because of his fear of it accidentally getting out to the team rather than fear over her reaction. After all, multiple of his drag queen friends are also hers.

“Oh my God,” she says in that small voice she uses when she’s not actually talking to you, before finally actually replying to me. “Spencer, I’m so happy you told me!”

He doesn’t miss her choice of words, or the way she says them and he tilts his head suspiciously. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

She sighs. “Yeah. I’m sorry, a couple of months ago I saw a text from Oscar on your phone when you went to the bathroom during one of our Doctor Who marathons, and it wasn’t hard to figure out the relationship.”

“And… wait, you’re not mad at me for not telling you sooner?”

“Spencer! Of course not. I was waiting for you to be comfortable enough to share it with me. I felt awful that I knew without your consent but I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to catch you off guard or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s fine that you waited, baby genius, I’m just so happy you told me now. What finally gave you the courage?”

“Well, it might have slipped out in front of the team this evening,” he admits sheepishly, “and the only reason I never told you was because I was scared that it would slip out somehow — accidentally, of course, I didn’t think you’d tell anyone on purpose — and now everyone knows. It’s been killing me not to tell you, Penelope, it really has because I love you so much and you’re my best friend and I trust you with my life, it’s just…”

“Whoa, slow down, Spence,” she laughs fondly, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me, I understand. But I’m glad you finally told everyone and you can be yourself completely with us, now. We all love you no matter what, you know that right?”

“I do now.”

“Good. You should get some sleep, baby boy, it’s late and you’ve had an emotional evening.”

Spencer smiles. “Yeah, I know. You should, too, Pen. I’ll see you when we can finally make it home, okay? Love you.”

“Love you, too, 187,” she says softly, and Spencer can hear the smile in her voice. “Goodnight.”

As soon as he hangs up, he settles down into the bed, turning off the light and pulling the duvet up over his shoulders before dialling one more number.

“Hey, baby,” Oscar says, voice as gentle and caring as it always is, although thicker with tiredness now. “I take it everything went okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer murmurs, already feeling tired as the safety he always feels at the sound of Oscar’s voice settles into the fibres of his being. “It went so well. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”

“I can’t wait either, sweetheart. Are you in bed now?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Can you talk to me as I fall asleep?”

“Anything for you, Spence,” he says softly, before transitioning seamlessly into a story about the professors on campus, and his gentle comfort and the knowledge of the unconditional love his family has for him finally lulls Spencer into the best sleep he’s had in weeks.

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xoxowrestlinggyrl · 3 years

Text

Backlash.

Requested: Yes

Pairing: Dominik Mysterio x Afro-Latina Reader

Word Count: 2341

Warning[s]: Just one curse word! That’s all.

Summary: You are a wrestler with ten years of experience and a friend of the Mysterio family. Dominik has a massive crush on you. He asks for your help with training before Wrestlemania Backlash.

A/N: I'm back and better than ever. I hope you all loved this! Sorry for the wait to the person who requested this.

Days before Wrestlemania Backlash Rey and Dominik Mysterio were declared the number one contender for the Smackdown Tag-Team Titles. They will face the current champions, Bobby Roode and Dolph Ziggler at the upcoming PPV. You could not be happier for the father-son duo. The past few years, you have gotten close to the Mysterio family. Coincidently, it was during the time Dominik began his professional wrestling career. You have seen improve so much from when he first got in the ring to today. Since you already had your match, you were sitting on one of the crates backstage, checking your phone. When you heard the familiar voices of Dominik and Rey, you slipped your cellphone in your jeans pocket and hopped off the crate.

“Hey, future champions.” You greeted them with a smile on your face.

Dominik let out a small chuckle, “Future champions? Already predicting the results of Wrestlemania Backlash?” He teased.

You shrugged your shoulders, “Only this match since I am not on the card. I have to live vicariously through my favorite father-son duo.” You were joking with them. Seriously, you were excited about the match. Rey and Dominik have the chance to make history if they win the titles. Also, it will be Dominik’s very first title reign.

“I hope we don’t disappoint you, Y/N.” Rey let out a laugh as well. He looked between you and Dominik. “I have to go call Angie. She wanted to talk to me about renovating our house.” You and Dominik looked confused. This is the first either of you have heard about them wanting to remodel their home.

“That’s the first time I heard anything like that, padre.” Dominik looked at Rey.

Rey looked at Dominik, “It’s something your mother and I just started to talk about.” He “subtly” signaled to his son. Maybe, it is something you were not supposed to notice. You ended up noticing it though. Is there something going on? You did not want to think they are hiding something for you. They are some of your closest friends. You decided to dismiss any thoughts you had. It is not anything important, right?

“Hasta luego, hijo and Y/N,” The man told the two of you abruptly before walking away. Rey was in a hurry. He must really have to talk to Angie about the renovation, right?

Now, you and Dominik were left alone together. “Are you excited for the upcoming PPV?” You nudged him a little bit.

“I am.” Dominik stated before he looked down at the ground for a moment. There is something wrong with him. It concerned you a bit.

“What’s wrong, Dom?”

Dominik looked up from the ground, “I am just not sure if I am ready yet.”

“Dom… don’t doubt yourself, okay? You are more than ready and for this.” You placed your hand on his shoulder, looking up at him. “I have seen you improve so much over the past two years. You are amazing in the ring. I know Rey is so proud of you.” A smile grew on his face as he listened to you.

“Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it. I do have to ask you something…”

You watched as Dominik grew shy. Honestly, you were not sure what to expect for him to ask you. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you and I could train together? It will help me get ready for the PPV. You are the great, Y/N, after all.”

You felt your cheeks start to warm up just a bit. You are thankful for your brown skin. It helped masked the blush a little bit. “I’m not that great. I just have ten years of experience.”

“Ten years is not anything to sneeze at. You are so talented. It would be an honor to have you train me.”

You smiled at Dominik, “Yes, I would love to train you, Dominik. I’m going to go easy on you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Dominik grinned at her.

“Are you free on Tuesday? If so, let’s go to the Performance Center to train.” You suggested to him.

“I am actually. Tuesday is perfect. You got yourself a date, Y/N.” Dominik’s eyes widen when he realized how it sounded. Your heart skipped a beat when he called your training, “a date”.

“I-I’m sorry. I-I I did not mean it that way. Uh, I was confirming that we are going together. You know? I mean, it’s not like you wouldn’t be bad for anyone to date—”

A slight laugh fell from your lips, finding this adorable. “I know what you mean. Don’t apologize.” You assured him. “It’s a date,” You were sure it was just a mistake on Dominik’s part.

~~~~~

It was Tuesday. The day you and Dominik were going to meet up at the Performance Center. You were running a few minutes late because you overslept. When you pulled up to the center, you see Dominik waiting outside. Since it is early in the morning, you managed to find a parking space. You got out of your car, grabbed your bag, and rushed to the front of the building. Your hair flowed in the Florida wind as you ran over to him. He smiled as he seen you. Dominik greeted you with a hug.

You hugged him back, “Sorry, I am late. I overslept.”

“That’s okay. It was just a few minutes.” Dominik stated, casually. He pulled away from the hug.

“Are you ready to train?” You asked with a grin on your face.

“Ready as I will ever be, Y/N.” Dominik opened the door for you, letting you into the Performance Center first. He entered in right after you.

The training is going smoothly. Right now, the two of you decided to take a break. You have no doubts in your mind Dominik is going to do great. However, you cannot deny the chance to help your friend. You were sitting in the middle of the ring, sipping on your water bottle. Dominik stared at you from the other side of the ring. He was not very subtle about it. You closed the bottle as you looked over at him.

“What? Is there something wrong?”

Dominik was thrown out of the trance he was in, “Your water bottle is shaped weird.” Your eyebrows raised, looking at the bottle and back at him. He had a playful tone in his voice.

“Oh yeah? Those are fighting words. This bottle is expensive!” The bottle is not expensive. It was at an average price. You and Dominik joked like this, constantly. You set it down to the side, getting up from where you were seated in the ring.

“Well, let’s fight then.” Dominik joked as he got up.

The two of you began “fighting”. Dominik began tickling you. You let out a loud laugh. “You’re a cheater!” You exclaimed in between laughs.

“You’re the veteran here, Y/N.” Dominik joked as he continued to tickle you. An idea popped into your mind. You launched yourself at him. You and Dominik landed on the mat with you on top of him. Laughs fell from both of your lips.

“You got me,” Dominik stated while laughing.

“Yeah! I do.” You were still laughing to. Your laugh started to fade a bit as you both stared into each other’s eyes. His dark brown eyes are just so beautiful and inviting. He began to lean in to kiss you, and you did just the same. Your lips nearly brushed his when you were quickly reminded how wrong this would be. You are so close with the Mysterio family! How will they react? Then, you pulled away before you both could kiss.

“We should get back to training.” You began getting up. Dominik looked confused, but he nodded his head. Even though you both went back training, it was so awkward. Neither of you could handle it, so the training was cut short. You hightailed out of the performance center, getting into your car.

“Shit.” She huffed under your breath as you slammed your fist in the steering wheel. Why did you have to make things so awkward?

~~~~

The night of Wrestlemania Backlash came. You avoided Dominik through the week. Honestly, you did not know how to talk to him about this. You wrecked things by pulling away. What if he is mad? Avoiding him probably made things a whole lot worse. You were dressed up casually since you were not scheduled tonight. You felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned around, you gasped when she seen Aalyah. It has been a while since you have seen her. You pulled her into a hug instantly.

“I can tell you’ve missed me,” Aalyah joked as you hugged her.

You nodded her head, “I really have. There is so much we need to catch up on.” You both pulled away from the hug.

“I couldn’t agree more, Y/N.” The two of you began walking down the hall together. The PPV hasn’t started yet. Rey and Dominik’s match is the third one on the card. It gives you ample amount of time to catch up with Aalyah and talk.

While the two of you were catching up, Aalyah decided to address the elephant in the room. “What is going on with you and Dom? He told me what happened.”

You looked down at the ground. This is the conversation you were dreading. However, you should have known this was going to happen.

“Y/N?” She looked at you.

A sigh fell from your lips as you looked at her, “I totally ruined it with him. I panicked when we were about to kiss. I was afraid of what your family would think because I have been so close with you all for such a long time now. I don’t want you all to think the only reason why I wanted to be friends with the family was to get to Dominik.”

Aalyah looked at you, “Come on, Y/N/N. You know way better to believe we’d think that. We’ve been friends for way too long to believe that was your intent. If you want to know, Dominik has a massive crush on you. He fell for you the first time he met you. He is going to be pissed I told you, but he should have said something a long time ago.” The young woman let out a slight laugh. A Cheshire grin formed on your lips, knowing Dominik feels the same way about you. You got to make this right.

“I doubt he is going to be pissed when he knows I feel the same way.” You slightly joked. He can’t be mad, right?

~~~~

You and Aalyah were sitting backstage, watching Dominik and Rey’s match. The two of you were on pins and needles now. The father and son tag-team had to dig deep in this match. It was a close one. Rey hit Bobby with the 619 and tagged in Dominik. He climbed on the top rope and landed a Frog Splash on Roode. (Eddie would’ve been so proud). He went for the pin. The referee began counting. Dominik got the three-count. You and Aalyah jumped up from your seats, screaming. You and Aalyah hugged each other before hurrying up to the guerrilla. The two of you managed to make it up there before anyone else. The father and son tag-team walked up the ramp. Dominik smile faltered a bit as soon as he seen you. He looked surprised to see you here.

Rey looked at Aalyah. The two of them began walking away. They know you and Dominik needed to talk.

“Congratulations, Rey.” You stated before turning to look at Dominik. “Hi, Dom. You did amazing. I told you that you could do it.”

Dominik grinned, “Thank you, Y/N/N for believing me.” He had his tag-team belt on his shoulder. There was an awkward silence between you two.

“I am sorry about the other day. I crossed the line, and I never intended on making you feel uncomfortable around me.” Dominik apologized as he looked at you. He looked into your eyes.

You looked up at him, “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry for avoiding you the whole week. It wasn’t anything you did. I was scared…” You began.

Dominik’s eyes furrowed in confusion. “Scared of what? Talk to me, Y/N. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

A sigh fell from your lips, “It’s stupid. I was worried your family might think I only became friends with them just to get to you.” You told him. Dominik eyes narrowed a bit. “I know, it doesn’t make any sense.”

A small laugh fell from his lips, “Not at all. They were waiting for the day you and I would get together. I’ve had a big crush on you since the first day we met, Y/N. I never said anything because I didn’t think I had a chance.” Dominik cheeks started to blush just a little bit as he said this. You couldn’t stop the smile from forming on your lips.

“Dom, you have always had a chance with me. I’ve liked you for a while now. As you know, I was nervous too.” You admitted as well.

Dominik’s beautiful brown eyes were staring into your eyes. He leaned in to kiss you. This time around, you didn’t pull away. You and Dominik kissed, and it felt right. This was meant to be.

“Finally! We’ve been waiting on this forever.” You and Dominik pulled away to see Rey and Aalyah standing there.

Dominik sighed, “Dad, come on. This was a moment with Y/N and I.” He pointed out to Rey.

“Not anymore. We have to celebrate winning the Smackdown Tag-Team titles and your relationship with Y/N finally blossoming.” Rey stated while Aalyah nodded her head.

“He’s right. This is night we have to celebrate.” You held Dominik’s hand.

“You are right about that one, beautiful.” Dominik agreed with you as you both began walking down the hall, following Rey and Aalyah.

#dominik mysterio x reader #dominik mysterio oneshot #dominik mysterio #wwe x reader #wwe oneshots #wwe oneshot #wwe fluff #dominik mysterio oneshots #donni writes

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fandom-monium · 3 years

Text

For the Holidays

Summary: In which Spencer does not want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

WC: 2.1k

Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), Morgan trying to be a good big bro (and wingman)

Spencer Reid does not hate Christmas.

“Reid, come on⎼”

“No.”

“Just listen to me.”

“I did, and it’s a stupid idea.”

No, really. Because hating Christmas would imply he didn’t care. Which he does.

Like when Garcia never fails to drag him into decorating the bullpen every year. Obnoxious Christmas music plays in the background as they bomb Hotch’s office, and it’s worth the smile on his face when he walks in the next morning.

It would mean hating Rossi and his extravagant dinner parties. And yeah, he always hosts but these are just as special if not more so. His mansion is decked in fairy lights and streamers, the food are traditional holiday recipes, and the whole place seems a little less massive.

And he doesn’t hate his breaks. He nearly spits out his coffee when Morgan grumbles about how he almost tripped and fell over from the ice. He has to scramble away as the older man bats at him.

Or when Prentiss drops off holiday-themed pastries? Mhm, just thinking of the ribbon-tied box makes him salivate.

Hating the Christmas card is completely out of the question. Henry and Michael make them every year for the entire team, and JJ makes an effort to shake them out carefully for. It has a boyish charm Spencer never had at their age, a mess of glitter and construction paper. He displays it on his desk anyway.

And you. It would mean hating all the various hot chocolate beverages you’ve made since December started.

Apparently, it’s serious business⎼the art of hot chocolate making. You’ve leaned against his desk, hands waving about as you try to articulate to him the relevance, going over anything and everything you can remember of its history and significance. Of course, he knows all of this already, but he likes you too much to stop you. He almost releases a loving sigh. Instead, he settles for nodding and grinning at you, and he doesn’t really get it but he loves it: the hot chocolate, your pensive expression as you await his critique, even though by now he’s sure you know he has no other comments except ‘delicious’.

He loves it all. He loves you⎼all of you guys. Obviously.

So, no. He does not hate Christmas.

But that doesn’t mean he loves it either.

Which is why, when Morgan leans against his desk, he greets him as normal, a smile forming on his lips as he sets his book down. There is no danger here, except Morgan’s guns. And the heinous green and red envelope between his fingers⎼

Where the hell did he get that.

Spencer’s blood froze. His collection of trauma was nothing compared to this.

Now here he is, packing away his things so he can go home to his warm, cozy apartment and order takeout like he does every year. He's not one for change. No need to break tradition.

But Morgan is acting like a child. Wait, no, even children are better behaved than this. Children at least give up faster.

“I’m telling you, it’s a good idea.”

“As a certified genius, I can say with all honesty, it is not.”

“I promise you it’ll be fine,” Morgan reassures him, voice soothing. The letter, colorful and bright and an eye sore, mocks Spencer. He wishes his reflexes were faster, so he can snatch the abhorrent cluster of sparkles and poorly printed holiday cartoons. And shred it.

Maybe if he glares hard enough, it’ll burst into flames.

“Morgan, my class hated me. The whole school hated me,” Spencer shoves another book into his satchel. It's harder than he means to, and he sends a silent apology to Stephen King; he usually handles his books with care. But not right now. Now, he's tired and exasperated and he just wants to curl up on his couch with The Doctor. "I'm sure I won't be missed."

"But you’re the life of the party!"

Spencer looks up.

Morgan winces, "Yeah, even I wouldn't believe me.” Spencer snorts, continuing to stuff his belongings into his satchel. Morgan’s relentless however. “But you deserve to show them up. You’ve got degrees⎼plural⎼and you're a hotshot FBI agent.”

“Are you not aware of the tragedy that is my high school social experience?”

“Oh, I'm very aware, and thank you for being vulnerable with me. But it's because I care that I’m telling you.”

Morgan’s hand falls heavy on his shoulder, making Spencer pause. He meets his gaze, the man’s expression solemn.

“You deserve to rub it in their faces until the only thing they can smell is your success.”

Morgan grins when that draws out a laugh from him.

Spencer huffs, “Shouldn't we be the bigger person here by not going?”

The older man grimaces, retracting his hand as if the idea offends him. “Fuck that. Be a show off! They deserve to be knocked down a peg after what they did to you in high school.”

Spencer bites his lip. Yes, he’s accomplished, and yeah, as Morgan said, he’s a ‘hot shot FBI agent’. But the memories surge in like a broken dam, cruel laughter and harsh words crashing into him as if he’s twelve years old again. He’s an adult now, so he doesn’t topple over from the impact like before, but the pain is a phantom limb, old and familiar, and leaves a pit in his stomach.

He was a child prodigy then. How would going back as he is now be any different?

Morgan's heart clenches when an unspoken pain flits across Spencer’s face, glossing over his eyes. He can't imagine how deep the emotional scars go, but he knows Spencer needs some form of closure from his past. So when he found the invite, he knew they had to seize the chance. If he wants to continue to move forward, Spencer has to learn to let go. And right now, this is his first class ticket. It’s why he’s pushing this so hard.

This is for Spencer.

But the doctor shakes his head, a strained smile tugging his lips. “Morgan, I had no friends. Even if I go, what am I supposed to do once I arrive? It'd be awkward enough as is.”

“True,” The older man contemplates, a light bulb going off as he snaps his fingers. “You know what you should do? Ask (Your Name) to go with you.”

“(Your Name)?” Spencer jolts, fumbling to catch his phone. Despite being a man of science, his eyes dart around, like you’re a demon summoned at the mention of your name. “Wha-what? Why?”

“They could act as your buffer. And you did say you wanted to be closer with them. This is the perfect opportunity,” Morgan shrugs. Like his suggestion is common sense, logical. Maybe it is.

But this is you they’re talking about. You would never. You’re too cool for a silly high school reunion.

At least, that’s what he’s convinced himself as Spencer’s face pinches. He catches his lip with his teeth. “Morgan, I appreciate the… thought, but I could never ask (Your Name).”

“Ask me what?”

… Oh no. You are a demon.

Spencer whirls around in time to see the glass door shut behind you. You stand there in all your poise and beauty, the fluorescent lights softening your expression. You're bundled up in a matching coat and scarf, the knitted beanie snug on your crown and clashing with your outfit (Garcia told you it’s not your Christmas present, but you’ve worn it everyday since). There’s sprinkles of snow all over you.

You’re not a demon, Spencer decides, even as you brush a clump off your shoulder, nose scrunched in annoyance. More like a snow angel.

You tilt your head curiously when Spencer doesn’t answer immediately. There’s a knowing look on his face as Morgan, realizing the poor guy probably won’t respond any time soon, steps up.

“(Your Name), I thought you went home already.”

You cross the bullpen. “I was. Garcia walked me down and I got to the courtyard. Then I realized she had me so distracted that I left my phone charger,” You rummage around your desk and without looking up, you reiterate, “So ask me what?”

Spencer blinks. “What?”

“You had something to ask me, right?”

Right. That. He runs his fingers through his hair awkwardly. “Actually, I don’t⎼oof.”

Morgan jabs his side, “Yes, there is something Reid needs to ask you.” He sends him a meaningful look.

“Shoot.” You nod to them before rifling through your desk drawers. Nope, not there. You card through files and office supplies, oblivious to the conversation Spencer and Morgan have with their eyes, shooting looks and mouthing at each other.

You bend over your desk as Morgan gestures, Ask them!

Spencer shakes his head vigorously, No!

Do it, or I'll do it for you, he mouths.

Spencer squints at him. You wouldn't.

Morgan smirks and Spencer's heart drops to his stomach. Before he can run, shout for help, literally anything, the man slings a buff arm around his shoulders, forcing Spencer to slightly bend down to his level, hugging him to his side.

He's trapped. Stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Fuck.

“Reid is going to his high school reunion,” Morgan starts, biting back a grin when the nerd squirms against him. Both men boys watch, one excited and the other petrified as you disappear behind your desk.

“That’s nice.”

"Yeah. But all his classmates are older than him and married…“

“Uh-huh…” You scan the dark floors, half-listening as Spencer frowns at the unnecessary detail. He never told Morgan such a thing. He didn’t even know, so how would Morgan-?

“So, can you guys pretend to be a couple or something?”

Thud.

“What!?”

Luckily, neither of you notice the other’s surprise as Spencer chokes on air at the same time you let out a pained hiss.

Morgan lets him pull away, withholding a snicker. “You good, (Your Name)?”

“I’m okay!” Your head pops up from under your desk as you rub the top of your head. You blink owlishly. “I’m sorry, did you just ask me to pretend to be your partner?”

“Yes! But Reid’s partner,” Morgan emphasizes, slapping the doctor’s back hard enough he nudges forward.

You stand and Spencer straightens up, trying not to fidget as your gaze burns into his. You’ve known each other for quite some time now, and while Spencer likes to think he knows you pretty well, it bothers him when your expression becomes unreadable. He knows it shouldn't but it does. He’s a profiler, yet your thoughts are completely obscured by a mask. It only makes him more nervous than he already is.

His skin feels hot when your eyes trail over him, and he prays his scarf is enough to cover the flush spreading from his neck.

He's about to disintegrate when you finally answer.

"Okay."

His brow shoots up and his heart flips. You move away from your desk as he sputters, "Really? Are⎼are you sure? I don’t want to put you out of your way.”

“I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. Why?” You step closer, and he can’t breathe, not without it hitting your face. You stare him down the bridge of your nose, eyes narrowed. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”

“What? No, of course not!”

You raise an eyebrow expectantly. “Then it’s settled? We’ll pretend to be a couple for your reunion thing?"

A beat of silence. Spencer realizes you're waiting for his confirmation. But panic rises like bile in his throat and he hesitates.

Maybe he should back out now, retract the entire conversation and take the embarrassment like a man. Tell you he was never planning to attend the stupid reunion because his classmates were (and probably still are) assholes. Honesty is key to any relationship after all.

Especially between coworkers. Ahem.

A flicker of movement and Spencer glances over your shoulder. Morgan nods frantically at him, teeth flashing as he grins wider than before. He gives him two thumbs up.

Maybe, for once, he should pull a Morgan and just vibe it.

Yeah. Yeah!

Swallowing, he nods to you, giving you his signature white-person smile because he's sure if he speaks he might blurt out something completely inappropriate. Like statistics on workplace relationships (they’re great reading material, okay).

Your lips quirk up. "Cool. Text me the details when you get the chance.”

You brush past him before he manages a reply, your footsteps fading. Morgan waggles his eyebrows at Spencer. Spencer blankly stares after you.

“What just happened?”

“You just got a date to your reunion. A fake date, mind you, but you’re welcome nonetheless,” Morgan smirks at him. “So, you got a plan, Pretty Boy?”

His face falls, and the hearts in his eyes⎼shit, had they always been there?⎼chip slightly.

He does not have a plan.

Deleted scene:

“Did you do it?”

“It went all according to plan, Mama.”

AN: I fucked myself over and wrote 7k+ and still counting. Now it’s an unplanned holiday mini series. This kind of stems from Bonding as this uses Mysterious!Reader. Also, I seem to be into pining (fuck established relationships, suffer in silenceee). Whatever holiday you celebrate, I hope you still enjoy this one shot!!

One of the biggest disappointments of CM: Spencer doesn’t confront his high school bullies. I read several fics of him doing so, but a lot of them have the bullies be just as much of an asshole as they were to him in the past, but he deserves more closure.

This will be my take on it. It’ll be a lot of pining but I hope to focus on the his hardships in a less angsty, dramatic way.

Hope you enjoy it!! There will be at least 3 parts?

Also, spread the usage of the term ‘partner’, which can be used for same-sex and opposite-sex relationships.

#spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #mgg fanfiction #mgg imagine #mgg fic #my writing #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds

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sunlight-moonrise · 4 years

Text

Satisfied Curiosity (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Bartender!Reader does everything she can to get the cute FBI agent’s attention.

A/N: This wasn’t suppose to be so long or late, but my mind got the best of me. Big Thanks to @spencer-reid-in-a-pool and @reidetic for being amazing Betas (you guys are precious!). This story would be utterly unintelligible without them. Also thank you to everyone who showed love to my first fic. I didn’t expect for it to receive half of the attention it was given. I’m super grateful and I hope to provide more for you all. Enjoy!

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Sexting, Oral (Male Receiving), Fingering, Penetrative Sex, Rough Sex, Degradation

Word Count: 9.1K (sorry, not sorry)

Masterlist

I’d like to think that I’m able to read people pretty well. Since working as a bartender for the past five years, I can examine an individual and have their personality down pat. Facial expressions, body language, posture, gestures. All these things are basically words to a story that I am able to put together.

My thought process was cut off when I noticed these two guys sitting at the end of the bar. I regarded them momentarily. They don’t look like the typical bar patron, their clothing a little too unseemly for a place like this. They were surveying the area as if looking for something.

I got a side profile of the tan Hispanic man. He had dark curly hair and trimmed facial hair. He was talking lowly to the man he was sitting with, their eyes still skimming all over their surroundings. I couldn’t get a good look at the other guy since his back was to me.

They sat tall, their bodies alert to any movement. It was as if it was their first time at a bar, but I know they were not uncomfortable here. There were no jittery movements from what I can see; no telltale signs that they were nervous. They also were not paying much attention to the people around them, focusing more on random spots within the place. Weird. Are they inspectors? Nah, that can’t be. Drew always gives us a heads up when visitors come. Plus, we got checked a few weeks ago.

The two finally turned towards my direction, and I was able to see the other guy. Wow, he was hot. Like very hot. Loose brown curls sat wildly on his head, looking as if he just rolled out of bed. He had a light stubble going on, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw. Damn, I bet I’d cut myself just touching it. He had a beautiful pair of pink lips. I quickly turned my attention to his left hand, noticing the lack of a ring. No wife, good. Now I need to make sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend or fiancée waiting for him at home.

I trailed my eyes upward, noticing that he was staring at me as well. I felt my face heat up when I saw him smirk. Damn, he caught me checking him out. His companion was also looking at me expectantly. They probably have been trying to get my attention for a while now, most likely to order some drinks. I made my way towards them, smoothing my hands over my jeans.

“Evening fellas, would you like to see a menu?” I asked as I placed some napkins in front of them.

“No thanks, but my partner and I would like to ask you some questions…” said the Hispanic man with a small pause. He quickly looked at my name tag before looking back at me “…(Y/N)”

The fuck? Partners? I didn’t think they were a couple. I did a quick glance over at them. Two Alpha males in a relationship rarely ever work out. They were not physically close to one another either. Sigh, you always fall for the ones you can’t get.

I didn’t answer them, still mentally distraught over this taken man. I’m sure they took my silence as confusion because the Hispanic man went on to explain, “I’m Luke Alvez and this here is Dr. Spencer Reid,” they flashed their badges, showing me some credentials. “We’re with the FBI.” Oh. I glanced toward Dr. Reid, a smile tugging on my lips. Score, we’re back in business.

I figured I might be here for a while so I got myself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as I can get standing behind a bar. I leaned towards them, my hands resting on the bar top. “Well, in that case, fire away.”

“Have you noticed any males here who arrived by themselves? This man likely sits alone, only interacts with women. He presents himself as a charming gentleman. His head would be facing downwards if he were sitting at the bar and he would probably wear some kind of hat to shield himself,” asked Luke.

“That’s roughly 50% of my male patrons, you’ll have to be more specific.”

“Yea, I should have figured that is not much to go by.”

I turned my attention back to the doctor who has yet to say a word, noticing that he was once again looking at random spots around the bar. “Your friend here is awfully quiet.”

At my comment, Spencer finally looked at me. I am sure that time stopped as his honey-colored eyes stared deeply into my own. If it wouldn’t come off strange, I’d stared at them all day.

He eventually turned away from me, “This place has a lot of blind spots.” He pointed to one corner by the back and another near the billiards table. It took a moment for me to comprehend what he was saying since I was distracted by the sound of his voice. He could probably recite Shakespeare and I’d think it was erotica.

He continued talking, oblivious of my swooning. “The man we are looking for does not want to be seen, he’ll know where to be so that the camera can’t spot him. He’ll likely bring the woman he’s talking to there or even over there,” he pointed to another spot, this time it was a small crook partially hidden behind a wall.

“The area by the restroom entrance also has no camera at all so he’ll possibly spend some time there as well,” he finished.

“I’d think I’ll notice some creep hanging near the bathrooms all night,” I remarked. “However, we have a security room in the back if you want to look over some footage.” I pointed to a door opposite the kitchen’s entrance.

“That’ll be very useful, thanks,” Luke reached into his pocket and took out his phone. He turned to Spencer saying “I’ma call Garcia, see if she can run some facial recognition on this guy.” With that, he walked to the security room.

I focused my attention back on Spencer, hoping he’ll stay here a bit longer. “May I ask you a question?”

“You just did,” he said, the damn smirk on his face once again. Smartass.

“Haha, I’m serious,” He didn’t say anything, which I took as my cue to continue. “What exactly does someone like you do in the FBI?”

“Someone like me?” he repeated.

“Well, you do not look like a typical agent,” I stated, and he just raised a single eyebrow at me. “Not to say that you’re probably bad at your job. I’m sure that you’re amazing at whatever it is that you do. I’d just like to know exactly what it is. Like what does your job entail…” Great, out of all times for my motor mouth to talk off, it chose this moment.

Spencer didn’t say anything and the awkward pause was killing me. I wanted to grab his gun and shoot myself in the foot. He probably thought I was insulting him. He continued to watch me as I fidgeted under his stare.

Finally, he decided to show me some mercy. “I use psychology to profile and find people,” he put it simply.

“That’s it?” I questioned.

“Pretty much,” he stated evenly, focusing his attention on the napkin in front of him. His body was slightly tenser than before, telling me that he was uncomfortable. I decided to drop the topic.

I scanned his being in an attempt to find something, anything that would allow me to continue talking to him. He beat me to it. “Which Sherlock portrayal are you a fan of?”

I was momentarily confused as to how he knew I was a fan. “Um, I started watching BBC’s Sherlock but I find the books to be much more interesting than the show. Are you a fan?”

“Of the books, yes. I haven’t had the chance to watch any of the series or films. I always find that reading offers a better experience. That’s a nice pin you have by the way.”

Pin? I looked down and remembered my “I am Sherlocked” pin clasped next to my name tag. Gosh, I feel like an idiot. Just when I was going to reply, I saw Luke stepping out of the security room.

I turned back towards Spencer, who was digging his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a card and gave it to me. “The number of the precinct we are helping is on here. If you have any further information, you should contact them.”

What, no. I don’t want him to leave yet. “But what if I want to talk to you more?”

“My number is on the back.” I flipped the card around and was greeted by a ten-digit code sprawled out in blue ink.

A smile adorned my face as I looked back at him. “How did you do that?” There’s not even a pen near his hands. Unless he carries all these cards with his number on it, which I severely doubt.

“You ask a lot of questions,” he stated.

“I’m a naturally curious person.”

He paused for a moment to dart his tongue across his lips. He made sure to look into my eyes before saying “You know that curiosity killed the cat.”

“But satisfaction brought it back.”

He gave a low laugh, “Touché.”

Just then Luke walked back to us, his phone to his ear. “C’mon man. The team needs us back at the station. There’s been another victim.”

“We’ll talk later,” Spencer said to me. My heart skipped a beat at his words. I felt like a kid who had a childhood crush.

Spencer got up and with one last glance at my direction, the two of them headed out the door.

Well, there goes the best part of my day. I’m being selfish wishing that he would have stayed behind. The man is here to find a criminal, not get his dick sucked. I folded the card and slid it into my pocket before grabbing a rag. These shot glasses aren’t going to clean themselves.

●The Next Day●

I spent the last few hours debating on whether or not I should text Spencer. I tried to distract myself with mundane activities. I watched TV, did my chores, even attempted to read a book, but nothing kept my interest. I grabbed the card that was sitting idly on my dresser, pondering on what to do.

You shouldn’t. But I’m bored and he’s cute. He’s an FBI agent for crying out loud. He got important things to do. What’s the worst that can happen? You could get arrested for obstruction of justice. Or I can get closer to him and find out more about him.

It is settled. I added Spencer’s number to my contacts and perched myself on my bed before sending a short text.

‘Hello Dr. Reid.’ I waited a minute, then two, then three, anxiously hoping for a response back. This was a bad idea, he’s probably at another bar trying to catch this guy. I should just delete his number and make myself a sandwich.

Right when I was going to do just that, my phone vibrated. I never opened my messages so fast in my life.

‘(Y/N). Is everything okay?’

A smile broke across my face as I pondered on what to send him. Should I keep everything cute and sweet? Nah. That’s boring. Should I send some salacious texts? No, he’ll probably think I am some kind of skank. Perhaps I should go for the playful persona?

I finally decided to type out a message, not wanting him to wait any longer. I don’t need him thinking that I’m in actual danger because I don’t know how to respond to a simple text.

‘I’m more than okay now that you’re here.’

I didn’t have to wait long before his next text came in. ‘Is there something that you need?’

Oh Spencer, if only you knew. However, what I want cannot be attained at the moment. I quickly typed across my keypad, ‘That’s a loaded question.’

Apparently he did not like that since his next reply was, ‘I don’t have time for this. I am working right now.’

Well shit, should I stop? Hell no, we are in too deep. Besides, he could always choose to ignore my messages instead of responding. And he did give me his number instead of just leaving me with the precinct’s. With that in mind, I typed out a text and quickly pressed send before I started second-guessing my choices again.

‘So you don’t want to talk to me?’

Again, I didn’t have to wait long for his next message to come through. ‘You should only contact me if you have information pertinent to the man we are looking for.’

That’s bullshit. Why give me your number if you didn’t want me to talk to you? ‘You said we’ll continue the conversation later. It’s later.’

‘Later, When I am not working.’ he clarified.

If I were a smart girl, I would have left this alone so that he could work peacefully. But I’m not. ‘All work and no play makes for a grumpy doctor. Don’t you want some entertainment?’

‘You’re acting childish.’

I couldn’t help but grin at his statement. If only he knew. Well, I could drop him a hint or two. ‘I’ve been compared to a brat before.’

‘I’m not surprised.’

‘I’m a glutton for punishment, agent.’

‘Do you want me to deliver?’

My breath caught in my throat. Could it be? Does Dr. Reid have a darker side to him? Or maybe I’m reading too deeply into this. I don’t care, I’m having too much fun at the possibility of this man having a more unhinged side to him. I wanted to see it. I decided to be cheeky with him, ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you Sir.’

‘What are you trying to get at?’ One step forward and two steps back. I guess profiling and mind-reading are not one and the same if he has to ask me this. Or maybe he isn’t used to someone asking him to dick them down without outright saying they want him to dick them down.

‘I said it already, I just want to talk to you.’

It took a couple of minutes for his reply to come through. ‘We’ll talk later.’

I decided to give Spencer a break. I got what I wanted with his earlier comment. I ended everything with an ‘I’ll hold you to that,’ and put my phone down. I looked at the clock on my bedside table and saw that an hour had passed. I guess time really does fly when you’re having fun. I might as well start getting ready for work.

●●●

Four hours into my shift and the crowd near the bar was barely manageable. I’m not a big fan of working Friday evenings. I easily get annoyed with the sloppy drunks who think they could hook up with any of the workers but the tips usually make up for it at the end of the night.

I was grabbing some bottles of beer when all of a sudden I got a twisted feeling in my gut. I felt the hairs in the back of my neck stand up, and not in a good way. Call it a sixth sense, but I suspected that something was wrong, very wrong. I placed the bottles down and looked at the countless customers littered around the bar top. My eyes landed on this man who was giving off some creepy vibes.

I’d like to think I had a pretty good memory and this guy was definitely new. He was hunched over, eyes looking at the menu on the table. He was rapidly tapping his finger on top of the table, so I assumed he was feeling uneasy. Every once in a while, his head would peek up, as if he was searching the crowd for someone. He had a baseball cap on, the hat pressed tightly down on his head, his blond hair barely peeking through.

From what I can see he was attractive enough. A full-on beard decorated his face. He had on a leather jacket and a fitted shirt; seemingly trying to give off bad boy vibes. I started making my way towards him, “Is there anything you’d like to order?”

“That depends, are you on the menu?” Ugh. Gag. If I had a dollar for every time some Casanova wannabe used that line on me, I could pay for two months of my rent. He had a smile on his face that could be charismatic but I just found it downright disturbing.

“Food and drinks only. Sorry to disappoint.”

“That’s fine sweetheart, I’ll have whatever beer y’all got on tap.” As I walked away, I could feel his eyes leering at me. Should I text Spencer? No, I dealt with creeps before, this is nothing new.

I turned back to where Mr. Creepy Guy was previously sitting but he was no longer occupying the seat. Fuck. I took a look around the crowded pub, hoping to spot him. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you see it, I did. He was near the bathroom entrance talking to some girl who hardly looked like she could keep herself up.

Shit, I should get Spencer right now. I pondered on whether I should call him but figured that he wouldn’t be able to hear me over the volume of the crowd. I hurriedly pull my phone out of my pocket, trying my best to send the message as fast as my shaky hands can manage.

‘I’m pretty sure the man you’re looking for is here. You should bring some officers ASAP.’

Come on, Come on, Come on, have your cell on you. My phone vibrated, alerting me of a message. Oh thank god yes. ‘Are you serious?’ it read.

What the? Does he think I’m pranking him or something? I angrily typed on my screen, ‘This isn’t exactly something I will joke about Spencer.’

‘We’ll be there soon’ came his simple response. Okay, good. Now I just need to make sure that this guy doesn’t try to escape.

I looked back up and saw Mr. Creepy Guy still near the restrooms. One of his hands was holding on to the girl’s arm and I just knew he was trying to get her out of here. Spencer and company won’t arrive fast enough. I have to do something to make him stay longer.

I turned to my co-bartender, Manny, “I am going to take a 10 minute break.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before I opened the small door dividing us from the crowd and made my way to Mr. Creepy Guy.

Once I got to the two of them, I spewed the first thing that came to mind, “Uh, excuse me. You um, forgot your drink. You know, the beer. That you ordered. At the bar earlier. About 10 minutes ago.” God, I looked like an idiot, but I couldn’t risk saying something that made him apprehensive.

Mr. Creepy guy sneered at me, “Yeah. I didn’t want it anymore.” Well, who shit in your cereal, mister. Oh right, that would be me. I gotta keep him a bit more distracted.

“Well if you order something, you gotta pay for it. Bar’s policy.” He continued to glare at me upset that I was being a cockblocker. Or more appropriately a murderblocker. Realizing that I wasn’t going away soon, he pulled a bill from his pocket before throwing it at me. Wow I wonder where his pleasant attitude disappeared to.

I turned my attention to this poor girl and noticed she wasn’t looking too good. I assumed she was drunk but she looked way off it; as if she had been drugged or something.

Fucking hell, she probably has been. She can’t stand on her own two feet and she could barely stop her eyes from drooping downwards.

“Your friend here doesn’t look too good,” I commented, my hand already going towards the arm he wasn’t currently holding on to.

“She’s fine. We were just about to leave, right Sarah?” he asked the girl. ‘Sarah’ didn’t say a word, too busy trying her best to not crash down on the floor.

“Nonsense, we can’t have you leaving in such a state, it would look bad on us,” I improvised. “We’ll give her something real quick to help sober her up.” I hastily scanned the room, spotting Hannah, one of my coworkers, a few feet away.

“Hey Hannah,” I shouted, garnering her attention. I gestured for her to come here and she started walking over. When she stood in front of us, I pried ‘Sarah’ out of Mr. Creepy Guy’s hold and gently ushered her into Hannah’s arms.

“This is Sarah and she’s not feeling all that well. Can you tell Manny to give her the Queen’s special?” Hannah instantly knew what was up. The Queen’s special is our code name for helping those who we believe are in an uncomfortable or dangerous situation. Most of the time, the person is coherent enough to ask for help, but for these kinds of scenarios we’ll have to rely on our own wits.

The two walked, or in Sarah’s case, stumbled away. Hannah managed to give Mr. Creepy Guy a glare which he openly returned in my direction. I gave him a small smile, hoping he didn’t get suspicious and try to leave.

“She’ll be right back, would you like that beer while you wait?” I asked.

“No, you did enough,” He jeered, taking slow steps back. I could have sworn he muttered ‘fucking bitch’ as he disappeared in the crowd, no doubt hightailing it out of here.

Crap, I should follow him. At least I’ll be able to tell the cops what direction he went or what his license plate number is. I started walking to the exit, shoving my way through the sweaty mass of people.

Once I got to the door, I pushed it open feeling the cool air hit my face. I looked around, trying to see if I could find Mr. Creepy Guy but to no avail. I walked a few steps down, searching to see if he went down an alley or something.

The place was eerily quiet and my nerves were starting to get the best of me. I suddenly felt a hand roughly grab my shoulder and let out an ear-piercing scream. I whirled around, my hand already in a fist to punch the living daylight out of this person.

Right when my hand was going to make contact, a hand closed around my fist. No problem, I’ll just kick you in the shin. My leg was about to leave the ground when I heard a stern “Calm down (Y/N).”

I know that voice. For the first time, I looked up and saw that it was Spencer behind me. I never realized beforehand how easily he towered over my form. He released my hand and I leaned my body against the wall next to me. The adrenaline from earlier leaving me.

“What the fuck Spencer, a little warning next time,” I angrily shouted at him. “You could have said my name before grabbing me or just tapped my shoulder. I don’t like being manhandled.”

“I severely doubt that,” he whispered. Wait, what. “Is the man still inside?” he asked in a louder voice than before.

“Um no. That’s the reason why I came out here. I was trying to find where he went.”

“And you decided to check an alleyway.” I casted my eyes down, paying attention to a piece of gravel on the floor. The tone of voice he was using made me feel as if I was in trouble. “Do you know what kind of danger you just put yourself in? What if it was him behind you instead of me just now?” he chastised.

“I was fighting back,” I retorted.

“And you were losing that fight. You had no weapon of any kind to help defend yourself. You are no match for a fully grown male who sees girls like you as nothing but property,” Spencer snapped.

I felt miffed that he was scolding me about my safety but a pathetic part of me was turned on as well. I decided to switch this conversation back to what was important. “He’s a Caucasian man. About 5’9 with dirty blonde hair and facial hair. He had a Salem Red Sox cap and a faux black leather jacket. Burgundy henley shirt with black washed jeans and white Adidas,” I recounted from my memory.

He recited everything word for word into his radio. “Go back inside, we’ll take care of it from here.”

“You’re fucking welcome by the way,” I sarcastically stated. Before I could blink, Spencer slammed his hands on either side of my head and was staring intently into my eyes. I felt my heart rate pick up instantly. I didn’t know whether to be scared or horny so my body decided on both.

He had a carnal look in his eyes and I felt a light shiver run down my spine. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. It was as if it happened in slow motion, my eyes hungrily following the movement. He opened his mouth to speak and I was eagerly anticipating his words.

“Reid, come in. We need you for backup.” What the..? It was then that I noticed his comms were still on and one of his team members was trying to get his attention.

“Go back inside,” Spencer repeated, “We’ll continue this later.” Yeah fucking right. This is the third time you’ve told me this in the thirty hours I’ve known you. Nevertheless, I obeyed but it wasn’t because he told me; it was because I got paid by the hour and I was already gone for over fifteen minutes. At least that’s what I kept telling myself as I walked back inside.

I turned around to get a glimpse of his retreating form but he was already gone.

●●●

It was past midnight and I had about forty-five minutes left until my shift ended. The place was a lot emptier right now, which is pretty shocking. However, I’m guessing no one wanted to be around and get wasted when the cops were roaming about barely an hour ago.

I was pouring some shots for this couple when I felt a vibration in my pocket. I finished serving the duo before fishing my phone out, opening my messages straight away. ‘We caught the guy.’

I didn’t bother reading the name, knowing already who it was. Is it wrong of me to be a bit upset? I’m happy there’s one less criminal on the streets but I wanted to see Spencer some more.

Hmmm. There’s still a chance to make something happen, but I can’t mess it up. I quickly typed, ‘I should get a reward. I did help you catch the guy.’

I assumed that I’d have to wait a few minutes for him to respond but that was not the case. ‘And what is it that you want?’ It’s now or never.

‘You.’

I’m guessing he had his phone glued to him right now because his reply was immediate. ‘You don’t know who you’re dealing with.’

‘I’m not scared Spencer.’ If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he didn’t want me. But all the heated moments we had shared thus far had to have meant something.

‘You should be, I’m not the man that you need.’ was his reply.

I decided to be a bit cheeky, remembering that it gave me some results when I was messaging him earlier today. ‘You’re a man and I am in need, that’s more than enough for me. Save the rest for the pillow talk.’

I didn’t even get to put my phone down before his next text arrived. ‘This isn’t a good idea.’

Damn, this man is a hard nut to crack, but he has made me stubborn for him. I guess I’ll have to use my ultimate weapon.

Taking note of my surroundings, I dimmed the brightness of my phone and made sure to keep it close to my body. I don’t need any of the customers or coworkers to have a sneak peek into my secret album. I opened the app that holds all of my inappropriate photos, pondering on which one I should send to Spencer.

My eyes landed on one I took pretty recently. I’m not trying to sound conceited or anything but I looked fucking hot. It was erotic and sensual, but not overly so.

I was lying on my bed, one hand holding onto my chest while the other held the phone up. My fingers were spread apart, allowing for the taunt nipple of my left breast to peek out. The dim lighting of the lamp helped accentuate the curves of my body. The picture includes the lower half of my face, where I was biting down on my lower lip. I was wearing a white lacy thong that barely left anything for the imagination.

I quickly clicked on the photo and made it so that he’ll have to download the image before seeing it. I added the caption Warning, it’s a bit NSFW, before hitting send. Crossing my fingers, I hoped for a reply soon.

I waited and waited but my phone did not notify me of any new messages. Five minutes have passed and I was shit out of luck. Welp I tried. Now I gotta pick up my pride from the floor.

Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrate and I felt happiness immediately taking over. At first, I thought it was a text message, except the vibrations kept going and going. Realization hit me, it’s an incoming call. I grabbed it quickly, a small squeal leaving my mouth when I saw Spencer’s name appear. I accepted the call and put it towards my ear.

“Hello Dr. Reid, to what do I---“

“When does your shift end?” he interrupted. Well hot damn, no waiting around now huh.

“20 minutes,” came my simple reply.

“I’ll be outside,” and with that, he hung up the phone. Wow, I can’t believe that actually worked.

The next 20 minutes were by far the slowest time has ever went. I kept glancing at the clock, watching as each minute passed at a pain strikingly slow pace. Once it was 12:58 A.M, I already had my bag on my shoulder with my hand on the dividing door.

I made a quick mental check on the inventory I had in my purse. Wallet, check. Phone charger, check. Travel toothbrush, check. Bobby Pins, check. Condom, check. Deodorant, check. Extra panty, check. Yup, I’m ready. I’ve had too many spontaneous sleepovers to not be prepared for evenings like this.

I looked at the time and saw that it was finally 1:00 A.M. I zipped right out of here, making sure to shout my goodbyes as I made my way to the exit. Once out the door, I turned towards the corner and immediately spotted Spencer waiting for me.

I made my way towards him with the biggest smile on my face. “Hi, Spencer.”

“Get in,” he demanded.

“Why the haste?” I asked with a teasing tone behind my words.

“I’ve wasted enough time when it comes to you.” That’s a good enough reason for me. He got in the driver seat while I made my way to the passenger’s side, placing my bag on the floor near my feet.

“My house is a 20-minute drive,” I informed him. “You’ll just have to make a lef—“

“No,” he cut me off. “The hotel I am staying at is 10 minutes away from here.” And this is why I always pack the necessities.

“Alright, you’re in charge, Sir.”

Spencer didn’t respond to my little quip, choosing instead to turn the car on. Fine, play that game of yours. As soon as I put my seat belt on, he pulled out and started driving.

We’ve only been in the car for a couple of minutes before I got a bit antsy. I never did like quiet rides. I turned to him “What took you so long to get Mr. Creepy guy?”

His eyes fleetingly dashed towards my direction before focusing back on the road. “Who?”

“The man that you were looking for,” I clarified.

“We had to be sure it was him,” he stated.

“My description wasn’t enough for you.”

“It was helpful but we had to be certain. He eventually confessed to the crimes while under custody.”

“Oh,” I said. “Umm do you have a girlfriend?” A girl gotta make sure that she wasn’t becoming a homewrecker.

“A. What,” he asked. I’m pretty sure he heard me but I repeated myself anyway.

“A girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Somebody waiting for you at home?”

“I do not. I am not in a committed relationship.”

“That’s cool. Neither am I if you’re wondering,” I said. “So did you like my picture?” Apparently, my mouth does not know when to stop. Although I must admit, I’m curious to know what he thought of it.

We stopped at a red light and he gazed at me before saying “I was with my team when I got your little message. They were wondering why I got quiet all of a sudden.” I would have laughed if he didn’t have such a dark look on his face. “I did not appreciate their curiosity as to what was going on.” The light turned green, and he started driving faster now. Do FBI agents get speedy tickets for booty calls?

“Does that mean you did not like it?”

Spencer didn’t respond and I was about to ask him something else when I realized the car was parked. Oh we’re here, that was fast. He got out and went to open my door for me.

“Wow, what a gentleman.” Still no response from him. I picked up my bag and hopped out while he closed the door behind me. He made sure to lock it before grabbing my hand and leading me to the hotel’s entrance.

I couldn’t even appreciate the interior of the place since Spencer was dragging me to the elevators. He finally spoke after pressing the button for the doors to open. “I’m giving you one more chance to turn back.”

“And miss out on the fun, no way.”

The doors to the lift opened and we stepped inside. They didn’t even close fully before he pushed me against the wall and crashed his lips against mine. Fuck, the moan that left my body was embarrassingly loud; I am sure the receptionists heard it.

I went to put my arms around Spencer’s neck but he grabbed my hands and pinned them to the wall before my fingers could even touch his shoulder. His knee drew my legs apart, resting in between my thighs. A shudder ran through me, which caused him to tighten his hands around my wrists. I liked that he was releasing the wilder side of him; the side that he kept hidden from others.

He sucked my bottom lip between his and bit down on it. Instinctively, I opened my mouth which he took as a green light to plunge his tongue inside. It was sloppy, it was raunchy, but I loved it.

I was about to start grinding my pelvis against his knee when the elevator doors dinged open. As quickly as he came upon me, he pulled apart. Spencer grabbed my hand once again and tugged me down a hallway. After a few steps, we stopped in front of the door and he went to grab his key from his pocket.

I took the moment to admire him. He was still wearing what I assumed to be his work clothes. His hair looked even more messy than usual. I’d like to think that he was running his hands through it while debating on what to do with me. His eyes seemed darker, no longer the honey orbs I was captivated by the day prior. Nonetheless, they were still beautiful. His lips, my god those lips of his. Puffed out and more pink than normal. I just wanted to kiss him again.

Spencer opened the door to his room holding it open for me. Once we were inside, with the door fully closed this time, he pulled me into another hungry kiss. One of his hands held my face as the other landed on my waist. I dropped my purse on the floor, my hands promptly losing themselves in his hair.

My mouth immediately opened up, wanting to feel his tongue pressed alongside mine once more. He used the hand that was holding my waist to pull me closer until I was flushed against his body. I felt hot. Too hot. I wanted to rip off my clothes and his at this very moment.

Suddenly his face pulled away, much to my disappointment. We were trying to catch our breath as we looked at one another.

“I want you on your knees,” he rasped. I’d love nothing more but we wouldn’t be here if I were obedient.

“And if I say no?” I asked.

“Don’t pretend you’re some kind of bad girl because we both know that is far from the truth.”

“Your profiling skills need some work if you think I am a good girl who follows the rules.”

He tightened his grip on my waist. “I never said you were a good girl.”

“Then what am I?”

“You’re a cock hungry dirty whore who is going to get on her knees or be bent over mine. Your choice.” Well, who am I to argue against such logic. Although the idea of being spanked by him is exciting, I rather see him come undone by me. And on me.

I slowly sunk down to my knees as Spencer started removing his belt and unbuttoning his slacks. I helped him drag his pants and boxers down, low enough to unveil his hard dick. My mouth salivated at the sight of him and I pressed my thighs closer together. Maybe I am a cock hungry dirty whore.

I placed one hand on him, feeling the heated skin against my cooler palm. His dick gave a slight twitch at the difference in temperatures. I closed my hand, delighted by the fact that I couldn’t fit my whole first around his cock. Leaning forward, I placed a small tentative kiss on the head. I glanced up, seeing that he had his poker face on.

Now that wouldn’t do, I want to see Spencer Reid lose control because of me.

I pulled my hand back and brought it to my face. I licked the length of my palm before placing it at the base of his cock again. My opposite hand settled on his thigh to help balance myself. I leaned forward once more and lightly licked the tip before placing it inside my mouth. I sucked gently while firmly grasping the base. He rewarded me with a small grunt.

I moved down, slowly taking him inch by inch. I made sure to get him as wet as I can while gliding my lips against him. My hand pumped the remaining length that couldn’t fit in my mouth. He started to become more and more erect.

“You like this don’t you?” Spencer groaned out, “You’re such a filthy slut for me.” How is it possible that the sound of his voice is making me aroused? He placed his hands on my hair, fisting his fingers among the locks.

I moaned at his words, bobbing my head up and down at a faster pace. I moved my hand to cup his sac, giving him a gentle massage between my fingers. He gave out a choked sound as he started to slowly thrust his hips.

I drew back and kissed my way down his cock until my lips met my hand. I placed my mouth on one of his balls and gave one a light suck before running my tongue around it. “Fucking hell,” Spencer loudly exclaimed, as I returned the same ministrations to the neglected one.

I pulled away with a small pop and dragged my tongue from base to tip. My eyes looked up at him, and the sight was sexy as fuck. His mouth was opened as he was trying to catch his breath, his face slightly flushed. There was a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and the veins on his neck were more prominent.

I made sure Spencer’s eyes landed on mine as I wrapped my lips around his now full length. He started thrusting more earnestly this time as my hand went back to massaging his balls. I continued eye contact as I bobbed my head up and down on his cock.

He tightened his hands on my hair harshly, which made me more wet. Great, on top of being a cock whore, I am a pain whore. This man is bringing the worst out of me and I’m loving it.

I made sure to hollow my cheeks and swirl my tongue around his head every time I returned back up. I didn’t think I’d have this much fun with a cock in my mouth. Once I dipped my tongue against his slit and firmly clasped my hand over his sac, it was over for him.

Spencer took over and held my head in place as he started to thrust within me. I tried my best to maintain eye contact, despite the tears swelling up. My other hand clutched at the skin of his thigh, raking my nails over him. His groans were a sweet symphony to my ears. Just when I thought he was about to release himself, he stopped and pulled away from me.

“Why’d you stop?” I pouted, my lips feeling very sensitive as they moved against each other.

He panted heavily and loudly, “I don’t want to cum yet.” I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at the sight of him. He was a mess and it was all because of me.

“But I wanted to taste you.” My hand went back to grab him but he stopped me with a sharp tug of my hair.

“Behave or you won’t get a reward for sucking my dick so well,” he said flatly.

Ohh, I’m curious as to what a reward from Spencer Reid entails. He pulled me up and I had to place my hands on his chest for balance. As my legs were regaining feeling, he was staring at my face. I can already imagine what he sees. Tear stained face with puffy eyes and swollen lips. Apparently, he liked the sight because he pulled me into another kiss.

This one was much more tender than our previous kisses. His lips were soft, as if afraid they would irritate my already swollen ones. His hands cradled my head, gently tilting it up so he has better access. His tongue swirled against mine and I was surprised he wasn’t repulsed by his taste on me. So many guys would find this to be disturbing.

Spencer slowly pulled away from me. He looked into my eyes as he said, “I want you to strip then bend over the bed.”

“What if I don’t?” His once gentle hands on my face are now gripping my cheeks, making my lips pucker. He continued to stare at me and it took everything within me not to moan at his actions.

“I think you know what would happen if you don’t, do you really want that?” As much as I would have loved to mess with him some more, I did not want it at the expense of my orgasm. I’m too horny to be acting recklessly.

I started stepping away from him, doing as he requested. I would have taken my time removing my clothes, but I was too impatient. As I pulled down my panties, I noticed how damp they were. This man has made me wanton and soaked without even touching me yet.

I went over to the bed, placing myself in the desired position. The bed was tall enough where my feet were still firmly on the floor but I didn’t need to bend my knees to keep my stomach flat against the mattress.

I watched Spencer strip out of his clothes, making note of the mismatched socks he had on. Aww cute. Once he was bare, he walked up behind me and placed his hands on my hips. For a few seconds, he did nothing while I was readily anticipating his next move.

Finally, I felt his hand cup my mound and I gasped at the feeling. “You’re so wet. All of this because you had my cock in that dirty mouth of yours.” I shuddered at his words, the hairs on my arm rising up.

He started rubbing at my lower lips, spreading the arousal that has already formed all over me. “You have nothing to say now that I got my hands on you huh,” he continued, stroking his fingers against my core.

Just when I was about to say something, he sunk a single finger inside me. I inhaled sharply and buried my head into the sheets. I tried my best to move against him but the hand resting on my hip kept me at bay. He was methodical with his actions, pressing his finger against my walls as he moved in and out.

“Your pretty little cunt is taking my finger so well. You think you can handle another one?” I still couldn’t reply to him, too busy trying to even out my breathing. He then entered another finger. I moaned as he started diligently working those dexterous digits inside of me. My pussy was throbbing while he was working wonders.

A loud moan was torn out my body as Spencer’s fingers curled against my G-spot. “Oh you liked that, dirty girl,” he growled out. He curled his fingers once again and I let out an equally loud whine. He continued this every time he returned his fingers back inside of me; my throat releasing a moan whenever he did so. You’d think with all the time I spent staring at his hands that I’d be ready for him but that’s a big no.

My body was warming up and I could feel the heat pooling within me. I was a goner when a third finger entered me. He tightened his hand on my hip and I prayed that it would leave marks. I wanted to admire the bruises when this was all over.

I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the pleasure racking my body. I was so close to finding my release. The way I was pulsating around his fingers was a telltale sign that I was upon my release.

“You want to come, dirty girl, you want to come all over my hand?” he fiercely whispered. All I could do was nod against the comforters, my voice long gone by now.

I felt myself pulse and tighten around him. With just one more curl of his fingers, I was about to climax. But he suddenly pulled out and released me.

“What the fuck?” I screeched, voice coming back with a vengeance. “You said I was going to get rewarded you teasing bastard.”

“And you are. Now shut up before I change my mind.” For once, I stayed quiet, only because I really wanted an orgasm. It is the least he could do after making me all hot and bothered.

I turned my head back, wanting to see what Spencer would do next. I whimpered when I saw him put his fingers in his mouth, licking my essence off of him. I watched as he took his time, my pussy continuing to throb at the sight.

“You taste pretty good for such a whore,” he remarked once he was done. I saw him walk towards the nightstand and grab a foil packet. Excitement coursed through my veins, my body barely staying still.

He was behind me once again, and I was ready for him. I felt him rub the head against my lips, pressing down when it met my clit. He continued doing this, moving up and down against me, making sure to coat himself in my arousal. I started to wiggle my hips against him, hoping to gain some more friction.

A loud moan was torn out of my throat when Spencer suddenly grabbed my hips and buried himself inside my pussy. He let out a groan as he stilled within me. We had a moment to adjust to one another before he started rocking against me. He was hitting me deep, touching places that I didn't know were possible.

“Spencer, you feel so fucking good,” I mewled out, enjoying the feel of his cock against my walls.

He kept a steady rhythm, making sure to pull halfway out before pushing back in. Small moans left my mouth as I tried my best to return his thrusts. His hands on my hips did not allow for much movement, reminding me that he was the one in charge of my pleasure.

My body moved rhythmically against the bed, my sensitive nipples rubbing against the sheet, adding to this blissful feeling. I was burning up from the sensations wrecking my body.

“I want you to touch yourself,” Spencer growled out. I let my hand trailed down my stomach but paused when they got to my lower abdomen. I felt a bump form at my lower abdomen every time he entered me, which only added to my desire. I tightened around him and he let out a groan before giving me a powerful thrust as a warning.

My hand continued its descent to my clit, fingers rubbing against it once they met. Spencer increased the pace, slamming his hips against my ass. My legs started to tremble, my orgasm looming over my body. My hand continued to play with my clit while the other gripped the sheets tightly. I bit down on the comforter, trying my best to quiet down my moans.

One of Spencer’s hands grabbed my hair and pulled my head up. “None of that, I want to hear you. I want everyone in this hotel to know what a filthy little bitch you are. My filthy little whore,” he grunted out.

It was all too much for me. His voice, his cock, his hands. I felt wave after wave of pleasure as my release washed over me. I cried out his name; submitting to the ecstasy my body was experiencing. My muscles went limp as I attempted to return air into my lungs.

I heard Spencer grunt as my pussy pulsed and creamed around him but that did not stop his relentless pace. “Keep touching the clit of yours, I want you to come one more time.”

“I can’t,” I whimpered. I was still recovering from the powerful orgasm I just had. I won’t be able to have another one so soon.

But Spencer Reid was nothing if not diligent. “You can and you will.”

His hand that was in my hair joined mine between my legs. His fingers were so much better than mine. He pressed firmly against my clit, keeping a steady motion against me. He snapped his hips harder, the slight pain making me feel that familiar coil in my stomach.

“I know you have one more in you for me. I want you to give it to me” he uttered. I’m not sure how he is able to do it, but I felt my body start rising again.

“Sp-Spencer. Please.” I didn’t know what I was begging for as I stammered those words out. His hand between my legs pressed harder and his rhythm against me started wavering. I knew he was close to his release, but I was right there with him.

When he pinched my clit firmly against his fingers, I mewled out his name once more. The coil snapped and I couldn’t help the way I trembled once more. My body quaked against his as the shock waves overcame me. I felt as if lightning was running across my nerves.

Spencer thrusted three more times before tensing against me. I felt him jerk and spill himself inside of me. He dropped down, pressing his chest against my back and whispering my name in my ear. We both tried to catch our breaths as we came down from our high.

After a few minutes, Spencer pulled out of me and walked to a door which I assumed led to the bathroom. I’m guessing he went to dispose of the condom. I continued to lie on the bed, trying my best to catch my breath. My body was still on an all-time high, still reeling from the aftershocks of my climax. I fought against the drowsiness of my eyes, wondering how the hell I am going to stay alert on the cab ride home.

“How are you feeling?” I couldn’t even jump in surprise. I had no idea he returned and was standing right next to me. “I wasn’t too rough?”

“Best. Sex. Ever,” I drowsily responded. Spencer picked me up and maneuvered my body so that I was lying on my back. He grabbed a bottle that was standing on the nightstand; squeezing some cream into the palm of his hand. He rubbed his hands together and started massaging the lotion onto my legs. He focused his attention on my knees and thighs.

“Do you want some water? He asked. I nodded my head and he immediately went to the snack bar area. He grabbed a bottle and what looks to be a granola bar. He uncapped the bottle and gently fed the water to me.

“Do you want some food,” I shook my head at his question. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Cuddles” came my whispered response. Spencer smiled at me before settling on the bed next to me. He draped the blankets over our bodies and wrapped his hand over my waist, pulling me close.

“Goodnight Spencer.”

“Goodnight (Y/N).”

The last thing I felt was the press of his lips against my neck as my body surrendered itself to the sweet bliss of slumber.

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altsvu · 3 years

Text

not so long lost lovers

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!female reader

wc: 1.4k

summary: months after your incident during a case, hotch still worries about your well-being because... he’s always loved you and he finally expresses it with a kiss and a lot more.

tw: fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, mentions of blood/injury/shooting

a/n: this by far is literally my favorite hotch fic and it’s a long one loves! this is part one of a two part mini series. there’s also the exerpt from sorrow in here as well!! italicized words are reader flashbacks.

taglist: @storiesofsvu, @averyhotchner, @ssaic-jareau (click here if you want to be tagged!)

“Hey Y/N.”

You looked up from your paperwork to find Hotch staring down at you.

“Hotch... what is it?”

“My office?”

You nodded and watched as he walked away. You turned back to your desk and closed the files, then casually went to Hotch’s office, ignoring looks from Reid and Morgan.

“I swear, if this is about that case-“ You started, closing the door.

“You know it is.”

You sighed. “I’m fine, Hotch. I was hurt a bit and shaken up after. Nothing I haven’t seen or been through before.”

“You did not get hurt just a bit, and you were much more than shaken up. You know that.” His tone was a bit more condescending.

“Hey, don’t pull that stunt. “ you snapped. “It happens to the best of us.” The look on your face gave off different vibes than your tone. You watched Hotch as he sat at the edge of his desk after closing the shades for more privacy.

Within the first month after returning from the incident, you told him that he didn’t have to worry about you, that you were fine, even though there was a growing pit in your stomach ever since your near experience with death. There were certain things that only Hotch was able to pick up on about you, such as your lack of nutrition, only consuming water, tea, and multivitamins even when he would bring you your favorite takeout during the late nights. He also picked up on how little you spoke during briefings, and how much time you spent curled up in a plane seat looking out the window, knowing that you would usually be dominating a card game with everyone else, or spending time just talking to Hotch before taking a quick nap before landing. He wanted to reach out, wanted to know if you were okay, but sometimes it was hard.

You started working with Hotch 5 years ago, creeping up on 6, and since then, even though you were considered to be young, you became an SSA and his “top agent” in private. You were always spending more time with him at the BAU and most of the time, you ended up questioning people, examining a crime scene, or following a potential unsub’s whereabouts with him. Besides all of that, you two always had really deep conversations about anything and everything, and called each other “love” here and there. So yeah, you and Hotch had a special, platonic relationship, and you were not at all mad at it.

“Talk to me love. What are you thinking about?” Hotch asked, knowing that you had things on your mind. He sure was a profiler, all right.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You spilled your guts about the case and how you felt after taking a bullet to your upper right abdomen and watching someone get shot in front of you and having their blood spewed all over you. Hotch listened intently, studying you as you paced around his office, making occasional eye contact with him. You then made a turn and winced.

“You okay?” He whispered. He then looked down to where your hands were clutching. “Come, lemme look at it.” Walking over to Hotch, you pulled up your sweater and revealed the remains of the bullet wounds. You watched him as he gently touched it, knowing that it still stung a bit.

Everything slowed down from the time that the unsub got shot to when you felt something pierce inside you, making you fall to the ground. You didn’t know what was going on. So many voices yelling, many of your surroundings disappearing. You lifted your head ever so slightly to find blood gushing out of you, and tears started flowing. All of a sudden, a person was towering over you.

“Y/N!” they hollered. You were unable to speak. They moved closer to you, examining your face.

Hotch.

He looked at you with sorrow in his eyes, his hand caressing your cheek, wiping off some tears.

“Don’t cry, okay? Everything will be alright. I’m here.”

You nodded ever so slightly, your head throbbing.

“Love, please answer me back.”

“Hotch... put pressure...” you sniffled, struggling to get that out. Thankfully he understood, and placed his hands on the wound so you wouldn’t continue to lose blood.

“The paramedics are on their way. I’ll be there with you at the hospital, okay? Every step of the way.”

“Y/N, you know you gotta keep it covered. It’s still healing.”

You frowned. “I was in a rush today, I forgot.”

“It’s okay.”

The two of you made eye contact and held it for a bit. “Hotch, why’d you call me in here? Did you want to question my abilities as field agent after my incident? It’s been five months, damn it. I’m perfectly fine.” You faltered at the end. When you started to walk away from Hotch, given how close you two were standing, he took your hand which made you turn back around. Out of nowhere, you admired how soft his hands were and how his veins looked. You impulsively rubbed your thumb over his veins as well. “That is not at all why I called you in here.”

You realized what was going on and that was when everything rushed back to you. Why he was always treating you to takeout, why he always asked if you were okay, why he exchanged looks with you that the rest of the team could never figure out, why he had a panic attack when you got shot, why he called you love.

“Hotch...” you whispered.

“Remember when we kissed that one night 2 years ago in the bullpen at your desk? It was super random, and we vowed to never do that again?”

“Heh, yeah.” you nodded, ducking your head to hide your smile. It was the best kiss of your life, to be completely honest.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You looked up from your case file to look at Hotch. “Nothing, just thinking about myself being here at the BAU.”

“Are you having doubts?”

“Sometimes, I come in with a huge smile on my face, eager to help these people in any way that I can, eager to profile these bad guys to know what’s going on in their minds, why they do what they do, so I can get justice for their victims. But sometimes, I just can’t do it. I can’t do it, Hotch. I think I’m not good enough, I think that I’m too vulnerable out in the field. Some of these cases hit too close to home. When I sit here at my desk sometimes or when I’m trying to nap on the plane before landing, I wonder if I’m even fit for this job.” you whispered.

“It’s okay to have these thoughts, sometimes I have them myself.” Hotch paused. I want you to know that you belong here. I wanted you on my team ever since the first day I met you for training. You’re an amazing profiler as well as field agent, and you play such a major role here as an SSA. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Wow, after all this time, I never thought my unit chief would complement me like that, let alone be so sweet.” you smiled, cocking your head to the side.

“What is this about?”

“Please Hotch, nothing at all. Thank you so much. Seriously. It means a lot.”

“Of course. I care a lot about you, Y/N.”

“That’s why you took me under your wing, mentoring me. You’re honestly the reason why I am who I am.”

There was a bit of silence between the two of you. Hotch then reached over and caressed your cheek. Moving closer to you, he kissed you softly. “I’m glad that I was able to be there for you.” he mumbled against your lips after the kiss.

“It lasted for a short amount of time, but when I pulled away, I wanted more of it.” you admitted.

“And so you did.” Hotch whispered, lifting your head up gently. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it, about you. I kinda wish we didn’t make that vow.”

A slight grin was on his face as he looked at you.

“I think this is something we can break.” you whispered. Hotch knew that was his signal, and he did what he did best. Your hand crept up to the nape his neck, and he tucked some of your hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek. Leaning in, he kissed you, exactly the same way he did 2 years ago, just for a longer amount of time.

“Hey, Y/N. Come to my place tonight. I want to show you a good time.”

“I’d like that, Hotch.”

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ct-multifandom · 3 years

Text

Miracuclass Amogus Cringe

I was going back and forth about making this post, but then I saw @charming-mage ‘s and I was like screw it we’re doing this. This ended up 10x longer than I thought it’d be.

Marinette (crewmate) - tries to organize everyone into a buddy system to corner the impostors, gets frustrated when people agree to her plan and then start running rogue. When discussions start she’s leading the conversation and asking the most questions. She greatly prefers crewmate over impostor because she likes the mystery solving element of discussions.

Marinette (impostor) - whenever she kills someone she goes, “ahhhh” out loud and panics while her avatar sprints away from the body. She likes coming up with convoluted plans, especially when she can communicate with her fellow imp(s), and tries to make it seem like she’s in two places at once wether it be through venting or falsified testimony.

Adrien (crewmate) - he has to unmute and ask how to do like every individual task to the point where he’s been voted out over it before because cmon, you’ve gotta be lying about it at this point, just piece it together and stop unmuting during task time. He makes puns and sings little improvised songs while tasking. When he suspects someone but they don’t get voted out, he offers to tail them at the cost of his own safety. Same with fixing sabotages late-game. To him, getting killed is just part of the game progression, and it’s not a big deal because he trusts his fellow crewmates to avenge him and doesn’t mind ghost-tasking.

Adrien (impostor) - okay maybe he lies about not knowing tasks sometimes. But it also took him a while to learn imp mechanics and he kept asking about them out loud like, “what’s the red square task on the floor? Why’s my name highlighted?” And somehow nobody noticed while his partner(s) were like nggggg Adrien no... At least he’s good at playing innocent/fake-detective-ing in discussions. Whenever he kills someone he makes some stupid one-liner about it out loud.

Alya (crewmate) - we got Sherlock Holmes over here. She overanalyzes every tiny detail and isn’t scared to sacrifice the sus for the greater cause. When she finishes tasks, she likes to hang out by security and snoop in case of the rare satisfaction of catching someone red-handed. If there’s an emergency meeting, it’s probably because she probably saw something. She supports Crewinette’s plans to corner the imps. She thinks tasks wins are boring and that it’s a lot more fun to win through voting correctly. If they task-win or lose she stops before the new game and asks who the imps were and for a recap of their actions.

Alya (impostor) - a force to be reckoned with. She’ll wait for the perfect moment to strike someone, and then cover her tracks, join a group and win herself a strong alibi anyways. Her reputation as a ruthless detective protects her, even when the game is set to show that the ejected person was innocent. She always chooses someone to kill and someone to blame for it, but sometimes she gets carried away and they vote her off for pointing too many fingers.

Nino (crewmate) - he’s just tasking, man. If he gets killed he’s like, “oh mf” and just keeps ghost-tasking. He mostly hangs out during the discussions unless he has something solid to say, only jumping in at the end to confirm, “so we’re voting for _?”. He leads his own little crewmate squad around when he finishes tasks to protect them while they finish theirs.

Nino (impostor) - mostly plays off the strategy of his partner(s). He likes playing the protective team-player type “innocent diversion” role while the partner(s) get to killing, so when discussions start he’s totally in the clear, which gives him an opening to dodge suspicion in the future if he needs to take over killing. He pretends to fix sabotages all the time because people rely on him to do that as a crewmate.

Max (crewmate) - freakishly good at the card scanning task. People always ask for his secret and he’s like? It’s so easy? He has every map memorized to a t so he can point out the contradictions in people’s stories like an ace attorney character. It’s surprisingly really helpful. He’s the opposite of Alya in that he’s a big supporter of the “guys, stop voting off random innocent people, we have like five tasks left. Whoever hasn’t done them, just finish them” strategy.

Max (impostor) - he tries his best to protect his partner(s) in the discussion while laying low himself, and sometimes he gets voted out for it, but if he senses that there’s nothing he can do, he’ll throw them even further under the bus to build credit for himself. He doesn’t like sacrificing innocents as a crewmate, so his defenses are only sus when he’s caught being wrong. He sabotages a lot to control people’s movements and vents liberally unless he committed to a tasking group. That being said, he can go whole rounds without killing out of caution.

Kim (crewmate) - he’s the guy who calls emergency meetings early into the game only to say, “I miss you guys :)” He gets voted out all the time for doing troll-y crap and ignoring Crewinette’s plans. He’s also severely confused by some of the tasks and game mechanics, but fakes it till he makes it, until the discussion where he rarely says anything valuable and just jokes around. Sometimes, though, he’ll offer a tiny offhand detail and everyone’s like Kim, I hate to say it, but you’re a genius or that’s the piece we’ve been missing! And he’s like haha ok. He’s always behind on tasks, sometimes out of laziness, sometimes out of confusion, but he’s one of the people Max is impatiently waiting on.

Kim (impostor) - he gets caught in the act a lot and it’s hilarious, but other times he gets away with everything the entire time, which is kinda scary. He’s weirdly good at introducing so much confusion and derailment to discussions that everyone gets totally lost and doesn’t know what’s going on, allowing him to survive when they could’ve easily figured him out. Unlike Max, he knows literally nothing about the maps and always says he was at the “slidey thing” or whatever and everyone’s like idk wtf the slidey thing is, and if this were anyone else they’d be gone immediately, but it’s Kim so he might actually be telling the truth. He refuses to learn the names of anything because this really helps him out.

Alix (crewmate) - always trying to convince her friends to experiment with ridiculous game settings. Occasionally, she gets to them, and they get games with comically unbalanced imp:crew ratios, awful lighting, an overwhelming load or lack of tasks, or hilariously low cool downs. She revels in the chaos. When she tasks she usually moves from place to place alone but tries to hop in with groups to confirm her movements. She’s pretty good at sussing imps out when they offer enough information, but otherwise she just makes goofy comments with Kim.

Alix (impostor) - not too worried about killing people and venting. She moves fast and dashes from place to place, joining a group on the opposite side of the map from her last body. If anyone says, “I saw someone vent but I didn’t see who” it was probably her. She likes the “stand in a clump and watch the chaos ensue when one person drops” technique as well as the gambling “hope that the UI for the task everyone’s doing covers your killing and venting” strat. Sometimes she’s forced to vent to a dead end and gets caught, and sometimes the big brain detectives catch her, but she’s usually pretty smooth.

Rose (crewmate) - a big fan of hide and seek mode. She likes grouping up for tasks, protecting each other at the cost of efficiency. During discussions, she has a hard time believing anyone’s the impostor, and everyone’s like, Rose, we know there are exactly three of them, you can’t defend every individual person. Whenever she gets killed she is like *gasp* et tu, Brute? No matter who it was.

Rose (impostor) - runs around with her squad when... oops... looks like something got sabotaged! Uh oh, wonder who could’ve done that? She’s in a battle against that task bar more so than the players, and tries to stay away from killing. She emulates crewmate behavior perfectly so no one ever suspects her until really late. If she’s the only imp left and she has to kill, it’s like an Agatha Christie locked room mystery level of drama and betrayal within her squad. But we were all together the whole time... omfg no way... it was one of us.

Juleka (crewmate) - she secretly prefers when everyone tasks alone, but goes with the squad for Rose. She only talks in discussions if she’s 100% sure about something, and she often incomprehensibly mumbles vital evidence. ~10 minutes later when they catch the imp she’s like iItoldyouso and the crew’s like ??? If she gets killed and her tasks are done, she haunts that impostor relentlessly. Sometimes she even organizes ghost brigades in ghost chat and gets everyone to follow them.

Juleka (impostor) - definitely gets a kick out of the kill button. Whenever she takes someone down she’s like heeheehee. If she was peer pressured into a task team again, she’ll anxiously try to slip away unnoticed for a second to catch someone in the hallway outside, but if she’s alone, she’s on a hunt. Nobody is safe. When she defends herself on voice chat she also mumbles incomprehensibly and everyone’s like sure, fair enough.

Mylene (crewmate) - seasoned task group leader. She also sings little task songs like Adrien. She tries to organize people into chatting regular status updates so they can tell if someone goes missing. She reports every body she finds and actively participates in the discussion, but whenever she makes good points, she gets overlooked. Then, the crew’s like Mylene, why didn’t you say anything sooner? And she’s like agjdjdhh Either that or she gets voted off for always reporting and being too eager to discuss on top of it.

Mylene (impostor) - gets her partner(s) inside her team and tries to tag-team anyone passing by, only for all the impostors to have alibis when she reports. If the ratio is right, they can destroy their own group, and then immediately point the finger at whoever is left, which works about half the time. Mylene is a pretty convincing actress, but the high IQ tricks only work a couple times.

Ivan (crewmate) - he’ll take one for the team if he has to, especially in those sabotage cases where you’d have to be isolated and vulnerable. Otherwise he’ll protect his group. He has an “innocent until proven guilty” attitude when he runs into other people on the map, and skips during a lot of the votes.

Ivan (impostor) - we all know he can’t lie to save his life. He usually gets voted out really fast if he kills someone because he gets nervous and starts saying contradictory things when questioned. That being said, he’ll do what he can to keep his partner(s) in the clear. He never vents because the risk is too high for him, instead just running around and saying, “sorry” out loud when he catches a victim.

Nathaniel (crewmate) - he’s the opposite of Adrien in that he’ll do anything to avoid getting killed. He runs around tasking on his own, but he’s usually behind because he’s so focused on avoiding everyone, to Max’s frustration. He also never reports bodies. This causes him to be sus at all times, so he gets voted out a lot. Wild Nath sightings are rare and terrifying because he’s never in the clear and he’s just standing there, menacingly. Imp!Alix sees him as a fun combo of Where’s Waldo and Assassin.

Nathaniel (impostor) - the millisecond that cool down timer runs out, someone is getting killed. Hit and run. He’s good at entering a fairly crowded large space, striking, and staying in everyone’s blind spots while he runs away, especially when the lights are out. He likes venting to isolated areas and killing as many people per round as he can, laughing when someone finally reports and everyone unmutes to go WHAT!? at the number of deaths. He tends to operate separately from his partner(s) unless they have an actual plan.

Chloe (crewmate) - gathers every single person in medbay and makes sure they all watch her scan. Yeah okay, we get, you’re a crewmate. She feels personally offended whenever someone kills her, which is often, since people tend to jokingly target her. During discussions, she accuses anyone and everyone of being sus, even if she just walked past them or saw them tasking alone. She likes stalking people as a ghost and spilling tea in ghost chat.

Chloe (impostor) - reacts similarly to Marinette when she kills. She will throw her partner(s) under the bus if it’s more advantageous in the long run, and she’s great at shifting the blame to innocents. People vote her out a lot anyways, and she says she can’t believe that they even like this stupid little game. Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Unless she wins. Then it’s fun.

Sabrina (crewmate) - discussion detective supreme. She keeps track of every piece of evidence and testimony, every detail. She tails the sus at a distance, trying to catch them doing something. Sometimes it gets her targeted, but sometimes she catches them and calls emergency meetings to snitch. Somehow she manages to do this and finish her tasks at the same time.

Sabrina (impostor) - sabotages everything, and tries to get her partner(s) to do it too. Once she won because the crew just didn’t fix O2 in time. She avoids killing Chloe, but feels bad if she has to kill anyone else too. She typically just sticks to making other people seem suspicious, and likes the game mode where you can’t see if you voted correctly or not.

Lila (both) - she rarely joins these games. She isn’t even a member of the chat group they use. They occasionally invite her, and she usually lies about how busy she is, but she accepted a couple times to further her narrative. She pretends to be really bad at being an impostor to establish herself as someone incapable of trickery. Regardless of her role, whenever the body announcement pops up, she goes, “oh nooo, not [victim(s)]... nooo....” and Mari’s like stfu Lila.

Bonus Polaroid kids because,,, they <3

Kagami (crewmate) - hella efficient at tasks. Two discussions in and she’s done. She’s the interrogation specialist who stresses out the imps and crew alike with her barrage of questions. She likes moving either alone or in partners, three people maximum, unless Crewinette needs her, in which case she’ll stick to the plan no matter what.

Kagami (impostor) - you’re walking through the base / there’s no one around and comms are down / out of the corner of your eye you spot her / Kagami Tsurugi. She will have you cornered and you won’t be able to do anything about it. She always has a made up explanation for what she was doing, but sometimes it falls through solely because she’s always acting sus.

Luka (crewmate) - he likes crewmate a lot more than impostor. He’ll tag along with a task group until he’s done, and then he’ll go lurk in the corner and spy on people. He moves along the walls, and a few times this has led to him witnessing murders in the middle of the room while the imp only saw him after it was too late. Cue the mad dash for emergency meeting.

Luka (impostor) - works together with his partner(s) to perform some high level backstabbery. He rarely gets voted out unless he messes up because he builds bonds of trust with like half of the crew while he leads the rest into his partner(s)’ traps. He feels bad about killing sometimes, but he doesn’t mind sabotaging.

Zoe (crewmate) - she finds one or two other people she trusts and follows them around. She uses the logic of “well we could’ve both killed each other by now but we didn’t so they must be safe”. She immediately recounts everything that happened to her that round in discussions, even irrelevant details, just in case they might end up useful, and tends to bandwagon with voting.

Zoe (impostor) - tries to catch people in secluded corners or rooms with closable doors to kill them. She avoids taking risks, but sometimes she reports her own bodies and tries to act all surprised by the discovery. She’s a good actress, but she’s not the best bs artist, although the crew is used to her giving a ton of details right from the start, so they don’t suspect her unless there’s a hole in her story.

Marc (crewmate) - does tasks on his own but makes sure to stop near crowds when he can. Whenever he’s running around alone and sees someone else, he immediately turns around like ohmygodohmygod and anxiously dances around the other person who’s more than likely just another, equally anxious crewmate with places to be. He still gets killed a lot.

Marc (impostor) - he goes full anime villain mode. All according to keikaku. He’s one of those people who disproportionately rolls the impostor role and ends up with it like twice every five games. He plans out every move he’s gonna make, every complex lie and big brain play, and sometimes he gets that glorious evil win, but sometimes his plans are totally sabotaged by stupid things like Kim’s trolling.

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there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

Text

Derailed (Director’s Cut)

Elle Greenaway x Spencer Reid

Word Count: ~1520

Warnings: Discussion of Spencer’s sex life, or lack thereof. Discussion of virginity as a social construct. Some suggestive dialogue, some snarky banter, and some sweetness to wash it down. It’s sexy, but also totally platonic, and it fades to black before anything actually happens.

A/N: You cannot convince me that this isn’t how Spencer lost his v-card.

For the “deleted scene” square on my @cmbingo card, written script-style and all. Picks up right where Derailed left off.

(I almost named this Railed. Then I almost named it Deflowered. So many tempting puns.)

[Around dusk. Hotch is driving an SUV. Morgan is in front, Elle and Spencer in back.]

Hotch: Elle, your interview has been rescheduled for tomorrow�� and this time I’m driving you.

Elle: I can live with that.

Hotch: Local PD asked Gideon to consult on a case, and they wanted advice on media strategy, so he took JJ. The rest of us aren’t needed, so I got us checked into a motel.

Morgan: Lemme get this straight. We have an actual night off… and we’re spending it in B.F.E., West Texas?

Elle: They have bars in West Texas, right?

Spencer: We just passed one.

Elle: Then you won’t see me complaining. Drinks? Reid?

Spencer: Are you buying?

Elle: Hell yes I am. C’mon, Morgan, you gonna come celebrate the fact that I didn’t die today?

Morgan: When you put it that way, I don’t have much of a choice, do I? [They pull up in front of the motel and start piling out of the car.] Showers first, though.

Elle: We can head out in like an hour. How about you, boss?

Hotch: While I’m very glad nobody died, I am not passing up the opportunity to sleep for more than four consecutive hours. I don’t care what you do as long as I don’t get a call in the middle of the night.

—

[Inside a bar. Spencer and Elle are sitting at a high top, with a collection of empty glasses in front of them. Both of them are tipsy, not totally drunk but sort of giggly and loose-limbed. Spencer is using a penny to show Elle how he hid the microchip earlier. Nearby, the bartender is handing Morgan three fresh drinks, but he’s distracted, talking to a pretty woman, as he takes them.]

[Morgan brings their drinks over to the table and sets two of them down.]

Morgan: So —

Elle: We lost you, huh? [To Spencer] Told you so.

Morgan: How ‘bout you, pretty boy? She’s got friends.

Elle: Oh, come on, you really gonna make me drink alone?

Spencer: Yeah, no thanks.

Morgan: Suit yourself. Don’t wait up.

[Elle rolls her eyes as he walks away. Then she turns back to Spencer, who’s playing with the penny again.]

Elle: You know I’m joking, right? I’m almost ready to head back to the motel, anyway. You should go have some fun.

Spencer: I’m about ready to call it a night too. And honestly, that doesn’t really seem like fun for me.

[Elle watches him for a second, thinking.]

Elle: The flirting? Or the flirting with girls?

Spencer: Hmm?

Elle: I shouldn’t have assumed, sorry… are you even interested in women?”

Spencer: Theoretically, yes? But more to the point, women are rarely interested in me. I’m not… like that. [He gestures at Morgan, who’s showing his new friend how to hold a pool cue, saying something in her ear as she giggles.]

Elle: It’s about confidence, Doc. Gotta be a little cocky. Not too cocky, but —

Spencer: I don’t know how to be cocky.

Elle: Like hell you don’t. Remember earlier? When I said you probably saved my life, and —

Spencer: — I said I totally saved your life. I remember.

Elle: That. Cocky. It works for you.

Spencer: I did save your life, though. That’s a statement of fact, objectively speaking. Of course I’m confident when it comes to stating a fact.

[Spencer flips the penny between his fingers a few times, then makes it disappear and pulls it out from behind her ear.]

Elle: There’s something to get cocky about. You’re good with your hands, doctor.

[Spencer gets flustered and drops the penny, laughing at himself.]

Spencer: That’s different.

Elle: How so?

Spencer: I’m not going to take a girl home and show her my magic tricks, for starters. [He finishes his drink hurriedly.] Are you ready to go? I’m ready to go.

Elle: You’re not getting out of this that easily.

[They both slide off their stools and pull on jackets. Elle looks around for Morgan, but he’s way too focused on the girl to notice them. Spencer makes a face. They head for the door and start walking down the block.]

Elle: Look, objectively speaking? You’ve got cheekbones that could cut glass and you’re a goddamn genius. You know more than me about… well, almost everything, and as annoying as that can be — [She rolls her eyes and sighs, annoyed by her own sincerity.] — it’s impressive. Not to get all schmoopy about it, but… you’re pretty awesome, Doc.

Spencer: I know I’m awesome. This isn’t about my self-esteem.

Elle: So what’s the problem?

Spencer: A random girl in a bar isn’t interested in my IQ. And anyway, it’s not… I know how to talk to girls. But I’m not about to take one home.

Elle: Why not?

[Spencer sighs heavily, looking exasperated.]

Spencer: You want to know why I’m confident in my ability to make pennies disappear?

Elle: I mean… not really, but I’m guessing you have a point.

Spencer: It’s because I’ve been practicing my whole life. I’ve mastered the skill because I’ve had years to do so.

[Realization slowly dawns on Elle’s face.]

Elle: You’re a virgin, aren’t you?

Spencer: Virginity is a social construct based on inherently patriarchal values of purity and the commodification of the female body. [Elle looks sideways at him, raising an eyebrow.] Yes, I’m a virgin.

Elle: So, is it about romance? You want the first time to be special? [Spencer shrugs.] Hate to break it to you, but most first times are funny at best. The sooner you get it out of the way, the sooner it can be an embarrassing story for Morgan to laugh at.

Spencer: Yeah. Great. That’s exactly what I want.

Elle: No, really, what are you hung up on? [They’ve arrived back at the motel. Elle starts opening her door, but pauses.] You want to come in for a minute? Finish this conversation over another drink?

[Spencer shrugs and follows her inside. She starts pouring drinks from the minibar while he continues.]

Spencer: I guess part of the problem is the… learning curve. If I get to that point with someone I already have feelings for, that’s a lot of pressure, you know? But it would feel disingenuous to just pick up a random girl at a bar.

[Elle hands him a glass and they sit down.]

Elle: Disingenuous?

Spencer: False advertising. [He gives her a self-deprecating frog face.] That doesn’t seem fair to her.

Elle: You’re telling me you don’t want to pick up a girl in a bar because you’re a perfectionist?

Spencer: Well… yeah, I guess that’s one way to put it. I don’t like being bad at things!

[Elle laughs and then stares at her glass for a moment, rolling it between her hands thoughtfully.]

Elle: Which means you need someone who knows what to expect. Someone who’s okay with… the learning curve.

Spencer: I mean, I know the theory, but —

Elle: That’s something you can’t really learn from a book.

Spencer: Unfortunately. I need some practical experience.

Elle: You need someone you trust. [Spencer nods.] Somebody you’re comfortable with, but not so emotionally involved with that you feel like you need to impress them.

Spencer: I guess. Yeah.

[Elle raises her eyebrows and waits for him to get it. It takes a minute. His first instinct is to laugh, then he realizes she’s serious.]

Spencer: Really?

Elle: Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.

Spencer: But… why?

Elle: You saved my life. Seems like the least I can do. I owe you one.

Spencer: I didn’t do that because I expected something in return! You’re my teammate, and my friend, and —

Elle: Because you know more than me about almost everything else in the world, and for once I’d like to be the one showing off.

Spencer: That’s not —

Elle: Haven’t you been listening? You’ve got cheekbones that could cut glass, and — objectively speaking — you’re pretty awesome. Besides, you’re my friend, and — [She hesitates, looking down at her glass, and the next part sounds almost painfully honest.] — my first time wasn’t great. It wasn’t with someone I trusted. And I guess if I can make sure it’s not like that for somebody else…

Spencer: Oh. [He smiles slightly, looking touched.] You really mean it?

[Elle rolls her eyes.]

Elle: One night only, no strings attached, and if you ever mention it to anyone on the team I will kill you in your sleep, but yeah. I mean it.

Spencer: Not a word.

[Elle drains her glass and straddles him matter-of-factly. He looks very overwhelmed.]

Spencer: Did you know —

[Elle puts a finger to his lips and shakes her head. He closes his mouth immediately, and she gives him an approving nod, teasing but also genuinely fond.]

Elle: You’re a fast learner, aren’t you? As long as you can follow directions and keep the statistics to yourself, I think we’re going to have some fun tonight. Now, shut up and kiss me.

[Spencer smiles. Cut to black.]

Smutty follow-up is now HERE!

If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message! Feel free to send me an ask if you want to be tagged in future Criminal Minds fic.

#cmbingo21 #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #elle greenaway #reidaway

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mostly-marvel-musings · 3 years

Text

We were on a break - Chapter 4

A/N: I had plans on expanding this chapter but decided against it. The series may be longer lol.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: Strong language, angst, injuries.

Word count: 1198

Series Masterlist

Series Taglist – @shipatheart @tone-stark @thevanishedillusion @kaestatic @lieswithoutfairytales @booktease21 @panicattheeverywherekid @taina-eny @infirebaby @buttercandy16

Tony Stark Taglist - @raspberrymama @ladyeliot @boop-le-snoot @make-a-memory-drink-it-up @loveisallyouneed1125 @ownsmyheart @anthonyjanthony666 @downeyreads

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @little-baby-vixen @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @marvelgirl7 @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf

Tags are open! If you wish to be tagged in future chapters, OR removed from any of the lists, send me an ask.

…

“Do we have an audio on the Presidential Suite yet?”

You were pacing around your hotel suite, while Clint and Ward tried to get an audio-visual on Andrew Leeds’ suite that was located less than 500 metres away from where you were living in Four Seasons. His room was bugged by the team on the same night you arrived in Seychelles. Miniature voice recorders disguised as extra room cards were set up, apart from that you needed a visual on people in Leeds’ close circles to effectively take out and/or take into custody.

“We will. Patience (Y/L/N).” Clint answered, glancing at you while his fingers flew over the computer.

“I still think we should go old school.” Grant stood up and joined you, placing his hands on your shoulder to halt your marching.

“Leeds isn’t stupid Ward.”

“As a matter of fact he is. Trust me I know him, he’s never once missed an opportunity to get into the pants of beautiful women when he’s on holiday.” He seemed shifty-eyed over what he’d just said.

“What do you mean you know him?”

“I meant I know his type. Hydra’s after his money and he is nothing but a walking wallet. Killing his men won’t get you the information we need that charming him with your personality will. Hydra won’t waste any time in discarding the man after they’re done and we’ll be left with nothing.” Ward stated matter-of-factly, his expression hiding his true intentions but for some reason you decided to trust the man. He was a senior and had much more experience than you did plus it was your first time leading a mission.

“Are we going with the birthday protocol then?” Clint chimed in, leaving you frowning between the two men.

“We sure are.”

“What birthday protocol? Excuse me what have you been planning without keeping me in the loop?” you were mildly irritated at this point.

“Nothing. Get some rest (Y/L/N). Big day tomorrow.”

“Wake up birthday girl.”

You mumbled ‘go away’ before turning away from the source of noise and pulling the blankets over your head in attempts to go back to sleep. Unfortunately Tony was having none of it, the sheets were off your body in one swift motion exposing your half naked body to the cold air of the room before Tony climbed on top of you, poking you till you whined and opened your eyes.

“There she is. What would the birthday girl like to do today?”

Tony wasn’t usually this chipper so early in the morning, hell he was never in bed with you on most days so seeing him in this jovial mood was heart-warming, though you wished he’d wake you up a little later.

“I’d like to sleep please.” You stated with a pout that didn’t last long as Tony kissed that pout lovingly.

“Okay we can sleep but not before I give you your present.” With that he began littering your face with kisses while his hands tickled your sides making your squirm and giggle, there was no escaping as he had you pinned underneath him. You grabbed his wrist as he reached your panties, very aware of what that ‘present’ was.

“Last time I checked it was my birthday Tony.”

Now it was his turn to pout while you shook your head at his antics.

“But it’s not every day you have Iron Man going down on you.”

You hit his face with a pillow before rolling him off the bed, laughing as you ran to the bathroom, leaving a shocked looking Tony on your bedroom floor.

Your eyes opened to the sounds of seagulls in the distance along with waves crashing against the rocky beach that was visible from your hotel window. A sight you could watch for hours, you could if you wanted to, it was your birthday after all and you were free to do whatever the hell you wanted.

Your phone kept buzzing with texts from people you knew, a few missed calls from your friends and family who’d called at midnight but you hadn’t picked up, having gone to bed early and on purpose to avoid exactly that. You read the texts one by one while treating yourself to a nice soothing bath, the one from Barton and Grant Ward intriguing.

Morning birthday girl! See you downstairs for breakfast. Wear something fancy!

Sun shone brightly, the air humid and balmy as you entered the lobby looking for your friends. The woman at the front desk informed you that there was a reservation under your name at the cabanas lining the beach just out front.

Noisy waves crashed against the rocky beach mercilessly, foaming before returning back to the ocean quietly, the warm breeze flapping your dress behind you, the fabric clung to your skin as you strolled towards a noisy group you could only assume were your friends.

“There she is!”

In seconds you were surrounded with people gathering you in bone-crushing hugs, shouting birthday wishes and pushing you towards the table laid out with delectable looking food and mimosas and quite a rustic looking birthday cake. It took you a couple of minutes to recognize Nat in her undercover avatar, surprised that she’d actually flown here to celebrate with you.

“You really didn’t have to do this guys. Thank you so much!” grinning from ear to ear, you looked around at their happy faces, grateful to be able to call them your friends, family even.

“As expected (Y/L/N), our bugs were found and promptly destroyed last night.” Ward stated, a smug look on his face.

“Okay no mission stuff right now. It’s her birthday.”

“Go on then, cut the cake. We’re starving!” Clint exclaimed, giving you a little shove towards the table after handing you a knife while Natasha placed a tiara made with twigs and small flowers on your head.

“Did you make this cake Barton? Is it safe to eat?” you joked, before cutting a small piece and offering it to him. Clint glanced at Natasha for a brief moment before taking a bite and grimacing. Natasha laughed nervously before feeding you a piece, an overpowering taste of vanilla filled your mouth making you pull a face. This couldn’t have been store-bought, someone made this cake for you. For a second your mind flitted towards Tony, his attempts to make you breakfast in bed that had led to you throwing up after eating his pancakes and a storm-swept kitchen.

Everyone busied themselves with food, leaving your enquiry unanswered and soon you dropped it, realising you were famished.

Back at your suite, a rather expensive bottle of Dom Perignon was sent with a personalised note card from Andrew Leeds who had his eyes on you from an adjacent cabana next to the infinity pool. The bottle received by a bewildered Tony Stark who was pacing around your room, awaiting your return and praying you had found his handmade cake somewhat palatable.

#tony stark series #we were on a break #tony stark x reader #tony stark fanfiction #iron man series #iron man fanfic #tony stark angst

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inthebentley · 3 years

Text

It’s a Tradition

A gift for @tlakhtwritesdestiel for the @destielsecretsanta2020 exchange

Title: It’s a Tradition Pairing/Characters: Dean/Castiel, Jack, Sam Rating: T Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Fluff, Christmas, Traditions, First Kiss, Mistletoe Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Team Free Will scrambles to put together a Christmas celebration for Jack, and Cas finds one tradition he'd like to try with Dean.

[ao3]

"We're gonna try and hit as many Christmas traditions as we can," Dean said. "I know Jack's expectations are high, but Christmas is tomorrow so we don't have much time." He grabbed a shopping cart and led Cas through the automatic doors.

"What traditions?" Cas asked, and he yawned. Understandable since Dean had dragged him out of the bunker at six that morning. "I thought you and Sam avoided celebrating Christmas."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I don't know how to do it." He wheeled the squeaky cart toward a sign that said "Decorations". "First thing is trimming the tree. Sam is taking Jack to pick one out later, but we're gonna need ornaments."

The selection was pretty dismal. Dean probably should have expected that since it was Christmas Eve and most people had put their decorations up weeks ago.

Cas held up a dented box full of sparkly neon ball ornaments. "These look festive."

That was one word for it, Dean thought. But there weren't any better options so he took the box and dropped it into the cart. He also grabbed a few strands of lights in assorted colors while Cas spent a suspiciously long time looking at the bows on the other side of the aisle.

Dean crossed "tree" off his mental list.

"I would've said wrapping paper is next, but Sam helped him wrap gifts yesterday apparently." Dean, Sam, and Cas had all agreed that they would only exchange presents with Jack this year. Dean had gotten him a collection of Scooby-Doo on DVD that was packaged in a cardboard replica of the Mystery Machine and could double as a decoration in his bedroom. Truth be told, Dean nearly bought another one for himself. "We should see if they have any gingerbread house kits left."

"What are we going to put on the top of the tree?" Cas asked.

Dean turned to find him staring at the last angel and three star toppers left on the shelf. "Well, since I guess it would have to be an awfully big tree to get you up there without breaking limbs-" Cas glared at him "- grab the gold star. Now c'mon, we're gonna hit the baking aisles. Hopefully those are better stocked."

They weren't.

Dean found a gingerbread house kit wedged behind a few boxes of cake mix, and though it was a little dented it was better than nothing.

Cas took the box back out of the cart after Dean added it. "This looks very messy to eat after it's built and decorated."

"That's why we're not gonna eat it," Dean said. "That and the fact that it probably tastes like plastic. It's just for decoration. Besides, the next thing on our list is cookies and those are gonna taste awesome."

Dean continued to shop for another twenty minutes while Cas followed him around like a lost duckling. Only when he was satisfied that he had everything he would need for a decent Christmas dinner did he finally head for the check-out.

As they waited in line, Dean watched Cas browse the candy that lined the check-out lane.

He picked out a king sized bar that boasted "Now with even more nougat!" and put it into the cart.

"That one is Jack's favorite," he said.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I know, but between that and the cookies I'm gonna let you deal with the sugar high tomorrow."

Cas had been acting suspiciously ever since they got home from the store. Dean couldn't pin it down, but figured he'd get to the bottom of it later. Right now it was all about giving Jack the best Christmas he knew how.

They all sat beneath the haphazardly decorated tree as midnight approached. Sam had the great idea to string popcorn and Jack had loved that most of all. He was still making another strand as Sam read The Night Before Christmas off his phone screen.

Dean grabbed another sugar cookie from the plate between him and Cas. It kind of looked like a reindeer, if reindeer were purple with yellow stripes. Delicious, though.

"Is it time for presents, now?" Jack asked when the story was finished.

"Sure, kid." Dean pointed to his gift under the tree. "Open mine first."

Sam gave him the stink eye, probably because he knew Dean's gift would steal the show.

Jack tore into the wrapping paper with glee. "Scooby-Doo! This is so cool, thank you Dean." And he scooted forward on the ground to wrap Dean in a hug.

"Oh," Dean said, patting Jack's back a little awkwardly. "That's… that's good, I'm glad you like it."

When Jack pulled away to investigate his remaining gifts, Dean caught Cas smiling at him.

"What?" he asked, feeling a little defensive.

Cas' eyes crinkled at the corners. "You're a good dad, Dean," he said quietly as Jack started to rip up more paper.

Dean flushed.

"Oh wow!" Jack said, holding up a thick leather-bound journal and the king-sized candy bar from the store. "These are great!" He already had half the candy bar in his mouth when he went to give Cas the same thank-you treatment.

Dean didn't realize he was smiling until Cas caught his eye. Huh, he thought. "You're not so bad yourself."

They watched their kid open his final present.

Dean groaned. "A laptop, Sammy? Really?"

Sam just gave him a shit-eating grin over Jack's shoulder.

An hour later Jack was off to bed and his laptop was confiscated until Dean could set up some parental controls on the damn thing.

Cas lingered as Dean picked up the last of the wrapping paper from the floor. He leaned against the door frame casually, which wasn't casual at all. Dean glanced at him suspiciously and that's when something caught his eye. He stepped closer to see what it was.

"Cas, did you shoplift a piece of mistletoe?" Dean asked, not sure how to react to the strange situation he had found himself in.

Cas narrowed his eyes. "Did you buy the other supplies with a fraudulent credit card?"

"Point. But, uh… why?"

"It's a tradition," Cas said. He stepped closer to Dean. "One that I wanted to experience for myself."

His eyes never left Dean's, but Dean couldn't help the way he dropped his gaze to Cas' lips.

"Oh," Dean said. He looked up at the mistletoe above his head. "Might be bad luck to break tradition," he said, only half-joking.

"Then you'll kiss me?" Cas asked, his voice a low rumble.

Oh, Dean wanted to. He wanted to more than anything.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea." Dean hated the words that left his mouth when they caused Cas to fall back half a step. "This," he pointed at the mistletoe, "is convenient. An excuse. But it'll be gone after tomorrow."

Cas furrowed his brow. "I thought you would be glad of that."

"No, Cas." Dean reached out to touch his jaw lightly, just with his fingertips. "If I kiss you now, I'll need to do it every day for the rest of my life."

Cas' eyes widened and he surged forward to crash their mouths together.

At first it was too desperate to be a proper kiss, all teeth and bumped noses. But Dean slowed them down with one hand pushed into Cas' hair and the other rubbing gently between his shoulder blades until Cas' lips softened into something less fierce. When his hands unclenched from Dean's shirt to settle on his waist, Dean pulled back just a little and pressed their foreheads together.

"What do you say we continue this conversation somewhere a little more private and mistletoe-free?" he asked with a grin.

"It's actually holly, you know," Cas said, "so in theory we are not beholden to the tradition if we continue to stand beneath it."

Dean rolled his eyes, but nevertheless leaned in for another kiss.

#destielsecretsanta2020 #tlakhwritesdestiel #destiel #deancas #spn fic #bri writes fic

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your-eternal-muse · 4 years

Text

To hold on, To let go.

Heather Bonus Chapter.

Summery: In which you get to sneak a peek into the life of Dr. Spencer Reid, and one Aaron Hotchner.

Words: 1.7k because I have absolutely no self control

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, light swearing, and the fruition of an opinion of mine that is kinda controversial in the fandom, but I said what I said, and I ain’t backing down from it

A/N: Hi. So, I thought I would have both this chapter and chapter 9 ready to go to post at relatively the same time, but I was up for 18 hours straight and crashed before I could. I woke up because I was hungry and decided to finish this. That being said, hopefully, I can get chapter 9 up for you guys at some point tomorrow. I’ve just been really tired is all, but I’ll push through because I love this series so much. Anyway, enjoy! Oh, also, I didn’t name this one after a lyric because it didn’t really fit, but its a bonus so its fine.

~~~~~

45% of marriages end in divorce.

Spencer knew this.

He knew the odds of his marriage to Heather ending badly.

He just didn’t think it would be this soon.

He had expected it to be years down the road, when his hair was turning gray and his time at the B.A.U was in the past.

He hadn’t expected it to fail in mere months.

He expected it to be because of his job, or the fact that no matter how hard Heather tried, she never could quite get him to open up about the demons residing in his head.

Not because she had been cheating on him.

He felt like an idiot.

The signs were all there.

The sudden disappearances, the nervous tics whenever he asked a question she could never quite answer.

What kind of profiler was he if he couldn’t even tell that his wife was cheating on him?

He sat at his desk, alone in the bullpen, the only noise in the room coming from the video playing on his phone before him.

He couldn’t stop playing it, even though it killed him to watch.

He paused and played back the very beginning over and over again, watching her kiss that man in a way he thought was only meant for him.

He felt sick.

Knowing her lips had been on that man's hours before coming home and kissing him.

Knowing they had sex, and than having her come home and beg to be fucked by him.

He started the video again, watching Heather, the way her hands balled into his shirt, the sound of her laugh at the person behind her.

Then, his eyes start to drift.

He starts it again, this time watching the anger radiate off of y/n.

It was almost palpable.

He couldn’t help the warmth swarm his chest, circling his heart before squeezing tightly.

She was fiery.

The way the words came from her chest, how her shoulders were straight and her chin was raised, filled his stomach with a sense of pride.

When she said she loved him, she meant it.

“I found your letter. I was right about you.”

His eyes shift to the card currently laying on top of the stack of divorce papers laying on his desk.

He knows he should have hidden it better.

Stuffed it in a thick book and placed it on a high shelf, somewhere she never would have thought to look.

He shouldn’t have even kept it.

With his memory, he could read it over and over again in his head, and Heather would be none the wiser.

But there was something about tracing his fingertips over the ink, feeling the indents of her words in the paper.

It was physical evidence, that after all these years of thinking she didn’t feel the same, that he was wrong.

She loves him, as he loves her.

Yes, loves.

Not loved.

Spencer Reid, is in love with y/n y/l/n.

However, he can’t say he doesn’t love Heather.

He had convinced himself that y/n hadn’t felt the same, and had all but given up hope. So when a pretty girl offered her number to him one morning at a coffee shop, he accepted, forcing himself to move on.

And for a while, he believed that he was happy.

But it doesn’t work like that.

There were too many sleepless nights, too many words unsaid that kept him from fully committing to Heather, even if on paper it looked like he worshiped the ground she walked on.

He shouldn’t have proposed.

He had hoped y/n would say something, call him a fool, be selfish and kiss him in the middle of the banquet hall, not caring about what other people thought because it was only them existing at that moment in time.

But she didn’t.

So he did.

It was selfish of him.

To want another girl, while one who had claimed to love him hung on his arm.

He shouldn’t have danced with her.

He should have just smiled and thanked her for coming, ignoring the pain registering in her eyes.

She was intoxicating though.

And even though it was his wedding, he needed to let her know.

Let her know that he loved her, and that even if he didn’t have a choice, he would always choose her.

He would go and catch her without a thought's hesitation.

Last week, he found out she understood.

God, this is a mess.

He rubs his face, resting his chin on his hand as he reads through the papers again. Should he sign them? Should he give themselves another chance? Or should he say fuck it? Heather had her chance, and in the process broke him. He didn’t think it was worth it.

A door above him opens.

“Reid, can I speak with you?”

It wasn’t weird for Hotch to stay late.

It was for Spencer.

But he didn’t want to go home, where Heather would be inevitably waiting to try and plead with him to not go through it, where another fight is waiting to be fought, and going to the one place he truly wanted to, felt wrong.

It would put y/n in a position he never wants to put her.

So he stayed, and rewatched the video, and reread the papers, until he felt his eyes droop, and his heart rate slow.

Hotch had spent the last few nights watching him.

He could relate to how Spencer was probably feeling, and he wasn’t about to stand back and watch like he did y/n. He was going to help before it got to the extreme.

So Spencer set down the papers, put his phone in his pocket and walked up to meet Hotch in his office.

When he enters, Hotch motions for him to take a seat.

Spencer sits, curious and kind of anxious about the conversation that was about to be had.

“I just wanted to let you know, that I know what you’re going through. And that I sympathize with what you’re feeling. If you need to take any personal time, any at all, you can.”

The next statement pops out of Spencer's mouth before he can even think.

“You didn’t.”

Hotch doesn’t even blink, not the least bit fazed by the observation.

“I should have. And I wish I did.”

He takes a breath.

“I loved Haley. A part of me still does, and will always love her, even now. But I want you to know that I sympathize with how you feel on more than just the divorce.”

Spencer furrows his brow.

What?

Hotch had wanted to keep this from the team for a very personal reason.

He didn’t want anyone judging him for continuing to love her, even after she hurt him.

He didn’t want them to hate her after her passing.

He didn’t want Jack to grow up to despise his mother.

“I didn’t realize it at first. I’m sure my line of work didn’t help much. I was gone often, and for long periods of time, during which I have no clue what she did.”

Spencer couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Haley cheated on Hotch?

“But when I was home, she was distant. I again blamed it on the rift my job created, which I think is what drove her to do it in the first place.”

Hotch has never really talked about it out loud before now.

Was it bad, that he felt a little relieved, to finally get it out into the air?

“How did you find out?” Spencer's voice was soft, quite. He was afraid that if he spoke too loud, Hotch would back down, stop telling the story.

Hotch takes another deep breath, bringing forth the painful memory.

“It was a rare night where I was home. We had been arguing over an offer I had gotten here. It would have given me a 9-5 schedule, allowed me to be home for dinner and on the weekends, a shorter commute. She wanted me to take it, said it was a no brainer. I told her it was more complicated than that.”

Spencer is leaning forward onto his knees, hanging on to every word.

“We were talking about it, when our landline rang. When I picked it up, no one answered, so I hung up. Not ten seconds after, her cell phone started ringing.”

Why hadn’t Hotch told anyone?

Spencer was beginning to realize they had more in common than he thought.

“But what solidified it for me, was the fear in her eyes. She was petrified. I stared at her as her phone rang, and while she didn’t make a move to grab it, she crossed her arms, subconsciously telling me not to ask.”

He rubs his nose, and looks down at the files on his desk. “I did a little more research after that and found that I was correct.”

He folds his hands in front of him, the words becoming harder to say as he continues.

“What I’m trying to say, is that even when I loved her, even when I wanted it to work out, it didn’t.”

He was hoping Spencer would understand what he was implying. Hotch knew he was smart. It was getting to do something for himself that was the hard part.

Spencer’s head felt clear for the first time that week.

It had helped, hearing Hotch's own experience.

Hotch fought because he loved Haley, and he wanted to hang on to that as long as he could.

Spencer couldn’t wait to let go. That was the difference between the similarities.

Spencer nods, moving to stand up, his mind picking up speed as he did.

“If you ever need to talk about anything, and I mean anything, Spencer, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

A small smile graces Spencer’s lips. “I won’t.” He walks towards the door before pausing, and turning back around. “And Hotch,”

Hotch looks up from his paperwork.

“Thank you.”

Hotch smiles, soft and rare. “You’re welcome.”

Spencer makes his way back to his desk, sitting down, picking up the papers once again, digging a pen out of his satchel.

He flips through the papers, finding where x marks the spot.

He signs his name.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid series #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female!reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds series #cm #mathew gray gubler #song fic #heather #conan gray

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kiwikyuu · 3 years

Text

━━━━━━━━ all the different shades of orange ; hinata shōyō

summary — whoever said that hinata shōyō is a ball of sunshine is a liar

word count — 3k

genre — imagine ; kinda enemies to lover, fluff

warning(s) — major spoilers about spring interhigh for those of you who haven't read the manga, insults thrown around, kinda out of character hinata, cursing, not edited

a/n — okay but have y'all seen e2l hinata shōyō besides kagehina lmao because i haven't and thought it'd be interesting to try out. also wow i have never put so much effort into a work like this one (hopefully it reaches a lot of people and you can all find some joy in reading!)

❝ WATCH WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING GOING NEXT TIME, YOU ROTTEN BELL PEPPER. ❞

Hate was a strong word but the flaring anger in your heart and overwhelming urge to run into a wall whenever your eyes landed on that tangerine said otherwise. It wasn't that you went out of your way to dislike someone that has everyone wrapped around their finger. It just so happened that you had no tolerance for bullshit, and Hinata Shōyō pissed you off in every way possible.

It started on the first day of high school.

Walking beside Minari, a friend from middle school, the two of you were eager to leave the building. The idea of grabbing steamed buns had unraveled itself in your mind, and what better way to enjoy food than by sharing?

"Are you going to try out for any clubs?" Your elbow bumped against hers as you two walked the slowly emptying hallway. "I think I saw the girls soccer team holding tryouts soon."

Minari shrugged, but you could already see the thoughts pinging in her mind. "I might if I can."

See, the two of you had almost reached the staircase when it happened. Minari's long hair covered her view from time to time, so you were used to looking out for her while chastising the girl about the usefulness of a hairband. But what you didn't expect as you pulled the girl aside just as a gaggle of guys rushed by was the full strength of a short orange-haired boy catching you off guard and nearly sending you tumbling down the flight of stairs.

"I'm sorry! I - I didn't see you there!" He shouted, his hand coming out to latch instinctively onto your school uniform before you could be thrown back far. "And on the first day too... I'm so sorry! Please accept my apology."

You stared at the short boy standing before you looking positively green with anxiety and guilt. Minari was already calming him down with mentions of accepting his apology, but all you could focus on was the pounding beat of your heart and the tingling feeling in your legs from your near-fatal experience.

"Watch where you're fucking going next time, you rotten bell pepper," you muttered before pushing his fingers off your now wrinkled white shirt.

You had walked away first, Minari in tow, but not before catching the shine of his name tag, 'Hinata Shōyō,' and the wide-eyed stare on his face that sent shivers down your back.

From that day forward, every flash of orange around the school seemed to be followed by a glare on your end and a roll of eyes on his.

"You're in the way, pumpkin head." Your words cut through the chattering hallway and sliced at Hinata who in turn threw you a pointed look, something that all the First Year students knew by now was reserved for only you. "I'm trying to get to the library, but somebody's walking too slow. Aren't you supposed to be on the volleyball team?"

Hinata scoffed, but stepped aside to let you through. Dirty looks were all he had in his armory apparently as time after time after sending an insult or two his way, he held his tongue. You liked to think it was because he didn't have the proper brain cells to form a response, but sometimes you wondered if you were being too much.

Up ahead, Minari waved at you to hurry before all the seats at the library were taken. Shaking yourself of your thoughts, you walked over to her. Unbeknownst to you, while you shouldered your bag, your wallet tipped over and fell out at a certain somebody's feet.

Hinata picked up your ratty wallet, noticing it on the floor, and went to call out to you before catching himself. What did he care? Still, unable to ignore it, he pocketed your belonging making note to give it back to you later. Right now, he had a game to worry about.

Somehow you had ended up at the Karasuno vs. Aoba Johsai game during the Interhigh Preliminaries. Minari had dragged you up to the stands as discreetly as possible after convincing you that she wasn't feeling up to study. Considering she had her eyes set on a certain 5'10 blueberry, you were foolish enough to think that she'd wanted to take you some place fun.

Now as the two of you stared down at the game happening eagerly, you let out a sigh upon noticing Hinata. As if your day couldn't have gotten worse after misplacing your wallet, you were displeased to find that he was looking right back up at you with the same wide-eyed stare he had when you two had first met.

Shivers ran down your back almost as if on cue, and you tore your gaze away from him fully ready to leave the gymnasium and trudge back home. But had you turned away, you would have missed the freakish oddball combination execute their quick attack.

"Holy shit," you breathed. "What the fuck was that?"

Minari smirked. "Tobio-kun is a great setter, isn't he? Or were you too focused on Mr. Bell Pepper to notice."

You shot her a frosty look, pushing down the stuttering emotion starting to rise in your chest that most definitely did not feel like anger. "As if."

The game continued for what seemed like days but turned out to be hours at most ending at a score of 1:2 in Aoba Johsai's favor.

Deafening silence overtook your ears. Minari was quick to leave the stands, mumbling something about consoling the fallen setter while your eyes searched for some semblance of sunshine in Hinata's sullen ones.

Spotting his sunken expression, you felt yourself regret the hatred that had sparked for him for just a moment. A fleeting moment that buried itself in your heart, planting a seedling of growing doubt.

"Minari, we have to catch the bus back!" You called out to your friend as you joined her on the gymnasium floor.

She glanced your way, halting the conversation she had began with her Tobio-kun. "Two minutes, and then we can go. Please?"

You nodded despite feeling discomfort crawling up your spine at being surrounded now by those you didn't know. You settled by the door, checking your phone mindlessly to pass the short time only looking up when an outstretched hand came into view.

"You dropped this earlier." Hinata's words were short, sharp, and you were suddenly glad you had never been on the end of his scathing remarks. "On your way to the library," he continued.

"Oh," was all your malfunctioning mind could come up with as he took your open hand in his, placing your wallet gently in your palm. The warmth of his skin seemed pressed into your own even after he had started to stalk away.

Clearing your throat, you spoke before you could stop yourself. "You did well today. I - uh," you paused. What were you even saying? "I watched from the stands."

He offered you a soft smile, one that you realized could light the world aflame, before walking back to his awaiting team.

You placed your hand over your drumming heart, sedating the flustered feeling he had left behind with you, chanting in your mind over and over again that Hinata Shōyō was a menace and you had no plan to ever like him let alone fall for him.

But no one ever plans to fall in love.

The Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club seemed to practice non-stop funnily enough, rather motivated by their loss from months ago instead of despaired. Minari had become a regular face during practice as she cheered the boys on in an attempt to woo Kageyama still, and by fault, so had you.

"Y/N, Tangerine's on his way over here." Minari nudged you, stealing your attention from the workbook open in your lap.

You shrugged, trying to focus on anything other than your slowly rising heartbeat. "Why? Did the coach bench him for his subpar plays?"

"No, actually Tangerine wanted to give you something but he's currently reconsidering."

You looked up immediately, eyes narrowing upon noticing Hinata standing in front of you with a small smirk. "You're looking really fucking smug for a guy who still needs to work on his skills. Kageyama says you lack basic technique."

Hinata rolled his eyes at you. "You're being rude."

"It's because I don't like you," you answered smoothly. "So get back to practice before you lose any more volleyball brain cells."

He let out a small laugh. Turning away, for a moment you thought he'd actually leave as simple as that, but just before he took another step, he tossed something your way. It fell on top of your workbook, smacking against the thin pages, causing a couple of the boys to look your way while Hinata jogged back to the net.

Minari leaned in closer to you. "He got you—" She cocked her head in confusion. "A wallet?"

It was a deep shade of orange that almost made you laugh out in irony. Detailed with card slots and a latch with snapping buttons, the wallet was definitely an improvement from the one you had right now.

"That's sweet... right?" Minari questioned, watching your expression as you opened the wallet to reveal a note — scratchy handwriting on a scrap of notebook paper.

'thought your wallet looked ratty old. not in a mean way of course!!!!

— your favorite, Pumpkin Head Shōyō

ps. my sister picked out the color :p'

"Stupid fucking carrot," you whispered under your breath, feeling your cheeks grow warm at his message. "I don't need a new wallet."

Minari scoffed at your words, turning to face you completely and taking your hands in hers with seriousness. "Be honest with me." You stared at her blankly. "Be honest, and tell me if you actually hate Hinata as much as you say you do. Why don't you just drop the act? You two obviously like each other enough to be friends, so why keep this all up? Isn't it tiring?"

Her words echoed through the hallways of your mind minutes, hours, and days after. Sitting at your desk in school, on your walk home, lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, they were as loud as life itself.

You thumbed the straps of your bag while waiting for the bus. The sun was slowly dropping from the sky, setting on the horizon leaving you in a thoughtful orange haze.

You two obviously like each other enough to be friends, so why keep this all up? Isn't it tiring?

The weeks following were conflicting and chaotic. Exam season settled on Karasuno High School jolting the students and staff into a cloud of stress.

You spent your spare time at the library, eyes boring into material that just wouldn't stick while a certain rotten bell pepper took his seat next to you.

"I have to pass my finals or Sugawara senpai is going to nail me to a wall," Hinata explained, spreading his notebooks out on the desk and bumping his elbow against yours in the process. "You do well in your classes, right? Do you — " He looked abash. "D - Do you mind helping me?"

Against your better judgement, you nodded. Looking back now, you suppose that's where your odd friendship began.

Days on end, the two of you would stay behind to cycle through the material slowly building a tolerance of each other much to everyone's surprise.

"Do you still hate me?" The question came one night, the weekend before his exams.

Hinata looked at you from where he sat on the swings, kicking his feet at the sandy grounds. The two of you were at the park, cooling off after a long study session.

Your eyes fell to the can of convenience store coffee in your hands. The slight of the passing breeze drilled his question further in your mind.

"No, I don't think so," came your answer, words wobbly and unsure despite the thrum of your heart beating loudly against your chest and the warmth in your cheeks.

Silence filled the space between you two before Hinata finally spoke up again.

"Then do you like me?"

Your body felt lit aflame, mind jumping immediately to the way he made you feel things you hadn't much before. "As a friend," you decided after a moment of flustered emotions. "We're friends, I guess."

Hinata nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I like you." He took a deep breath. "As more than a friend, but if you feel that way then I'll wait for you. We have time."

His confession became lost among the flurry of thoughts and colliding emotions raging on inside you. Before you could say anything in response, Hinata got to his feet, shooting you that now familiar smile of his and offering you his hand.

The new year overwhelmed your senses like a storm of rain after a drought. Refreshed after the break, you returned to school with a new sense of purpose amplified by the motivation the new year always brings.

Hinata's confession had remained in your mind, pushed to the back by celebration but still bugging you every so often. The apricot haired boy had showed up, throwing ping pong balls (of all things) at your window to catch your attention over the break asking if you wanted to go grab something sweet with him. You promptly responded with a rejection, only to find yourself walking with him ten minutes later.

"How was your break?" Minari asked, bundled in a jacket, scarf, and hat. She joined you at your side, catching you on your walk from the bus stop to school.

You shrugged, pulling your puffy jacket closer to you. "It was okay. You?"

She smiled. "Hung out with Tobio-kun. We went for hot chocolate, and he taught me how to set." Her eyes seemed almost dazzling at the memory, and you laughed, pushing her lightly away.

"You and your Tobio-kun are positively gross," you said. "Absolutely—"

Your words were halted at the feeling of warm fabric settling around your neck and a known face popping up beside you with a proud smile.

"Stay warm. You can give it back to me later," Hinata said before jogging away to catch up with a pair of Second Year boys ahead.

Your hand came up to the green scarf around your neck, failing to form comprehensive sentences. Heart thundering, you ignored the funny looks others sent your way. Glancing at Minari, you caught her slipping giggles.

"What happened to Hinata Shōyō being a rotten bell pepper?"

"Shut up."

Lending you his scarf when days seemed too cold was just the beginning of it all. Days turned into weeks turned into months of Hinata pining after you and you—though obvious to everyone else—trying to decipher your feelings for him.

"Hey, I missed you," Hinata said to you lightly after you had agreed to drop something off for Kageyama on Minari's behalf. Quickly realizing the meaning of his words, however, Hinata corrected himself. "I mean—um, as in I m - missed you earlier. Like... like I didn't catch you today, you know?"

You tilted your head at him with endearment, a small smile playing across your lips at the sight of his blushing face. "Yeah, don't worry. I got it, sweet potato."

His flustered expression dropped. "You think I'm sweet?"

Your eyes widened, stuttering to form a response and correct yourself out of this situation you had suddenly been thrusted in. Luckily, Kageyama came to your rescue before you could embarrass yourself.

"Hinata, boke, stop flirting with Y/N!" The tall blueberry haired boy towered over Hinata with a menacing glare and a scoff. Kageyama turned to you with a blank look you took for an apologetic expression.

Shaking your head profusely, you put your hands up in surrender. "Ah, no worries, Kageyama. I—uh, I have something for you from Minari. She has classroom duties today, so she couldn't come herself."

Kageyama nodded, taking the wrapped bento box that Minari had prepared for him from your outstretched hands. He mumbled words of thanks before stalking off while muttering under his breath a colorful range of insults at Hinata who in turn sent him a funny face.

The Spring Interhigh was coming up, and you were sure the Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club was itching for redemption after what had happened last August. Deciding that you didn't want to interrupt their practice any further, you made move to leave only to stop at the feeling of a hand on your wrist.

Glancing back, you raised an eyebrow in surprise at Hinata's sudden action. "What are you—"

The tangerine boy had exchanged his lighthearted expression of just minutes ago with a look that you could only describe as properly motivated. "When we make it to Nationals, promise to give me a chance."

All around you, the gym seemed to fade until only Hinata was in your line of vision.

When we make it to Nationals, he had said, not if.

Unable to respond, you found yourself nodding because who were you to kid yourself at this point?

The Karasuno Boys Volleyball Club did, in fact, make it to Nationals, but unfortunately lost to Kamomedai High School in the quarter-final round while Hinata spent his time at the hospital.

Hooked up to an IV line and dressed in one of those flimsy hospital gowns, Hinata looked unusually weak laying down on the bed. The others had left not long after you had arrived though some took more convincing than others.

"Next time, you can keep your scarf to yourself," you said, cutting the silence short with a lighthearted remark.

Hinata smiled weakly at that, his hand coming to rest atop your folded ones on your lap. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

You shook your head. "Obviously, you can't take care of yourself." Slipping your hands from under his, you took the hand warmers out of your pockets and placed one in each of his hands. "Luckily, you got me."

His face lit up. "Oh, do I now?"

Warmth spread through your body as you looked away from his hopeful gaze. "Well, you did make it to Nationals."

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #hinata headcanons #hinata imagine #hinata shoyo x you #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata x reader #hinata x you #hinata x y/n #hinata shoyo headcanons #hinata shoyo imagine #hinata shoyo x reader

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

Rain is a Chance to be Touched Ch.15

if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own

Chapter Fourteen

This is the fifteenth chapter in my ongoing hotchreid fic! Please click here for the fic summary, full tags, trigger warnings, more information etc.

Last Chapter: Derek & Emily called Spencer for a consult, and with him off his antidepressants, things very quickly fell apart.

In This Chapter: Hotch & Penelope pick up the pieces.

tw: depression-related exhaustion, disordered thinking, reference to last chapter's breakdown, discussion of medication

Word Count: 4K

RCT Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3

(Quick Note: A couple of chapters ago I referred to Spencer's psychiatrist by she/her pronouns, but I forgot that I assigned that character he/him pronouns wayyy back, so I've decided to go with that one. I just wanted to address that in case anyone else caught it like I did! I apologise for the mistake & any confusion it might have caused.)

AARON

"Find my hand in the darkness and if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own." — Tyler Knott Gregson

Aaron doesn’t fall asleep until well into the small hours of the morning, finally lulled into a cold dreamless sleep once he’s cried himself out. He keeps as quiet as he can, but he knows he won’t wake Spencer up anyway: he’s completely exhausted, and he’s out cold. It’s a small consolation, but he tries to take a small bit of comfort in knowing that his boyfriend is at least getting the rest he needs.

He wakes up only a couple of hours after he falls asleep, and despite feeling completely exhausted, he sets about the things he needs to do. The first thing he does is call Strauss to request a family day — thankfully, the bureau’s been a lot more understanding of his situation since Haley died — before texting Derek and telling him that he needs to take charge of the team if they get sent on a case. Then he calls Jess and asks if she can collect Jack from his sleepover at lunchtime and have him until the evening.

With the technicalities sorted out, he makes a phone call to Spencer's psychiatrist. At this point, if he has to drag him kicking and screaming, if Spencer never talks to him again, if it calls an irreparable rift in their relationship, it won’t get in the way of him getting Spencer the help he needs. After an emergency appointment for 11am is booked, he collapses onto the sofa and calls Penelope.

“Hotch? It’s not even 7am, is everything alright?”

Just hearing her voice, hearing someone ask if he’s okay, is enough to push him over the edge. “No,” he admits into the phone, not even trying to disguise the emotion in his voice.

“I’m on my way,” she says immediately, and he can hear a flurry of activity start up on the other end of the line. “What’s happened, Hotch?”

He breathes out shakily, running a hand down his face. The early morning sun, the bustling city below him, the bright apartment all seems so contrary to the current situation. “Spencer hit a breaking point last night,” he says shakily, unsure exactly how to word it. “Derek and Emily called him to consult on a case, and they were as brisk and focused as we all are when we’re working, but he’s out of practice; he’s not used to that way of doing things anymore. It triggered him and sent him into what I’m gonna guess was a panic attack? But honestly, Penelope… it looked like a breakdown.”

“Oh God,” she says quietly, and the sound of her exiting her apartment reassures Aaron a little.

“I had no idea how to handle it,” he says, dissolving into tears. “He locked himself in the bathroom and was literally tearing his hair out… there were clumps of hair all over the floor. He was screaming at me to leave, telling me he wasn’t good enough that he forgot his place? I had no idea what he was saying—”

Penelope interrupts him. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“Well, when I first found out about his depression, Spencer told me something about how he didn’t feel like he was good for anything except his brain and IQ, you know? He said that he wasn’t cut out for friendships or relationships and I’m pretty sure he called that his ‘place’. It’s stuck with me because of just how awful it sounded.”

“Fuck,” Aaron mutters, sniffing as a fresh wave of tears come to his eyes. “So Emily and Derek consulting him for their case triggered those thoughts again.”

“Sounds like it,” she agrees. “They’re gonna feel so guilty.”

Aaron knows she’s in a tricky situation: her girlfriend and close friend sending her best friend into a near-breakdown, and for a brief minute he feels guilty for roping her in before reminding himself that she wouldn’t be anywhere else if Spencer needed her.

“Yeah, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do about that,” he sighs. “I thought about not telling them, because Spencer doesn’t need everyone knowing about every step of his recovery; it’s personal, right? But more secrets between everyone… I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like a good idea. Especially not for something this serious.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” Penelope promises. “Look, I’m in my car now. I’ll be there in 10, okay?”

He sighs in relief. “Thanks, Penelope.”

They hang up and he drops his phone next to him before staring up at the ceiling for a minute, rubbing his temples. Forcing himself off the sofa, he considers putting the coffee machine on but he doesn’t want the sound of the bean grinder to wake Spencer up, so he settles for a cup of instant coffee instead, putting a slice of bread in the toaster as well.

By the time he’s finished his second slice, Penelope’s letting herself in.

“He’s still asleep?”

He nods, watching as she dumps her handbag on the armchair and walks further into the apartment. It’s always strange seeing her without her usual colourful outfits and makeup on, and although he’s gotten used to it in the past year as they’ve rallied around Spencer, sometimes it still reminds him of seeing her in her casual clothes for the first time when she got shot a couple of years ago.

“I’m just gonna grab some breakfast and a tea,” she says quietly, helping herself to everything in the kitchen as she always does. “You go and sit down, I’ll be over in a minute and we can discuss a game plan.”

He obeys, closing his eyes against the headache coming on, but it’s only a couple of minutes before Penelope’s sitting in the armchair opposite the sofa with a cup of chamomile tea and a slice of marmalade toast.

“Right, the first thing we need to tackle is convincing him to get back on his meds,” Penelope says seriously, keeping her voice low to avoid waking Spencer up.

He nods. “I know. I’ve made an emergency appointment with his psychiatrist for 11am, it’s just a case of a) getting him there and b) making him listen to him.”

“The problem is that he sees going back on medication as admitting defeat or failing at recovery. We need to have a really honest, frank conversation with him about it, but I just don’t know how we’re gonna get him to believe us.”

“Maybe we should use our own experiences? He doesn’t think any less of me or think I’m weak when I take pain medication when my injuries flare up. He wouldn’t think any less of you for accepting pain meds throughout your recovery after you were shot. He doesn’t think less of his mother because she relies on psychiatric medication.”

Penelope nods. “He has a twisted perception of himself. One rule for himself, another for everyone else.”

Something about her words makes Aaron feel suddenly, desperately sad. He’s always been sad for Spencer and what he’s gone through, and he’s been crying most of the night, but the realisation, the reassertion, of just how much Spencer hates himself, what his brain’s put him through over the last two years cuts deep, winding him.

“I just wish he could see himself the way we see him,” he says sadly, another tear spilling down his cheek, as though he has anything left to give.

Penelope’s expression tells him she feels the same.

Hotch goes in to check on Spencer as the clock approaches nine, and his heart breaks for the thousandth time when he finds him staring listlessly at the wall again.

“Morning, baby,” he says gently, making his way into the room.

Thankfully, it grabs Spencer’s attention, and he turns to look at him, misery and self-loathing written all over his face. He doesn’t say anything, but he holds eye contact with Aaron long enough for him to understand that it’s okay for him to be there, and he makes his way further into the room, climbing onto the bed. He’s not expecting Spencer to immediately latch onto him, burying his face in his t-shirt as he clings to him like he’s going somewhere, but that’s exactly what happens.

“Penelope’s in the living room,” he murmurs, carding his fingers through Spencer’s hair. There’s no expectation for him to reply, so he lets the words settle over them as they lay quietly together; the calm after the storm. Aaron hopes it won’t double as the before as well.

After a good couple of minutes, Spencer shifts, and Aaron follows his lead as they shuffle out of the bedroom towards Penelope’s contemplative perch on the sofa. Spencer heads straight towards her, curling into her side and drawing the warm comfort Penelope always has to offer.

“Oh, baby genius,” she whispers, kissing the top of his head. “You’re okay. We love you so much.”

It’s apparently the wrong thing to say, because Spencer immediately withdraws, curling in on himself as he starts to cry.

“Hey, hey, Spencer,” Aaron soothes calmly as he rushes over to his side, “what’s going on?”

Penelope starts to apologise but Aaron shakes his head and she settles for resting a gentle hand on his side instead.

“Can you tell us what’s wrong, Spencer?” Aaron asks, a knot forming in his stomach as he hopes against hope that this won’t turn into a repeat of last night. “We can’t help you unless you talk to us.”

Spencer takes a ragged breath in, turning his face slightly towards Aaron’s direction, and his chest clenches at the bags under his sore, red eyes; his pallid skin. “I’m sorry,” he says shakily, wiping at the tears on his face.

“You don’t have to apologise, Spencer. You just need to tell us how we can help you,” Penelope says gently, her hand rubbing small, consoling circles on his side.

Spencer meets his eyes, his face crumpling as he does and Aaron, in that moment, is reminded distinctly of a star collapsing in on itself. Spencer heaves a painful sob as two more tears spill down his cheeks. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

The admission seems obvious at surface level, but the magnitude of such a statement isn’t lost on either Aaron nor Penelope.

Aaron sighs sadly. “Come here, baby.” Spencer falls gladly into Aaron’s embrace, sobbing dejectedly into his shoulder, sounding so tired and defeated that it’s painful to listen to.

Once he’s finished crying himself out, Aaron and Penelope switch places, Aaron moving to sit on the sofa with Spencer propped up against him and Penelope settling into the armchair.

He approaches his next words carefully. “I’ve made an appointment for you to see Dr Parker at 11am. Penelope and I will take you, and we both think that you should talk to him about going back on the venlafaxine.”

To his surprise Spencer just nods tiredly, no longer crying and instead resuming his blank staring.

“And we also think you should consider talking to Derek and Emily about what happened yesterday,” Penelope suggests quietly, an encouraging expression on her face.

Spencer looks up at her, emotions flying across his face as he processes her words and how he feels about them. Briefly, he looks like he’s about to argue, about to shout or get mad, but he quickly deflates. “They’ll feel guilty,” he says miserably. “Not their fault.”

“Your relationships with everyone have come a long way, Spencer, and that’s great. But everyone is still fragile and affected by everything that’s happened in the past year, and keeping secrets like these is only going to hurt everyone more.”

Spencer’s still and silent for a moment before he nods reluctantly.

“I think that maybe,” Aaron ventures cautiously, “you should avoid doing any consulting work for a while. It’s clearly damaging for you and is always going to come with potential triggers, and when you’re already feeling sad and vulnerable, it’s really just a catalyst for an event like yesterday evening.”

Spencer nods at that, too, and Aaron wishes he could take his acquiescence as a win, but he knows it’s coming from a place of defeat and despair, and he’ll never take any consolation in that.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Aaron says. “We have about an hour until we need to leave, so why don’t we get you some food, get you into the shower, and then you can rest for any left over time? Does that sound okay?”

At Spencer’s agreement, Penelope heads to the kitchen to whip him up something a bit more nutritious than the toast they both settled for, while Aaron takes him to the bathroom to wash up.

“Are you alright on your own?” he asks as he sets the shower up for him, Spencer perching on the edge of the bath as he waits.

Instead of answering his question though, panic suddenly crosses Spencer’s face and he looks at Aaron urgently. “Jack!”

“Hey, it’s alright,” he says soothingly. “Jess is gonna pick him up from his sleepover at lunchtime and have him for the afternoon. I’ve taken a personal day and unless a case comes in, Penelope will be here for as long as we need her. Everything’s in hand.”

“But it’s Jack’s spring break! You should be spending time with him, not herding me into the shower—”

At the first sign of tears, Aaron is quick to step in, reassuring him as best he can. “Hey, I will spend time with him, alright? He was already going to be with Sam all morning, and he’ll be dropped off before dinner, so Jess is only going to have him for a couple of hours. And if you’re feeling well enough once we get back from the doctor’s, then he can come home early, but right now, your health is the most important thing we need to deal with, you hear me?”

Spencer nods reluctantly, but he can tell that the thought of cutting into Aaron’s time with Jack is only fuelling his self-loathing. Having to accept that there’s nothing he can do about that, he makes sure he’s okay in the shower before heading out into the kitchen to find Penelope.

“I can’t tell if that went well or not,” she says quietly, not looking up from the frying pan currently cooking eggs and bacon.

Aaron sighs, leaning against the counter top, his eyes fixed on the bathroom door. “I think it went about as well as it could.”

“I texted Emily and Derek, and they’re going to pop over this afternoon if we don’t get a case,” she says. “If Spencer’s not up for it, we can rearrange, but I thought it was better to be prepared.”

“No, you’re right, thank you for doing that, Penelope. What would I do without you?”

“Aw, stop it, bossman,” she says, grinning as she nudges him playfully.

He smiles. “I mean it.”

“I know. But I’m happy to help you guys out. I’d do anything for Spencer, and I know he’d do anything for me.”

“Without a doubt.”

Spencer emerges from the bathroom a few moments later, clad in a white t-shirt and some tracksuit bottoms Aaron is pretty sure are both actually his, damp curly hair a mess on his head. He can’t help but smile despite himself; his boyfriend looking so damn cute will always be a small pick-me-up on even the worst of days.

“Penelope’s cooked up a storm for you,” he says as brightly as the situation allows, guiding him to the sofa and tucking him in with a couple of blankets to get him as comfortable as possible.

He gets a small smile at that, and a murmured ‘thank you’ when Penelope brings him over a plate of bacon and eggs, arranged as perfectly as he’d expect with Penelope serving as cook.

He flicks the TV to the discovery channel, managing to catch the beginning of a documentary on big cats, and he counts it as a win when it catches Spencer’s attention, hoping it takes his mind off the pain he’s feeling just a little bit.

They spend the next forty minutes watching documentaries with Spencer before Penelope notices the time and begins herding them out the door towards the parking garage.

“No way,” Aaron laughs as she heads towards her car.

“What?”

“You are not driving, Penelope,” he says, laughing even more at her incredulous reaction. “I’ve seen you; you drive like a maniac. We’re taking my car.”

She pouts. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Does this mean I have to sit in the back, too?”

He just levels her with a look that has her sighing dramatically and flinging herself into the backseat, but when he looks over at Spencer and sees a smile on his face, he’s suddenly even more thankful for Penelope.

They sit in the waiting room while Spencer has his appointment and try desperately not to make each other more anxious than they already feel. Penelope flicks through fashion magazines at a pace that tells Aaron she’s not reading a single word, and Aaron reads over and over the case notes he’d bought with him to pass the time, no more going in the second, third, eleventh time than it did the first.

Finally, though, Spencer emerges from Dr Parker’s office with a script in hand and they both sigh a small breath of relief at the idea that he’s finally getting the help he’s been needing so badly.

“Okay, baby?” he murmurs as Spencer reaches for his hand on the way out of the psychiatrist’s office, and something loosens in his chest when Spencer nods and smiles, looking happier and more relaxed than he has in weeks.

Derek and Emily come over just after lunchtime, and Penelope gets up to open the door for them, Spencer and Aaron not moving from their position on the couch, Spencer resting his head in Aaron’s lap as one of his favourite sci-fi movies is playing on the TV.

When he sees who it is, though, Spencer moves to sit up slightly, still keeping himself folded into Aaron’s side.

“Hey, Spence,” Emily says softly, taking a seat in the armchair while Penelope comes over to perch on the arm, wrapping an arm around her girlfriend, “what’s this about?”

Both Emily and Derek look confused enough that Aaron knows Spencer will be able to tell that neither he nor Penelope told them what happened last night, willing to give him a last minute out if that’s what he needs, as well as full control over the narrative.

Derek comes over to the sofa and sits next to Spencer, keeping enough distance between them to keep Spencer comfortable, though he still rests a warm hand on his ankle. “What’s going on? You can tell us anything, pretty boy, you know that.”

Spencer looks to Aaron, and the expression on his face conveys what he needs immediately.

“Yesterday, your consult with Spencer on the methanol poisoning case triggered an… event,” he explains, trying to choose his words carefully. He wants to tell the truth, but he also doesn’t want to sound like he’s blaming Derek and Emily or use language Spencer wouldn’t be happy with. “It was a breaking point of sorts and as such, he decided to go back on his medication.”

Relief tied up with confusion are the first emotions he watches play over Emily and Derek’s faces. Everyone’s been hoping Spencer will return to his medication, but he knows they’ll want more information as to what exactly happened and why they’ve been asked over.

“An event?” Emily asks, sounding a little hesitant.

Before Aaron can answer, Spencer speaks up, his voice a little tired and croaky but convicted nonetheless. “It was a breakdown,” he says plainly, not sugar-coating his words. “I was in a bad place already and I was out of practice with what a time sensitive case entails, and it sent me into a tailspin. It reminded me of all the feelings that working in the BAU caused that year, and I couldn’t handle it. I lashed out at Aaron and…”

“The details don’t matter,” Aaron rescues his tailed off sentence. “The fact is we thought that more secrets were only going to make things worse in the long run, and you needed to understand what happened last night since Spencer going back on his meds was bound to raise questions anyway.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Spencer interjects, his voice anxious and urgent. “It wasn’t your fault, it’s just the way of the BAU and if I’d been on my medication like I should’ve been in the first place it wouldn’t have been a problem, it was just a horrible medley of circumstances. But I’ve decided that I won’t be doing any consults for a while until I can get my head on straight again. It may be that I’m never able to do them without being triggered, but we’re going to play it by ear.”

Aaron smiles at him proudly, kissing the top of his head as soon as he buries back in for a cuddle.

“Oh, Spence,” Emily sighs sadly. “I’m so sorry, we didn’t even think. We were so caught up in the case we didn’t even stop to consider you and how you’d interpret things.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” Spencer says again, this time from his place on Aaron’s chest. “I’m sorry that it had to be you guys that triggered the breaking point.”

“We should’ve been more considerate,” Derek says firmly, his expression filled with regret. “The last thing I’d ever want is to make you feel the way I did last year, and even though other circumstances contributed to what happened last night, we still failed you, kid, and I’m so sorry for that.”

“It’s fine, seriously. In a way, I’m glad it happened. Something had to give, and I’m glad that I can look forward to finally feeling normal again. I talked to my psychiatrist this morning and even though… it still feels a little bit like giving up, I feel better about it. And we’re gonna work on my attitude to medication in the next couple of sessions until I feel more comfortable about it.”

Aaron knows how much Spencer hates talking about his recovery, so it feels like a big step for him to be so personal and vulnerable in front of four different people, even if they are all virtually his family at this point.

“I’m proud of you, Spencer,” Emily says earnestly, and even though Aaron can tell she still feels guilty, at least it’s no longer the most dominant emotion on her face.

“Me too, kid. You’ve been through hell and back and we’re all so proud of you for getting to where you are.”

Spencer smiles gratefully, but Aaron can tell he’s exhausted from the events of the morning, so he sends a look to Penelope and she shows Emily and Derek out, but not before giving Emily a kiss and being teased by Derek for it.

“Right, baby,” he says as the apartment quietens and it’s just the three of them left. “I think you could do with a nap, don’t you?”

“Don’t wanna leave you,” Spencer mumbles tiredly, clinging to his t-shirt.

“Well how about I come and sit with you while you sleep, yeah? You go and get tucked in and I’ll be in in a minute, I promise.”

“You better.” It’s not much, but it’s the closest to teasing Spencer’s come in weeks, and he’ll absolutely take it.

He gives Penelope a warm hug and disappears into the bedroom.

“Looks like I can leave you to it,” Penelope says quietly as soon as the door’s closed behind him.

Aaron looks at her seriously, before wrapping her in a rare hug. “Thank you for today. I mean it. I don’t know what we would’ve done this past year without you, Penelope, but we sure as hell wouldn’t be where we are now. I’m always gonna be thankful that Spencer has someone as wonderful as you to call a best friend.”

“Hotch,” she says tearily, “I love you both so much. You don’t have to thank me, but it means a lot that you did.”

He smiles at her. “You should go back to the BAU. Go and find Derek and Emily who are no doubt beating themselves up and tell them they’re being ridiculous.”

She gives him a mock salute as she smiles back. “You got it, boss.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Keep me posted,” she says as she gathers the last of her things and heads to the door. “Let me know how he’s doing tonight and I’ll pop round after work to see him tomorrow, okay?”

“Perfect.”

As soon as she’s gone, he climbs into bed with Spencer and wraps him up in his arms, feeling — for the first time in weeks — a distinct conviction that everything is going to be okay.

Chapter Sixteen

Soooo, we don't hate me anymore? I really enjoyed writing this part of the fic, I'm such a sucker for third act angst and the resolution is always so satisfying to me, so I hope I managed to give you guys the same feeling. Only one more chapter to go, and then we're done wtf, how did that happen? I can't wait for you to all read the happy lil ending I wrote for you! See you next Saturday, for the very last time :( If this chapter has brought anything up for you and you're feeling unsafe please check out this link <3

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