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ienjoywritingfilth · 3 months

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the blue burrow

what if you could have everything? Well, almost everything.

trope: sugar daddy PP character: Dave York x f reader summary: money has always been a hard thing to come by, so when a handsome man offers you everything you've ever dreamed of, you'd be an idiot to say no, right?

warning: alcohol. strippers. smoking. my usual friday night. just so you know this story is gonna get 18+ in later chapters

words 4.4k

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part i - the blue burrow

The parking lot is already packed when you arrive at the Blue Burrow in your black shorts and white tank top, a typical uniform for the girls that sell booze and food while the others dance on stage.

"Evenin' sweet thing," a tall black bouncer croons to you as you approach.

"Evenin' handsome," you parrot his accent with a playful wink as you make your way inside.

Randy the bouncer was the first person you met on your first day on the job. It was Randy who pulled the hand of the lecherous old creep in the third row off your ass when you froze up in shock.

You've been working as a server here for almost six months, saving up for more night classes. You couldn't afford college right after high school so years later you're finally getting back into your studies. The only issue is saving enough for both that and rent in a world that seems to grow more expensive by the day.

You make your way to the back of the club, past the gyrating woman on stage and the glassy eyed regulars in the front row. A few men sit near the back, a bachelor party by the looks of it. Those are usually good for two things: big tips and drunken fights. You pray it's the former tonight.

You open your locker in the back room, placing your purse inside before sliding the lock back in place. The club is in a decent part of town, but you can never be too careful. Unlike the others here your locker is free of stickers and photos, free of anything that makes it personalized. You don’t want to get too comfortable here.

A leggy brunette walks up beside you, covered in glitter, her lips puffy and glossy. It's Tiffany, one of the best dancers here. She's impossibly sweet and when she's not dancing she's working at the seniors home her grandmother lives in.

She looks tired tonight, her forehead damp, obviously having just finished her shift on stage. When she pulls open her locker you see the framed photo of her and her boyfriend in his truck from the summer along with a magnetic mirror, a bag of makeup and a few changes of clothes.

"Good night? You ask, watching as she pulls the stack of bills from her bra and tucked into the side of her panties. She packs them into the locker and closes it, giving you a wink.

"Great night. When are you gonna get your ass up there and make some real money?" Tiffany teases.

"As soon as I don't care what I look like naked," you shoot back with an eye roll as she giggles.

The truth is even if you had a figure like a Hadid sister, you still would never get up there and strip for the masses. You don't judge the girls who do; it's just not for you. And contrary to what the media wants you to believe, lots of these girls are like you and me. They do this as a job, meaning it’s professional, they have goals and dreams and they’re some of the nicest coworkers you’ve ever had. From your very first day they took you under their wing when men said disgusting things as you brought them beers. You’re used to it now, used to the gross way they talk and act.

You’re used to the stale cigarette smell inside the club, used to the streaked mirrors in the bathroom and the occasional coke-head you find in the toilets. You’re used to the smell of lotion the girl’s wear and finding glitter stuck to the bottom of your shoes. You’ve become used to a lot.

You walk back onto the floor ready to start your shift, going behind the bar to grab your ruffle apron and circular drink tray. You prepare to make the circuit when something stops you mid-turn.

"My girl!"

A slurred voice sounds out from behind you and you hold in a cringe. A man in his fifties wearing a Hawaiian shirt is curled over the bar waving at you.

"Hey Pat," you say trying to keep your tone happy as you approach. If your boss is around he'll be pissed to hear you anything less than chipper.

"Hi honey," Pat says giving you a weak smile. "Can you get me a beer?"

You glance over at Brian, the bartender and overall terrifying figure at six foot to and three hundred pounds.

"He's been here for hours," Brian tells you sharply over the bar as he wipes it down. "I cut him off forty minutes ago but he said he wanted to wait and see you."

“Thanks, Brian.”

You sigh before pasting a smile onto your face and heading over to the slumped-over figure who slurs something when you approach. It’s garbled, thick with mucus and alcohol and you can’t decipher it.

"You know I have to work, Pat," you say patiently. "Let's go get you a taxi."

Pat goes to protest but you fix him with a stare that tells him you don't have time to be messed with. Like a whipped dog he stands, trailing after you over the sticky floors, past the women who wave him out with sweet goodbyes. They like him, he never messes with them or makes them feel less than.

When Pat stumbles a third time on the way out you pull his beefy arm over your shoulder and you help him out the front doors of the establishment. He’s sweaty and reeks of old booze. You wrinkle your nose.

The two of you move past some approaching men who take one look at Pat hanging desperately onto your shoulder and then smirk at one another, murmuring loudly.

“Kill me if I ever get that bad.”

You glare at the two of them, about to say something when Pat’s sour breath is on the side of your face.

"I never see you anymore.”

"Been busy," you inform him, grunting as you attempt to guide him to the nearest taxi. "I thought you were gonna cut back on the booze?"

"I have been I swear."

“Uh huh.”

The taxi pulls up to the curb and Pat sniffles right in your ear, a wet loud thing that make you grimace as you pull the taxi door open. You herd him towards the taxi, trying not to let your irritation get the better of you.

"I just miss her so much," Pat says and you feel your heart break.

"I know."

He pulls back when you motion to the open taxi door.

"Pat, I don't have time for this," you say trying to keep your tone light. "They're already going to be pissed that I'm out here instead of serving drinks inside. So help me out, huh? Or would you prefer I lose this job?"

Pat's watery eyes meet yours. He nods and he now shuffles towards the open door of the taxi.

"There we go," you sigh, helping him into the cab, making sure he doesn't knock his head against the low roof.

When you straighten to go to the driver’s side you notice a man standing outside the club watching you, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers. He's dressed in a suit, his dark brown hair tousled fashionably. He doesn’t look like the usual clientele.

For all you know he watched the entire display so far. The thought is embarrassing. You can't see his face but you're sure it holds judgment.

You shift your attention away and tilt down to the driver’s window to give the tired looking cabbie Pat's address.

"I didn't bring my wallet," Pat moans from where he's seated in the back. "And I used up all my cash inside."

You hold in the urge to scream at him.

"I've got it," you sigh, digging into your shorts for the rumpled twenty you put there this morning. It's the money you were saving for dinner after your shift. The shitty greasy fare they serve at your job isn't exactly stellar. But you'll manage.

The dough-faced cabbie takes it and you know from experience twenty isn't enough to take Pat home. But tonight you're hopeful he'll take pity. You give him Pat's address and he holds up the twenty as if disgusted.

"This won't cover it."

"C'mon man. It's all I've got."

"I'll take him twenty bucks worth," the sneering cabbie tells you. "Then he's out on his ass."

Thoughts of Pat in a gutter somewhere make you panic.

"I'll pay you the rest tonight after my shift," you plead with the cabbie. "All my tip money. Just make sure he gets home."

"This ain't a charity."

Pat is half propped up in the back seat, looking ashamed of himself and your heart breaks. You feel frustrated tears starting but you blink them away. Maybe you can borrow another twenty from Tiffany.

Before you plead for the cabbie to give you a minute to dash back inside a masculine hand moves over your shoulder, not touching you, holding a fifty in between his middle and pointer finger. The cabbie takes it, knowing full well a fifty by itself would cover the entire trip plus a tip. You turn, about to tell the mystery man just that.

Your words turn to sand on your tongue when you recognize the man from before. Only up this close you can see he's very handsome with pouty lips and eyes the colour of mahogany. The kind of handsome that ties your tongue. He smells amazing, something expensive you're sure.

It all combines to distract you long enough for the cabbie to take off with Pat slumped over in the back. When they peel off you have enough sense to step back, lest you get your feet run over. The man is still staring at you, his cigarette smouldering, forgotten.

"He scammed you," you finally croak. "Only costs thirty to get Pat home."

The man shrugs, watching the taxi speed off into the encroaching night.

"Thank you for that," you tell him.

"It's okay." The man surveys your face and his voice is soft molasses. "He always act like that?"

"Pat? No. Not always. He's a really nice guy. Just drinks too much lately." You swallow. "His wife passed away a few months ago and he's been a wreck ever since."

The man nods, taking a drag off his cigarette.

"I can relate," he finally says quietly.

You glance to see his ring finger free of any gold band and you understand his loss.

"I'm so sorry."

"Why?" He asks sardonically. "You didn't kill her. Unless you moonlight as lymphoma?"

His dark humour takes you by surprise. Before you can reply he offers you a cigarette but you shake your head politely explaining you don't smoke.

"I better get back before I'm fired," you say. He nods, wishing you goodnight and you’re fairly certain you feel his eyes following you until the door to the club swings shut behind you.

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

You're reading on your dinner break several weeks later when two familiar black shoes stop next to you. Gucci, if you’re not mistaken. Though you were never one for brands. You glance up the long legs to see the dark haired man from last time and your heart trips in your chest.

"Evening."

"Hi.

You're sitting in the alley between the club and the shop next door. It's clean and quiet and a great place to catch up on your coursework. A diet coke and crumpled bag of Cheetos rest next to you on the bench you’ve made of old crates.

The man glances at your seat before his eyes move to the book you hold, your thumb acting as your bookmark.

"What're you reading?"

You hold up the book to show him the cover.

"Tess of the d'Urbervilles."

"A classic," the man says lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply. You watch the smoke curl around his lips, but its his chocolate eyes make you want to keep talking. “I was never a Hardy fan though.”

“No?”

“Nah, more a Vonnegut guy. Breakfast of Champions, Sl- ”

“Slaughterhouse Five. Of course,” you say rolling your eyes. “I bet you really love Kerouac too, right? Every man does.”

“And every woman loves the Bronte sisters, Jane Austen,” he lights his cigarette before motioning to your book, “and Hardy, apparently.”

"It's for the course I'm doing,” you laugh. He joins you, a warm chuckle sounding from deep in his chest.

"Which course is that?"

"English lit."

He nods thoughtfully, looking at you before glancing over to the stream of people entering the club. It's going to be a busy night. He must see your chagrined expression because his gaze turns sympathetic.

"You like working here?"

"It pays the bills."

“If you had all the money you needed, what would you do all day?"

The answer comes to you immediately.

"Paint, drink coffee overlooking the water somewhere warm," you smile dreamily. "How about you?"

The man looks surprised, scuffing the bottom of his shoes on the low brick of the alley. "Me?"

"Yeah," you nod. "What would you do if you had all the money in the world?"

Dave quirks a smile before answering.

"Try to make other people happy."

"Oh that's a much less selfish answer then mine," you say with a laugh that the man joins in on.

"I don't think you're selfish. Just honest."

He seems to be about to ask you more when the side door squeaks open and your name is hissed out by your boss; a stocky bald man that's is perpetually sweating.

"Breaks over. We're bottlenecking in here."

"I still have ten minu---"

"You'll have all the time in the world if I fire you right now," he snarls back at you. "if you'd prefer that?"

You sigh, wiping your dusty fingers on your shorts. You cast a look at Dave that reads this is my life. Dave is glaring at the bald man who ducks behind the door before you're headed back inside after your asshole employer.

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

You saw him the second he entered the club a few weeks later; the man in the suit. You watched another one of the girls wait on him, deflated that you wouldn't get the chance to chat with him again. You liked him, liked how he talked to you without raking his eyes over your chest or ordering you to fetch him another vodka.

So you were disappointed that it was the men who did just that, that you had to wait on that evening. You ignored their leers as they watched the girls on stage. You held in a grimace when they wafted their onion and beer breath over your face asking for a refill.

You try not to be jealous when some of the dancers come out to the crowd, offering lap dances. You see several approach the man in the suit - why wouldn't they? He's dressed clean, he's handsome, he smells gorgeous and he looks like he has money.

You hold your breath, covertly watching him as they approach him. He shakes his head politely, waving off their offers. He seems perfectly content to watch in the back row nursing a glass of whisky.

A pathetic part of you is delighted. It's not every man that can turn down Tiffany and Candi.

But the man in the suit catches your attention a short while later as you dropped off a beer at a neighbouring table, murmuring your name. You didn't realize he'd known it. The sound of it in his silky baritone make you break out in tingles.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Was hoping I’d see you tonight.”

The man gives a calm smile up at you and you attempt to hide your delighted beam. He was hoping to see you. You can’t deny thinking about him lately, hoping every shift that he’ll be there. He’s become a bright spot to your shifts, a dream of something you’ll never have.

Men with money who drink top-shelf alcohol and wear fancy shoes. Men who comes to strip clubs when they feel like it and go home to frosty girlfriends with manicured nails. You imagine his apartment, sprawling, with leather furniture and massive televisions in every room. Despite his fondness for literature you don’t imagine bookshelves, only marble floors and sterile rooms. Plush beds for him to fuck pretty, fragile-looking girls on. Girl’s with trust funds or high-paying jobs, girls that smell like Dior and not old grease from the oil trap you often help to clean.

You’ve already got him squared away in your head, the handsome man in the suit. He’s not for the likes of you. But that’s alright, you enjoy his company when he gives it. You don’t want to ask for more.

He twists in his seat, lowering his voice to a purr that only you can hear.

"How much for a private dance with you?"

All the goodwill you'd held for him is lost in an instant. He is in fact just like the rest of them. You balance your drink tray on your hip, swallowing your disappointment but you keep your customer service expression.

"I'm just a waitress here," you mutter, your face heating under his scrutiny.

"I'm aware." The man nods his head. "I asked how much it would be for you to do a private dance for me."

You blink at him still unsure that he understands what's offered. But you've seen him before; he obviously knows what goes on in here.

"I don't know how to dance," you explain, fumbling for the right words. "Sexy, I mean. I don't know how to dance like those girls on stage."

You motion to one of your friends who is twisting around the pole with feline grace as men wolf-whistle. The man doesn't follow your gesture; he just stares at you with his arms folded over his chest. He has a look on his features that reads that's not what I asked.

You feel sweat accumulating at the back of your knees, the commotion of the girls on the stage and the men cheering making the room feel small and suffocating. Yet the man still waits for your response with what feels like cool appraisal.

Fuck it.

"Five hundred," you say, biting back a smirk.

Most of the dances are from fifty to a hundred for three songs in one of the back rooms. You know it's too expensive but that's-

"Done."

"What?"

The man is standing and pulling his wallet from his back pocket and you can see several crisp hundred dollar bills stuffed inside. He pockets the wallet, straightening.

"I'm good," he says. "Lead the way."

You stare at him a full moment before cheers for the girl onstage shake you. You nod, twisting and making your way to the back rooms. The champagne rooms. Rooms where the girl’s take the men that pay extra for private dances.

Randy looks you over, smirking as he unhooks the red ropes allowing the two of you to pass.

"Pulling double duty tonight are we?"

You give him a pointed look. Don't blow this for me. Five hundred dollars is a good chunk of your rent.

"Room three is open." Randy's smile drops as he looks at the tall man behind you. "Three songs, no touching the talent, you remain seated the entire time. Break the rules and you'll be fined and banned."

"Understood."

"Enjoy your evening," Randy says nodding at the both of you before hooking the ropes behind you.

You enter the room with its leather couch and dim lighting. There's a pole in the centre and on the far side is a set of speakers. Beside the couch is a bucket of ice and a waiting bottle of champagne. You don’t drink enough to know if it’s good or not.

"What's your name?"

He surprises you with this question. You glance over your shoulder to see him standing with his hands in his pockets, casual and nonplussed.

You think of all the things you've overheard working here for the past year.

Never give your real name. Never go home with a guy here. Never walk to your car alone.

"Aurora," you answer quickly, the first name you can think of as your eyes search the floor before they dart to his face. It's clear that he doesn't believe you, but there's bemusement in his expression.

"Sleeping Beauty," the man replies in a throaty rasp. "Nice to officially meet you, I'm Dave."

"Hi, Dave."

He smirks before taking a seat on the couch, looking sidelong at you. You swallow anxiously before setting up the speakers with the music player that permanently resides there, stocked with an array of sexy tunes.

You click the first one and the speakers blast a slow, sensual tango. You lower the volume a bit, so it's not so shrill but you don’t turn around.

You feel Dave's eyes on your back. Is his name really Dave? It doesn't matter. You have to dance for him. For three songs. You've seen the other girls do this. They rub themselves on the clients, gyrating along to the music. It can't be that hard, right?

You finally turn and make your way shakily over to him, forcing a smile.

Dave makes no move to touch you, no desire to degrade you. He simply watches you sway from side to side like a middle-schooler at a dance. You can feel the money slipping away second by second.

Here goes nothing.

You prepare to peel the tank top off your body, painfully aware that your old bra is full coverage and likely not the sexy piece Dave was hoping for. Neither is your body which can't hold a candle to the women he's been watching on the stage.

You hesitate.

"Do you want to take it off?"

Dave's voice reaches you as you consider your options. Five hundred dollars is on the line right now.

"It's what you paid for."

"I asked if you want to take it off."

You nibble at your lower lip anxiously.

"No."

"Then don't."

Dave continues staring at you with a serious expression until your hands fall to your sides. The first song ends, the next track beginning. He settles back in the leather seat, arms wide on the backs as if he’s watching a movie.

You shift from side to side, painfully aware that this is the most awkward experience of your adult life.

"Do you have a song you want to hear?"

"I don't really care about the music," Dave answers honestly. "I thought maybe we could talk."

"Talk?"

"Yeah. Communicate. Exchange words." He smirks up at you before patting the seat next to him.

“You want to talk?”

“If you don’t mind.”

You hesitate a moment before striding over and placing yourself at the edge, prepared to take off if Dave tries anything.

"How's your class?"

"Uh, good, good," you answer truthfully.

“You’re still enjoying it?”

“Yeah, I am,” you smile. “No Vonnegut on the syllabus this semester so I’m in luck.”

Dave leans back against the sofa, chuckling a bit. You feel a flush crawling up your neck, but you maintain eye contact with him. He tilts his head slightly to the left, taking you in.

"Are you taking more classes after?"

"Yeah I wanna get my degree," you confess. "But classes aren't cheap hence me working here at night and at a coffee shop during the day."

"You have two jobs?"

He looks so incredulous you can’t help but giggle.

"Yeah."

"When do you sleep?"

"Whenever I can."

Dave nods thoughtfully, rubbing at his chin in thought.

"Must be hard."

"It's not easy," you confess. "How about you? How many jobs you got?"

Dave smiles at your question, showing off perfect teeth. This doesn't surprise you. Dave screams money and money people always have perfect teeth.

"Just the one."

"You like it?"

"Sometimes."

The third song begins while he glances around the small, humid room with its soft lighting and brass pole. He turns back to you.

"Why do you work here?"

You give him a sardonic laugh.

"Why does anyone work? To pay the bills."

"Yeah, but why here? At this club?"

"Because they were one of the only places hiring when I was looking. And because I don't have a degree it's hard to find jobs that pay well and I need the money. Plus the people here are really nice, sometimes the tips are good and I get a free meal every shift."

"I see."

The music ends, leaving the two of you in absolute silence. Only the muffled sound of the main room is heard. There’s a gentle rap of knuckles on the other side of the door, Randy making sure you’re not being worked overtime. You give a half shrug to Dave, almost apologetic.

"Times up."

Dave nods, not looking upset.

"When do you work next?"

This is another one of the rules. You should never tell a guy your schedule.

The only thing is you kinda want to see Dave again. Even if it’s just to sit here and chat with someone who finds you interesting enough to talk to. You so rarely have the opportunity to do that these days.

"Friday."

"Okay."

He stands up, pulling the wallet from his pocket. He pulls out the bills, folding them and handing them to you politely. Despite everything the action makes you feel cheap. You look down, shocked to see he left you eight hundred dollars. For three minutes of work.

He's moving towards the door where Randy waits just outside.

"Wait," you say quickly and he pauses, turning to look at you with surprise.

"I'm sorry, I lied to you before. Dances are only, like, a hundred max, not five. Here."

You hold out all the money to him, feeling ashamed. You did a terrible job, not worthy of being paid at all.

"Here,” you repeat, shaking the bills at him. “I didn't even dance."

You've never been one to lie and if he'd treated you like shit then maybe you would have kept his money. But as it is he was kind and gentle. He helped you with Pat. You don't feel right keeping his money.

Dave looks at the money outstretched in your hand, his liquid chocolate gaze moving up your arm until it leads to your down turned face.

"I know dances aren't five hundred," he says smoothly. "I paid what I thought you deserved."

"I didn't deserve almost a thousand dollars for a chat," you say huffing a laugh.

"It was worth it to me," Dave replies. "Keep it."

You hesitate and then finally lower your arm, shoving the money into your shorts. He takes a moment to linger at the door, a wry smirk on his face before he taps the door twice with his knuckles.

"I'll see you Friday, Sleeping Beauty."

#Dave York #dave york smut #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york fanfiction

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simpxxstan · 2 months

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strangers to lovers with junhui

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the members' headcanons in the event too as i post them through this month!

warnings: mentions of one night stand. very mildly suggestive tones, rest is only fluff!

thinking about strangers to lovers with tour guide!junhui who's your designated guide for your first overseas trip to singapore

it's a twelve-member group for the tour, but you're the only one who's travelling solo and of age less than forty. perhaps this is why junhui is naturally drawn to your side. ever since you got off the airplane, junhui has been tagging near you, although he doesn't forget the other members of the trip as well. he's a professional tour guide after all- only five star ratings in the last year. he's not going to make slips in his work just because of a pretty passenger.

and yet, he's oddly drawn to you. he's not staying at the hotel the group is put up at, and he's not even supposed to be there at the dinner for that night. and yet, he does go. he goes, wearing his best shirt, even as the rain pours on, and he makes sure to sit at your table. you look even more lovely after resting post that long flight, and jun knows, that he's lost it even before the trip has begun.

the first day is scheduled for the tour of the gardens by the bay. "i'm so excited to see the flowers! i really like flowers. i have my own garden, you know. well, it's not too big, but i try." you're wearing a blue sundress, and jun thinks you look like a flower yourself, but he can't say that. instead, he grins. "i've seen them so many times on account of these trips, and yet the charm isn't lost on me."

thankfully, the group isn't a very taxing one. everyone seems to be happy sightseeing on their own, as long as jun remains close at call. and jun takes full advantage of this to stick to your side. he maintains a healthy distance at the start to ensure you don't get uncomfortable, because the last thing he'd want is for you to think he's a creep. but then, you specially seek him out during lunch and sit on the bench next to him, the edge of your sundress fluttering and brushing against his body, and jun feels slightly more hopeful of reciprocation.

thinking about tour guide!junhui who's just what you need for your tired heart when you whimsically decided to go on this trip after an extremely exhausting month at work

not only is he excellent eye candy, but also so sweet to you. you're suspicious of his oddly cute nature for the first hour or so, but then you realise there's no point in suspecting him. you've been betrayed enough and you have nothing left to lose.

he's also an A class guide. you've never been on a guided tour before, so you don't have a metric for comparison, but he's certainly way better than what you had imagined him to be like. he's extremely friendly, and under all those silly jokes, he's very knowledgeable and good at his job.

for example, he takes you to a beautiful photo spot where you can get a perfect view of the entire city of singapore, but it's not half as crowded as the designated viewpoint. he knows the best restaurants and cafes to eat at, hidden away in alleys you can't spot even on google maps. he knows what's the cheapest rate at which you can buy souvenirs, and he helps you bargain too.

you don't know if this is behaviour towards all his guests on all his trips, but a fanciful part of you thinks he is slightly partial towards you and you want to relish that. it's been long since you've had the attention of anyone. and it works wonders for you and your mental health.

thinking about tour guide!junhui who sees you wear even prettier dresses and makeup from the second day of the tour

he wonders what may have brought about this change. perhaps it's your mind unconsciously reflecting the beauty of the city? there's so much he wants to ask you, but he cannot, because he's a professional. but no one can stop him from picking up observations.

for instance: he sees no ring on your finger, and you're travelling alone, and there's no one calling you at all. so it's highly likely you're not in a relationship, although he can't rule out the case of a very secure partner who doesn't call through the day and only calls at night, even if time differences are wild.

he hears you talk about the fact that you work late often and that's why you often don't have time to go out and wander as you'd like to. so it's same to assume you're employed and perhaps a corporate job (if the exhaustion in your voice while talking about it is anything to go by).

he hears you talk about family, but only in passing, not like you're close to them. he doesn't want to assume anything, but he can only hope you're not lonely. because then his heart would break ten times over.

thinking about tour guide!junhui who deviates from the trip schedule and takes you out to a night market to enjoy street side delicacies

"you mentioned once that you prefer street food to restaurants." he tells you while the two of you walk to the market. you gasp a bit, quite taken aback by the fact that he remembers. no other words come to your mouth except, "i do. thanks for this, junhui."

jun shows you all the delicacies of the market, and you make sure to try each. it's a whole lot of fun going around with him, because even though he may be shy, he's a great conversationalist. especially because he doesn't intrude or ask personal stuff, but is happy with conversations that flow naturally like two friends catching up after a long time.

"where do you live, jun?" "umm, near the outskirts." he runs a shy hand through his hair, "about an hour away from here." "an hour! it's already eleven and we have to leave for sentosa tomorrow at eight am! how are you going to rest!" he smiles in embarrassment. "it's fun going out with you. i have no one to go home to anyway."

because of the crowd in the market the two of you end up standing very close to each other. so close that you can see the exact spots of his moles and the way his front teeth are slightly jagged at the edges. his smile looks like the most beautiful thing on earth, further warmed by the stars in his eyes and the short brown bangs that curl around his pretty face. if you tiptoe just a little bit, you could kiss him.

thinking about tour guide!junhui who knows he missed an opportunity to kiss you last night

it's a six-night-six-day tour and it's already the fourth day. and while jun should be distancing himself from you, because he can very well see how this is going to end in a crushing heartbreak for him, he cannot find the strength to do it.

because there's something that you're doing that keeps dragging him in. perhaps it's the way you lightly clutch his arm while navigating through crowds. or the way you spot that he's left a seat next to you on the tour bus and you take it. or the way you let him have a bite out of your ice cream last night.

you're just friends. friends can share food. friends can share bus seats. friends can touch sometimes. and jun needs to keep reminding himself of this.

but it's oh so hard. "junhui? do you think this hat suits me?" "junhui, do you wanna go on this ride with me? it's a haunted house ride, and it's embarrassing but i'm a tiny bit scared." "junhui, we can share the umbrella, and you can give your umbrella to mrs myers. she needs it more than you do." "junhui, can you take a photo of me?" "junhui-"

he's sick of it, the way you're playing his heart along. but worse, he's sick of the way he's responding to it, like a loyal dog. because he can't help it. he will regret this closeness when he watches you leave, but he will regret not getting close to you too and taking a shot at destiny when he had the chance to as well.

thinking about tour guide!junhui who doesn't turn up for dinner on the fourth night

you wear your best dress that night, and even heels. but jun, the rascal (endearingly), the damn brat (even more endearingly) just doesn't turn up! not just that, he doesn't even text you or anything. just leaves you sitting at the restaurant, alone at your table for two, while the rest of the group enjoy their dinner. it's like a date that dumped you, but it's not his fault at all.

it's totally your fault for thinking you could even have a date with a boy you'd met three days ago and fallen for immediately. for all you know, he may have a girlfriend (even if there's no one waiting for him at home), he may have a doctor's appointment (although doctors don't generally work at night), he may be a criminal (pretty sure he'd lose his job then) or he may be a practiced playboy (but he's too shy for that)!

you barely eat anything that night. mr and mrs myers, an elderly couple enjoying their second honeymoon, ask you if you're quite well, because you look distraught and lost. "no, i'm perfectly fine! just not much of an appetite, i think i'll just sleep early tonight." mrs myers adds, "oh. have you heard from jun? funny that he didn't turn up tonight." "yes, well, no. i haven't- no. not heard from him. but why would i? like, he'd text in the group, right? not me personally?" she smiles in that mysterious way that only older women can do. "i thought he'd like to inform his girl. well, this is the tragedy of youth- no sense of timing."

thinking about tour guide!junhui who's confused at the way you're maintaining distance from him on the morning of the fifth day

is it because he didn't come last night? he has a perfectly good reason- his brother turned up suddenly, and he couldn't really desert him when it's been a year since he's seen him.

so, when jun finds you alone staring at the penguins displayed at the singapore zoo, he takes the opportunity to read your mind. "how was dinner last night?" you jerk a bit at his voice, but quickly mask your surprised expression. somehow, you look especially good today. the pale green shirt makes your skin glow, and jun is suddenly jealous of whoever your future partner will be.

"good enough. enjoyed the nasi goreng that they served us." he's feeling a bit bold, so he asks, almost too softly for you to hear. "did you miss me?"

you don't immediately reply, but he sees the way your shoulders freeze. jun's mind panics and he immediately covers it up by rambling no no that came out in the wrong way i didn't- " i did. i did miss you." your words shock him to no end as you turn around to face him. there's an equal vulnerability in your eyes that reflects his own state.

"really? i'm sorry, i am. my brother arrived last night. he was supposed to come next week but he said-"

and then you lean in and kiss him. kiss him on the the mole that's on his cheek. "y/n?" "you have a brother." another kiss on the mole near his eyes. "yes, but-" "is he like you?" another kiss on a mole above his lips. "not much, we're step-" "did you have fun with him?" another kiss on the mole nearly on his lips. "yeah, but y/n, what are you doing right now?" "i missed you, junhui."

thinking about tour guide!junhui who you're going too fast with, but you can't help yourself

not with the way you crave for his touch all morning when you finally see him after... twelve hours. it's a little concerning, how hard you're falling for him. to be honest, you've never experienced this. is this love? or is this just you being infatuated?

"y/n, you go home tomorrow." "i do, but i couldn't stop myself. is this wrong? do you not want this? have i read you incorrectly?" "no. i do want- fuck, i need this, y/n. but i don't know if i can have you, so i can't continue." "we can just have one night together."

fuck. that's the wrong thing to say, clearly, because jun's face immediately changes from a constrained elation to a dejected puppy. "is that all you want? a one-night stand?" "jun-" "because i don't want that. so it's best if we don't really do anything about this because you'll be leaving tomorrow."

you can hear the way jun's voice breaks towards the end of his sentence, and you lean forward to kiss him again. "i don't want just a one-night stand with you, jun. you're wonderful and all i've been looking for, and honestly? fuck one-night stands. i want to have a house and kids with you. but we know that can't ha-"

jun giggles, and breaks your stream of thought. you pause, smiling at the cute way he's giggling. "what?" "house and kids?" you blush, averting your gaze, but jun's hand cups your cheek. "you're so bold, y/n." you gulp, "i'm just being honest." but then jun stops laughing. "but you know we can't. even though every cell of my body is aching to touch you after knowing that you like me too, i... i can't. we live in different countries. we've known each other for not even a week. we can't do long distance, it won't work."

you place more of your face into the cup of jun's palm. "you don't need to remind me of it. i've spent all night thinking about it. i really like you, but it feels cruel to know i can't do anything about it. that's why... i want to spend these two days with you. just you. i didn't want to deny my feelings anymore. not when i'm leaving tomorrow and i have nothing to lose." you smile, a bitter, sad smile. your heart aches with each word of truth you utter, but it's your only option left.

thinking about tour guide!junhui who kisses you next, a warm, soft kiss that makes you forget your surroundings

the guard near you interrupts your kiss and asks you to keep your pda private, because this is a zoo for kids, and the two of you double over with giggling. "sorry!" jun says, before he whisks you away towards a secluded spot for bird-spotting and kisses you more.

his hands rap around your waist, and he thinks, he'd rather die here than live without you. because everything you're even better than what he's imagined. the way your soft curves mould into his hands, the way your chapstick tastes like honey, and the way your shampoo smells of vanilla. you're a dream, a cloud melted into reality for him, and he wants to do nothing but hold you close.

"junie-" you moan into his kiss when he bites your lower lip, and your body clings to his even more. it's an exhilarating sensation, and jun craves it. "do you wanna come home with me tonight? meet my brother? eat dinner i make for you? i'm a good cook i swe-"yes! don't have to convince me, jun. yes, it's always a yes."

so he does. after the day's scheduled trip is over, he comes up to your hotel room, and sits with you on the couch as the two of you drink coffee and he helps you back your bags. it's a constant ache in his chest- the reminder of you leaving the next day. but it's too domestic and fulfilling a feeling for him to not take part in it. after that, he takes you home, where you meet his brother, who thankfully hides into his room soon after, so that he can get you completely to himself.

thinking about tour guide!junhui who cooks authentic chinese food for you, things you've never tasted before because your entire knowledge of chinese food is through takeout

perhaps it's the newness of the fond, warm feeling fluttering in your chest, perhaps it's the way the two of you eat from one plate as junhui shows you how to pair side dishes and even feeds you from his chopsticks, perhaps it's the way he cooks for you from scratch, or perhaps it's just the deliciousness of the food itself. but you're pretty sure that this is heaven, and nothing can beat it.

later in the night, jun and you sit on his sofa, curled up under a blanket, as the two of you make mindless conversation, sip beer and play games on his phone. it's only after midnight, that the initial happy vibes die down and the melancholy takes over. "we could be pen-pals," he says, spooning you from behind, as the two of you fit tightly into his sofa. "we could do video calls and texts and all..." "you said you didn't want a long distance relationship. and frankly, neither do i." you turn around to face him, and your heart breaks at the way his eyes water up slightly. seeing him, you break into tears as well, and he pulls you into his chest.

"i know. but i can't bear thinking that you'll be gone tomorrow. forever. that this is the end." your sobbing only increases at his words, and you can feel his tears fall on your forehead too, even though your eyes are shut.

"let me take you back to your hotel now-" "no. let me stay. please, jun?" your eyes are red with the crying, as you look up at him. and he presses a kiss to your forehead, and keeps his lips lingering there. "whatever you want, princess."

thinking about tour guide!junhui who wakes up to the smell of coffee and an omelette getting overcooked

he finds that you're no longer next to him on his sofa where you both had cuddled and fallen asleep last night. instead, you're in his kitchen, feeding breakfast to his baby brother, who's chatting with carelessly, as if today isn't the day of the apocalypse.

"oh, you're up! morning, jun." you walk over to him and place a kiss on the spot between his eyebrows. "i made breakfast. do you like tea or coffee? i didn't know, sorr-" "y/n? you have to get back to the hotel." "huh? no, i - i actually got my stuff sent over here. the hotel valet were so kind." "what?" "yea-" "i know i said the airport's close from here but you're supposed to leave with your group, you know." "eh? don't bother about all that, let's just eat breakfast now. good that your fridge is so well-stocked!"

jun's brain goes into overdrive because he's still sleepy, so he escapes to the bathroom to freshen up. "how did you brush your teeth?" he asks you when he comes out of the bathroom. "i used my finger." "finger? eww." "hey, it's better than using your brush!" jun grins and sits down on the kitchen counter next to you. you hand him a bowl of cereal with chopped fruits, and an omelette. "how did you know i like cereal?" "because your brother told me, dummy."

and for a few minutes, jun is in bliss. the two of you sitting on the counter, dangling your legs, eating cereal and slurping milk, and stealing kisses in between. but it's soon ten-thirty on his watch, and his heart rings out in alarm.

"y/n, you should leave soon. your flight's at noon, isn't it?" you look up from your seat, where you're eating the last piece of mango from your plate. "umm, so. i cancelled my flight." jun's plate almost slips and falls. "you what?" "yes, you heard me right. i cancelled my flight." "why?" "because i need time to think! i want at least two more days with you, so that we can figure out stuff. whether us shifting to one city is possible and-" "what? y/n? really?" jun's eyes are as wide as saucers now as he stares at you. you smile. "well, it was the only way out for me to make peace in my heart."

and jun kisses you. because it's the only way he can rein in his heart which is dancing with joy at the prospect of merely two more days with you and you even considering shifting to one city as a couple. "are you even real, y/n?" "i ought to ask you that!" "i love you." you smile, a little shocked, but it's a sweet smile. "i love you too, junhui."

#simpxxstan #simpxxstan's 550 followers celebration event #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #svt #svt x reader #seventeen x you #svt fluff #jun headcanons #svt jun #jun fluff #wen junhui #jun #jun imagines #jun x you #jun x reader #jun romance

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sl-newsie · 1 year

Text

Mature (Dr. Spencer Reid x College Student)

(Summary: The BAU gets a case that takes place near a college campus, and one student seems to catch Reid’s attention. There is a bit of an age gap. This is based during the end of Season 6. Warnings: Talk of cannibalism, gun violence)

“Remember class: Monday’s exam will have 150 questions and no makeups. Remember to study hard!”

My dental hygiene professor finally releases us, signaling the beginning of the weekend. It’s currently 5:30 on a sunny but crisp Friday in October. Nothing special, but the lack of leaves and chilly frosts makes it one of my favorite seasons. But I can’t take too much time to watch the weather- I’ve got work to do.

Of course I’m the only student who dares to sit in the front of the lecture hall, and I take my time to gather up my things as the others start filing out.

“You going to the game tonight?” One guys asks his friends.

“Yeah it’s gonna be sick! You’re bringing the beer, right?”

“Sure am! And what about-” He whispers: “The pot?”

Their conversation dies away as the walk out of the room, leaving me to shake my head in disappointment. No doubt their whole weekend will involve drinking, getting high, and possible sexual content. More than likely they’ll fail the exam.

“Merrian! Are you coming to the game?” I hear one classmate, Regina, ask.

“No, I can’t. I’m going for a jog and then starting my flashcards for the exam.”

Regina, one of the more popular and *cough* snobby girls gives me a fake smile. “Oh you never go to any social events! Why not give that brain a break and be a college student for once?”

I just shake my head and continue to look through my notes. “I am being a college student, only I’m being a smart one and actually trying to get through this class without depleting any brain cells through alcohol abuse.”

But my insult flies right over Regina’s head. She just keeps smiling, turns and walks away, leaving me (no surprise) alone again. But it appears today has something else in store, because the door opens and my professor walks back in leading a group of people who look way too professional for a place like this. The one that appears to be the leader is tall, dark-haired, and is wearing a traditional business suit. The man following next to him appears to be of Italian descent and is wearing a dark suit similar to the leader’s. Next is a blonde woman wearing- quite honestly, one of the most unique outfits I’ve ever seen. It’s a purple and blue patterned dress, hot pink heels, and a big purple bow with her hair in pigtails (it almost puts my current Veronica Sawyer gray skirt and blue blazer outfit to shame). Another man is bald with darker skin and a more athletic build, wearing a more laid-back style of clothing, obviously the muscle of the group. And last behind him is- huh. He’s a lot younger (and much cuter) than the others, one might say a few years older than me. He’s dark-haired like the other men and wearing slacks with a white shirt with a gray vest and blue tie, almost matching me. But what stands apart from his attire is the pistol tucked in a holster attached to his belt. It’s almost like the one I’ve got tucked under my skirt (for protection, of course). Are these guys from the police station? They don’t look like local authorities.

But sadly I’m still in the front and am caught looking.

“Who’s the model?” The blonde with pigtails asks, making me turn pink.

My professor finally notices me. “Oh yes. This is Merrian, one of my students. She’s just packing up-”

“On the contrary, it might be nice to have a younger person’s opinion on this matter,” the Italian agent speaks.

A younger opinion?

“By the way, I love your blazer!” The blonde squeals and rushes over to get a better look.

I title my head. “Not too bad yourself, Barbie.”

But the leader doesn’t seem too impressed. “At ease, Garcia. Remember why we’re here.”

The blonde nods and backs off, leaving me facing the group head-on.

“Is she trustworthy? We need to keep this as confidential as possible,” the athlete says.

My professor nods her head. “Merrian is one of the most dedicated students I have. I guarantee she’ll give you her best effort.”

“Very well.” The leader steps forward to shake my hand. “I’m FBI Agent Hotchner of the BAU. These are Agents Rossi, Morgan, Garcia, and Dr. Reid.” He points to each agent, and when he introduces Agent Reid I can’t help but notice his body language shifts. He keeps playing with his hands and changing his footing, and isn’t as relaxed as the other agents. Maybe he just drank coffee.

I give a small wave. “Hello. So, what is it you guys do? Obviously you’re a government department but I’ve never really paid attention to that stuff.”

“Don’t you watch the news?” The blonde ‘Garcia’ asks.

“Nope.”

This answer gets me surprised reactions, especially from Reid.

“Why not?”

Yes, he’s definitely younger. His voice reminds me of the smart nerd type, but with my educational history I’ve never actually been able to meet many smart guys so it’s very new to hear this.

I shrug. “Ignorance is bliss. I figure if there’s something that’s truly important that’ll affect me then I’ll hear about it sooner or later. I try not to let the fear that strands from current events control my life.”

“Ok. Then to catch you up, we have a potential threat that’s been sited near the edge of town. There’s a man who’s been catching people in hunting traps and then eating them.”

Uh- Oh my! Was not expecting that.

I try to keep a steady face. “Alright. So what does this have to do with me?”

“Your current study of dental work, plus the unsub seems to prefer female victims,” Reid speaks up. “There’s one witness who managed to escape his trap, but not before he bit her. We’ve been able to analyze the teeth marks, but it doesn’t match the correct dental records. They show the unsub’s supposed to be someone who died 10 years ago. We checked the death certificate and sure enough the body’s buried in a nearby cemetery. Do you have any ideas why?”

I take a deep breath and try to piece together what I’ve learned so far. I’ve only been in this program for a year, but that doesn’t mean I’m useless.

“Take your time,” Agent Rossi assures. “It doesn’t have to be much, just anything we might have missed-”

I snap. “I got it! Have any of you guys ever seen the movie The Whole Nine Yards with Bruce Willis?”

Most shake their heads, but then Reid seems to follow my idea.

“Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? Brilliant, Marrian!”

“Excuse me, mind letting us in on your inside joke?” Agent Morgan questions.

“At the end of the movie, they modify another body’s teeth to match Bruce Willis’ character and then burn it in a fire so the mafia will think he’s dead. What if this unsub had dental work done so he couldn’t be traced? ” My explanation starts the agents sparking up new conversations, leaving me to believe I might have actually just helped solve an FBI case.

“I know it’s not the type of professional answer you might have wanted.”

“That’s just the kind of insight we were looking for,” Agent Hotchner finally addresses me. “Thank you, Merrian. We’ll be sure to stay in touch and inform you if this threat is neutralized.”

He walks out, followed by Morgan. But the others linger for a moment.

“You’re taking all of this surprisingly well,” Rossi points out. “Ever consider becoming a profiler?”

I chuckle. “I did once, a few years ago. Sociology is one of my favorite subjects to learn, but I’ve just used that as a hobby. When I looked further into the job description I decided I wanted a career that wouldn’t take so much out of my free time. So for now I’m sticking with dental hygiene.”

He nods. “Well if you change your mind, here’s my card.” He hands me his contact info and exits after the other 2 agents.

“Tell me- where did you get your shoes?” Garcia asks when she points to my feet.

“Oh. Um, Goodwill actually.” I’m a bit embarrassed to say I’m a thrifter, but in college all money must go to classes.

“They’re so cute! I’ll email you my list of favorite thrift websites later,” she remarks as she walks to the door.

“B- But Agent Garcia you don’t have my email-?”

“I’ll find it.” She winks. “And call me Penelope!”

She gives Reid a smirk and shuts the door, leaving me alone with the last agent.

“I gotta ask, how old are you?”

My blunt question doesn’t seem to be new to him. “30.”

I was right!

“Sorry for asking, but it’s just very different-”

“To see someone like me on a government bureau team,” he finishes. “It’s ok, lots of people ask. I could say the same thing about you.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

He mirrors my confusion. “Aren’t you close to my age?”

“I’m 22.”

Reid’s eyes widen. “No way! You look- I mean, you seem- Um… you don’t act 22.”

I chuckle and go to grab my backpack. “I get that a lot. My mom says I’m more mature than most people my age, which means I have to be forced to associate with immature peers. I just hope other people never assume I’m the typical college type. You know, drugs, drinking, sex, procrastination. I’ve never even gone to one party. I apologize for the idiots you might come across here.”

I expect the FBI agent to leave it at that and go off to find his team, but instead he jogs up behind and walks with me down the hall.

“No I don’t see you like that, it’s just… you’re definitely more mature, and seem more clear-headed than the other students I’ve seen here so far.

I hold my head back and laugh. “Oh, no. By no means am I as smart as you might think. I have what I call ‘selective knowledge.’ I never picked just one topic I like, so I find bits and pieces of information about all kinds of topics. But not too much in depth that I’m an expert. With what I know about you so far I’d say you’re way more smart.”

He looks down. “Yeah, kinda.”

“Spill it. What’s your education background?”

“Um… I’ve got PhDs in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering. Bachelor’s in psychology, sociology, and in the process of one in philosophy.”

I stop dead in my tracks and turn to look at him with wide eyes. “And you’re downplaying that? Jesus, you’ve got more knowledge stuffed in your brain then I’d ever have in 5 lifetimes! Why choose a job in the BAU?”

He considers this. “I find that I do some of my best work under intense terror.”

I nod. “It’s nice to know what type of job works best. I’ve jumped around different jobs, and still haven’t found one that fits right. As for the terror thing, props to you for dealing with that on a daily basis.”

Dr. Reid seems surprised. “Hm. You don’t mind crazy talk, do you?”

I stifle a laugh and hold the next door open for him to pass. “‘Crazy talk?’ What’s that?”

“Talking about subjects that any random passerby would find odd, like murder or psychological disease.”

“You’re talking to someone who watches The Conjuring as a comfort film. I don’t call that crazy talk, I call that enjoyable conversation,” I smile cheekily as he walks past me through the doorway. “You gonna go find your team now?”

Reid clears his throat and bites his lip. “Well, um… Since the unsub’s been sighted near the city I should make sure to get you to your dorm safely.”

This unsub must be pretty dangerous for him to be this anxious. Or is it something else that’s got him so worried? I must say it feels nice to have a smart guy to talk with who’s actually taking the time to make sure I’m safe instead of daring me to chug a beer.

“Aw, that’s sweet. But I don’t live in a dorm, I live in a small rented room downtown.”

“Really? I guess you really aren’t like normal students. So where are you going now?”

Is he asking professionally or out of curiosity?

“There’s a secret spot I have in the theatre lab. Dark and quiet with a nice table. Good for studying.”

He perks up. “Dark? Do you think you could show me?”

I shrug and start leading him to the lab, pushing my sleeve back to check my watch. “Sure, just don’t tell anyone. I like having a place where stupidity is at a minimum.”

Reid gets a wide grin on his face and follows eagerly. “Your secret’s safe with me. It’s kind of embarrassing but lately I’ve been dealing with- Oh my gosh! Are you hurt?”

I follow his gaze to my arm, which has gauze wrapped around it. I’m surprised he noticed- usually people don’t give it a second thought.

“Wha-? Oh, no. I donated plasma earlier today and have to keep this on for 2 hours.”

“I see. Do you get paid?”

“Yup. If they’re willing to pay me to sit in a chair for an hour, money is money. Gotta pay the college bills somehow. So what have you been dealing with?”

“Right. Um, I’ve had these headaches for a while now and none of the doctors I’ve seen can tell me what’s wrong. They’re triggered by bright lights, so that’s why I like to find dark places to think.”

Hearing this makes me sad, especially since a nice guy like him shouldn’t have to go through something like that.

“Then don’t have me keep ya waiting. Here we are!”

Now we’re at the theatre lab and when I open the door to let him in, Reid . “So then how are you liking your dental hygiene clinicals?”

I set my backpack down and switch a small light on. “I like it, but it’s more of a job that pays well and allows me free time. Next summer I’m looking into a program that gives me a certificate in culinary pastry design-” I stop myself before I start ranting. “Sorry, I don’t mean to talk your ear off. People don’t always listen this long so I usually just talk to keep away any awkward silence. Americans are intimidated by it, you know.”

Agent Reid just nods and sits down on a nearby stool. “I don’t mind. I like hearing you talk.”

“But it’s not as intellectual as you’re used to.”

“Maybe not, but- how should I describe it? You’re like a funfetti cake.”

Reid’s analogy makes me giggle and give him an odd look. “Um, thanks? How so?”

“Because you’re not just one flavor. You bring a sprinkling of all different topics, and none of them are boring or immature. Go ahead, continue.” Reid sits back as if he’s sitting in for a lecture, and I’m the teacher.

“Um… ok. So anyways, between work, school, and all my other hobbies it’s no surprise when I keep telling my mom I haven't gone on a date-”

“Wait, seriously?” Reid interrupts. “You’ve never gone on a date?”

I try to ignore the heat rushing to my cheeks and go turn on the music speaker. “Never got a chance to. Back in high school I was more introverted and read all the time. Now no one wants to be around a boring, mature college student who dresses… like this.” I gesture to my unusual outfit.

“Hm. I’d think you would’ve been able to find at least one decent guy.”

I’m not sure if he’s kidding or just trying to be nice.

“Don’t make me laugh. Even the few guys I’ve talked to see me as a colleague or acquaintance, not even friendship status. I’ve steered clear of all the red flags and bad habits college kids typically get into, and it’s gotten me this far. All I’ve got is some family, my cat, and my brain.”

Reid doesn’t say anything, and a part of me is glad for it while the other half is a nervous wreck. While I don’t want to really get into the details of my miserable social life, at the same time I’m strangely anxious about what the handsome doctor thinks of me.

“It’s the musical season, isn’t it? I can tell you’re a fan.” How does he-? “I’m guessing on account of the Newsies sticker on your water bottle and your outfit that resembles Veronica Sawyer from Heathers.”

A smile grows on my face. “Oh! A profiling genius and a theatre fan! You’ve got quite the brain, Dr. Reid.”

“I actually only recently got interested in it after watching one of Garcia’s plays- oh! You actually remembered!” Reid scratches his head and smiles. “Thanks, that means a lot.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“People don’t always address me by my full title. So what’s on your agenda now?” He seems to rethink and adds: “Not that I’m being nosy!”

His curiosity isn’t uncomfortable for me. If anything it’s nice to have someone take an interest.

“I was going to practice for musical auditions, but since you’re here I’ll just do some homework.”

“Oh I don’t mind! Really! I won’t laugh, promise,” Reid says sincerely.

“No, no. I do my best work alone, as always.”

He frowns. “That’s not a healthy mindset.”

I chuckle darkly. “I’m not exactly the ‘teamwork makes the dreamwork’ kinda gal. I’ve always done best on my own, so I don’t argue it-”

“Attention, attention!” The intercom starts blasting an alarm overhead. “There has been a potential shooter spotted near the edge of campus. All students, staff, and visitors are to head immediately towards a sheltered area. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill!”

Agent Reid immediately goes alert and checks his pistol. “We better get to a more secure location. Come with me!”

He goes for the door, but I don’t see a reason to leave.

“No, you go find your team. I’ll stay here. It’s a hidden spot, anyway.”

But Reid shakes his head with concern and takes my hand. “No, I can’t allow that. If the unsub is here he’ll go after you. You’re his type, Marrian, and I won’t let you get hurt.”

Wow. I’m sure he’s just doing his job. Still it’s becoming incredibly difficult to ignore the growing affection for the geeky agent. And it doesn't help that normally I’m a very anti-touching person.

He pulls out a cell phone and dials a number. “Hotch, this is Reid. What’s your location?” After a few moments he says: “Yes, I’m here with the student we interviewed in the theatre lab. We’ll meet you there. Yeah I know, we’ll be careful.” Reid seems to notice my slight reaction to his physical touch and his hold tightens. “I need you to stick close to me, understand?”

I nod and follow him out. “This is… definitely not what I planned for a regular Friday evening, but as my mom always says I need to stay open-minded. Lead the way, Dr. Reid!”

His stern face lightens by a fraction. “Um, you can call me Spencer if you want.”

Is- Is he trying to flirt? Seriously, I wouldn’t know. Somebody tell me!

“Isn’t that less professional? I thought you FBI guys were all suits and no humor.”

He doesn’t answer and triple-checks the hallway before signaling the all-clear. We quietly make our way to the main office, and the whole time I’m trying to ignore Reid’s hand clutching mine.

“We'll be able to-”

“Look out!” I push Spencer out of the way just as a bullet flies past my head, but I’m not too lucky with the second one. It buries itself in my left shoulder blade and the sudden force sends me crashing to the cold floor.

“Oh my God!” Reid shouts and kneels down to address my wound.

“Well hello, my pretty,” a deep sinister voice chuckles. A figure in a black hood lurks out from the corner, with a hunting rifle pointed directly at Spencer.

“I’ve gone too far this time, too far to disappear. But I’ve got one more chance, right? That’s right.” He points at me, the gun wedged pointed on his shoulder. “I’ve been watching you, girly. And I like you. Your healthy diet is most delightful, and…” He gets a twisted look with a sinister smile on his face. “Such a pretty face…”

“You leave her alone!” Reid speaks sternly.

I turn to find him pointing his pistol at the unsub, but the man just laughs.

“My my, Dr. Reid. You’ve grown quite attached to this woman. I’m almost sad to have to kill her and end such a blooming young love.”

Love? I don’t know who this guy thinks he is, but he’s creeping me out! Still not what I planned for a regular Friday evening…

The unsub starts to creep closer, and before I know it I’m backed against the wall with Spencer at my right.

“Don’t you touch her!” Reid shouts. “Stand back or I will shoot!”

“Oh no you won’t, Dr. Reid!” The unsub turns angry. “You won’t, or else I will skip my evening meal and blow a hole in this girl’s brain right now!”

He’s going to kill me… Eat me… Oh God. But I can’t let him hurt Spencer. His life is worth a thousand times more, and I couldn’t stand to see him get hurt.

The unsub is still focused on Spencer, so while he’s distracted I slowly inch my hand towards my skirt, almost to my concealed pistol-

Bam!

The unsub fires what seems like a warning shot and in the sudden chaos Reid fires his gun too. Reid doesn’t get shot, and instead his own bullet buries itself in the unsub’s calf. He stumbles out of sight around the corner.

“Quick! In here!” Reid pulls me into a nearby classroom and shuts the door. “Are you in pain?”

Yes! Every inch of skin in my shoulder is screaming at me and the adrenaline is starting to wear off, allowing the pain to escalate. But I need Reid to focus on the task at hand.

“I’m fine. I’m fine…” My head starts to feel dizzy and I put a hand to my shoulder, pulling it away to find it covered in blood.

“No you’re not fine. Here-” Spencer takes off his tie and does a makeshift tourniquet near my acromial region. “It won’t last long, but it’s the best I can do.” He kneels down and starts searching through his pockets. “I’m all out of bullets!”

“My… my skirt. Under my skirt…”

He lifts the fabric up to reveal my pistol. “When did you get that?”

“Since I turned 21, but I’m too dizzy to shoot it. Take it!” Reid removes my pistol from its holster, using careful hands to show modest intentions. “Now go. Go stop him.”

“But if you don’t keep appropriate pressure on it then you could bleed out!”

“Just go! I’ll figure it out. I don’t care if I pass out, you gotta go stop him and end this.”

I’m pretty sure Reid’s now speaking through panic mode. “No you can’t die! I still need to ask you out!” Did I hear that right?

“You- what? I think I’m starting to blank out. You need to what?”

But Reid doesn’t answer. He just rubs a hand through his messy hair in frustration, while all I can do is slowly slip in and out of consciousness. When he’s decided his next move he leans down and kisses my forehead, and if it weren’t such an unusual situation I’d actually have butterflies in my stomach.

“I’ll be right back, Merrian. I promise.”

And just like that he sprints out. I don’t know how long it’s been, but soon I hear gunshots in the hall and all I can do before I pass out is pray that Spencer’s ok…

“She’s lost a lot of blood, but she’ll live.”

“Quiet an injury. She’s lucky you were with her.”

“And where is she going to?”

My mind buzzes to life and I start to become aware of my surroundings, opening my eyes to find myself in a hospital bed. My arm has an IV. More than likely they’ve given me morphine for pain control. But the biggest relief is when I see Reid talking to one of the doctors at the foot of the bed.

“Spencer… you’re ok,” I croak through a groggy voice.

He notices I’m awake and quickly rushes over to give me a gentle hug. I see he has no wounds, another relief.

“God Merrian, I’m so sorry. I was supposed to protect you-” He whispers into my hair.

“No, don’t worry about me. You did all you could, Spencer. Is the unsub taken care of?”

He nods repeatedly. “Yeah. I shot him dead right after I left, but by the time I got back you’d already blacked out-”

“Excuse me sir,” the doctor steps forward. “I’m afraid she has to be transferred now.”

I look up with wide eyes. “Transferred? Where? What do you mean?”

“The bullet nicked one of your main arteries,” the doctor explains in a calm voice. “We don’t have the proper tools or expertise to perform the surgery on your shoulder, so you are being transferred to Grand Rapids.

“Then I’m going with her,” Reid pipes up.

“I’m sorry sir, but unless you are a guardian or next of kin then you cannot accompany the patient-”

“She’s the victim of a BAU unsub. That makes this a government matter so I should be able to find an excuse to go-”

“No you can’t, Reid.”

We all turn and find Agent Hotchner, along with the rest of the BAU team, walking into the room.

“We’ve been called back to Quantico. I’m afraid you need to say your goodbyes now.”

Spencer and I exchange disappointed looks, but I figure good things must come to an end. All this unsub business is enough excitement to last me a long time, even though I am sad to see the handsome agent go.

“I’ll be fine, Spencer.” I give him a small smile. “Go do what you do best.”

He nods, seeming to debate something in his head. “I- I’m glad I got to meet you, Merrian.”

I chuckle. “I should be the one saying that about you, the great Dr. Spencer Reid.”

Spencer returns my laughter and takes my hand again. “Feel better. I know from personal experience that recovering from a gunshot is no easy task. I’ll come visit as soon as I have free time. And… I’d like to take you out sometime, maybe someplace where you won’t get shot?”

His question is asked as if it’s a simple classroom inquiry, but it’s making my heart jump (unfortunately shown by the heartbeat monitor). I can tell Reid’s nervous just as I am, but I know it’s all part of the dating ritual.

“I’d like that.”

He cocks his head. “What part?”

“The not being shot part is definitely a perk, but I’d like to finally go on my first date. With you.”

Spencer gets excited and I can already see the wheels spinning in his head just as Agent Hotchner calls for Reid to get going.

“I- I’ll see you later, then! Hope you won’t mind me ranting about literature by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?”

I squeeze his hand just as the paramedics start to get me ready to leave. “It’s a date, Spencer.”

Reid’s POV

The ride on the Jet is quiet, and as usual I chose to read alone in a corner. This time I’ve chosen Hallowe'en Party by Agatha Christie, most appropriate for the upcoming holiday in a few weeks.

“Hey loverboy! You gonna join us for a card game?” Morgan smirks from the table. “Or is your head too fuzzy thinking about your new friend?”

“You do know I could still beat you, right?” I ask matter-of-factly.

“Screw cards! I wanna hear all about the boy genius’ new girlfriend!” Garcia giggles.

I just shake my head and turn back to my book, ignoring their gossiping chatter. I won’t let their teasing get to me. Ever since Emily died my mind’s been in a fog, but meeting Merrian seemed to snap me back into reality. Give me something to hope for. All I know is I can’t wait to get time off so I can see her again…

#criminal minds #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #david rossi #criminal minds fandom

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mdilip948 · 23 days

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pink-strawberry-kissess · 1 year

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Not a question, just a headcanon

Ada, as the CEO of her jewellery company and Leon as her bodyguard and secret lover cause he doesn't want anyone to think he's using her for her money.

ooooooooo

ada as ceo but also designer, she has so many things to do for her job and because of how successful she is, she also needs protection. she hires leon purely because he was the best at his job, she didn't mind that he was attractive either but didn't really talk to him that much at first

she frankly thought he was a bit too good at his job, he was very to the book, continually doing his job how he needed to so she didn't complain

he starts to keeps an eye on her even if he's not working

ada hired other bodyguards as well, leon needed time off too

but the other ones complained about ada a lot sometimes. she would run off somewhere and they wouldn't be able to find her!!! (this is bad for their jobs!!)

they would complain to each other- that ada was cold to them, often times even a bit rude, but they chalk that up to her being "too rich," to really know what it's like for other working class people

leon figures that ada was never that mean to him, so he just thinks maybe she was having a bad day with the other bodyguards.

eventually ada only asks for leon, and he doesn't mind

it's super late one night, leon just brought her home and he was about to just check on her one last time for the night- but he walks in on her accidentally, she was in the bath or something and he just, covers his eyes, "oh, my apologies Miss Wong."

she's still covered by bubbles, but just sighs, probably stressed about everything in her life

"is there anything i can do to assist you?" "if you could order dinner for me soon?" "understood." "order something for yourself also."

leon's surprised, but nods and turns away and leaves to go do that.

he doesn't really know what to order for himself, he's not really hungry so he just orders ada like her usual dinner... maybe something french and fancy and he just orders himself a burger and fries

their dinners are delivered and ada's out of the bath now. her face bare of makeup and her hair is wet along the tips. just a silky robe is wrapped tightly around her waist, her long legs exposed underneath. she sits at the large dining table and laughs when she sees leon with the fast food bag and the fancy bag for herself.

"you ordered yourself a burger?"

"well, i usually don't eat while on the clock..."

"eat dinner with me."

"what?"

she's already digging into the bags, stealing a few fries from his bag. he sits near her in the corner of the large table. he tries a bit of her dinner. finding the flavours a lot more refined and distinct. but he still mostly eats his burger. she asks him a few things but he mostly just answers politely, he's not meant to talk a lot while working (it makes him distracted)

after dinner, she yawns a bit and heads to bed without another word. leon just signs off for the night and heads to bed as well. (he stays in her penthouse suite as well unless he has a day off)

the next day, he wakes up and heads down to meet ada and start his work day and ada's already in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, a sleek form fitting power suit with maybe a plunging neckline and sparkly necklace (from her line! hehe) and some dangly earrings also. they're red diamonds and sparkle and contrast well with her outfit. her hair is sleek, her makeup perfect. her lipstick print faintly staining the rim of her ceramic cup.

"ready for today?" she asks and gathers up her birkin??(would she be a birkin girlie? or prada??? chanel? dior???) and slim briefcase with laptop and heads on out after finishing up her coffee. leon follows swiftly, helping out out of her penthouse and towards her office building??? and towards some meetings and also to work on some designs for a new collection

leon can't deny that he's attracted to her, i mean who wouldn't be? but he keeps things extremely professional-

until he finds it hard to keep being professional around her ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

they start sharing dinners more, sometimes breakfast, always after ada asks. she starts to ask more and more of him. and he obliges

until! one night things start to get a bit too hot and heavy, they had dinner, ada slipped into the bath. she changes into a soft sexy set of bra and panties.

he's gotten more comfortable around her- the other guards are def already thinking they're sleeping together, but they haven't yet. YET.

she asks him what he thinks of what she's wearing. he can't even say what he wants to say which is like, "fuckfuckfuckfuck" he just ends up saying, "you look... uhhhhhhh." "speechless huh?" "you look.. perfect." they do flirt a bit, especially since leon starts to get the idea that ada's actually interested in him. (aso cause leon's stupid)

but she teases him a lot, pushing him onto the edge of her bed. straddling his thighs, teasing him with a kiss on his cheek. "good night handsome," and she lifts herself off of him and heads to her walk in closet or something while leon rushes out towards the spare bedroom and just FURIOUSLY MASTUR

this repeats and ada eventually catches him. finding him sitting on his bed, just stroking his cock and whimpering and whining to himself. she hears him whining her name and just giggles to herself. he scrambles to hide himself but the damage is done

"are you stroking your cock and thinking about me?"

"show me what you do."

"what are you imagining? that i'm doing this?" she asks with a tilt of her head, she lowers herself onto her knees and perches her manicured fingers onto his thighs. her eyes going back and forth from his eyes and his bulging cock. he pumps himself so slowly, the head leaking more precum since he can't even control himself, seeing ada watching him.

"use your words leon."

when he doesn't answer, she just leans in and kitten licks the tip of his cock. he JUST CUMS FROM THAT.

"hmmm, already?"

she just trails her finger along the head and shaft, collecting his cum and tastes a bit of it against her tongue.

she just hums, her lips upturning and gets up and leaves. she probably goes to bed a bit huUHHHHghugh and fingers herself to sleep but also feeling a bit dissatisfied since she hasn't had a partner/bf in a few years. leon's JUST right there, so she's maybe like- well...

BUT HE'S TOO PROFESSIONAL! he won't do it. in the morning he apologizes for being so unprofessional and swears it won't happen again. he'll even resign if he has to.

but she says she'll double his pay. he can't accept that, he won't.

so things kind of fall back into normalcy. but ada's so bored now that leon won't break his professionalism. ada tries to go on date with someone but leon doesn't want to work that shift. instead he tries to go date someone else too. both dates fail miserably, ada's only wanting her money, and leon's just because they could tell his date could tell he was hung up over ada.

the next time they see each other they're both in bad mood. frustrated in more ways than one. ada's struggling with the new collection and leon's also just trying to be professional still. he declines to her dinners but also feels bad because she's obviously lonely. she puts on front and pretends she's fine but she does miss his company. she ends up heading to his bedroom one night and he's still up, maybe just thinking and can't sleep. "can't sleep either?" she nods and makes her way over to his bed. she sits on the edge for a while. nothing said between them both.

"would you like me to make a tea for you?"

she's just wearing a silk robe, tied around her waist. this one much longer so it hides more of her legs. he doesn't stop her when she moves over on his bed and straddles herself over his strong thighs. he swallows though, realizing he's only wearing boxer briefs underneath the blanket. ada slowly ghosts her fingertips along his chest and neck. leon rests his hands on her hips. stifling any noise from his lips and stares hungrily at her.

what the fuck is a block limit???? i just got hit by it is it cause of the bullet points??? what the fuck???? okay well. uh guess im done for now what teh fuck fuck you tumblr okay anways i'll add onto this more later maybe sljbfjdsbfs just when it was getting good huh?

cockblocked by tumblr

wow

#ask heart #heart answers #kittenslady #ada wong #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #aeon #leon x ada #leon kennedy x ada wong #leon s kennedy x ada wong #ada x leon #ada wong x leon kennedy

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