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newbie-whovian · 2 years

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Hey hey it’s me again 😅👉🏼👈🏼

I’ve always loved the concept of current companion meeting past regenerations of the Doctor. So I was wondering if you’d like to play around with that?? (I do prefer a 12 x reader, but honestly do whatever you want, go ham bestie!)

(Hell yeah 👌 lovely to hear from you again! 😁)

Echoes - The Twelfth Doctor x Reader, Featuring The Fourth and Eighth Doctors

Out of everything you knew about the Doctor, the fact that he'd been other people in the past was probably the hardest to grasp. Regeneration had always been a little hard to wrap your head around, and every time he explained it, it somehow got harder to comprehend.

You looked at the Doctor over the console and exchanged a smile when he met your gaze, bracing yourself as the TARDIS landed with a jolt. "Go ahead," he said, checking something on one of the monitors. "I'll be right out." You smirked to yourself as he snapped his fingers to open the door and you stepped outside. "Right out" could mean anywhere from five minutes to three hours, although more often than not, it erred towards the latter.

The TARDIS had landed on an enormous cliffside, looking out over unfathomably tall trees that stretched past the mountains and towards the sky. The branches of these trees were nearly as wide as small buildings, and formed bridges from the various cliffs to the enormous forest ahead. Branches met and formed a web that tangled the trees together, and the winged inhabitants walked along them as if the whole thing were a massive outdoor mall.

You took in the sights with a wide smile, stepping towards the edge of the cliff and the beginning of one of the branches. It looked sturdy enough, but you held your breath slightly as you stepped over to the branch, continuing towards the stalls and tents set up along the walkways. Vendors shouted and held out their wares, showing you jewelry and fabric and various weapons and tools, and you lamented that you should have asked for some pocket money.

You didn't get far into the market, however, when a man in an olive velvet coat and gray slacks stopped in his tracks and made a beeline straight to you.

"Excuse me, but I seem to have misplaced a large blue box, could you help me?" the stranger said, giving you a grin. You had begun to walk away but you paused, saying slowly, “This blue box wouldn’t happen to be called a TARDIS, would it…?”

His face lit up and he said enthusiastically, “Yes!” His smile didn’t dim a single notch as he asked in a voice full of wonder, “How did you know that?”

You gave him a smile and said, “I’ve been around. Where have you already looked?”

A question flashed behind his eyes before he dismissed it with a shake of his head, sending his wavy hair flying around his face. He walked with an undeniable energy, like he was a kid exploring a zoo, and he said as you followed him, “I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself, I’m the Doctor, and you are?”

You stopped in your tracks. He halted after a moment when he realized you weren’t following, turning back with a curious frown and saying, “Have I offended you? You don’t have to tell me your name if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head with a small laugh, saying, “No, no no, you haven’t offended me, it’s just… I didn’t think it was possible for me to be here.” You met his gaze, recognizing some small piece of your Doctor in this stranger’s eyes and allowing yourself a small smile. You offered your name and thought for a second, saying, “We should find your TARDIS.”

He examined your face with an odd half smile dancing around his face before continuing along the branch, a bounce in his step. “Why shouldn’t you be here?” he asked in that strange tone your Doctor always donned whenever he was asking a question he already had an answer for.

“Well, I thought you weren’t supposed to be able to cross your own timeline, was all,” you said, and you didn’t think his smile could get any wider.

“So you travel with me? Or some future version of me, anyway? Or past, it’s entirely possible, this body’s memory isn’t the most reliable,” he rattled off, and you answered him with a finger pressed over your lips.

“Spoilers,” you muttered with a grin. His eyes sparkled with mischief.

As it turns out, he’d left his TARDIS tucked in between two similarly colored tents, and when you pointed it out, his reaction was as if it were Christmas morning. He dashed towards it with a small wave, unlocking it with an oddly shaped pendant around his neck. He was close to disappearing inside before he turned back to face you, beckoning you closer.

You made your way through the stalls and the bustling crowd, and once you were close enough to hear, he said, “I can’t wait to meet you!” You tugged him in for a hug that he returned with a laugh, lifting you off of your feet for a moment before letting you go.

He stepped inside and the doors shut behind him, and you stepped back with a wide smile as his TARDIS began to dematerialize.

You found your Doctor wandering through the market with a concerned look on his face. He gave you a smirk and said, “Of course, the one time I actually mean ‘right out,’ you wander off to Rassilon knows where.” You apologized with a small smile, and he returned it reluctantly. “Should I even bother asking where you ran off to?” he said, heading towards one of the larger groups of tents.

You looped your arm through his elbow and shook your head, resting your head on his shoulder as he let out a sigh.

You’d been put on guard duty, and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. You stood across the street from some sort of apothecary, tasked with letting the Doctor know about everyone who came and went. So far, there’d been no one, and it had been almost an hour now. You let out an exasperated groan, crossing your arms and slumping against the wall.

All of the sudden, a tall man wearing an outrageous scarf tore around the corner onto the street, looking around with wide eyes. He caught sight of you, not exactly hard to do, seeing as you two were the only people around, and jogged across the street with that ridiculous scarf coming dangerously close to tripping him.

Before you could get a word in, he said, “Have you seen a young lady about this high?” holding a hand up to his shoulder. You frowned and answered, “No, you’re the first person I’ve seen for about an hour.”

He almost cursed under his breath, burying his hands in his pockets and pulling out a small white paper bag. That bug-eyed gaze stayed locked on the cobblestone street as he offered you the bag, muttering, “Would you like a jelly baby?” You looked into the bag with a puzzled expression, grabbing one of the multi-colored candies and popping it in your mouth. He ate three before the bag disappeared back into his pocket.

“You’re the only other person I’ve seen in this entire town,” he said with something resembling abject fascination in his voice, “The only one.”

“Why do you think that is?” you asked, “I mean, people live here, right?” You looked down at the sidewalk and kicked a pebble into the street. He watched it bounce into a storm drain and said, “That’s not necessarily true, towns can be empty for a number of reasons, none of which are very appetizing at the moment since we both have people we’re waiting for. Although I assume yours at least gave you a bit of an errand before they ran off without a word.”

You frowned and looked at him quickly, saying, “And how do you know that?”

“Why else would we be waiting outside a closed apothecary?” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You crossed your arms and said, “Well yes, the Doctor told me to wait outside this dump and he-”

“The Doctor?” the stranger interrupted, his face lighting up with a smile with entirely too many teeth. “Now that does make things more interesting. You see, I’m the Doctor, and if you’re telling the truth, then there’s another me running around, am I correct?”

You paused before narrowing your eyes at him, and he said, “I suppose you’ll want proof?”

You pause again before saying slowly, “Honestly, I don’t think I know a single other person who could ever be anyone close to you,” giving him a smirk. “And besides, that scarf…”

He gave you an indignant look before flipping the scarf over one shoulder defiantly, saying, “Let’s go, we've got to find Sarah."

"And you!"

"Yes yes, and me I suppose."

#doctor who #doctor who fic #classic who #twelfth doctor #twelfth doctor x reader #12th doctor #12th doctor x reader #eighth doctor #8th doctor #fourth doctor #4th doctor

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thestarsoutofyourwindow · 2 years

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Four Years Old - Revival

I know I've got a bit of a history of being very on-and-off with Doctor Who, and I want to thank you all for being so patient and understanding through the years. Here's the summary to those of you who don't know me well. (More information is under the cut).

As a sort-of thank you to you all, I'm going to start working through my 60 inbox requests. I probably won't even finish half of them, but I'll make sure I give it my best go. I'll be sorting through my asks, and also writing some new fics, based on what you guys want on this short Google Form.

I just looking for a bit of information on what kinds of Doctors you want to see, and what tropes/stories you want. You don't have to but I appreciate it!

I came to the realisation today that my Tumblr recently hit 4 years old. I've been writing fanfiction for nearly 6 years of my life. It's absolutely crazy to reflect on how much I've changed, and how different everything has grown. I won't rabbit on too much, but it's nice.

Doctor Who was the fandom that started such a massive part of my life, way back in early 2017. There's a handful of people who probably followed me from my Wattpad, with @manicmarsupial being the first, to my memory. I want to thank you all, even if I don't remember your names. I also think I owe @anne-white-star a mention for being such a supportive figure over these four years. You've been here for everything, so I wanted to thank you especially.

(Sorry for the tags)

#doctor who x reader #the doctor x reader #10th doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #new who x reader #classic who x reader #tenth doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x reader

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lovifie · 23 days

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Fishy Business (Mermay'24)

Mermaid!Soap x Reader

4k words - masterlist

Cw: injuries, smut, oral sex, unprotected p in v, monsterfucking(?, let me know if I missed any 💙

Johnny has been living in the tank for two weeks now.

Discovering mermaids were real, shock the world, but in all honesty, only for a couple of days before the evil human mind started to think of ways to profit out of them.

Luckily, mermaids were not stupid and knew perfectly fine that they needed to stay away from the human reach; almost able to smell the putrid aroma of ill intentions pouring out of them.

But no matter how good they hide, humans still find the way to, even if not on purpose, to damage the ecosystem. And when you get the call that a mermaid got his tail tangled on the propeller of a boat and needed urgent care, you weren't really surprised.

You sent your instructions, so the poor thing could get the needed treatment while you made your way to Pentland Firth.

It only took you a couple of days to reach John Price's aquarium. Gruff, big guy that offered the empty tank at his fish sanctuary to keep the merman until it got released.

A solid handshake was his welcoming greeting when he opened the door and he let you into his house. “It's nice to finally meet you, Doctor. You’re making quite a name for yourself lately.” He said, a kind smile on his face making his beard move with it and wearing a funny looking hat more fitting of a sailor on his head.

“Well, not so hard to do so when there is so little competition in mermaid care.” You answered, not completely lying. Little was known about the mermaids, and almost every paper that got published was the first of its kind. Your name just happened to appear on most of them.

“Then I can assume you know your way around them? Sneaky little shits, with kind eyes and sharp teeth.” He said, a chuckle leaving his mouth as if he just remembered something.

“To be completely honest, you have probably seen more than me.” You admit, as you walk next to him, trying to keep up with his pace. “I hear they are quite a number up North, they must like the cold.”

“They like the lack of people.” He almost interrupts you with a low unhumorous chuckle. “This one swam a wee bit to the south… and look what happened.”

You see him shake his head, as if he felt guilty himself of the creature getting hurt. “Anyway, ready to meet him?” He asks, the kind smile back on his face as he takes a corner. He opens the only glass door on the hall, and with a hand on the small of your back, he lets you into the platform sitting over the water surface inside of the tank.

The metal platform rustles with the weight of the man walking alongside, only stopping when he walks up to the man standing at the end of the gangway. Standing just a couple of feet away from them you are able to comprehend their size, massive men, broad, strong, muscular, tall men. They definitely don't look like the classical marine biologist who would own a fish sanctuary.

But then the water splashes, making you look to where the surface of the water is rippling, but without any sign of what causes it.

“Simon, let me introduce you to the doctor. Doctor, Simon here has been the person in charge of following your instructions.” He slaps Simon's back hard, it reverberates against the tank walls but the blonde looks like he didn't even feel it. He is wearing a surgical mask and the rest of his body is covered by a wetsuit. A little contradictory thing.

“Nice to meet you, Simon. How has it been?” You ask, smiling as you look up at him.

“Like givin’ a stray cat a bath.” He mumbles, shaking your hand with a strength that has you trying your best not to shake with it.

“And him? How is it?” You ask, trying your best to be professional and not act like a kid in a candy shop. But the truth is, this is the first time you are going to interact directly with a merman.

“Hm… Like a stray cat that got splashed with cold water.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

“You are good with metaphors…” You mumble, hearing Price snickers behind you. “So… not really happy with the treatment, then?’

Simon shakes his head, looking back into the water. “Nah, the sashimi shit doesn't want anyone to touch him, and his tail is looking more and more grey as days go by.”

You hum, nodding as you turn to also look into the water. “I'll work on some antibiotics to pour into the water… it won't be as effective, but it'll be a start.”

Price turns as well, all eyes on the water looking for the creature that seems to have disappeared into the water. Camouflage abilities are not to be dismissed taking in consideration how little is known about them, but if Simon was just dealing with him, they should be able to see it.

You look into the deep end, the hairs of your nape rising when you feel eyes on you. But the water in front of your eyes is empty, not a droplet moving out of his place and the only thing you can hear is both men breathing next to you.

“How does he look? Maybe if I have a mental image I can-”

You don't get to finish your sentence, at least not before you feel a wet hand wrap around your ankle and pull it. Hard.

It doesn't give you time to use your hands to stop the fall before your chin knocks the metal of the ground, the skin bursting at the hard hit. A single drop of blood mixes with the water underneath before two pairs of hands grab your arms keeping you from going under the water.

At the pull of your body, you feel sharp claws rupture the surface of your skin where they are holding you, only stopping when Simon stomps his foot right beside yours, threatening to step on him next.

“Enough, Johnny!” He snarls at the creature, standing between you and him, while you cling to Price's legs. If you end up underwater, you are not going alone.

It is hard for you to focus your sight on anything, panic and pain mixing in your system. Only being able to see the creature when you hear him hiss at Simon. The stray cat comparison of Simon being really appropriate now.

The merman captivates you, looking perfectly human, still knowing that no human would stand so high over the surface in open water like him, your brain forcing you to remember the fish-like tail under the water.

You can't bring yourself to pull your eyes from him, both your hunger for knowledge from finally being so close to a real breathing merman and both for the fine specimen of a man staring you up and down like you will be his next dinner.

It's Price the one that pulls you away, helping you on your feet and keeping his arm around your waist to help you walk without resting weight on your foot as he walks you out of the tank. Behind you, and without you noticing, Simon and Johnny share a knowing look, only broken when Johnny gives him a short nod before sinking back in the water, the taste of your blood still floating on it..

It's already night time when you hear the noises, like a piece of furniture falling against the floor. And against your better judgement, you walk, well, limp out of the room you were laying down in.

Turns out Simon and Price are not the only ones living in the sanctuary, and there is a third man called Kyle who was the one that bandaged up your foot and chin.

The ground trembles under your feet as you walk closer, each step you take letting you know with more certainty that the sound is coming from Johnny's tank. You see it before he sees you, standing in the shadows behind the glass door as the merman swims in circles.

Gaining inertia before slamming his body against the wall of the tank making it shake. You see his nostrils flare with his troubled breathing, the grills on his neck moving just as fast. It's such a worrying behaviour that your doctor brain makes you act on it before you can realise how stupid of a decision it is.

You turn the knob opening the door, barely managing to get a foot in before a deep voice startles you. “What th’ fuck did ye pour intae th’ water?! I'm fucking drowning!”

It takes you a second to realise it is the merman talking to you, muscular chest rising with each hard breath as his arms, big enough to crush a skull, hold his body over the water surface.

It also takes you a second to realise that what he means is the medicine in the water, the pungent taste of the chemicals probably making him struggle to breath as normal as before.

“It's the antibiotics.” You answer, almost mumbling. The lights from the tank making the water reflect into the walls in a beautiful imaginary that almost works to trick your brain into ignoring the danger. “For your tail.”

“My tail is perfectly fine! I dinnae need yer bullshit! I need tae go back!” He shouts back, slamming his fist on the metal like a petulant child.

“It is infected! If it enters your blood system you could die!” You shout back, setting both feet a step further into the tank.

“Lies! Human inventions! I'm perfectly fine!” The water splashes around his body when he waves his tail to push himself further out of the water.

“If you were fine you wouldn't stink of rotten fish!” Another step closer to him.

“I dinnae stink! That's just how I smell!” He sits on the gangway, pushing his body out of the water to do so, the massive tail that forms his lower body making the metal creak under his weight.

The sheer size of it doesn't stunt you, it being just proportional to the width of his upper body. But the scales that cover it, dazzling with the light of the reflections and looking like its own miniature sea. Speckles of blue, green and silver dancing around making it hard to look away from it, and making it impossible to miss the pink colour of the exposed meat. Not grey anymore.

“It is already looking better…” You explain, pointing to his wound as you keep walking closer. “You cannot tell me that it doesn't hurt less.”

He follows the direction you point at, quickly moving back so it is under the water; away from your gaze and making you frown at how little time you had to stare.

“That's just because time went by…” He says, almost mumbling and averting your gaze. “I need to go back.”

“Why?” You ask, the volume of your voice also lowering as you bend down to sit, crossed legged but with the injured one still sticking out. “Somebody waiting for you?”

“Yes!” He raises his voices once again, exasperated with your ignorance of his issues. “Everyone is fooling around, and next year when they all havd their wee bairns I'll be alone and I dinnae wantae! 'n' I cannae dae nothing about it cause a'm stuck here!”!”

His words slowly clicks into place, his eagerness to leave, the specially shiny scales, wandering outside of his territory. “It's mating season… mermaids have mating season?”

This is not the time to be asking these questions, you are here to help the merman heal not to study him like an aquarium specimen. But you can't help yourself to ask, only second guessing yourself when the merman looks at you like you just grew a second head. “Obviously… humans dinnae?”

You stare at him, thinking it thoroughly before answering. “Not… really, no.”

“And when do humans mate?”

“...anytime”

The disgust appears on his face as if you had just insulted him and everyone he has ever loved.

“Ye spend th’ whole year shagging, and then have the balls to call us beasts… hypocrites.”

“It's not like that!” You exclaim, suddenly afraid of disappointing the beautiful merman. There is a split second in with you remember every singles fable that talk about dangerous mermaids are, how they lure people in with pretty songs and prettier faces only to get eaten alive, how they trick sailor man to crash their boats in the rocks and then they have a feast on the corpses.

The alarm bell is loud and clear in your head, but just as easily it gets silenced when his wet warm hand lands on your injured foot, right under the bandages. He looks confused at it, eyebrows furrowed and slight pout on his lips.

You shouldn't let him grab you, last time he didn't drown you because Simon and Price picked you up. But you are alone now, and instead of pulling your foot back, you lean in, closer to the creature, and peel the bandages up, showing him the wound.

“I did this?” He asks, his fingertip grazing the skin surrounding the wound. You nod at him, your eyes glued to his face not wanting to lose a single expression of him. He furrows his eyebrows again, his hand moving to rest on the underside of your calf. “Humans are weak… I barely touched ye.”

“We are not weak… You just have sharp nails…” The sound of your voice makes him pull his gaze up, catching how you scratch the skin close to the wound of your chin, the sting from the stitches making you itch.

He pulls your leg again, softer this time, and it should worry you more with how much ease he is able to move you, with a grasp of your foot he easily slides you closer, leaving your feet hanging over the water.

He lays his hand flat beside your leg, propping himself up out of the water. With his arm completely stretched he towers over you, making you pull your head back so you can see his face. He looks down at you, cocking his head.

His other hand finds his way to your jaw, pulling your head even further back so he can see the wound on your chin. You can't see him with the new angle of your neck, but you can feel him get closer to your throat.

The feeling of his breath on the skin of your neck makes every hair on your body stand on end. The alarm bells ring in your head again, this man, as handsome as he is, is still an apex predator in the water that would be able to dismember you in seconds if he wanted to.

Still, and with that knowledge in mind, you have to bite your tongue to keep any tell-tale sounds from escaping you when you feel his face so close to yours.

"I dinnae do this one.... Are ye going to stick to yer theory that ye'r not weak? Or are ye just soft?" his deep voice murmurs, causing a shiver to travel down your spine.

His hand that was on your jaw moves down, resting on your thigh for a second before squeezing the soft flesh. Moving up slowly, dragging it over your skin to your hip, his thumb anchoring itself in the crease of skin between your thigh and your belly. Squeezing the flesh once more making you jump.

As his hand continues to move up, squeezing and whispering against your neck. "Soft... Soft from head to toe.... See? Soft, soft, soft..."

With each repetition of the word, he grabs a different part of your body. Your thigh, your hip, your tummy, your waist and it is when he reaches your chest, his hand wrapping around the soft flesh of your breast that he finally gets a sound to fall from your lips in the form of a faint moan of his name.

"What is it, my soft girl? I can feel yer pulse rising..... It's not fear, innit? Or something… else?" The whine that escapes your lips echoes against the walls of the tank, encouraging the merman in his movements.

The merman presses his wide body between your legs, forcing you to spread them apart to accommodate his width. And before you are able to form a full thought, about everything that is wrong with your actions; how morally wrong, how dangerous, what this could mean for your career... you feel the man's wide tongue travel from your collarbone to behind your ear, scorching your skin with the heat of his body.

Your hands grip his shoulders on impulse, feeling the strength leave your body as you feel him roll his hips against yours.

His assault on your neck continues, nibbling and licking until you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips. By the time you realise you are lying on the platform, opening your eyes to see the massive merman on top of your body with lust in his blue eyes.

You look down to where his hips are pressed against yours when you feel an unfamiliar weight over your pubic bone. Once again, a day's worth of interactions with this specimen is proving more productive than previous years of study, for the great unknown of how mermaids reproduce has just been revealed to you as you see the merman's member lying on your body.

And you are only aware of what kind of expression you have to have on your face when he speaks to you. "What's the matter, ye humans donnae have this either?"

"No, no, they have it, like... some do, but not so... like this.”

Once again, a deep chuckle drips from his chest making you look up to him as he looks down on where your pyjama shorts stick to your clothes when they get wet from the water dripping from his body. His fingertips bury themselves under the hem of your pants, trying to pull them down but grunting when he can't because his body is in the way.

He leans back, sinking back into the water and finally pulling your pants and underwear off, leaving you bare and exposed to him from waist down. You try to think of a reason as to why you seem so unbothered by his advances, it must be some kind of mermaid powers. The guy that took you on a date and asked to go to your home later? No. The guy you met online that asked to meet? iugh. But the merman on the tank that could ruin your career? Yeah, he's alright.

But mermaid powers or not, the way you feel his tongue lap at your soaked folds is very real and so is the whiny moan that falls from your lips. You feel him bury his face even deeper into your cunt, slurping the juices and moaning at the taste of them making you curl your toes. His hands move under your thighs, locking you in place so he can peacefully devour you.

Even though the man has no intentions of pulling back, you still grab the hair at the top of his head urging him closer which he happily complies making you moan softly. One of his hands moves closer to your cunt, dragging his claw over your skin making you shudder at the feeling.

You worry for a second that the merman will scratch you just like he did on your ankle, but instead he uses two fingers to spread your folds leaving you as exposed as he can before shoving his tongue into your entrance making you arch your back. The muscle dragging along the ribbed walls of your cunt, flooding his mouth with the taste of you.

A shameless whine escapes your lips when you feel him pull his face back, your grip on his head lacking all force. He coos at you, shushing your cries as he turns you on your stomach, keeping one of your knees bent as he slots himself behind you.

He props himself on an arm, keeping his chest flush against yours as his other arm hugs you pulling you impossibly closer to him as he rolls his hips to slide his already hardening dick between your folds, making you buck your hips to meet his movements. The heat of his wet body making you ache for more, to feel him closer, deeper.

You lower your hand, placing it between your legs and keeping his cock from moving forwards, making it sink into your welcoming walls. A harmony of moans filling the tank when he slowly sinks into you, the weight of his shaft inside of you feeling comforting in the cold of the tank.

The merman buries his face on the crook of your neck, biting softly your skin, just enough to feel you between his teeth as he moves his hips back, moaning at the feeling of your tight warm cunt sucking him back in.

He moans in tandem with you, a song of your voices accompanying the dance of your bodies. Everytime Johnny's hips move forwards, yours move back, the sound of skin slapping growing louder as his movements get faster.

Every snaps of his hips threaten to pull the air out of your lungs, leaving you unable to do anything else but moan at the feeling of his length hitting so deliciously deep while stretching your gummy walls to accommodate his girth.

“A'm gonnae tak' ye wi’ me once I'm out… would ye lik' that, bonnie lassie? Keep ye close, fucked ‘n’ dined, nae a single worry inside of that bonny head of yers but to take my big fucking cock as good as yer right now…” Every filthy word that leaves his lips, falling like melted honey into your ears making you clench around him, is accentuated with a snap of his hips making you bounce on his arms.

His arm that was hugging you moves lower, fingertips travelling down between your legs and rubbing tight circles over your clit making you whine as you close your eyes. You can hear his tail splash in the water with his movements, and you can tell when his thrust starts to become sloppier, almost losing the rhythm, but keeping it long enough for you to combust around his shaft.

He groans on your shoulder when your walls clench around his length like a vice, milking him for what he's worth, making hims moan against your skin as he keep moving his hips, slowly, letting the two of you ride out your orgasm as you try to get air back into your lungs.

Under the tank, on the underground level of the sanctuary and hidden in the shadows, three pairs of eyes see how Johnny kisses your shoulder softly.

“You know… I was feeling bad about dragging the poor girl into this mess, but… I don't think she minds it too much.” Gaz says, eyes glue to the two of you.

The thing is, that just like sailors knew that the earth was round long before anyone else; they also knew mermaids were real long before the rest of the world. But being able to communicate with one of the sea apex predators has its benefits, and negotiating with them usually translates to an improvement on the business.

And if the merman they accidentally run over with their boat says he wants a cute little partner to repopulate the north sea in exchange of pushing the fishes towards their fishing nets… they will get him a girlfriend to keep him happy.

After all, since humans always find a way to benefit from mermaids, it's only fair that mermaids benefit from humans too.

I hope you guys still wanted some mermaids, I don't know how it took me so long 🩷

Taglist: @crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z

@lyralein @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121

@spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @arbesa-mind @cmbghost

@multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles

@cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria

@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow

@loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger

@soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @thesinsoflust

@sodavrr @yuki2129 @idk-justkane @shanhalen @dukeofjjune

@vane28282 @dracu1ara @vivi2e @lordbugs @murder-hobo

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bluejeanstrash · 2 months

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tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, just a little light-hearted fluff of seungcheol being a dramatic whiny baby when he’s sick, mentions of dry scalp and skin picking lol, seungcheol is very whiny | wc: 742

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a classic cough and cold combo paired with a side of fever-related aches and pains — that was the diagnosis, not the life-threatening illness seungcheol was sure he’d contracted. he’d tried convincing you it was fast-spreading. like really fast. like it has taken over his body and has been shutting down his organs one by one for the past 6 hours fast.

‘i’m going to die. it’s not a joke anymore. i seriously feel like i’m going to die’ he tugs at the hem of your t-shirt as you clear up the mountain of tissues on the left bedside table, and then tugs again while you’re clearing up a pile of dishes on the right.

you sigh, ignoring him, and disappear into the kitchen to reappear with a fresh bowl of hot chicken soup ‘seungcheol, we’ve been over this already. you’re not going to die’

‘forget it! just get me my will. i have to make some last-minute changes’ he asks for it dramatically, draping a limp arm over his eyes.

‘you don’t have a will’ you blow on the hot soup in quick bursts before feeding him a spoonful.

‘ugh, never mind. it’s fine’ the will talk is waved off with a quick fan of the hand to make way for what he says next ‘they give everything to the spouse anyway. wait, do they?’

‘i don’t know, and we’re not married’ you remind him, stirring the hot liquid so the shredded chicken, his favourite part, rises to the top.

‘god, you’re right’ he sits up a little straighter and grabs your free hand, suddenly somber ‘do you take choi seungcheol to be your lawf-’

you force-feed him another spoonful to shut him up, a bit of it spilling onto the quilted blanket. the soup must’ve still been too hot because he lets out a little cry, whining, though it’s entirely possible he’s overreacting.

‘you’re not taking this seriously, i’m actually dying’

‘you’re not’

‘what do you know! you’re not a doctor!’ he grumbles, taking a moment to tell you he really likes the soup and really really appreciates you making it for him before continuing to rant.

‘yeah, and what about the actual doctor we called who said you’re not?’

‘he doesn’t know anything either, that hack. the people on the internet’ he picks up his phone from the bed, showing you a screenshot from some site you’re pretty sure is for hypochondriacs to confirm each other’s delusions, and taps on the screen ‘have told me i have less than 24 hours left. 24. 24!’

‘seungcheol, i can’t have this conversation with you anymore. seriously. you need to go to sleep’ you put the empty bowl aside, straightening, and then pulling the blanket up to cover him.

‘no, no, don’t leave. i want lap time’ he pouts, baby-talking his way into his third one of the day. you sit back down on the bed with a sigh as he repositions himself to lay on your lap, wriggling his head around until he’s comfy. your fingers slowly comb through his hair, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp to soothe him. in a slightly gross but domestic act, you pick a few bits of flaky skin out of his unwashed hair, flicking them away. you should wash it for him later, you think. he’d like that.

seungcheol always found the sensation of you picking at his scalp strangely comforting, and surprisingly quite sleep-inducing. minutes pass without a single sound.

it’s quiet. finally. or so you think.

‘if i die, you can’t date anyone for the next 10 years. at least’

‘what?!’ you jerk your thighs up, pushing him off your lap ‘10 years? you’re crazy’

he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

‘i was just being nice. you shouldn’t date anyone ever, but ohmygod, i can’t believe you want to be with someone else’ he presses his fingers to his temples, suddenly coming down with a headache.

‘so let me get this straight’ he continues ‘you’re telling me when i die tomorrow-’

‘you won’t’

‘-when i die tomorrow, you’re going to bring some other man to my funeral?!’ his cheeks now hot with a shade of distressed pink.

you’re not sure where he’s got that from but you’ve had enough. you get up, grabbing the bowl, and look him straight in the eye, pinching his cute little cheeks ‘well, it’s a good thing you’re not dying then’

you walk out, leaving him right there on the bed, hot and most definitely cold.

#scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #scoups #choi seungcheol #scoups drabble #seungcheol drabble #scoups x you #seungcheol x you

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sweatervest-obsessed · 8 months

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New Shade of Green

Pairing: Spencer x Reader (gn!)

WC: 2.7k

TW: implications of murder, serial killer talk, mentions of abuse, crying, anger, swearing <3, Men sucking so bad

a/n: This was a request, which you can see here. Jealous Spencer was so fun to write! Enjoy babes!!!

"Oh my god. Shut the fuck up! I didn't know you were the consultant for this case!" You hopped up out of your seat on the jet to greet the man you called your best friend.

His eyes lit up when he saw you, wrapping an arm around you, squeezing you tightly. "I assume you didn't read the text I sent you last week."

You laughed and pulled out of the hug slightly, hand still on his arm. "I never read anything you send me."

Spencer, whose hand you had abandoned when you got up to say hi to Oliver, was zeroed in on the fact that your hand was still on Oliver's arm, and Oliver's arm was still slightly wrapped around your waist.

"Team, this is Oliver Swerdanski, my best friend and specialist in classics--"

"Norse mythology specifically."

It was not lost on the team that you clearly had a type. Oliver was about 6 feet tall, in a sweater, and wearing wired glasses frames. He was slightly buffer than Spencer, but not as tall. (something Spencer noted the first time you had introduced the two)

The team nodded and said their hellos, more interested in the shifting dynamics of the plane since you hadn't left Oliver's side, opting to sit with him on the couch instead of your usual seat by the window, next to a certain green-faced Doctor.

The flight was going to be a long one.

Eventually, Derek felt terrible enough for Spencer that he stopped by you and Oliver on his way to get some coffee.

"So, Oliver, how long have you known our dear Y/N here."

Oliver smiled over at you with a glint in his eye that most of the profilers on the plane noticed. Except for you.

"Oh, well. We go way back."

You nodded enthusiastically, just happy to have the company of an old friend. "We were neighbors growing up--you could say he's my childhood best friend."

"That turned into one of your now best friends..."

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Don’t push it asshat.”

Derek smiled slightly, realizing this was going to be an interesting case “Well, it’s nice to meet you Oliver.”

He left the two of you alone, taking your abandoned seat next to Spencer, a slight smirk washing over his face as he did.

“Aren’t you the picture of joy this morning?”

“Not in the mood, Derek,” Spencer mumbled, staring intently out the window, trying not to let his jealousy get the better. It’s not like it mattered since he was surrounded by profilers who could read him like a book.

“What do you think of Oliver?”

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and Derek chuckled. “Good luck, kid.”

And with that, Derek left Spencer alone, knowing he had his plate filled with more than enough shit for however long this case would be.

And it didn’t help anything that you were completely oblivious to both men: both of them filled to the brim with envy of the other, having what they each thought the other had—your attention.

____________________________________________________________

Four years ago, Hotch had made you and Spencer share a bedroom, causing a chain of events to lead to the fact that you still share one now.

Three years of dating had made you feel very comfortable in your relationship; You loved Spencer Reid. This was not some passing affliction, it was simply a fact of the universe. You would move hell and earth if he asked you to.

But not right now. Right now? You kind of wanted to punch him. He was ignoring you, or at least that’s what it felt like. The car ride was completely silent. You could tell something was upsetting him, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure why he was so distant.

“Spence?”

“Hm?”

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong.”

He shrugged, effectively trying to murder the conversation before it even had the chance to live.

You frowned slightly, shifting in your seat slightly, and looking over at him.

“What’s going on?”

You heard him mumble something under his breath, unsure of what he was saying, but it just made you even more upset.

“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on with you?”

“I said. I’m fine.” Spencer huffed.

“Well, clearly you aren’t.”

“Believe whatever you want to fucking believe then.”

And that’s where the conversation ended, leaving you effectively lost. Especially since he wouldn’t hold your hand in the car ride back and then didn’t wait for you as he walked straight into the police station.

This was going to be a long case.

___________________________________________________________

And you were right.

Spencer ignored you at every chance he could. Even in the hotel room, he’d go to bed without you, no holding one another, no late-night talks, nothing. He would just get ready for bed in silence and then turn away from you.

And tonight, you couldn’t deal with it anymore. He had been ignoring you for over a week and now that it looked like the case was going to take longer, you couldn’t stand it. Instead of getting into bed, you grabbed your phone and wallet and stormed out of the hotel, slamming the door behind you.

You went down to the hotel bar and ordered yourself a tequila shot, downing it quickly before getting your regular drink.

Oliver slid into the seat next to you, hand on your arm.

“I haven’t seen you do tequila that fast since freshman year of college.”

You gave him a dry laugh and took another sip of your drink. “Desperate times.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really. I’m just. I’m aggravated.”

“Come on, babe, it’s me.” Oliver rubbed his hand up and down your arm. “You can always talk to me—so tell me what’s been going on. Boy troubles?”

You sighed. “It’s just…I don’t know what’s going on with Spencer. He’s barely said like three sentences to me since the case began, and clearly, he’s upset with me, but I have no fucking idea why since he’s being a stubborn ass and won’t talk to me. How the fuck am I supposed to fix something if he won’t even tell me what’s wrong.”

Oliver rubbed his thumb across your arm. It felt intimate because it was, but this was Oliver, who only had the best intentions for you, who you had known since you were a little kid.

“He sounds like a douche babe.”

You leaned away slightly, face becoming unrecognizable for a moment. “Okay, well, that’s not what I said. He’s clearly just upset abou—”

“You kinda did. He’s acting like you don’t exist, and clearly, he doesn’t care about how all of this is affecting you.”

You went to rebuttal his claims because Spencer would never be that callous; he’d never treat you like that. But he kind of was. “It’s only because something is wrong and…”

“So he treats you like this whenever he can’t communicate with you.”

“Well not…he doesn’t…” You were starting to doubt yourself, unable to keep up with the accusations.

“He doesn’t what. Because it sounds like you’re saying he treats you like shit when he gets upset with you…”

“What are you trying to insinuate? That he hits me? Oliv–”

“I’m just saying that behavior–”

What? Oliver, no. Stop twisting my words.”

“I’m not twisting your words; I’m just stating what I’m seeing.”

“What you’re seeing? You’ve been here for a week. You don’t know the past three years.”

“It’s been a week and he’s still treating you like this. And honestly, whenever I come around, he…” Oliver moved his hand to your thigh, causing you to frown deeply.

“Oliver. Step off.”

He shook his head. “You’re upset. And I want to help.”

You shoved his hand off your thigh and stood up. You left cash on the bar, standing up and moving away from Oliver.

Oliver watched as you walked away, frowning once you couldn’t see him anymore.

____________________________________________________________

The next morning, Spencer was woken up, and you were curled into his chest, sleeping soundly. He couldn’t move. He ghosted his lips over your forehead, causing you to stir slightly, clinging to him more.

“Morning.” He whispered to you.

You hummed and gripped a bit tighter to him. “Don’t go.”

Your voice broke Spencer’s heart a little bit. It’s not that he didn’t feel bad about the way he was treating you, it’s just that Oliver kept provoking him, making him turn greener every single time he saw Oliver talking to you.

“I wasn’t planning on it, sweetheart.”

“Oh so now we’re back to nicknames.” You grumbled into his chest. “I’m still mad at you.”

He signed and brushed your hair out of your face. “I’m sorry Y/N. Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

“You can make it up to me when we get home.”

“Deal.” He kissed your head again, just as your cell phone began to ring.

_________________________________________________________

After two grueling weeks on this godforsaken case, everyone was ready to get home.

The rest of the case caused serious tension for the group because the mythology was the only thing tying these murders together, and your geoprofile was all over the place, meaning these two killers were too good at what they were doing.

Once you had been shot at, and nearly grazed by a bullet, you would have expected Spencer to continue to speak to you, but all he did was stare at you from afar. It was infuriating.

You couldn’t get a read on him. For the rest of the week, he had been speaking to you, kissing you, holding your hand; then after checking on you while you were getting checked out, he stopped speaking to you.

The entire team watched you and Spencer shift back into the dynamic duo you were, functioning better than before. They watched as Oliver got more frustrated as you continued to ignore him unless it was a necessary part of the investigation. Maybe you had figured it out–they hoped you had.

Instead of trying to deal with even more bullshit, you opted to sit alone at the back of the plane, headphones on. It was one of those many unspoken rules about the plane that everyone knew not to disturb you while your headphones were on unless they wanted to get bitch slapped.

Well, everyone except for Oliver.

You were deep in thought, trying to mull over why Spencer wasn’t talking to you–both times– going over every scenario you possibly could and figuring out what changed during that first day.

Oliver got up, ready to go and talk to you, his intentions pretty clear from the look on his face, but Derek grabbed his arm, effectively yanking him back down into his seat.

“What the fuck man?”

“Don’t bug Y/N while they have headphones on.” If Spencer wasn’t going to stand up for you, then Derek absolutely was. Oliver might have been your best friend, but Derek was your family.

“It’s just music…”

“Yeah,” Hotch spoke up, not looking away from the report in his hands. “And no one wants to clean up your blood when you get murdered for trying to interrupt that music.”

“Look. As Y/n’s best friend, I’m outside of most of their rules–”

“I don't think so.” Derek stood up, fully ready to restrain this man.

“What the fuck is going on.” You had stood up, and turned around, headphones out of your ears, and my god did you look fucking pissed off. “I don’t know why is everyone arguing so loudly, but if we could keep the volume at a fucking minimum that would be fan-fucking-tastic.”

The team stared back at you, except for Hotch who just had a slightly amused look on his face as he filled out paperwork. You glared at Oliver and Derek, who were standing opposite of you. “Can I help you two or…”

Derek shook his head. “Go back to your music. We’re sorry.”

“Thank you.” You grumbled to the group, sliding your headphones back over your ears, attaching a ‘sorry’ to the group as you did so. You moved further back on the plane, sitting on the couch, glaring at anyone who looked at you.

This has been a stressful two weeks for you. Oliver was acting all weird all of a sudden, –causing you to reevaluate your entire relationship with him, considering he was trying to make Spencer sound like a villain. And then Spencer, acting like a villain and ignoring you all week, then acting like nothing happened, and then ignoring you again for another twenty-four hours. You couldn’t take it anymore. And, on top of all of this, you had lost two more victims to the unsub, because one of the killers worked in the station, using his knowledge to avoid the BAU.

You were overwhelmed and frustrated, and you just wanted some peace and quiet. Was that too much to ask for?

“I should go apologize–” Oliver didn’t move to sit back down.

Spencer stood up and shoved past Oliver, moving to sit on the couch with you, causing you to raise your eyebrows at him.

“Can I help you?”

Spencer shrugged and opened his book, knowing you’d rather have whatever conversation he was willing to have now, in private. He opted to just read and be in your company. It was easily recognizable as the beginning of an apology, and you would take it. You maneuvered so your back was up against his arm, initiating the amount of touch you were willing to have, but also not crossing a line.

The plane ride was silent the rest of the way.

______________________________________________________________________________

“I’m sorry for this w–the past two weeks really. I-I’ve been really in my own head and–”

You let out a hefty sigh, tossing your keys on the counter and your bag down next to the door. Spencer followed suit, closing the door behind the two of you as you went into the kitchen to put on the kettle to make some tea.

“Are you going to tell me what was going on? What the fuck happened?”

He sighed back at you, grabbing your hand and pulling you into a hug.

And while you muttered your displeasure, you didn’t move away from him at all, opting to grouchily mumble in his ear, while Spencer ran his thumb up and down your back, listening to you mumble.

“I–god Spence. You just dropped me like all week, and then suddenly—”

“I-I know. I was awful. I’m so so sorry.”

“That’s not an explanation.” You mumbled into his chest.

“I….” Spencer swallowed whatever sort of pride he thought he would be saving and opted to tell you. “I…It was Oliver, and-and the way you were treating him, an-and you sat next to him on the plane and he was touching you and he was constantly holding you and stealing your attention away and—”

You pulled away slightly to get a look at your boyfriend. “Spencer Reid, were you jealous?”

He cursed under his breath and rolled his eyes.

You placed a soft kiss on his neck, causing him to hum. “You have nothing to be worried about Spence. You are it for me. No one can change that, especially not Oliver.”

Spencer looked down and smiled again. You smiled back at him, pulling him to you for a kiss.

It was recentering your universe. Everything was the way it should be–your lips on Spencer's, his hands around his waist, and a glowing sunset peering through your windows.

The kettle whistled loudly, causing the two of you to jump apart, startled at the sound.

“That was a good start, Spence. Once I finish my tea, you can show me how else you can keep making it up to me.” You smirked slightly, turning around to take the kettle off of the stove and grab the tea and mugs.

Spencer has never been so excited to drink a cup of tea, and honestly, neither had you.

#x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader angst #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x gn!reader

1K notes · View notes

avis-writeshq · 4 months

Note

omg omg please for track four of your event 🙈 we know that sparks fly!reader calls spencer ‘Walter’ but can we get the first time he calls her ‘angel’ please???? 💕💕

l.d.s.k – spencer reid [bonus 'sparks fly' chapter]

summary: in other words, the first time spencer calls you an angel pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff warnings: rated 15+ for general criminal minds violence, canon compliant with s1 e6 ‘L.D.S.K’, a hint of Derek slander oops, not beta read wc: 2.2k a/n: many many apologies for the delay anon! i hope this can live up to your expectations! sparks fly masterlist | event page

“Reid failed his qualification,” Elle tells you as she makes her way into the bullpen looking flawless as ever.

Her words bring you out of your daily crossword puzzle, your brows furrowing. “He failed?”

“Well, he can re-test in two weeks,” Gideon says dismissively, making his way over to the water dispenser.

Elle shrugs, craning her head to look at him. “They took his gun this morning,” she replies. She looks back over. “Be gentle.”

“I’m always gentle,” you tell her, harshly erasing a wrong answer in your puzzle. “Was that not already obvious?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Elle responds swiftly, her gaze set on Derek’s forehead.

Derek is quick to raise his hands in surrender, but the glimmer of amusement sparks in his eyes. You narrow your own just as Spencer comes walking through the glass doors with Gideon following behind him. The young doctor looks dejected as ever, the grip he has on the strap of his bag so tight that his knuckles blanche.

He slumps down onto his desk beside you, turning the computer on with a scowl. You open your mouth to say something, an attempt of making him feel better, but Derek beats you to it.

“We’re all here for you,” Derek says, noticing the way Spencer avoids his gaze. “I’m serious.”

It starts off well. Spencer finally begrudgingly looks Derek in the eye, an unimpressed look on his face.

“If you ever need anything,” Derek continues, fishing something out of his pocket. You lean over the desk divider to get a better look, but apparently you don’t need to. A shrill whistle sound fills the air, and Morgan snickers in jest. “Just blow on that.”

Spencer’s face falls into a stern frown as he hurries to rip the whistle off his neck, throwing it onto his desk.

You try once more to offer any form of condolences but your efforts are once again cut off by JJ carrying a stack of manila folders and passing them off to the team. You don’t pay much attention to what she’s saying (something about a shooting and three victims?), your gaze fixed on Spencer’s troubled face. The others rattle off about long distance serial killers and profiling, and you can’t help but feel a little bad for your lack of contribution, but your thoughts are filled with more pressing matters.

After the briefing and Hotch saying a simple, “Wheels up in twenty”, you turn in Derek’s direction as you stuff your bag with files and random pieces of stationary. Elle sits within earshot, packing her own things.

“Why are you so mean to him?” Your voice carries no malice and you don’t look in his direction at all, head down as you furrow through your go-bag.

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“To Spencer,” you clarify, “like, just now. He was already in a bad mood. You didn’t really have to say much else.”

“I’m just… toughening him up,” Derek says with a shrug.

“This job would do that by itself. Spencer doesn’t need to ‘toughen up’, and this job doesn’t need your help to do that, either.” You lift your shoulder noncommittally. “I think you’re just insecure.”

Elle cackles at that, stifling her laughter behind her fist while Derek snaps his head in your direction. “Alright then, I’ll bite. How am I insecure?”

“You’re a classic alpha male, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but you’re an alpha male who is in a work environment where almost every other man is also an alpha male. Spencer is the opposite; he’s more timid which, again, not a bad thing, and he’s also more intellectually gifted.” A wry smile spreads across your face as you hoist your bag off your desk and sling it over your shoulder. “You’re insecure that he’s smarter than you and because he’s the quote-un-quote ‘weakest’ of the pack, you just can’t help but pick on him.”

“Reid and I are friends,” Derek says defensively. “And come on, you can’t tell me that you don’t his ramblings a little bit annoying.”

You hum. “I don’t find them annoying. Even if I did, I wouldn’t cut my friends off when they’re talking about something they find interesting.”

Spencer doesn’t mean to eavesdrop. He swears that it was never his intention– he just forgot his wallet on his desk after everything that happened that morning. Regardless, hearing you defend him in such a way is enough to make his stomach flip.

He’s barely known you for two years. He joined the team a little after you did, granted, he was a permanent addition to the team while you at the time was just interning as a part of the course you were taking. It was only after a very long discussion with Hotch that you became a solid member of the BAU (you told Spencer all of this while you shook out your hands and by extension the nerves you experienced when you were seated in front of your boss’s desk with your resume. It took everything in him to not grab onto your hands and hold them firmly in his).

Even when you were an intern and only at work two out of the five workdays, Spencer was able to find solace in you. He didn’t really understand the logistics of it, much to his chagrin, but he has chalked it up to you being a little younger than him and feeling that slight twinge of ‘protectiveness’ over you. It doesn’t make sense, he gathers upon second thought, you don’t need protecting. Despite that, he finds himself gravitating to you as if you were the earth and he was the moon. You, full of life and all things wonderful, and him, a dim light that he hopes could brighten up your darkest nights.

He doesn’t think that that comparison is accurate enough, is the conclusion he comes to when he hears you chastise Derek for his lack of compassion. It isn’t so much ‘chastising’ as it is stating a fact. Spencer thinks you’re an angel and that everyone should kiss the floor you walk on. His head spins with facts about angels and their origins. He mumbles the facts under his breath, considering all the different backgrounds of angels and the connotations of viewing you as such. Spencer scrunches his nose in annoyance. He’ll be thinking about this the entire flight.

***

You sit next to him during the flight. Your hands are in your lap as you fiddle with your fingertips, almost as if you’re contemplating something. Spencer glances at you expectantly from the corner of his eye, ignoring the book he is supposed to be reading.

“I know I shouldn’t really have to say this, but don’t worry about Derek,” you tell him through a hushed whisper. “He’s just being an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Spencer says, trying to not look fazed about the situation. “I know.”

You shift again in your seat before playfully flipping his collar upwards. “I like this shirt on you. Red is totally your colour.”

He thinks it’s pathetic, the way his eyes light up and the way he physically preens at your compliments. “There have been studies on the colour red and how it may impact one’s perceptions of others. Actually, it has been found that seeing the colour red can cause an elevation in blood pressure, enhanced metabolism, and a spike in heart rate which are all physiological changes associated in increased energy levels. Another study showed that those who wear red are perceived to be more sexually appealing than those who wear other colours.”

His cheeks flare in embarrassment upon realising the insinuation of his words and he hurriedly backtracks. “Not that I was expecting anything! It was just interesting and–”

“Walter, it’s fine.” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “It’s okay! You’re right, it is interesting.”

Spencer doesn’t think you’re an angel anymore. He knows it. He manages to crack a smile. “You think so?”

You nod enthusiastically, looking over at him. “Tell me more.”

He thinks that he might faint.

***

The hospital is under lockdown. Your head spins when you see SWAT making their way through the lobby, armed in heavy bulletproof uniform and guns that are at least half your height. You’ve never had to work a situation where they had to be called and the severity of the situation sinks in.

“Hotch and Spencer will be okay, right?” You ask worriedly, glancing over to where Gideon is trying to negotiate with the captain.

“They’re good at what they do,” JJ reassures gently, squeezing your arm. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Gideon returns with a disgruntled frown, gesturing with annoyance towards the SWAT team. “They’re taking the ER in three minutes.”

“That’s it?” Your words are quiet as you try not to attract the attention of the people in said team. “So, what, Hotch and Spencer need to talk down a crazy armed sociopath in three minutes?”

“It’s like they don’t even want our help,” Elle says through a grumble. “What’s the point of asking us here if they’re not even going to listen to us?”

Somehow, those three minutes are both the longest and shortest three minutes of your life. There’s nothing you can do except wait and even then, the hospital is borderline silent. You’re not necessarily sure if that’s a good thing. You watch with the others as SWAT trek up the stairs in formation, and you wring your hands out nervously. Time continues to tick by and just when you’re sure that you’ll be stuck here for the next however many hours, a loud bang rings through the hospital. It’s so sudden that you jolt on the spot, your head snapping towards the door.

A few civilians, all accompanied by SWAT agents, make their way through the doors and towards the ambulances stationed outside. You follow them out, taking in a breath of fresh night air while a shiver runs down your spine from the cool breeze. Everything seems to be in order and everyone seems to be calm and collected. That must be a good sign, right?

Spence grimaces from his spot on the back of an ambulance, rubbing at his lower torso. The pain isn’t that bad anymore, but it does feel a little raw from where Hotch repeatedly kicked him. His face is bruised from where Phillip Dowd hit him with the back of his rifle. The gun he used feels heavy in his pocket and he genuinely isn’t used to it being there.

“You alright?” Hotch asks. He’s using a softer tone, one that Spencer isn’t particularly accustomed to.

Spencer nods, his arms crossed over his stomach. “Yeah.”

“Nice shot.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “I was aiming for his leg.”

Hotch looks a little amused before he continues, “I wouldn’t have kept kicking but I was afraid you didn’t get my plan.”

“I got your plan the minute you moved the hostages out of my line of fire,” Spencer says genuinely, nodding.

“Well, I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly,” Hotch says guiltily.

Spencer can’t help but laugh quietly. “Hotch, I was a twelve year old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school. You kick like a nine year old girl.” He pauses, offering the gun back to him.

“No, keep it,” Hotch says, patting Spencer squarely on the shoulder. “As far as I’m concerned you passed your qualification.”

Spencer offers a smile as his boss walks away, his gaze meeting yours as you hurry over to him. “Hey–”

“Walter, your face,” you lament with a frown, reaching a hand out to brush against the bruising.

Spencer flinches, hissing softly and you pull back. “It’s still a little sore.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, glancing again at his injuries, worry laced in your tone and etched upon your features.

“You’re an angel,” Spencer says softly in a daze, watching the way the flashing lights from the ambulance.

Heat travels up towards your cheeks at his words and you press the backs of your hands against your face in an attempt to calm yourself down. “I’m not an angel.”

He’s in too deep to try and backtrack so he nods. “You are,” he says honestly, looking up at you from where he sits on the ambulance. “And if you can call me by my middle name, doesn’t that mean I can give you a nickname too?”

“Well, I guess,” you relent, your heart still aching at the sight of the bruise on the side of his face.

He beams at you as he pockets the gun. “Alright, then, angel.”

Your cheeks grow hot again and this time you feel the blood rush to your ears. “It’ll take a while to get used to it.”

He laughs. “But you’ll get used to it.”

“I heard what you did in there,” you say swiftly, effectively changing the subject. “You don’t need that whistle anymore.”

Spencer nods and smiles. “Yeah. Thanks, angel.”

“Anytime, Walter.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

sparks fly masterlist | event page

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reiderwriter · 11 months

Text

The Lightbulb Moment

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff but a little bit suggestive at the end.

Summary: You want Spencer all to yourself for the first few months of your relationship and he's only too happy to comply. Unfortunately, you're two dumbasses who can't keep their hands off one another.

Word Count: 4.8k (I love idiots in love...)

Warnings: secret relationship, mentions of hickeys, kissing and heavy petting but no actual smut (a little suggestive and fade to black). Minor character is a misogynist prick and gets his nose broken, though.

A/N: I need everyone to know that this is absolutely inspired by the very first episode of OHSHC. I don't think I will elaborate further. This is also my first fluff, so if you want to see more like this my requests are open!~

My Masterlist✨

Walking into the BAU’s Quantico offices was a simple part of your daily schedule. You usually drove your car from your house to the parking complex, took the elevator up to your floor, put your bag down on your desk and moved immediately to the office kitchen to make yourself an appropriately large mug of coffee. Today, however, you drove your car from Spencer’s apartment, after quite the pleasant night together. The two of you had agreed weeks before to keep your relationship as private as you could.

Which meant that you were now in the office, trying your best to hide both your hickeys and your micro-expressions in a room that was about to fill up with extremely observant FBI profilers.

The turtle-neck sweater was a classic but effective aid, and when paired with the piping hot mug of coffee you were making yourself, you were hoping to feign an oncoming cold of some kind to escape any scrutiny. Spencer had left an hour earlier than you, knowing that it took him longer to commute alone on the metro than it took you in your car, which was probably the best thing for the two of you right now, as after last night, you wanted the whole undivided attention of his hands and his mouth on you.

Taking one last deep breath you walked into the office, and were greeted by the sight of two more new arrivals, your beautiful boyfriend and SSA Derek Morgan. Thankfully, the marks you’d left on Spencer's back the night before were easy to hide under his usual sweater-vest-shirt combo, as he'd probably have a harder time explaining those away. You wrapped your work blazer a little tighter around you and made your way to your desk.

“That’s a big cup of coffee you got there, angel. You have a long night?” Morgan says as you sit down in your seat, trying your best to look at anything but Spencer.

“A long night with a bottle of nyquil and three layers of blankets, if that’s what you mean, yeah.” You shoot back, praying he takes the bait.

“Aww, that sucks sweet-pea. If you need anything, let our resident Doctor know, I’m sure he’ll do his best to make sure you're in peak physical condition once again.” Morgan mocks the younger male, before walking off to his desk.

You happen a glance over at Spencer, and he’s sporting the cutest little blush you’ve ever seen, not needing to hide his embarrassment at the insinuations of his friend.

The two of you share a quick glance, but don’t have to say much else when Hotch walks out of his office announcing there’s another case.

“Meeting room in ten, wheels up immediately after, we've got a serial in Washington State that requires our attention.”

You sigh in relief knowing that a case will be a great way to distract you from somehow messing this up and you grab your stuff and head to the meeting room. Before you can get there though, Rossi cuts you off at the door.

“A word of advice, if I may,” he says, letting your other team members pass in front of him on their way into the briefing before grabbing your attention.

“Sure, why not?” You reply, curious about what the man has to say.

“I’ve never heard of a cold that causes bruising behind your ear. I’d suggest you take yourself and your make-up bag to the bathroom to cover that up.”

You feel yourself grow hot. You’d thought you’d got them all covered with the turtleneck but you had a limited range of vision. Cursing under your breath, you tried to explain to your senior coworker but again he cut off before you could.

“No, I’m not gonna say anything else. Just tell the kid to keep it classy next time, if your gonna wine and dine a lady, you don’t need to make her neck dessert.” You blanched now, all of your previous redness running out of your body.

“You know?”

“I’m very good at my job. However, whatever this is is none of my business, so please, don’t make it my business again any time soon, okay?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll just go down now. Could you-” you gestured vaguely to the meeting room where all your close coworkers were taking their seats, and the older man smiled back at you.

“Consider it done.” You thanked your lucky stars that it was Rossi who had spotted it first, and made a mental note to send Spencer a quick message before you got on the jet.

Y/N: Busted by Rossi. Next time, don’t go full vampire on me. Okay Doc? That was like getting the talk from my dad, but somehow worse.

–X–

After a week in Washington, you wrapped up your case fairly quickly. The flight was long, so you were very much looking forward to finishing the documentation for the case and heading back to your apartment for some much needed alone time with Reid.

The entire week you’d been in the field interviewing witnesses and suspects, and he’d been stuck inside making geographical profiles and aiding Garcia with undigitized file information. It hadn’t helped things that you’d ended up stuck sharing rooms, you with Emily and JJ in one room and him sharing with Hotch, of all people, so you couldn't even sneak out at night to meet each other without arousing suspicion.

It had taken all of your strength not to climb onto the long bench next to him on the Jet and just melt into him, letting the long journey ahead lull you into some much needed sleep. You forced yourself to the other end of the jet, picking up a blanket you’d stored there previously and forcing yourself to shut your eyes.

When you landed, you practically launched yourself off the plane, so eager to get back to your car and drive all the way to your house. But fate had other ideas.

“Everyone, take the rest of the day off, but I want to see you bright and early monday morning working on the required paperwork. Reid, Y/L/N, can you stick around for an extra ten minutes? I just have some supplementary questions I need to ask you.” Hotch announced to the team and you felt your freedom escaping from you once again.

You made it calmly to Hotch’s office, following both your boss and your boyfriend, unsure of where this conversation was going to go.

You sat down on the sofa, and watched as Hotch pulled out two sets of documents.

“I’m not asking questions, and frankly I don’t want to know. But this is standard for all workplace relationships, so I need you to fill out these forms and submit them back to me ASAP.” He said the words calmly, but you felt the panic rise in your chest.

“Did Rossi say something to you?” Spencer managed to recover quicker than you could, neither confirming nor denying your entanglement to your boss.

“No, actually…” Hotch seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure of whether to continue or not. “You talk in your sleep, Reid. You talk quite loudly in your sleep.”

Your head snapped up to your boyfriend and you came face to face with a look of mortification. You heard him mumble a curse under his breath, before he grabbed the papers from Hotch, handing you one quickly.

You filled them out in silence as quickly as possible, trying to not let the blush on your face deepen, and entirely grateful that Hotch was busy ignoring that the conversation had ever happened now, back at his desk filling out his own paperwork.

Spencer grabbed your papers from you when you were finished, put them together with his silently on the older man’s desk, grabbed your hand and swiftly walked you out of the office.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Y/N, I’m used to sharing the room with Morgan and you know he sleeps like the dead.” He apologised, but the look on his face was so cute, you couldn’t help but tease him.

“I’ll forgive you on one condition,” you smirk up at him. “You have got to tell me exactly what that dream was about. I'm very curious”

–X–

After both Rossi and Hotchner had guessed at the nature of your relationship within the space of a week, you were a bit on edge around the office. But a month of busy cases (and thankfully no more room sharing incidents) had restored your confidence in your lying capabilities. You almost felt guilty now, hiding the best part of your life from some of the most important people in your life. But you chose to keep being selfish, knowing that the side of Spencer that you were witnessing now was yours and yours alone.

Basically, you grew over-confident, and when you grew over-confident, you grew sloppy.

After coming back from a particularly rewarding case, a stalking case that you managed to solve before the unsub could turn from attempted murderer to murderer, you went out to celebrate with the team. Hotch and Rossi had begged off again, and Morgan had excused himself because he was giving a self-defence talk the next day at Quantico and didn’t want to show up still suffering from the night before.

So, at the behest of Emily and Garcia, you found Reid was swiftly uninvited, and the team celebration turned into a Girls’ Night Out. It had been a while since you’d been able to let loose, having spent practically every weekend between yours and Reid’s apartments, so you were determined to make the most of the night.

You blame Garcia really. JJ had survived two rounds, but had retreated back to her husband and child when she saw the drinking getting out of hand. Emily had been on virgin drinks the entire night, because she’d drawn the short straw and ended up the designated driver.

Which left you and the wonderful Penelope Garcia going toe-to-toe, or more realistically, tequila-to-tequila as you not so healthily egged each other on. By 1am, Emily had to make the executive decision to put Garcia in a taxi, knowing she would at least be able to function on her own, whilst you were sat like a little mess in the other woman’s arms.

“Emillleeeee!” You giggled as the brunette helped you into her car. “You’re sooooo strong, Emileeeeeeeeee. I love you, y'know.”

“Yeah, Y/N. I gathered that the last time you told me.” She laughed back at you, knowing that she was going to absolutely let you know everything that was said and done that night in the morning.

“Wanna know whoz also realllllllly strong?” You giggled and slapped your hands over your mouth like a schoolgirl talking about her crush.

“Oh, yeah? Go ahead and tell me.”

“Ssspencer,” you said his name and your entire face flushed, “Spencie is really strong.”

Emily rolled her eyes at you, assuming for the time being that you were too drunk to understand what you were saying.

But her reaction obviously didn’t satisfy your drunk self enough, because you pouted a little and then continued.

“Sss true! He’s so strong when he lifts me up and holds me against the wall, it’s so fuckin gooood, Emilleeeeee.”

“Y/N! You're talking about Reid here, I doubt the boy could even hold a girl's hand without breaking a sweat. Let's go get you to bed." She shot back in disbelief.

“You don’t believe me? He is strong, look I can show you the bruises he left on my hips the last time we-”

“OH MY GOD, please stop talking.” Emily cut you off before she heard something she really didn’t want to hear. Still half in disbelief, thinking you were just so far into your cups you’d reached the horny level of alcoholism, she pulled into your apartment complex and quickly helped you out of the car.

“Emilleeeee, don’t leave me!!” You giggled out as she practically frog-marched you to your front door, having commandeered your keys earlier. Before she had the chance to use them however, the door was swinging open, and there was Spencer, in the door, realising he’d just made a huge mistake.

"Would you believe me if I said I were explicitly for work purposes?" He stuttered hopefully, seeing the shell-shocked look on his coworkers face.

“Oh god, she wasn’t lying, was she?” Emily managed to eke out in horror, the thought of the man who was practically her little brother doing anything sexual with anyone sending shivers down her spine.

He didn’t have to reply, however, because you chose that exact moment to launch yourself at your boyfriend wrapping your legs around his waist as he did his best not to tumble over, as your mouth started working its way down his throat.

“Shit,” he grunted out, still unsure about how to handle the situation. “Emily, let’s just pretend you never saw this, deal?”

“Yeah, okay, I think I can do that.” She turned away swiftly, but turned back to add on one final statement, looking almost impressed.

“You know I really didn’t think you were strong enough to do all of that. Huh, wonders abound.”

–X–

Your devastating hangover the next day saved you from the embarrassment of reliving the more scandalous details of your Girls’ Night adventures, but on the parts that Reid filled you in on, you were mortified to say the least.

“I fucked up so bad,” you groaned in pain the next morning in bed with Spencer.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he did his best to reassure you, but you silenced him with one look. “Okay maybe it was that bad, but Emily isn’t going to say anything. So we just continue as usual, right?”

You groaned again, but said no more and burrowed your face further into your partner's chest, hoping that the painkillers he’d bought you earlier that morning would take you out of your misery soon.

But there is no rest for the wicked and not even an hour later you find yourself in an FBI vehicle heading to a police station.

Your sour mood is noted by every single one of your coworkers, but evidently not some of the locals that you’re working with on the case in question. You notice them gawking at the female members of your team almost immediately as you walk into the precinct, and once again you wish you were back in bed away from these creeps. Can a girl not get some peace and quiet on a Saturday morning?

One of them in particular seems hellbent on making his harassment of the three of you a full time fucking job. He gives up on JJ quickly when she mentions her son (“asshole,” you think to yourself), and when he realises that Emily is a bit too dominant for him, he quickly loses interest in her too (“coward”). Which leaves him with all the time in the world to dedicate his energy to you.

“Hey, sweetcheeks, anything you need a big strong man to help you with?” The officer smiles down at you, practically begging you to punch him in the face.

Luckily, his sleeziness doesn’t go unnoticed by both Reid and Morgan, and they make sure to keep you within earshot the entire day, the three of you reading up on the victims' backgrounds whilst your other coworkers head to the crime scene.

“Sorry, chump, if I needed the help of a strong man, there's about five people I’d call before you - and two of them are women.” You shoot back, unwilling to stomach the bullshit of a uniform when you’re trying to do your job.

“Easy now, pretty lady, very high tension today, aren’t we?” He smirks down at you, hand on your chair, almost the perfect distance away for you to headbutt, but you choose to ignore him looking back down at your work. He backs off slightly before trying again.

“Come on now, I’m sure I could do something about that. Maybe fuck that tension right out of you?" And that’s your last straw.

Morgan almost prides himself on having the foresight to grab you before you can launch yourself at the man, ready to scratch his eyes out if he takes it even one step further. What he didn’t see coming at all was Reid throwing the punch first, connecting directly with the chauvinistic officer's nose and flooring him.

“Son of a bitch, I'm not sure I know any woman who'd want to touch you with a ten-foot pole, much less my fucking girlfriend." He seethes out, and Morgan is almost too stunned to speak. He releases you from his grip, and you run to Reid, making note of the way you instantly slot into Reid’s arms, like you were meant to be there.

“Damn pretty boy, nice hit,” is all he can get out, still a little shocked that the two of you had managed to hide this from him for so long.

“You bwoke my noise…” the officer rolled on the floor in pain.

“You’re lucky it was me and not her. And for the record, she's only 'high-tension' because we got interrupted this morning to come and help your sorry ass with a case,” Spencer seethed at the man, only now noticing that his knuckles weren’t faring too well either.

“As entertaining as this is, that's enough, Reid. You take your man and clean him up, Y/L/N, I got this one here, okay?” Morgan swiftly gave you orders, and you let out a sigh of gratitude, knowing that Morgan was going to make sure you got minimal reprimands for this.

“Oh and by the way you two,” he smirked at you a little as you made your way out. “Congratulations.”

–X–

In the name of keeping your relationship to yourself, the two of you had, so far, nearly gotten suspended, filled Emily in on some of the raunchier parts of your sex life, and accidentally shared some of those same details with your Unit Chief to boot. Your only saving grace was that, because you’d sworn everyone to secrecy, and they all seemed to pride themselves on smuggly keeping the information to themselves, they hadn’t started using you as an office-wide conversation started just yet.

All-in-all though you’d needed some time out of the office to relax for a bit, so when JJ came to you at the last minute with a plea for help asking for you to possibly babysit Henry the next night, you’d gladly accepted. Babysitting may seem like a lot of work, but seeing that little angel's face only brought you peace of mind, despite his mother’s protestations that he was only that well behaved for other people.

You were honestly looking forward to spending the night playing with the kid, and you decided it was about time you showed him some classic kids movies, as you packed both Toy Story and The Lion King ready for a fort film night! You were so excited, in fact, that you forgot your previous arrangement with Reid.

“Hey, Y/N, about ready to go? Thanks again for agreeing to carpool out with me tonight, you know how crowded the metro gets on friday nights.” He winks at you, using your regular cover for your biweekly date night, as your stomach drops.

“Oh god, Spencer I totally forgot. I told JJ I’d watch Henry for her tonight, so I’m heading there straight after work so I can watch him whilst she gets ready for dinner with Will.” You guiltily look up at the man whose face has fallen into the most adorable pout you’ve ever seen.

“Oh, hey, no problem, it’s okay, tell Henry I said hello.”

Overhearing this, and seeing her friend's obvious disappointment, JJ jumped into the conversation quickly.

“Hey, why don’t you come over as well, Spence? Henry’s been saying he missed his Uncle Spencer, and I was going to order a pizza for Y/N anyways, if you want that?” She suggested, looking between the two of you.

“I bought movies as well?” You added, hoping desperately that he’d say yes, even if you weren’t acting the most subtle about your feelings for him.

“Sure, thanks for that JJ. Let me just grab my jacket.”

Four hours later and the two of you were all played out. You’d entertained incessantly for the first hour, Henry desperately excited to show both of you each and every toy he’d acquired since you’d last been at his house. When the doorbell rang and the pizza arrived, he hadn’t lost steam, and it took you putting on the first of your movies of the night to get him to drop his toys and focus on the pizza and the plot.

And of course, you’d gone and promised him two movies at the beginning of the night, so after wrestling him into pyjamas and making him brush his teeth, you were finally resting again on the sofa. Reid sat at one end, you at the other, with Henry’s sleeping head in your lap, you stroking the little guy's hair.

“I think, and don’t quote me on this, that he’s asleep now, Y/N.” Spencer whispered to you over the movie.

“I know, he just looks so comfortable I don’t want to move him.” You pout at him, looking down at the sleeping angel in your arms.

“Hey, it’s not fair he’s getting all of your attention.”

“Spencer Reid, are you telling me you're jealous of a child right now?” You asked him in a mockingly shocked tone as he stood up from his side of the couch and came closer to you, placing one hand on the arm rest beside you and the other on the couch cushion behind you, effectively boxing you in.

“If I say yes, will you stroke my hair like that?” He smiled down at you, closing the distance between the two of you and giving you the softest sweetest kiss you could have asked for.

When he pulls back you find your lips following his, wanting more, but he just laughs at you and pulls Henry out of your arms, cradling him softly as he carries him upstairs to bed as you think to yourself that you’d do anything to see that scene every night of your life.

On Monday morning, JJ pulls you aside to thank you again, bringing you some of the chocolates she knows you like to show you her appreciation.

“He was a little angel, JJ. A bit energetic and excited but he was so sweet and sat with me the entire way through the movie before he fell asleep.” You gushed about the baby, happily holding your gift.

“You know that little angel did ask me something pretty interesting at breakfast the next morning.” JJ smiles at you, and you encourage her to keep going.

“He asked me if mommy and daddy kiss because they love each other, and so of course we said yes, that we love each other very much, and you know what he said after that?” She laughed a little, and you could feel your cheeks getting hot as you knew you’d been busted once again.

“He said that he was happy because that meant Uncle Spencer and Auntie Y/N must love each other a lot, too.”

You covered your blushing cheeks, not even trying to stammer out a response, knowing that JJ had probably interrogated little Henry about what he’d seen when feigning sleep the weekend before.

“Relax, Y/N, no harm done. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re good for him. He seems a lot,” she paused to think of the right word before continuing, “a lot more like himself than I’ve seen him in a long time.”

You try to hold in the tears that threaten to spill from the touching words, as you stammer out a small thank you.

Another team member knew now, but that had to have been the most successful way you'd revealed your relationship to date.

--X–

This had to have been the worst way you’d revealed your relationship to date.

It was a slow day of office work in the BAU with no consultation case coming up just yet. And with the majority of your paperwork done, you really were just trying your best to stay entertained around the office before you could clock out and go home.

So when you received a message from Spencer that read “copy room down the hall, five minutes,” your interest was piqued enough to make you run there immediately, not even waiting for the appointed time.

You opened the door slightly and a hand shot out and pulled you in so quickly that you almost lost your balance, your hands pushing up against Spencer’s chest as he slammed the door shut as quietly as possible.

“And what are we doing here, Doctor Reid?” You smirked up at him as you felt his arms tighten around your waist, his hands trailing up and down your back before coming to rest a little lower than before.

“Thought you could use a midday pick me up.” He smirked back leaning down to connect your lips, slowly at first, but gaining a feverish speed.

You were only so happy to give back just as you gave, your hands finding their way up to his hair, pushing your chest forward and up against his own, needing to feel closer to him than you had all day.

He gave your ass a swift slap and used your resulting gasp to force his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. His mouth not leaving yours for even one second, he walked you backwards until your back hit the makeshift file shelving in the small storage closet. Lifting your leg around his waist he pressed closer into you, and finally removed his mouth from yours before swiftly returning it to your neck to continue his ministrations. He removed one hand from your ass, and worked his way underneath your top to your chest beginning to massage you there as he made to push your bra away from your now aching nipples.

Before he could do so however, the door swung open:

“Reid are you in here- oh holy mother of god.” As soon as the door opened to show the figure of Penelope Garcia standing in the door the two of you jumped away from each other like randy school kids just caught clumsily making out on school grounds. Which you supposed you technically were.

“Are you and your lady friend decent, Doctor, can I remove my hand from my eyes now and live a long and healthy life?” She squeaked out, in surprise, her hands firmly blocking everything from view.

She hadn’t seen you just yet, but there was no getting around this.

“Yes, Penny, you can open your eyes,” you almost winced after you straightened your clothes quickly.

“Y/N!?! With Reid?!” She quickly squeaked out, gaining the notice of a nearby Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss who came rushing in as soon as they heard the frantic tone of their favourite tech analyst's voice.

“I can explain, Pen, please let’s just get out of this closet,” you tried to reason but she was still so shocked she wouldn’t listen.

“Derek, Y/N and Reid!” She motioned vaguely between the two of you.

“I know baby girl, I know.” He tried to reassure her but he couldn’t quite keep the amused look off of his face.

“You KNEW? That Y/N and Reid are getting all hot and heavy in the supply closets now? Emily, are you hearing the words coming from this beautiful man's mouth because I think I have walked into an alternate dimension and I need someone to please bring me back to my real one.” She gasped out.

“Actually, Penelope, I knew too. I think we all did actually.” Emily softly explained.

“You traitors!” she spun around to face the two of you again, and now that she’d calmed down a little, you’d found yourself gravitating towards Reid a little until he’d pulled you into a shy side hug.

“Look at them! They’re canoodling all happily in one of my supply closets, and they didn’t think to share the happy news with me!” She groaned out in faux anger. “Why did you tell Mister Action Man and Little Miss Faked Her Death here before me! Come on, I'm not that untrustworthy!”

“Actually, we didn’t technically tell anyone.” Reid managed to finally get out between Penelope’s moans of anguish, that stupid little smirk you loved so much playing on his face.

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning back to face your three coworkers. “I guess they all just had light bulb moments, and realised themselves, right?”

“God, stop being so cute and in love, it’s making me want to forgive you too easily.” Penelope joked, and you all let out a quiet laugh before deciding to remove yourself from the situation.

“Okay, I’m fine with being the last to know about this, but you better make Aunty Penelope the first in line to hear about any future Baby Geniuses, do you hear me?”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #dr spencer reid #spencer reid drabble #idiots in love

2K notes · View notes

reiding-writing · 5 months

Note

hiii, i hope you're well! i saw that you are taking requests for spencer and i really like your angst fics so i was wondering if you could write one with unrequited love?

preferably bau!reader who has feelings for him but he doesn't and she watches him get with someone else and everybody knows how she feels about him but he is oblivious, ending is up to you but i love me a sad ending heheh 😸

transgression [ s.r ]

You’re in love with Spencer Reid. He’s in love with somebody else.

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE MAEVE ARC, LOTS of misunderstanding, Spencer is kind of a bad friend, lots of arguing, major character death

spencer reid x gn!reader || ANGST || 8.2k || masterlist!!

a/n: sorry for the delay, but i did warn you it was gonna be long so- also i listened to ceilings on repeat whilst writing this so take that as you will 🫶

did i bend the maeve arc to my will for this fic? yes. yes i did.

taglist (slashed blogs couldn’t be tagged): @babyspiderling @marsxoxo2 @vytvyvy @hpstuff244444 @frostooo @ohmysw33 @radioactiveinvisible @devilsadvcte @the-local-pendeja @kakashis-formal-simp @robinswrld

You suppose you did it to yourself.

Spencer’s migraines had gotten increasingly worse over the last few months, and after a few consecutive days of hounding him, he’d finally decided to go and see a medical professional about it.

You’d expected him to come back with news about how his brain stem was too active from how hard he was working himself, or that he’d managed to raise his blood pressure to an unhealthy high from all the stress he was under.

Instead he’d told you that they couldn’t find anything physically wrong with him and that he’d been referred to a geneticist to check if the cause of his sudden mind-numbing aching was due to an underlying condition that might have been passed down from his mother.

He’d come back and forth to you for weeks about his phone calls with the doctor.

How she was helping him with his sleep deprivation.

How she was helping to manage his diet.

How she loved classic literature.

How she and him had spent four consecutive hours on the phone debating over the logistics of a novel they both enjoyed.

You could see the change happening before your eyes, and you weren’t the only one either.

“Pretty boy’s chipper this morning,” Morgan joins you at the kitchenette, his eyes following Spencer as he takes a seat at his desk with all of the enthusiasm of a golden retriever puppy who’d been let off his leash for the first time.

You hum with a nod, focusing your attention on the two cups of coffee you were making, heaping tablespoons of sugar into Spencer’s Doctor Who mug to satisfy his insatiable need for sweetness. “They’re reading a book together,”

“Really?” You respond to Morgan’s raised eyebrow with a short nod and another hum.

“Thoughts in Solitude by Thomas Merton, apparently she finds the religious analysis ‘fascinating’,” You can’t help the small contemptment that seeps into your tone as you reiterate what Spencer had told you to Morgan, and you can practically feel his pitiful gaze as he watches you make your coffee.

“I’ve heard of that book before from somewhere,”

“I tried to get him to read it a few months ago,” You take a sip of your coffee at the end of your sentence, barely able to taste it over the scolding water but not finding the mind to care.

You leave your conversation with Morgan at that, taking the two mugs in your hands and walking back into the bullpen, placing Spencer’s mug in front of him and walking around the cluster of desks to reach your own.

He’s sure he doesn’t need to verbalise it, but Morgan feels increasingly sorry for your situation, noting how you skirt past Spencer’s “thank you” without a response as you bury your head in your files.

he can’t imagine how much the fact that Spencer had seemingly formed a crush on his geneticist ripped you apart.

And the worst part? He’d never met her in person.

All scientific laws of attraction be damned, Spencer Reid had fallen in love with someone he’d never met in the span of three months, and you we’re resigning yourself to sit on the sidelines and watch as the man you had been in love with for six years find the happiness that you longed for with somebody else.

How you managed to keep up your facade you didn’t know.

You’d offered him change for the pay phone he’d call her from when he was running short. You’d let him rant to you about her opinions on a novel that you had failed to get him to read. You made excuses for him to leave the office early so that he could spend his time on the phone with her.

You were the one that sent him to the hospital and caused him to meet her in the first place.

He never hesitated to remind you of that fact, thanking you vicariously every time he relayed his conversations with the doctor back to you.

As the weeks progressed he stopped calling her that. She wasn’t ‘the doctor’ anymore. She was Maeve.

He didn’t call you by your first name and you’d known him for ten times longer that he’d known her. He didn’t even call Morgan by his first name and those two were practically brothers.

And that part was probably what hurt the most.

Maeve.

A name of Irish origin meaning ‘intoxicating’. How fitting.

Apparently the Irish goddess of love and desire was named Maeve. You could see the glimmer in Spencer’s eye that told you his Maeve was just as important as the mythological goddess he was describing.

His Maeve.

“So why haven’t you two actually gone on a date or anything?” You take a sip from the mug in your hands, swivelling your chair back and forth with your foot as a pivot. “You’ve been talking for what, four months now? Surely it’s about time you actually met her in person,”

“It’s complicated,” Spencer sighs as he collects the loose papers he was working on in a pile. He didn’t want to divulge Maeve’s issues without her permission.

“You’ve been saying that for the last six weeks Spencer,” You roll your eyes as you discard your half-empty mug on the table. “If I didn’t know any better i’d say you’re putting it off,”

Spencer shook his head adamantly at your suggestion. You couldn’t have been more wrong. He did want to meet her. Desperately. He’d wanted to meet her since the end of their first phone call. But he also wanted to keep her safe.

How do you meet up with somebody who’s hiding from a stalker without endangering them?

“I do want to meet her. It’s just- she’s dealing with something personal and it’s put a rift our plans, that’s all,”

“So it’s her not wanting to meet up with you then?” You raise an eyebrow at him over your desks.

“Look it’s- You don’t get it okay? It was a mutual understanding from both of us.” You can hear Spencer’s tone become more defensive as you spoke, and you raised both of your hands in surrender.

“Okay, i’m sorry for prying-” You ended your apology with a laugh, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted despite feeling your heart deflate in your chest at the way the friendliness his his eyes fizzled out the longer you looked at him.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Spencer’s late to work this morning.

It’s 8:06 when he finally walks through the glass doors, the coffee you made him stone cold after sitting lamely on his desk for the better part of twenty minutes. He doesn’t so much as offer an apology as he picks up the mug and makes his way over to the kitchenette to pour the coffee down the sink.

You follow behind him in a mix of intrigue and a want to refill your own mug, swilling it out with some water as you watch Spencer load a coffee pod into the machine. “Phone call last longer than you expected?”

“Hm? Oh- yeah, we were discussing the literary analysis of Annabelle Lee,” Spencer’s demeanour seems to brighten immediately once he’s given an opportunity to discuss the details of his phone call with Maeve, although the beginning of his ramble is quickly cut off by the beeping of the coffee machine.

You wait patiently for his coffee to finish before you begin making yours, raising an eyebrow as Spencer pulls out a regular teaspoon instead of the usual tablespoon he’d incorrectly use to load his coffee with sugar.

Your intrigue only heightened when he pulled a carton of milk from the mini-fridge. Not even normal milk. Soy milk.

“Since when do you drink coffee like a normal person?”

His eyes flickered from his mug to your face as he tipped a single teaspoon of sugar into his drink before replacing the bag back where it came from. “It’s a part of my managed diet, Maeve thinks that my increased sugar intake might be one of the risk factors for my headaches,”

“Did she tell you to put soy milk in it too?” You don’t know why you have the urge to be petty, Spencer had long since needed to change his coffee drinking habits for the sake of decreasing his sugar intake and Maeve’s suggestions were beneficial for his health.

It was just the fact that it was her that ticked you off.

“She did actually, it provides the same amount of riboflavin as cow’s milk, which acts as a soothing agent whilst also helping constrict inflamed blood vessels, but without all of the excess fats in regular milk that might make my migraines more frequent, it’s genius really,”

He thought that her ideas were genius. Him. Mr ‘I have three PhDs and an IQ of 187’, thought someone else’s ideas were genius.

You’re sure that he already knew the benefits of milk alternatives, and yet he attributed the ‘revelation’ of what they could do to Maeve. Of course he did.

“When was the last time you made a decision for yourself?” The question comes out much harsher than you intend it to, and you can tell by the way Spencer furrows his eyebrows that he’s taken offence to it.

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” No it didn’t. “I’m just a little surprised that someone as independent as you is so… willing to follow blind instructions,” Your attempt at saving yourself half-works, that wrinkle between his eyebrows disappears and you can see that the glimmer in his eyes is returning slowly.

“She’s a doctor, of course i’m going to follow her suggestions,”

You give him a soft nod as you pick up your mug from under the coffee machine. “Yeah, no, that makes sense, it’s just a little surprising is all,”

You don’t give him a chance to respond to you before you’re walking away from the kitchenette to retake a seat at your desk, fearing you might say something out of pocket if you continue the conversation any longer.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You were really pissed off now.

You’d arrived back in Quantico three days ago, and you were still piled up to your neck in paperwork.

Maybe you would’ve had it finished by now if Spencer would stop talking about the fact that he was “-finally going to meet Maeve in person,”.

You had half the mind to snap and tell him to just shut up, although by the saving grace of Morgan you thankfully didn’t have to.

“Reid, give their poor ears a break man,” Your thankful for Morgan in times like this. He knew you were knee-deep in your feelings for Spencer, and he knew that every time Spencer so much as spoke Maeve’s name it carved another hairline fracture in your heart.

You were close to shattering, and Morgan could tell.

“Oh- right, sorry,” Spencer offered you an awkward smile which you mirrored back at him.

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it,” You shake your head in a polite dismissal of his apology before turning your head back down towards your files.

“I take it you’re nervous then?” Alex’s voice cut through the beginning of an awkward tension between the two of you as she entered to bullpen with a cup of coffee in hand.

“Well- I mean- you know…” Upon being unable to find a sufficient response, Spencer resorts to shrugging into his chair. “I just don’t want to ruin anything,”

“But aren’t you curious what she looks like?” Alex raises an eyebrow with concern like Spencer was he son going on his first ever date.

“it doesn’t matter what she looks like I mean- she’s already the most beautiful girl in the world to me it’s just-”

You don’t stick around to hear the rest of the conversation.

You sudden upheaval from your desk stops Spencer’s sentence as his eyes follow you across the bullpen and out of the glass doors, followed shortly by Morgan as he jogs after you.

“Hey- Wait up a minute-” Morgan catches your arm before you have a chance to get in the elevator, and as you turn your eyes towards him he can see the beginnings of tears forming in your eyes.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this..”

Morgan can do nothing more than pull your head into his shoulder and wrap his arms tightly around your back with a soft mutter of your name. “I know kid, I know…”

“He thinks she’s the most beautiful girl in the world,” You turn your head up from Morgan’s shoulder to meet his eyes, a single stray tear cascading down your cheek, illuminated under the florescent lights. “How am I supposed to compete with that..?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Incidentally, Spencer’s date with Maeve didn’t end up happening. Conflicting work schedules or something, you weren’t really listening.

Maybe all of your subconscious thoughts had leaked into reality and finally gave you momentary release from the crushing defeat of having Spencer go on a date with someone else.

Maybe it was them punishing you further by forcing you to sit through him rant about the book she’d left him at the front of the restaurant.

It didn’t help that you already had a headache that made it feel like your eye sockets were being kicked by an annoying kid sat behind you on an aeroplane, leaving a dull ache in it’s wake and making you just want to bury yourself in a hole and hibernate.

“And right at the back she wrote ’Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another’ it’s a quote from-”

“Thomas Merton. Yeah, I know.” You dig the knuckle of your left thumb into cavity of your eye socket over your closed eyelid, hoping to relieve some of the tension that’s lingering there and disrupting your thoughts.

“Thomas Merton’s ‘Love and Living’ specifically,” If Spencer noticed your discomfort he didn’t acknowledge it. “It’s a collection of his essays on the importance of love to live, so for her to have written it specifically knowing that I would read it means-”

“Reid.”

Your tone stops him from continuing any further, and he blinks at you with that sweet puppy-dog expression that would usually have you weak at the knees.

“No offence, but I don’t care about your over-the-phone girlfriend or the quote that she wrote in your book.” Your tone carried a harshness to it that Spencer wasn’t used to hearing from you. It was cold and detached and not like you at all.

“Are- you okay?”

“No, Reid, I’m not, and if you’d bothered to ask about my life every once in a while instead of using me like a human diary maybe you would’ve realised that already.”

You practically slam your file closed as you speak, pushing your chair out from your desk and leaving him sat in shock at your sudden change in attitude.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

After a bit of introspection, Spencer did realise that he hadn’t been treating you very fairly. He hadn’t asked you how your life had been in 3 months and 26 days. Four of those days he’d spent in damn near radio silence. He wasn’t sure he could take it much longer.

He missed you.

It was a bit ironic considering you sat directly opposite him for almost eight hours a day five days a week, but after you’d snapped at him last week, he truly realised just how much of his day he spent socialising with you, and just how much he missed talking to you.

So he decided that he was going to apologise.

And what better form of an apology for being dismissive of your feelings than putting a personal effort into something for you.

He walked into the office that morning with a leather bound copy of The Parasite by Arthur Conan Doyle stored cautiously in his messenger bag, pages scrawled with annotations from Spencer’s own reading of the novel that he hoped would be insightful to you as you read it yourself.

He’d remembered you saying how much you wanted to read the novel a few months ago, so he figured giving it to you as a personalised apology would show that he really did care about you and had listened to what you’d told him.

“Are you busy?” Spencer asks, though he already knows the answer to the question.

He’d been watching you from the other side of the room all morning, hoping for a moment or two of eye contact to see if there was a possibility of a conversation. A look from one to the other; even a smile would’ve been enough to make him feel validated and content. And he would have been willing to settle for that.

But you never looked up. Not even once.

"Mhm," You continue to not spare Spencer so much as glance as he speaks, turning over the page of the file you were working through.

“Can I take a minute of your time?” He tried to catch your gaze again, only to be met by your continued focus on your work. The last thing he wanted to do was disrupt your work routine, but he also knew that he needed to talk to you sooner rather than later.

“Please,” he said softly. “It’s important.”

You exhale heavily through your nose, exasperation written clearly in your expression as you leave your pen as a page marker to close the manilla folder on your desk. You turn your head upwards, raising an eyebrow and opening your hands to agitatedly indicate for him to continue.

You wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt being so openly cold towards Spencer, but you’d reached a breaking point, and you couldn’t bare sitting idly on the sidelines and letting him tear your heart to pieces anymore.

Spencer was relieved that you’d granted him your attention, but the look you directed towards him was enough to make him wince. You weren’t looking at him through a lens of indifference but rather cold, hard disappointment.

He took a deep breath, trying to gather the right words for what he had to say.

“I’m sorry,”

He seemed almost breathless as he spoke, like he’d just finished a tangent about something without taking the time to breathe. “I know that I’ve been spending too much time talking about Maeve and not enough paying attention to you.”

"You don’t say," You mutter the words under your breath to yourself, but your sure that Spencer heard you based on the way his eyebrows knit and the small gleam of hope in his eyes dwindles to barely a flicker.

He was trying not to react to your snide comment. Spencer knew that your tone didn’t leave any room to deny your meaning. He’d been selfish in talking exclusively about his relationship and hadn’t realised how it was affecting you.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer repeated. “You mean so much to me and I haven’t been showing that.”

"Thank you," Your thanks are polite but dismissive, like you were acknowledging his apology but choosing to not actually consider it as one, and it left Spencer with an expression of clear frustration.

He was used to being able to read your facial expressions and emotions in the past, but now you were just an unreadable wall of disappointment. He had hoped the apology would've been enough, but it was clear that you weren’t going to let him off that easily.

Time to pull out the last resort.

He bent over and fumbled with his bag for a few moments before pulling out the novel he’d brought with him face up.

“I uh… got you this,” He holds out the book towards you. “You said you wanted to read it right? So I uh.. annotated it for you to make it more enjoyable,”

You take the novel from him with a raised eyebrow as your eyes scan the cover, a clear flicker of confusion in your expression.

Spencer noticed your expression and furrowed his own brow in confusion. You didn't seem to recognise the book. In fact, the look on your face made him wonder whether you even knew this book existed at all before this moment.

“I hope you… like it,” he said nervously. “I was going off what you'd talked about before. You mentioned the book was a classic?”

"I… have never seen this book in my life,”

“B-But…” Spencer knew this was going to be awkward at some point, but he'd hoped not this early into the conversation. He could feel his cheeks burning from embarrassment, and it was only getting worse as he searched your face for an answer to this awkward situation.

“I… swear I heard you mention it once.”

You give him a short shake of your head and a pursed smile of awkward thanks as you put the book down on your desk.

Spencer looked away, embarrassed beyond belief. He hadn't even been able to deliver an apology properly, let alone make you feel special like he'd originally intended to.

How had he gotten it wrong? He had an eidetic memory for god’s sake.

When you put the book down on your desk, his eyes flicked back to the book. He'd spent almost 4 hours annotating and researching it and now it felt like all that effort had been wasted.

If you hadn’t mentioned it then who had? Someone must’ve. Someone he obviously equated with you to the point where he’d somehow managed to override his eidetic memory to mix the two of you up.

It takes him a few moments before you hear him whisper out a name under his breath, the palm of his hand dragging down the front of his face at the realisation.

"Maeve…"

The mention of her name had your eyes flickering away from the leather cover and right back to Spencer’s face, awkwardness completely rid of your features and replaced with a mix of negativity that Spencer wasn’t sure he wanted to dig into.

"Are you serious?" Your words come out less questioningly and more accusatory, and you hold the book up so that he can see it once more, the gold embossing on the cover glinting under the overhead light as if to only taunt Spencer further for his mistake.

“You apologise for continuously disregarding me for your girlfriend by giving me a book that she showed interest in?”

You could see Spencer's face fall as your words sink in.

He hadn't even taken the time to think over what he was apologising with. It was almost as if his brain automatically just reverted back to his girlfriend's interests as an escape from dealing with his own guilt and sadness.

"Damn it," he whispered to himself. And in that moment he realised he'd just committed the biggest crime someone could make when trying to apologise.

“Like you constantly flaunting your relationship in my face verbally wasn’t bad enough.”

"I'm sorry I-" he says again, voice teeming with sincerity and guilt.

"You are truly and utterly unbelievable Spencer Reid." Your words didn’t carry anger as much as they did disappointment, and he could see the astoundment in your eyes as you pushed your chair backwards to stand, dropping the book straight in the trash bin by your desk before walking off.

It’s where it belongs; Right alongside the small sliver of respect you still had for him.

Spencer could've said so much more: he could've admitted how ashamed he felt for his careless actions and he could've apologised again and again a million times if it meant you'd stick around and give him a chance to make it up to you.

But you had already made it clear that you weren't in the right state of mind to discuss this matter further.

The best thing he could do now was give you space as he watched you walk away, a deep pain in his heart that slowly ate him alive from the inside.

He’d well and truly fucked up.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Oh sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You were bordering tears by the time you reached Garcia’s office, unintentionally interrupting her lunch break with Alex in the process, though the two seemed to care less about the interruption and more about the fact that you liked like you were about to cry your eyes out.

You take in a sharp breath through your nose as you try to tape together the cracks in your composure, although with every one you seal three more seem to appear in it’s place.

“I-” You can barely get the first word out before the tears start rolling down your face, and Alex immediately stands from her seat to guide you to sit in her place.

“Hey, you’re alright, slowly,” Alex’s hands find your shoulders and rub reassuring circles against your shirt. The slow breath you take in doesn’t stop the flood of tears that’s blurring your vision, and you only manage to get out a single word, but it’s all the two need to understand what’s got you so overwhelmed.

“Spencer-”

“I swear I am two seconds away from smacking that boy over the back of the head,” You can hear the clear frustration in Garcia’s tone. “Surely he’s got to realise how much he’s hurting you by now,”

“He does… I lashed out at him and then left to come here…” You rub your eyes with the back of your hand alongside a small sniffle, trying to rid your vision of it’s blurriness from your tears.

“Good, the boy deserves to have some sense knocked into him,” You appreciate Garcia taking your side, but you can’t help that small lingering feeling of guilt that invades the back of your mind.

“He’s just in love, it’s not his fault…” The words almost physically pain you to say. The verbal acceptance that Spencer Reid was indeed in love with somebody. Somebody who wasn’t you.

“That doesn’t mean that he should be disregarding you though sweetheart,” Alex’s tone is soft and almost maternal, and your sure that it doesn’t help how emotional you are.

Garcia’s right hand reaches forward to straighten out the collar of your shirt, unintentionally crumpled as you try to wipe your face of your emotions. “You’re his friend, and you have been his friend for longer than he’s known this girl he’s talking to, it’s not fair for him to completely push you to the side,”

Garcia was right. It’s not fair. Nothing about how Spencer had been treating you since he’d started speaking to Maeve had been fair. And you were done making excuses for the boy just because you knees deep in your feelings for him.

You didn’t deserve to feel guilty. You didn’t deserve to feel bad for lashing out at Spencer for apologising for not showing interest in your life by further proving just how little he’d actually payed attention to you. You didn’t deserve to cry because he was the most stupid genius to ever live and couldn’t see that you were hopelessly in love with him. You didn’t deserve to suffer by his hand.

It wasn’t fair.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“Maeve’s been kidnapped.”

You have to consciously suppress the small voice in the back of your head that celebrates the possibility that she might not be a part of Spencer’s life for much longer. It’s a horrible thought. You should never wish ill upon anyone, no matter how much you internally despised them.

Still, that part of you that was still petty, that was still infuriated with Spencer and Maeve, wanted you to tell Spencer straight to his face that you weren’t going to help him find her and that it was karma for how he’d treated you.

But you weren’t a bad person.

As much as you might hate her, she was still important to Spencer.

“I have a wealth of knowledge i should be applying to this case, but- i can’t focus on anything for more than four seconds at a time… which makes me the dumbest person in the room-” Spencer’s eyes are full of desperation as they scan across your teammates.

“So please help me… Please help me find her…” The desperation in his voice is heartbreaking, the remnants of tears staining his face as he explains the context of the situation through broken sentences.

“We don’t have an official case, so we’ll be working on personal time,” Hotch’s voice is much quieter than you’re used to. Softer, more considerate. “Does anybody want to leave?”

You can feel his eyes linger on you as he asks the question, and you subconsciously purse your mouth into a tight line to stop yourself from impulsively pulling out of the investigation.

You might be detrimentally frustrated with him, but you did want to help. Even if it ultimately resulted in your downfall.

Hotch gave you a short nod before turning to the rest of the team. “Good, let’s get to work,”

It didn’t take Garcia very long to track Maeve down, mostly attributed to her unique name and specialised job.

Dr. Maeve Donovan, a professor at Mendel University who took a sabbatical leave 10 months ago.

The group split into different groups once they’d found her, JJ and Morgan heading off to a loft her parents owned, Alex and Rossi heading to the lab she used to work at, and you and Hotch, accompanied by Spencer, going to speak to Maeve’s parents.

“Reid,” Garcia’s tone is soft as she looks over her laptop screen towards him as he begins to stand from the conference table. “I have a picture of her, do you want to know what she looks like?”

“No,”

Spencer’s answer is immediate, joined by a shake of his head.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You and Spencer watched from behind the one way mirror as the interview progressed.

They’d last spoken to Maeve five days ago. Her mother had cancer. She was also a geneticist. They were suspicious of her ex fiancé Bobby.

Her fiancé?

You can see Spencer’s face drop at the words despite the low lighting in the room, and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows yourself.

She had a fiancé?

Spencer practically storms out of the office after the questioning is over, and Hotch has to remind him to calm down as they reach the apartment of Robert Putnam with Morgan and Rossi in tow.

When the door opens the five of you aren’t greeted by Robert, but rather a girl, a girl who looked very confused.

You invite yourselves inside at the girl’s recognition that Robert was inside the apartment.

“And who are you?”

“I’m Diane, his girlfriend,” She raised an eyebrow as the five of you looked around, confusion cut short as Robert rounds the corner questioning the sudden voices coming from his living room.

“Hey babe what’s-“

“Robert Putnam, FBI we’d like to-” Spencer’s voice cuts him off harshly as he rushes to speak, although he stops his sentence halfway as a flicker of recognition falls across his features and his anger turns to dread.

“Hey, I know you,” Robert doesn’t have the time to say anything else to Spencer before Hotch forces him out of the room, shutting the door behind him to speak to Spencer privately whilst you Morgan and Rossi remained inside.

Hotch returned a few minutes later. Spencer didn’t.

You end up taking Hotch’s place as you push yourself out of the apartment with a small “excuse me,” to follow after Spencer as he walks out of the apartment building.

“Spencer- wait up a minute-”

He doesn’t stop at your call, and you’re practically running down the stairs by the time you get to him, already out of the front doors of the apartment building.

“Hey-” You take a second to catch your breath before turning your eyes back towards him again. “Are you alright?”

You could see the flicker of confusion in his eyes as he met your gaze.

The last time you spoke to him you threw away any remnant of your friendship with him in the bin alongside the book he’d given you, and now here you were, chasing after him to make sure that he was okay.

“Why did you agree to help?”

Your face falls from concern to surprise at his question, and he takes it as a sign to continue.

“I know that you don’t like her, so why are you here?” You could see the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes, clearly overwhelmed with how the investigation was going.

“She’s important to you Spencer. Like her or not I care about you. So therefore I care about her,” You don’t think as you speak, words spilling out of your mouth with no conscious filter.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer’s apology elicits a sigh from your mouth, and you shake your head softly at him.

“Forget it, let’s focus on getting Maeve home safe alright?” He obliges to your request with a purse of his lips and a small nod, turning his eyes towards the ground.

“What’re you thinking about?” His eyes fall on yours once more at your question, round with confusion and glistening with the starts of tears. “I can see it in your face, you’re calculating something in your head,”

He exhales through his mouth in a small laugh. You’d always been able to figure him out, and not just because you were a profiler.

“2,412 hours,” His tone is uncertain, mixed between gratefulness for you observance and something far more upsetting. “That’s how long Maeve and I have contacted each other counting letters and phone calls…”

“That’s what-” You take a second to do the calculation in your head. “100 days?”

“100.5…” He runs his hand backwards through his hair, pressing his eyes closed like he’s afraid tears will spill from them if he doesn’t. “What if that’s all I get?”

“It won’t be Spencer…”

“You don’t know that-“

“Yes Spencer, I do,” You have to consciously suppress the sigh that threatens to leave your mouth, pushing your lingering distaste for Maeve down with it. “She is going to be fine, I promise,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Turns out Maeve’s ex fiancé wasn’t the stalker. In fact, he was being stalked himself, and whilst JJ and Garcia were looking over the images posted to Robert whilst him and Maeve were still together they discovered something that changed the entire direction of the investigation.

Maeve’s face had scribbled out in eyeliner.

You and the team spent the next thirty minutes rebuilding the profile from the bottom up.

“Celebrity stalkers are usually non violent,”

“You want to tell that to John Lennon Rossi?” Spencer looked up from his lap towards the group at the table, having separated himself from the group to sit on a sofa lining one of the walls so he couldn’t bias the profile.

It wasn’t going too well.

“What was it that Mark David Chapman said after he shot him?” Spencer stood from his seat, anger flaring in his nostrils. “‘It was like all of my nobody-ness and all of his somebody-ness collided’,”

You could hear the rise in his tone as he worked himself up the more he spoke.

“Spencer-“

“Maeve is somebody. And this- bitch is a nobody.”

“Spencer.”

Spencer caught your gaze, and immediately fizzling out of his eyes and replaced with guilt. “I’m sorry- I can’t be very helpful right now I should leave-“

“Yes you can Reid, you have 100.5 days of communication with this girl and a recall everything verbatim,” Morgan’s gaze is entirely concerned with Spencer’s outburst.

“There’s too much of it, and I can’t sort through any of it clearly-“ Spencer is clearly on the edge of breaking, and you can tell he’s not going to be able to keep his composure for much longer.

“Then pick one of us and we’ll go through it with you,” Hotch leaned his elbows against the table, his voice again portraying that soft, parental tone that said he knew how overwhelmed Spencer was getting.

Spencer didn’t even say anything, his eyes just silently flickered over to you and you knew you couldn’t refuse him.

You return his silence as you get up from your seat and pat your hand on his shoulder for the two of you to exit the room together.

Time to torture yourself for the sake of Spencer’s wellbeing.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Diane Turner, a research assistant working for her PhD in the same lab as Maeve. A student who had her thesis rejected because it contained a heavy sample bias that included both of her parents.

It took a while, but Garcia eventually managed to track down a loft that was owned under Diane’s parents’ names, less than 10 minutes away from Maeve’s apartment.

“Take your gun and vest off,” Diane’s voice is harsh through the receiver attached to the front of the building, and Spencer’s eyes flickered up from the silk blindfold in his hands to the metal box.

He doesn’t question the orders as he immediately begins stripping the vest from his torso, dropping it and his gun on the floor.

“Now come in alone.”

“Spencer.” You call out to him as he reaches for the door handle, and he gives you that look that makes your stomach do flips in your torso. Except this time it’s not that pleasant fluttery feeling, but instead an existential dread at the fact that he might not walk out of the building alive.

“I’ll be okay,” He gives you a nod of reassurance as he pushes the door open, and you find yourself clenching your hands around your gun to stop yourself from following after him.

The six of you wait outside for what feels like hours, and you lean back and forth on the balls of your feet as you become increasingly restless with the situation.

Then, a gunshot.

And a second.

And your heart drops in your chest.

You’re not entirely present as you rush into the building with the team following behind you, gun raised at your eyes.

Spencer had to be okay. He had to. He was going to be fine. You were going to walk into that room and he was going to be perfectly fine.

You hoped Maeve was alright too. As much as she was unintentionally causing you literal hell, you knew that she meant everything to Spencer.

You knew that he’d choose her over anything. He’d choose her over you.

And right now you don’t care. You just want him to be okay.

You force the door open to the loft with your foot, gun pointed straight ahead at the first person you see.

“Stay back-“ Spencer practically shouts from where he’s half lying on the floor, right hand clutching tightly at his left bicep, trails of blood cascading down his fingers and onto the floor.

“Stay back stay back don’t shoot-“

You let out an audible sigh at the fact that Spencer wasn’t critically harmed, although upon a whimper of his name from further across the room you turn your eyes up to the noise.

And you finally meet the girl that’s caused you ten months of hell. Held at gunpoint.

That small voice in the back of your head tells you that this might be your chance to finally rid her from your life, to let her succumb to whatever Diane had planned and leave Spencer to you.

But you take one look at the desperation in her eyes and any loathing that remained in your mind immediately fizzled out.

It wasn’t her fault. Of course it wasn’t. She was just a girl that happened to be in love.

“Diane,” Spencer pushes himself to stand, and you can see the pain in his face as he does. “There’s still a way out of this,”

“You never wanted me. Never!” Diane pushes the gun she’s holding hard against Maeve’s neck, and you can see her eyes squeeze closed as she attempts to keep herself from crying. “You lied!”

“I didn’t.”

Spencer shakes his head adamantly, and you glance over at Hotch as you spread across the back of the room, guns raised in Diane’s direction. “Diane, I offered you a deal, and you can still take it,”

“Me for her. Let me take her place,”

You only have a view of the back of Spencer’s head now, but you can tell by the tone of his voice that his expression is a pure display of desperation, one that you’re happy you can’t see because you’d lose your composure in an instant.

“You would do that?” Diane’s question is angry and accusatory, tears rolling down her face as she presses the gun against Maeve’s neck once more.

Spencer nods with no threat in his tone. “Yes,”

“You would kill yourself for her?”

“Yes.”

You practically feel your heart stop.

“Thomas Merton,” Maeve’s voice is almost exactly as you imagined it to be. Soft, smooth and, as Spencer had called it all those months ago, ‘dipped in honey’.

“Who’s Thomas Merton?” Diane’s tone contrasts Maeve’s tenfold, pitchy, uneven and overrun with manic anger.

“He knows,” You can see Maeve’s eyes flicker, and you assume that they meet Spencer’s as his shoulders drop. “He knows.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton?” Diane shakes Maeve in her grasp as if to intensify the urgence of her question, and you tighten your grip on your gun in instinctual response. “Who is he?”

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve’s voice is confident and defiant despite the clear tears in her eyes.

Thomas Merton could’ve been something between Spencer and you.

“No.”

You can see a clear change in Diane’s expression at Maeve’s words, and she lowers the gun from Maeve’s head only to hold it up against her own, staring directly into Spencer’s eyes.

“Wait-”

Spencer barely has time to shout the word before the gun fires, and you flinch at the sound as you watch Maeve and Diane both drop to the floor, dark red blood pooling around the two.

You can feel the tension in the room as everyone computes what just happened, guns lowering slowly as their eyes lock onto the two women on the floor.

You’re not focused on that. You’re focused on the tightness of Spencer’s shoulders as he takes sharp breaths in and out of his nose.

The way he seems to forget about the bullet wound in his arm as his legs give out underneath him.

The way a sob that leaves his mouth despite the fact that he tries to muffle it with his hand.

The way that Spencer broke.

He's crying. Big, heaving, heart-wrenching sobs.

His shoulders are trembling.

His hands are shaking.

His head is hanging downwards so that his hair is covering his face.

You approach him slowly, kneeling down at his side and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

His eyes slowly shift from Maeve, his sobs only seeming to amplify as he meets your gaze. His eyes are red and closely with tears, his cheeks running hot and his lips trembling.

You don’t speak, knowing that you’ll break if you do. Instead, you guide his head into your shoulder and let him crumble in your arms, grieving the loss of the love of his life.

You’re sure you’re going to cry yourself to sleep when you get home, but right now, you needed to be strong. For him.

“I’m so sorry-“ Spencer speaks through broken sobs as you hold him, the rest of the team moving to secure the scene.

“Shh,” You shake your head against his softly, rubbing the palm of your hand up and down his back as you let him cry until he physically couldn’t anymore.

“I treated you so horribly-“ He pulls away from your shoulder to look into your eyes once more. “I’m so sorry- Please don’t leave me…”

You purse your lips into a line, your expression full of so many emotions Spencer can’t distinguish any of them.

“I’m not going anywhere,” You pull his head back into your shoulder, leaning your head against his. “I promise…”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #mgg #asks 🫶

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tree0frog · 2 years

Text

Dating the 11 the doctor would be like

This man like his tenth self is a fully grown child

You some times wonder if your dating a toddler or a grow time lord

You met once when you were helping Torchwood out and had ran into him with jack

Soon after you stared to travel with him as well as the ponds

He has no sense of timing

Meaning he will kiss you anywhere

Which gets you to in to shit often

The TARDIS moved your things into his after you got injured on a trip and the doctor was on 24/7 watch over you

He is such a sweet person he will hug you and won’t let go

Like I mean he will show you his love like he will never see you ageing

He gives you thing small tokens of your time together

#y/n #x reader #fanfic #tardis #doctor who #doctor who x reader #classic who #drwho #11th x reader #11th doctor x reader #11th doctor

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daydreaming-of-doctor-who · 6 months

Note

~Alexa, play Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood~

So, hi 😬

Can we imagine a teen reader being the 3rd doctor's and the Delgado master’s companion? Like, would be nice to see them bickering about how dangerous a place can be for him/her and (s)he’s like: don’t fight, divorce parents

A/N: THIS IS PERFECTION! You know they would be such 'dad's.' I mean, they already act it with Jo!

Teen!Reader being the Third Doctor's and Delgado!Master's Companion:

They may be best enemies, but when it comes to you, their teenage companion who is practically like a child to them both, they come together like the concerned divorced papa's they are.

It starts with you almost getting yourself into a dangerous situation and one of them telling you: NO.

Then it follows with them both bickering with each other over how to better teach you, or watch over you, or what's best for you, or how to should learn, etc.

"The best way for Y/N to learn is to experience it for themselves."

"No, no. Guidance is what Y/N needs. They need someone watching and--"

"Y/N's gone! Where have they gone now?!"

You got bored of listening to them bicker with one another again, so you went to find something more entertaining.

It's weird knowing one of them is trying to (maybe) sometimes kill the other. Honestly, it's not quite sure if the Master wants to kill the Doctor or not, or they just need to really talk out their problems.

At least you know the Master doesn't mean for you to get involved in his plans with the Doctor. It just...happens?!

One of them is teaching you how to be environmentally friendly towards the planet and protect it. The other, is teaching you how to set traps and use people or things to your advantage.

Life's even more confusing, but at least one thing is certain: You've been adopted by two Time Lords who are divorced and will also probably be the safest person in the universe.

#the master x reader #the doctor x reader #delgado!master x reader #third doctor x reader #delgado!master #third doctor #doctor who reader insert #doctor who imagines #doctor who headcanons #classic who #doctor who #the master #the doctor

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awindylife-writes · 8 months

Text

This Time Around (Chapter 10 rewrite)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, (here) (ongoing)

Relationships: Third Doctor x reader

Summary: The Doctor and you talk in the infirmary. There are a lot of feelings on both sides, not all of them pleasant. He stands with you through the storm.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries and physical violence, but nothing graphic.

Author's notes: What can l even say. This took so much from me, and l'm immensely proud of it. I'm going to carry this project through, l just don't know in what timeframe. I hope you enjoy:))

(The concepts of bond-mates and visible personal timelines belong to @inthisformiambadwolf.)

The Doctor held you. It was a world where nothing could hurt you, nothing could reach you. A world of open peace and gentle comfort. There was time to stay still.

He held you. Everything that was were the two of you. You could breathe, you could find your feet again. You knew where you stood, and you didn't stand alone.

He held you. You saw him, you'd let him come closer than you had ever allowed anyone to be. The trust you had in him was bigger than you, and you were safe.

The awe of this place never left you. You felt the Doctor like cool raindrops on your skin, the mountain wind in your lungs. Something wild, rebellious, rushing, velvet to the touch. You were allowed to hold him.

You could have sung from the joy of looking at this person who meant the world to you.

He was different. Ten was a colossal storm, a swirling galaxy, so vast compared to you. Three was a giant too, but smaller. You could just see the beginnings, which branches of his personality would grow and what he would grow into. His underlying edge would sharpen, temper shorten, ego grow; kindness would spread out into a world of its own, permeating his every part...

You wanted to know him now. You needed to know him now. God, you could just glimpse where his thoughts wove themselves in the distance, where his memories compiled, where his dreams hid far, far away...

But you couldn't look that deeply. You didn't have his permission and there wasn't time for that. You had too much to do, too much to find out, too much you didn't know about the place you'd found yourself in.

A breath. Gentle and careful, you started to pull back, untangling your thoughts from his.

He loosened his hold on you in turn.

You had dropped your shields when you'd clung to him in your panic. Now was the time to put them back up, so you brought the firm layers forward one by one, shutting the Doctor out with a stab of regret.

You hoped you would come back to this place. You hoped you would be allowed to hold him like this again.

When you opened your eyes, you had a moment to appreciate just how beautiful this version of him was, in private and up close. (He wasn't Ten and you'd deal with that train of thought later. But.)

Another wave of awe crashed over you. He was the Doctor, new, teasing, breathtaking and you wanted to look forever. Inside and out. Trace the lines on his face, cup his cheeks, how did his lips feel? Was his white hair as soft as it looked? Just how deep was that blue in his eyes?

There was so much to discover it made you greedy. Your hands itched to reach out, hold, explore. You thought about the rest of his body for two seconds max and there was that familiar heat already. Just looking at him made your nerves spark.

It's you, it's you, it's you... How could you resist this?

Then his eyes opened too and he smiled softly.

It snapped you back into your body. Reminded you that you were exhausted like a wrung out cloth, dirty along with greasy hair, aching all over besides your throbbing temple, and a stranger to him.

Alive, you were alive.

You couldn't help but smile back.

When he pulled away, the Doctor let go of your cheek and your hand, leaving the cold behind. You felt a pang in your chest at the loss.

Still, what he'd given you was enough to go on.

"Thank you," you murmured from your beating human heart.

He shook his head with gentle eyes. "There's nothing to thank me for." His eyebrows pinched together just a little, but you didn't notice it when you looked down at your lap.

His new face was distracting and you had to get a hold of yourself if you wanted to carry a coherent conversation.

"I think there is," you quietly countered.

For a moment, you saw your stinging wrists wrapped in gauze. Tired, aching hands. Blood and dirt under your broken nails. They reminded you of what you were capable of, and your sore shoulders relaxed.

You raised your eyes again and began with a tentative smile, shrugging. "Where do we start?" Your hands leaned on the edge of the bed so your scabs smarted, but you were glad and brave and open.

You saw stubble, a glint in his eyes and his lapel had a muted red edge. You'd missed looking at him. There was so much you wanted.

The Doctor loved the sound of we when it meant the two of you. Cocking his head, he gave you a warm smile. "Well, perhaps you could tell me your name?"

Oh, that hurt.

But it was kind of ironic too.

When you told him, he repeated it to taste it in his mouth. There were so many questions left there. When did we meet? Where? How much sugar do you take in your tea? Do you even like tea? Where did you grow up? What date is your birthday? Who the hell caused those bruises? May l hold you?

You let the way he said your name reverberate through your bones. You loved how it sounded in his voice.

Wait, does he know...? It wasn't like your marriage bond was a blinking ad sign, you had to be completely sure. "You-- You do know who l am to you, right?"

The Doctor grinned so wide it reached his dazzling eyes, and nodded. "I do."

That made you smile truly, you let out a relieved breath with a soft, "Okay."

Your curiousity woke. "How did you find out?"

"Ah..." His forefinger came to rub his jaw when he pressed his lips together, sheepish. "I accidentally brushed your hand when l came to see you. With that activation energy, our marriage bond was strong enough to circumvent all the temporal interference that stood in the way, and l knew," he shrugged.

Marriage bond. Our marriage bond. His awestruck joy lit him up like a sun. He wanted to cup your cheek again, but only his eyes stayed on you.

"Good," you nodded, certain. "I don't know what l would've done if l'd woken up in this..." Remembering you were in a room, you looked around despite your pulsing temple.

Curtain dividers on both your sides, around the edge you could just see neat beds parallel to yours, a writing desk with a chair by the wall... Was this a hospital?

"Where even are we?" You looked up at the Doctor again, eyebrows raised. "When are we?"

Your choice of words made him shake his head with a quirk of a smile. "These are UNIT headquarters, 1982, and--"

"UNIT." You grinned, incredulous. "I landed at UNIT of all places in the universe. Seriously, UNIT?!"

The room you saw was much more interesting now. You'd gone from a level 8 industrial planet to the 80's take on UNIT.

With all that looking around, you didn't notice the Doctor hadn't glanced away from you from the moment he'd pulled back. He knew this very much counted as staring and he didn't want to be found out.

It was just...

There was an expanse in your eyes, a vastness deeper than any sea and freer than any sky he'd ever seen. He didn't want to stop looking. He considered how to tell you, he thought of what he would give only to have the freedom to look at you. Just look at you for however long he wished.

Cocking his head, he managed a kind, "I'm as surprised as you are, my dear."

Your heart skipped a beat at the pet name. You knew this regeneration of him had spent most of his time in the 70's and 80's, mostly involuntarily, and you could see how their way of speaking had rubbed off on him. Proper British accent and everything. You couldn't wait to hear more.

"I mean..." You tried to focus back on the topic and amended with a slight smile, "It's as good a place as any, l'm just..."

A sigh escaped you as the situation fully sank in.

UNIT.

1982.

Paradox.

"I don't know how l got here." Eyes closed, you rubbed your face with your palm while careful of your scabs. "Didn't mean to," you mumbled and dragged your hand down your face, drained.

The Doctor frowned as he cocked his head, imploring you to go on.

Your hands swung out in an 'l don't know' gesture. "l was locked on the TARDIS, the future one, but l was so tired."

Looking down at your lap, you remembered the stitches on your smarting temple and laughed. "And bleeding. And, like, the command centre was on fire, so," you shrugged, shoulders protesting, "I probably didn't check the landing fix again, l just jumped."

The refinery switch boards had flamed so hot you'd feared your face would be burned.

"But after that..." Your brows furrowed when you tried to look at the hazy past.

A cracked helmet. Monstrous fire. Noise.

That's it.

"l don't even remember leaving, or materializing..."

"No?" The Doctor looked you over, inquisitive.

Your gaze was back on him when you shook your head. "No."

A corner of his mouth pulled up as he tucked his hand in his pocket. "That's odd, since you landed in my laboratory, recognized me, and only then passed out."

A smile overtook your face at that, wide and warm as your cheeks heated up. Well, of course l did.

"Makes sense to me," you shrugged. "l'd know you anywhere."

You didn't need a bond to recognize him. You'd spent weeks, months, years drawing closer to him and bringing him close to you. Years in which the two of you had made a home in each other, secret by secret, shame by shame. Your bond was just its door.

And that was the crux of it. He was your Doctor, but younger than you'd ever seen him, new and tantalizing, there for you to come to know him all over again. You wanted to look at him forever, to ask him a million questions, laugh with him, run with him, fight him, hold him, you wanted time.

You wanted to kiss every wrinkle on his face.

The Doctor felt how your look reached for him, open, content and impossibly soft. It made him falter because everything he was turned forward to run to you.

There was something he'd been starving for. It made him feel the air around him, inside him, it enveloped him like the walls of a home and he was understood.

More. Only more of this. Please. He'd just discovered that he could breathe.

Oh god, you were staring--You're a stranger, a familiar stranger, even if he knows about your bond!

You snapped out of the reverie, grasping for straws, "And-- And, my manipulator was broken too! So..."

You went on with an awkward smile, "It's not all my fault..."

The Doctor blinked a bit dazedly, nodding with a frown, "Right," but you realized that your salvation wasn't on your wrist.

"Wait... Um, where is it?" You looked yourself over, then focused on him, "Do you know...?"

You had subconsciously reached for your neck.

Empty neck.

"Key-- !" Your ears rang. Horror rose like bile in your throat.

"Doctor, they TOOK MY KEY!" Your eyes stung with tears, you'd lost it, you'd lost it no matter how hard you'd tried to hold onto it, your thread leading home was gone because you'd been careless--

"No, no-no-no, l have it!"

He hurriedly pulled your glinting key from his pocket to show it in his palm. "I have it, look!"

You snatched it from his hand, lightning-fast, and gripped it as tightly as you could because you needed the pain from the cut in your palm to believe it was really there.

Your eyes shut against the swell of tears. You clutched your necklace like a lifeline in a seastorm, taking measured breaths.

It had been a mess of an uprising, and you'd kept your key hidden. From that market place to the stale shafts, the cells, the bright and sterile meeting room and the command centre of hell, you had guarded it. Never spoken of it, but had checked again and again if it was still there, as if it would have vanished like a wonderful dream. Your key was home and promise and love and the mere thought of losing it made you sick.

He'd kept it safe.

Your stinging eyes opened. "Thank you." Your murmur was more fervent than you'd meant it to be. You were so thankful it almost hurt.

The Doctor shook his head with a crease in his brow, lost. His answer was a soft murmur, "Again, there's nothing to thank me for."

He couldn't understand why you'd be grateful for so little. Worry was born like a cobweb in the corner of his mind at your repeated thanks for his care.

You pressed your lips together, attention still on your clasped hands. "I'd beg to differ." A quiet opposition.

Your eyes were watery but you raised them to his. Strained, fierce, your voice betrayed your pain, "If they'd taken it, or if l'd left it there, l'd never forgi-- !"

"Where is 'there'?" the Doctor demanded as he stepped towards you. The sight of tears in your eyes had snapped something in him. "Where did you run from?"

He wanted to hold you in his arms, make sure that you were with him, safe and whole.

Your mouth opened, but you faltered.

Your blurry gaze dropped down to your aching hands again and you rubbed your eyes. "No. No, it's not important," you shook your head with vigor, "I'm not--"

You wouldn't drag that burning wreck into this blue day. Not now. Not yet.

It wasn't that you were sorry for it. It had hurt, sure. Volonel IV had pounded you with its fists and its loneliness. But when you turned your feelings over like cards on the table and looked at them before you, you just couldn't find regret there.

You knew you would've done it again. Differently, perhaps, but...

Those people had needed help, and anything was worth the way Sava's mechanical pupils had widened when she'd realized that there was hope.

You just knew him. The Doctor always took responsibility for what he did and often also for things that weren't his fault. He put his needs aside to help others and he always thought he should have done better. You didn't want to explain what had gone wrong, the complexity of it all, if he'd just blame himself on principle.

And his resentment of his other regenerations would come up one way or another. He'd met himself, just once since you'd started travelling with him, and it had taken the two of them exactly three minutes and a half to start verbally tearing each other to bits. You'd managed to stop them; but now your body weighed you down, your head throbbed and you thought you'd just cry if you had to counter him.

You would have to remember everything for that.

You couldn't do it now, not when the two of you were still at the start (and why did he leave me, why the hell did he have to wander off and leave me-- running, can't breathe, cold, the cuffs slice your wrists, they are BEATING you, please, l can't, please NO, stop, STOP, STOP-- rushing, smoke sears your throat, your eyes burn, get out, run NOW, you're going to die-- )

"Please," the Doctor pulled you out of it. Of course he did.

How rare it was for him to say that word.

When you looked up at his face again, his wrinkled frown and his sky-blue eyes made your chest tight. You'd managed to stop your tears from falling but your nose was full now.

It was all you could do to look back. Not budging, but not unmoved either.

He tapped his thigh with his knuckles. Something rolled in his face, stepped back but magnified.

He spoke in a murmur. "I-- l won't insist that you tell me," he nodded, "but l'd very much like to know who did this to you."

Who did this to you. You heard a familiar anger in his words, like magma under thin ground that was writhing for the surface to crack.

It was so much like him, it soothed you. You were tied to this place with that mooring line.

Looking down at the key in your hand, you turned it in your grip as you swallowed. "I got out of there, there's no point getting into it now." Ask me again later, and you'll have it. Soon.

His shoulders gave in. He sighed, then nodded. "Alright."

You didn't know how to read him yet, you tried to look for signs that he'd heard what you'd implied. You opened your mouth--

A throat clearing behind you, "l hate to interrupt--"

Your whole body flinched and your head whipped around to stare at the stranger. In the same half-second, the Doctor turned so he was in front of you, partially hiding you behind him.

Neither of you noticed.

Dr Richards did.

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newbie-whovian · 2 years

Text

"What would all the Doctors when they and reader have a lover's spat?"

(Absolutely! Thanks for the ask anon! Sorry this took so absurdly long 😭)

All Doctors x Reader - Spats

1 probably started it, not gonna lie, and for the first bit afterwards, he simply refuses to admit he's wrong. He moves on quickly though, a little too quickly sometimes, but he always apologizes (even if it comes much later than you'd prefer).

2 knows that disagreements are normal but when they turn into spats, he can't help but feel a little guilty for making something out of nothing. He enjoys ruffling your feathers sometimes, sure, but he hates the thought that he might have actually upset you, so he makes sure to make it up to you.

3 turns spats into an art form. He is infuriating, plain and simple, and he knows it. Just look at his banter with the Master; he can bicker with the best of them. He tries not to be horribly mean spirited, and if he is, he's quick to make it up to you with a trip in the TARDIS.

4 bickers all the time because truly, he's only ever polite in tense situations. He has his sweet side, definitely, but more often than not, he's unintentionally quite rude. Spats are always over silly things, and he always forgets them very quickly, moving on like a derailed train.

5 insists that he would never, and to give him credit it's barely a lie. Spats are only ever over the tiniest things, and they never last very long at all. He's always quick to forgive and forget because truly, staying mad about the little things is never any good.

6's love language is arguing. Hands down. The spats that he doesn't start are few and far between. But truly it's never genuinely malicious; he loves to have a partner that can dish it back to him because really, what's the fun in one-sided arguments?

7 probably started it on accident; some scheme of his went sour, you were accidentally caught in the crossfire, and although everything turned out alright, you still can't get over the fact that everything would have gone a lot smoother if he'd communicated at all. It's truly like arguing with a brick wall.

8 is Confused™. Spats come as a genuine surprise to him because most of the time he can't think of any reason to argue, unless it's over something completely ridiculous. He absolutely hates the idea of you staying mad at him though, so he's quick to try and make it up to you.

The War Doctor is too preoccupied with getting traumatized to argue. Or have a partner, for that matter.

9 has very little patience for arguments, but he's also not very good at explaining what he's thinking. This leads to some interesting spats where everything could be avoided if he knew how to communicate properly, but c'mon, this is the Doctor we're talking about. He tries his best.

10 is an absolute disaster but refuses to recognize it. This can end in some pretty one-sided spats, where he's in some pretty firm denial about ever doing anything wrong. He's always eager to make it up to you with a trip.

11 hates arguments, and it would seem that spats are much more up his alley but that couldn't be further from the truth. He can't stand the idea of disagreeing with you about anything. They're never about anything serious, but he lets them bother him for way longer than he should.

12 is Awkward™ and until you understand his love languages, tiny spats are abundant. He can be pretty rude but that's vastly overshadowed by his protective streak, and the end result is some admittedly frustrating spats.

13 couldn't argue with you if her life depended on it. That being said, you do have disagreements, but she prefers to ignore them until the problem goes away.

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piedinthepiper · 5 months

Text

You owe me (pt. 2) ☆

Mafia!Jungkook x psychologist!reader x mafia!Taehyung (slightly)

Summary: His efforts seem pointless. But when it comes to jealousy, anger and you, he just can’t help himself. And neither can you.

Warnings: yandere!Jungkook, dubcon, stalking?, breaking and entering, mention of murder, mention of other types of crimes, angst, weapons (a knife), cursing, male m, descriptive smut, angst

Wc: 7.4k

A/n: Thank you guys so much for all the feedback on this fic. Since so many wanted a part 2 I made a part 2! Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Parts: | 1 | 2 |

Your back felt a sudden relief as you finally laid down in bed. It had been a long day. A very long day. A new patient took up almost all you time. Taehyung Kim. He was being charged with robbery and murder, and his lawyer had hired you to potentially give him a diagnosis that could help him in court.

You had to assign some of your other patients to a few of your coworkers, just to make time for him. But this is what you love doing. You wanted to help. Especially now, after what you learned about your entire career. You wanted to prove yourself. You knew you were good.

You turned off you lights and put your phone on the nightstand. Finally you were in the comfort of your own bed. Ready to fall asleep and dream the night away. Trying not to think about how early you had to wake up tomorrow. You had finally found a comfortable sleeping position after squirming around a bit. You felt all your muscles relax, starting to recognise the slow fade of sleep.

But suddenly a loud noice filled the room. Your body tensed again, jumping at the sudden sound. You rolled your eyes as you turned around, annoyed at yourself that you forgot to turn on ‘do not disturb’. Your phone screen lit up in your face, you squinted at the bright light hitting your eyes. You managed to decipher a message from an unknown number. You didn’t open it, writing a mental note to check it out tomorrow. If it was one of your patients they would have to wait until the morning. It was almost unprofessional to answer a text at 1 am.

You entered the doors to your workplace, expecting to see Erin behind the counter smiling at you.

“Good morning, Erin.”

You said like you always do. You halted once you saw her sitting there, not smiling, not saying anything. She just looked at you with a concerning look. Before you could ask her what’s wrong you looked over at the waiting chairs. You had seen a person in your peripheral view, something that was odd considering the office wasn’t even open to patients yet. You quickly understood what was going on once you saw who was sitting there.

“Good morning, Doctor.”

His familiar voice filled the dead quiet room. It had almost been a year since you last saw him. He had not contacted you after the incident in your office. You had almost, almost, forgotten him. But there he was, looking the exact same as you remembered him.

“Mr. Jeon.”

You stated. Not really knowing what to say. You were caught off guard by the whole situation. Some naive part of you thought that he had gotten what he wanted and would leave you alone. Forever.

“I thought you had stopped calling me that. Aren’t we more intimate at this point?”

You sighed at his question. Looking over at Erin for a second to see if she understood what he meant.

“He said he wanted to see you. I told him we wer-“

“It’s fine Erin, Mr. Jeon can be quite persuasive.”

You interrupted her as she started to apologise for letting him in. You looked back to him. His classic smirk was plastered on his face.

“I have an hour before my first patient arrives.”

You said and looked quickly at your wristwatch, before starting to walk down the hall towards your office. You heard his footsteps following behind you.

Once inside your office you took off your jacket and hung it up before sitting down behind your desk. He was quick to sit down on the sofa. A sense of deja vu washed over you.

“Why are you here, Jungkook?”

He looked confused by your question.

“You didn’t see my messages? Or my voicemails?”

It was your turn to look confused, as you couldn’t remember getting any texts or calls from him.

“Maybe you were asleep, I don’t know.”

He shrugged. You remembered the message from last night. The one you didn’t bother to read. You picked your phone up from your bag, turning off ‘do not disturb’. Hundreds of notifications from the same number appeared on your lock screen.

“You were the one that messaged me last night?”

You asked as you opened your phone.

“So you did read them?”

He asked in excitement. You shook your head at his question, too focused on your phone. You opened iMessage and hit the top notification. A series of long paragraphs of text appeared.

“I didn’t think it was you.”

You mumbled as you scrolled upwards trying to get to the start of what he had sent you.

“Listen, I’ll just tell you. It feels weird to watch you read something I poured my heart into.”

You looked up at him, before you put the phone down on your desk. Crossing your arms over your chest.

“Be quick.”

He thought for a second about where to start and what the most important things to tell you were.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m ready now.”

The room went quiet as you waited for him to continue. He didn’t.

“What are you talking about?”

You asked confused.

“That’s the brief version of it. You told me to be quick.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“I think I need a little more than that.”

He smiled at you like a child telling a joke for the first time. He leaned slightly forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I’ve seen another psychologist. He’s helped me a lot. I’m doing well, I’m not some self absorbed dick, I’m not so angry anymore. And I’ve gotten to know your father as well. I’ve done my end of the promise, now it’s your turn, y/n.”

He got serious at the last sentence. Shifting his eyes from the innocent doe, to the man you remembered from your last meeting.

“You went to my father?”

You asked in shock, not caring for whatever he said after that.

“Yeah. Might as well get to know my future father-in-law a little better while I fulfilled my promise.”

You let your head fall down to your hands, and let out a long sigh. Visibly showing him that you were upset.

“I’m happy you’re doing better, I really am. But I did not promise you anything. Definitely not to marry you.”

His eyes changed again. You could tell he was upset.

“Don’t you think you owe me that?”

He asked slyly, cocking his head slightly to the side. You shook your head.

“You can’t hold that over my head forever. It’s not fair!”

You answered strictly.

“I’m not holding it over your head, baby. I’m asking you.”

“Well, then my answer is no. I don’t owe you shit. Now get out of my office.”

You answered quickly. Wanting him to leave so you didn’t get too upset, and started making bad decisions again.

“We don’t have to get married right away, or not at all if you just want to be my girlfriend.”

He offered. You suddenly stood up from your chair, pointing angrily towards the door.

“Out.”

You said.

“I don’t care if I owe you. I don’t care if you’ve gotten better. You’re still a mobster, you’re still a murderer and you’re still a sociopath. I could never date you. I could never even be friends with you. Don’t you understand?”

You ranted when he didn’t leave the sofa. He shook his head and kept his eyes on the floor.

“It’s him isn’t it?”

He asked, still not looking up at you. He was frightening like that. You felt the same fear, you felt the first time he talked to you like that. He was showing his true colours.

“Who?”

You asked carefully as you sat back down again. He looked up at you with anger and jealousy in his eyes.

“Your new patient. The jailbird, you spend a lot of time with him.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, and? He’s nothing but my patient.”

“Are you sure? I’ve seen him on the news, he’s quite attractive. Just your type.”

You scoffed and gave him an offended look.

“Yes I’m sure. Who are you to accuse me of having an affair with a patient?”

“Because you had one with me.”

You sighed.

“We did not have an affair.”

You stated, not daring to look him in the eyes.

“Then what do you call it?”

The room got quiet. To be honest you never thought about what you would call it. You didn’t want to think about it at all. It went against everything you stood for.

“Please, just leave.”

You said, you felt your eyes getting watery for some reason. Maybe it was because you were scared, or surprised. Or maybe even sad to see him again.

“I can tell you’re upset. We still need to work things out. Can we talk sometime? Not here, somewhere not so formal.”

You looked up at him again. His eyes were soft, he seemed to really care that you were affected negatively by this. For some reason you found it endearing.

“You can come to my place, we can talk and-“

“There’s no way I’m voluntarily going to your place.”

You interrupted him. He looked down in defeat for a few seconds.

“Please, y/n. I just want to show you that I’m better. I want to show you all I’ve done for you. I don’t want to argue with you.”

He said softly. His eyes were also teary now. You hated yourself for getting affected by his feelings. You hated that you thought this was a tender moment.

“Do you promise that we’ll only be talking?”

You asked. Not knowing why you were agreeing to this in the first place. Maybe you were naive, but it seemed that he actually had changed. Even if he still was delusional and obsessive.

“Of course, I would never do anything to harm you. I love you.”

He said, slightly excited. The room got quiet once again. You had silently agreed to meet him at his place.

“I’ll send you the address. I’ll see you on Thursday.”

He said, before getting up and walking out the door.

“Wait-“

You tried to say, but he was already gone. You wouldn’t be able to make it on Thursday.

You sat down at the table, waiting for the guards to bring in Mr. Kim. This week had been stressful. Not only because of your case with Mr. Kim, but also because of all your other patients. It was hard having time for them while handling such a big case as his. You had to work overtime the entire week, and you were exhausted.

“Good afternoon, y/n.”

He said as two guards brought him in. He had learned your first name quickly, and refused to use your title or last name.

“Hello, Mr. Kim. How are you?”

He smiled, and waited to answer until the guards had chained his legs to the table and left the room. You never felt unsafe being alone with him, even if he was a convicted murderer. His hands were always handcuffed, the same with his legs, so he couldn’t reach you. You knew the guards watched you from outside the big tinted glass. It allowed you to lower your guard, and treat him like you treat your other patients.

“I’m doing amazing now that you’re here.”

He said and smirked. Like Jungkook said, he was attractive. His hair was always combed back, and the all grey clothing actually suited him. He had some kind of lightning tattoo that went up his neck, due to his clothing you didn’t know if he had any more of them.

“How are you, sweetheart?”

He asked back. Still keeping intense eye contact with you.

“We did talk about not calling me anything but my name, do you remember that?”

You asked him strictly. He chuckled.

“It’s hard not to call you something you are, don’t you like compliments?”

You started taking off your coat. It was cold when you entered, but with two people in the little room it was too warm to keep your wool coat on.

“We’re not here to talk about me. I’ve given you permission to use my first name, that’s all.”

You said as you draped the coat over your chair. You looked back at him, he wasn’t looking you in your eyes anymore. This time his eyes were focused on your exposed cleavage. You hadn’t worn low cut tops with him yet, only oversized jumpers due to the weather. You suddenly became very aware of yourself and pulled your top up, trying to hide more of your cleavage. His eyes went back to your face, and you decided that you would wear something less revealing next time.

“Whatever you say, y/n.”

He put extra pressure on your name this time. You gave him a small smile, before you looked down at your notes.

“Why don’t we start were we ended things? Do you remember what I told you I wanted us to talk about?”

He sighed, but nodded.

“My teenage years?”

He asked. You nodded back at him.

“I was a good teenager, I didn’t do drugs, I came home before my curfew, did well in school.”

He memorised.

“But I did like girls. I really did. It was my weakness.”

He said, quickly flickering his eyes down to your cleavage again.

“Why do you say it was your weakness?”

You asked, writing it down in your notes. He started smirking again.

“Since I was such a good teenager, I stayed home a lot. After I did my homework or studied for tests I didn’t have anything to do. Until I found porn.”

He let out a groan, almost like he was in pleasure just by the thought.

“I would spend all day just jerking off to random girls online. Whenever I saw a pretty girl outside I would go straight home and jerk off to her too.”

You felt yourself getting a bit uncomfortable at his bluntness, but didn’t say anything to let him continue. You focused on your notes instead.

“It would take up my entire day, I felt crazy at times. And now that I don’t have anything to do, I find myself doing the same in my cell.”

You nodded, still looking down at your notes. Not wanting to look at him while he talked about something so intimate.

“But the only one I can think about is you.”

He said almost as if he was out of breath. You finally looked at him. And saw that one of his hands had slid under the waistband of his trousers.

“Come over here and sit on me, baby.”

He moaned. You didn’t know what to do or say, you froze. The door opened and two guards came in.

“No- please! Y/n! Please fuck me! I need you. I fucking need you so bad!”

He yelled as he was practically carried out of the room. You sat there speechless, in the now empty room.

“I think it’s best for him to have a male psychologist, I can no longer treat him.”

You called Mr. Kim’s lawyer the minute you sat down in your car. You told him what had happened.

“I’m sorry this happened to you.”

He said back.

“I’ll send all my notes to the man you’ll appoint.”

“Thank you for your help, Dr. Y/l/n.”

You said a small goodbye, before you hung up. While you were driving home you started to think about what happened today. You felt useless and it felt unfair. Why did you have to end up in all kinds of mess. First it was Jungkook, and now Mr. Kim.

Jungkook. You had completely forgot that you were supposed to meet him today. You sighed. Meeting him was the last thing you wanted to do. Maybe it was better to just say you forgot if he contacts you again. Since your session ended earlier than expected, you would actually have time to eat a proper meal and go to bed at a reasonable time. And with Mr. Kim’s case being transferred to someone else, you could finally use all your time on your normal patients. Even if the day had been horrible, you still had a massive weight lifted off your shoulders.

You walked up to your door, struggling with your keys to find the right one. Once you found it you put it in the keyhole and twisted, hearing the familiar click. You reached for the door handle and attempted to open it. But it didn’t budge. Did you not lock your door this morning? You twisted the key the other way again, and thought that it must be the exhaustion taking a toll on you.

When you finally were inside your own house you took off your coat and hung it up with your bag. You took off your shoes and looked at yourself in the big mirror you have in your hallway. You looked down at the white low cut top. It wasn’t even that low, but a part of your cleavage did show. In what felt like a fit of rage you took it off yourself. Hurriedly lifting it over your head and throwing it on the floor. You never wanted to wear that top again. You stormed over to the kitchen. You needed something to drink, you were so thirsty. So thirsty that you failed to notice the man sitting in your sofa. You swung the fridge door open, grabbing a carton of orange juice and downing what was left of it.

“Rough day?”

A voice emitted. You jumped and your heart started raising. You looked over at the sofa where the voice came from. Jungkook? Jungkook. You quickly ducked down behind the counter, remembering that you were only in your bra.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?!”

You yelled at him. You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream, you were so confused. What was going on?

“Y/n, calm down! Please.”

You heard him get up from the sofa, taking hasty steps towards you. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and you suddenly jumped up again and grabbed a knife. Pointing it towards him. He quickly halted, putting his hands slightly up in front of him.

“Come on, it’s just me.”

He said, leaning his head to the side.

“Exactly!”

You said, slowly moving away from him.

“Why are you here? How did you get in?”

You yelled at him, firmly holding the knife between the two of you.

“Baby, please calm down.”

“How can I calm down?! You broke into my house!”

He sighed, and went quiet for a moment.

“Put the knife down, you know I won’t do anything to you. Please, let’s just talk. That’s why I’m here.”

He said in a calm voice. You shook your head, you felt like you were going to have a panic attack. This was all too much for you. You threw the knife onto the kitchen counter and covered your eyes. You started crying. You were so overwhelmed. From the situation earlier today, to Jungkook suddenly appearing in your life again, to just the pure exhaustion. You needed to cry. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You couldn’t put up the facade you usually do. And suddenly you felt two arms wrapping around you. He hugged you. And for a moment you leaned into it. You felt safe in his arms. It comforted you. It reminded you of when your father hugged you after your first boyfriend broke up with you. It was like knowing that someone cared for you when you felt as if the whole world was against you. Until you remembered who was hugging you. Because it definitely wasn’t your father. And the reality of you standing in just your bra with someone that broke into your house hit.

“Get off of me!”

You suddenly screamed, and started pushing his strong chest. Tears still streaming down your face.

“I hate you! I fucking hate you, Jungkook! My life has been a nightmare since the minute I met you!”

You screamed at him with all your lung capacity. Your throat got immediately sore.

“You’re fucking crazy! And I’m tired of playing your fucking games!”

He took several steps away from you, but you walked after him. Pointing your finger in his face.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you?! How can you be so fucking awful?! You’re an awful person!”

He continued to stay silent through your fit of rage. Letting you ride it out.

“I hate you.”

You said, calming down but still crying.

“I hate you so much.”

You said taking a deep breath. You wiped your tears. He didn’t say anything. He just stood there. Speechless. You adverted your eyes to the floor.

“Please leave. Can you please leave me alone? Please, just-“

You started, continuing to wipe your tears. You had resulted to begging him to leave your life.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jungkook. I can’t.”

He grabbed your chin softly, raising your head up to meat his eyes. He was also crying. He silently kissed you. And you let him, too exhausted to do anything else. He pecked your lips, before walking away. He left you there, all alone in your kitchen. As you heard the door close behind him you fell down to the floor. Continuing to weep.

After a month of silence from your former patient you felt content. It had been a month, and there was no sign of him. Your life had gone back to normal again. It was definitely a good thing to tell him exactly what you meant. This time you had been harsh on him, to make him understand you were definitely not interested.

After three months you started thinking that maybe you had been too harsh on him. Maybe you should’ve eased him out of your life. Not gone all crazy on him. But he didn’t contact you, and you were definitely not going to contact him. So telling him that you were sorry was out of the question.

On the fourth month you thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to contact him. Just to tell him you were sorry for being mean of course. He was really attached to you in his own weird way. Getting rejected by someone you had planned out your entire life with must be hard. What if he had gone back to his old ways? What if your rejection caused him to live in agony? To fall into depression?

On the fifth month you found yourself standing in the lobby of his hotel. If you were going to apologise, you were going to do it in person. That’s way more genuine rather than over a text. You definitely didn’t want to see him again, but anything for a real heartfelt apology!

“I’d like to see Mr. Jeon, is he here?”

You asked before the receptionist could say anything. He smiled at you.

“Is Mr. Jeon expecting you?”

He asked in a costumer support voice. You shook your head.

“No he isn’t.”

You answered short.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you access to his suite if he’s not expecting you.”

You rolled your eyes. You knew you had to lie.

“He’s not expecting me, but I’m his psychologist, ok? I need to talk with him, it’s important.”

You said in your serious voice. Shoving your business card in his face like you were a cop.

“I’m sorry-“

“You will be sorry if you don’t help me out here.”

You hit your palms onto the counter before you. The man slightly jumped at your action.

“Look, I’m not asking for the fucking key to his nightstand, I just want to know his room number for gods sake!”

You were starting to get annoyed at the poor man just trying to do his job. He looked quite frightened at your outburst. He thought for a second, before he nodded.

“717.”

He simply said. You thanked him and hurried over to the elevator. Once you reached his door you stopped yourself. Was this really the right thing to do? Maybe you should just leave, he wasn’t your concern anymore. Why weren’t you happy he was out of your life? Why? Why? Why?! The door suddenly opened, and you were sucked out of your thoughts. A man stood there, a familiar man, but not Jungkook.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

He said with a smirk on his face. He quickly pulled you into a hug. Letting his hands drop dangerously low on your waist. He took a deep inhale of your hair, letting out a small groan. It gave you instantly chills in all the wrong places. You tried pulling away from the incredibly awkward hug, but his grip on you was tight. He decided when the hug ended, but stayed close to you. Resting his hands on your hips.

“Let go of me! What are you doing here?”

You asked him and tried to get som distance from him, pushing at his chest. But his strong grip on your hips didn’t loosen.

“What are you doing here is the real question. A pretty woman like you shouldn’t be in a hotel like this.”

“Get off of me!”

He smirked and leaned in closer to you again. Whispering in your ear.

“Why don’t you come with me to my room? I still can’t get you off my mind, sweetheart.”

Someone cleared their throat loudly next to you. Taehyung reacted immediately. Jungkook. You looked at him, but he didn’t look at you. His eyes were focused on Taehyungs hands, planted on your hips.

“She said ‘get off’.”

He almost growled. Taehyung smiled, but removed his hands. Putting them defensively up in the air.

“Sorry, boss. Just had to catch up with my psychologist. She’s the girl I told you about.”

Taehyung started. You were in shock. They knew each other?

“I know.”

He answered and looked at you for the first time. There was a sort of a melancholy feeling in his eyes.

“You know it all, man. I’ll just-“

“Leave.”

Jungkook finished his sentence for him.

“Yeah, leave. I’ll leave. Nice seeing you again, y/n. We have to meet up sometime.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

You answered quickly, not taking your eyes off Jungkook.

“I won’t take no for an answer, baby.”

Taehyung said and stepped closer to you again.

“Yes you will, now leave.”

Jungkook said strictly.

“Okaaay, I’ll leave. Whatever.”

He said and walked away. You followed Taehyung with your eyes, watching as he disappeared into one of the rooms down the hall. When you looked back at Jungkook, you discovered he had been staring at you the entire time. You felt anger building up inside you.

“Don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”

You said, you almost sounded hurt.

“It’s not like that.”

He answered. You rolled your eyes at him. He didn’t exactly sound convincing. You had no intention of apologising to him anymore.

“Let me guess, you didn’t hire Mr. Kim to ruin my case so I could run back right into your arms? It was just a convenience that you were waiting for me when I came home, right?”

You asked in a sarcastic tone. He went quiet. You scoffed and turned to walk away. He grabbed your arm harshly so you couldn’t leave.

“I didn’t, I promise. Let me explain, please.

You sighed.

“Let me go.”

He shook his head.

“Y/n, just come-“

“Let me go.”

You interrupted him. After a few seconds he listened to you, and let go of your arm. You stood still, contemplating if you should leave for good this time. Instead, you slipped passed him into his room. His suite was huge, it was more like an apartment really. Modern with expensive furniture and paintings scattered around the room. He had a lot of money, you knew that, but you didn’t know it was to this extent.

“You better explain-“

You were suddenly caught off guard by his strong arms turning you around and embracing you in a tight hug.

“You came back to me! I knew you would! Oh, I’m so happy to see you again, baby!”

He said in a boyish tone. It was a sharp contrast to his interaction with Taehyung. You weren’t able to immediately react, getting lost in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you once again.

“Stop it, Jungkook. I’m still angry with you.”

You said and wiggled out of his hug. He looked at you with hurt in his eyes as he saw you brushing off imaginary dust from your skirt.

“I understand. Sit, I’ll get you something to drink.”

He said and walked out of the room. You did as you were told, sitting down on his white cashmere sofa. He came back with two cups of tea, placing them carefully on the glass table before sitting down beside you. You didn’t say anything, you waited for him to say the first word.

“Just uh- please just listen to me ok?”

He asked and looked at you. You nodded.

“I didn’t exactly plan this. Taehyung was stupid enough to get caught and ended up in prison. I told my lawyer to get you on his case. I knew a case like that would be amazing for your career.”

You shook your head disappointedly.

“I’ve told you I don’t want your help. Why-“

“Listen, y/n. Please just let me explain.”

You sighed and crossed your arms, but you stayed silent.

“Anyways, after a while he confessed to me that he was in love with you.”

You watched his entire body go stiff at his statement. He clenched his fists in jealousy.

“You know I’m willing to go lengths for you to succeed, baby. But- I had to stop him. I refuse to let him have you like that. Especially when we weren’t even talking to each other. So that night I sent you all those messages.”

He unclenched his hands and put his hand carefully on your knee.

“I knew he would do whatever I told him to, so I said if he got you out of the case I’d get him out of prison.”

“So you asked him to jerk off in front of me?”

Jungkooks face changed drastically. He did not seem pleased about the new piece of information you just gave him.

“He did that?”

He asked, his tone had changed from apologetic to dangerous. You nodded. His grip around your knee tightened. You put your hand over his, to show him that he was hurting you.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”

He said looking you straight in the eye. Another set of chills ran down your back. You knew he meant it. It was not a loose threat.

“This isn’t about him, Jungkook. You pushed him do it. And then you broke into my house, expecting to be treated like some kind of hero.”

You pushed his hand off your knee. He started staring into the air. A million thoughts running through his head.

“I don’t understand how you can’t see that your behaviour is insane?”

You stated. He was still being quiet.

“You need to stop.”

You said a little calmer, trying to comfort him.

“I did.”

He said and looked at you.

“I did stop, because that’s what I thought you wanted. But now you were the one that came to me.”

He caught you off guard. It was your turn to be quiet this time.

“I’ll always do what’s best for you, because I love you, y/n. I don’t care how insane I sound or look to you. But why are you here if you think that of me?”

You looked away from him, knowing you had no rebuttal.

“You called me an awful person, you told me you hated me. And I can take it. But I can’t take another rejection from you! I just can’t!”

He raised his voice now. He was getting emotional.

“I’m sorry.”

You said so lightly it was almost a whisper. He stopped ranting and the room got quiet.

“That’s why I came here. To tell you that I’m sorry.”

You looked back to him again. His eyes were big and filled with so much love. You had never seen him like that before.

“I’m sorry I said I hated you, and that you’re crazy and an awful person. None of it true.”

He nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact with you. You became quiet again.

“Is that it?”

He asked carefully. You nodded, shifting awkwardly in the sofa.

“Yeah, I should probably leave.”

You said, taking his hint. Preparing to walk out and never seeing him again.

“No.”

He said, and shifted towards the end of the seat.

“No, not like that.”

He said in a hurry, and took ahold of you hands. You looked confused at him.

“I didn’t mean for you to leave. Don’t leave.”

He sounded almost desperate, clinging onto your hands. You nodded and gave him a short smile.

“What I meant to say is, is that the only reason you came here?”

You thought for a second. Was saying sorry the only reason you came? That’s at least what you told yourself. But at the same time you felt like you owed him more. You didn’t know what you felt. You had been an emotional wreck for months now.

“Yes.”

You answered. Trying to keep cool and not overthink the entire situation. You didn’t want to see him, you had to. Because you’re a good person. That’s all. That’s it. But it didn’t feel like it. It definitely didn’t feel like it. It felt like you longed to see him.

“You’re lying.”

You were ripped out of your thoughts by his statement. You shook your head defensively.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

You opened your mouth to argue back, but he spoke first.

“If it was a clear ‘yes’ you wouldn’t have to think about it. I know you better than you think, y/n.”

He repositioned himself so he could look right at you.

“Come on, ask me anything about yourself and I’ll tell you.”

You looked briefly at your wristwatch.

“I don’t know, maybe I should leave.”

“Just give me a chance, y/n.”

He said.

“If I don’t get it right I’ll let you leave.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, but still turning more towards him, accepting his offer.

“What’s my mothers name?”

You asked. He gave you a knowing look.

“Come on, that’s easy. Give me something that isn’t on Google.”

You let out a small laugh.

“You didn’t say her name though.”

“Christina, now give me something good. Something deep.”

You smiled, but had to think for a second.

“When did I loose my virginity?”

His smile turned to a smirk.

“You were 16 at Mae’s birthday party. You were drinking, and her boyfriend August hit on you. He took you to her bed and fucked you right there. No wonder Mae isn’t your friend anymore. You’re a bitch.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. Deep down it was scary that he knew something so intimate in great detail, but for some reason you were having fun with his little game.

“Ok ok. But now it’s your turn, when did you loose your virginity?”

He let out a nervous laugh at your question.

“This quiz isn’t about me.”

He stated and pulled his hand through his hair. You tilted your head slightly downwards and looked at him through your lashes and with a pout.

“I think it’s only fair that I know your story, since you know mine so well.”

He smiled at you, but looked away for a few seconds. Contemplating if he should tell you or not. When you saw him shy away, you suddenly felt as if you were digging into something he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You said, and placed your hand on top of his. Your fun voice was toned down to your regular speech again.

“No, I’ll share it. No worries.”

He said and looked back to you. You nodded and turned completely towards him. Crossing your legs and resting your arm on the backrest of the sofa, ready to hear his story.

“My first time was around one and a half year ago, in your office, with the girl of my dreams.”

He said dead serious. You snickered at him, thinking he was joking. But he didn’t laugh.

“You can’t be serious.”

You stated, he nodded proudly.

“Why wouldn’t I be, like I said you’re my dream girl. Why would I waste my time on others when the only one I want is you?”

He asked rhetorically. You crossed your eyebrows in confusion.

“You’ve never had sex? Ever?”

You asked in shock. His image did not fit the virgin title whatsoever.

“Once. With you.”

You smiled, but shook your head in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious. You probably have girls throw themselves at you.”

His hand found your knee again. This time it was placed a little further up.

“The only one I want is you. I waited for you because I knew you would be worth it. Because I love you.”

He said in a low tone, slightly stroking the inside of your thigh. The two of you were close, so close that you were aware of the proximity. The tension in the air got thicker and thicker from the power of his last words. His face started moving slowly towards you, and you gave in. Meeting his lips. The kiss started slow, but he was quick to rush it. Grabbing your neck to deepen the kiss. You were suddenly overwhelmed by the reality of what you were doing, and pulled away.

“We can’t do this.”

You simply said. Focusing on your hands on your lap. His hand went to push a strand of your hair out of your face.

“Why?”

He didn’t sound angry or impatient. He sounded like he cared. It was so much different from the first time the two of you shared a moment like that. He had really changed, and that was the problem.

“I’m not your patient anymore, y/n. I don’t want anything from you.”

You looked up at him again, and he caressed your face in a loving matter.

“Except for you of course.”

His face got closer again, but this time you didn’t kiss him. You abruptly got up from the sofa, and opted for looking down at him instead. You took a deep breath.

“You’re not doing anything wrong by having sex with me. Again, I’m not your patient.”

He said a little bit louder, trying to calm you down.

“I can’t have sex with you because I’ll fall in love with you.”

You couldn’t believe those words came out of your mouth. You had been in denial this entire time, but you knew yourself. This would not end well. You couldn’t bare to fall in love with someone that would ruin your image and reputation. You just couldn’t. He looked at you like you were some kind of god. Like all his wishes were finally answered.

“Why is that a bad thing?”

He asked, you shook your head.

“I can’t let that happen, Jungkook. It’s going to ruin my career.”

You sat back down, leaning your elbows on your thighs and your head in your hands.

“I have done nothing but help your career. Why can’t you just trust me?”

He put his hand on your back, stroking you lightly. You looked at him again.

“Please, trust me y/n.”

Fuck it, you thought, before you caught him off guard with your forceful kiss. He was quick to get the memo, kissing you back with the same hastiness and lust. You found your way onto his lap without breaking the kiss. Once you were straddling him, you felt his already hard cock grinding against you. He was desperate for you. A muffled groan escaped his lips when your hand went down to remove his belt.

“Wait.”

He said as he pulled away from you. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were wet and plump.

“Let me taste you.”

It sounded more like a question than a statement. His whole aura was so different from the needy rough man you remembered from the last time.

“Please.”

You got off his lap, taking your top off slowly. Watching him as his face turned in awe of the sight of your tits. His eyes were only on you as you shimmied out of your skirt, letting it pool on the floor. You laid down on the sofa, spreading your legs for him. He quickly removed his shirt, before getting on his stomach. His hand ran slowly down your abdomen, before he reached your slit. He split your lips with the same hand, before he dove right into you. You could tell he was inexperienced, but the rapid use of tongue on your clit sent waves of pleasure throughout your body. You let out extra pound moans whenever he would hit a good spot, and luckily he was a quick learner.

Once he had the hang of it, his hand moved down to your vagina, pushing two fingers in. Your back arched at the speed of the overstimulation. Feeling your orgasm approach quicker than usual. You grabbed his hair, pushing him deeper into you, preparing for your release.

“Don’t stop, Jungkook! I’m close.”

He moaned by your words, the vibrations making you tip over the edge. Your legs closed in on him, locking him in place. As you rode out your high. Once you had calmed down, you let go of his hair. And his face popped up from between your legs. He climbed on top of you, kissing you passionately. You tasted yourself on his lips.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.”

He said in between kisses and moans.

“I almost came just from eating you out.”

He started fiddling with his belt, but you stopped him. Placing a hand on his chest carefully.

“Let me.”

You simply said, before he moved off you. He sat down again, and you crawled onto the floor. Seating yourself between his legs. You looked up at him as your hands slowly traveled up his thighs. He was even more flushed now, his hair sticking to his forehead. You could tell he was impatient. Flicking his eyes between your hands and your eyes.

“Please, y/n.”

He uttered with a heavy breath. You smirked up at him, finally reaching his belt. You took your time with it as well. Once it was open, he was quick to pull down his pants and underwear. Letting his cock spring free. You got on top of him again, slowly lowering yourself onto his cock. He jerked up the second he felt your pussy on him. His thick cock stretched your walls out, and a moan escaped both your lips.

“Just relax, I’ll take care of you this time.”

You said in a low voice, placing your hands on his shoulders. His hands went straight to your ass, giving your cheeks a tight squeeze. You kissed him gently before you started riding him. His head fell back in pleasure once you started your movements. Bouncing up and down his cock. His hands dug deeper into your skin. He filled you to the brim, and every bounce felt amazing.

“Fuck! I’m not- gonna last long.”

He moaned and looked back at you. You then leaned your hands backwards onto his thighs. Your head fell slightly back as you moaned at the new angle.

“Y/n, slow down!”

He moaned as his hands moved to your thighs. Trying halfheartedly to stop you. But you didn’t stop. And suddenly you felt him coming inside you. His hips lifted you up, as he released himself. And when you felt like he was finished you stopped. You rapped your hands around his shoulders as you fell onto his chest. The room got quiet, the only sound being your heavy breathing.

You weren’t able to think about the consequences of your actions at that point. You only felt satisfaction and lust. And maybe even love…

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