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cowboybeepboop · 2 months ago

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Sweetness

"I care about you, more than I probably should."

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd

Genre: Smut

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: You finally find out the real reason behind Bob’s protective side.

a/n: I saw Thunderbolts* yesterday, and I’m craving more of Lewis Pullman 😛😩

This team gets on your nerves, whether it’s Hangman’s cocky asshole attitude or Roosters constant issues with Mav. Somehow you’re always getting in the middle of something and you’re tired of these damn pushups.

Bob is your weapons systems officer. He’s sweet and nothing but kind when it comes to you. It’s frustrating, though, because you know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but you don’t need him to stick up for you.

It feels like he pities you, he challenges hangman when he says asshole things, he defends your choices when Mav questions you. He just doesn’t understand that you can speak for yourself.

These dog-fights with Maverick have almost been the death of you. Maybe you’re an overachiever, but you’ve never needed to keep redoing and redoing exercises. It’s never been an issue for you to work in a team, but Hangman refuses to.

“Fuck!” you slam your hand against the dash of the plane, tears building in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you sigh away the anger, letting your head fall back against the seat. Bob tenses in the seat behind you as you land the plane.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” his voice rings out, bringing you back into reality.

“Yep. Let’s just get this over with.” Your tone is more firm than usual, irritation filling your veins as you exit the vehicle.

Hangman begins spewing his usual bullshit, cockiness radiating off him even though you just lost. Bob argues with Hangman in the background as you ignore them, getting ready to get those damn pushups out of the way.

The only thing you need right now is an ice-cold shower and whiskey on the rocks. You’re pulling your uniform off your shoulders while walking toward the bar, Bob is hot on your heels, along with Rooster and FanBoy.

“How’s it goin’?” Bradley wraps an arm around your shoulder, the familiarity of his touch doing little to ease your annoyance. You shift out of his embrace, not wanting to talk to anyone.

Bob and Rooster make eye contact, shrugging as they notice your strange mood. “You got this one, Bob?” he nods in response, following after you once again.

“Y/N?” he settles down next to you at the bar, shifting his weight as you stare down at the counter. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” You ignore him, taking down your drink in one gulp.

“I’m alright, Bob, just.. Annoyed.” you sigh, glancing at him slightly. He nods in response, fingers fumbling with his beer bottle.

“Did-” he begins before you cut him off.

“We were so close, Bob!” your tone is laced with irritation, “We almost got him and then you got, distracted.” You roll your eyes, sliding the glass to the side.

“I know.. I know and I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that, you shouldn’t have needed to do all those pushups because of my-” you glare at him, everything he does just annoys you, he’s so nice even when you don’t deserve it.

“Why do you take the blame for every little thing?” Maybe it’s the alcohol, but you’re hot, irritated, and red hot. “Leave it alone, Bob.” You storm out, admittedly a little childish, but you need the fresh air.

Sitting down on the porch, you breathe in the scent of sea water, the wood creaks under a pair of boots next to you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to do anything to frustrate you.” his tone is the same soft and gentle one per usual. “If I can do anything, say anything, get you anything, please just let me know. I wanna help, we’re a pair, Y/N,” he says, settling down next to you cautiously.

“Bob, you’re annoying me.” You groan, hating the butterflies in your stomach, and his heart drops as he straightens up. Your words sting him a little more than intended, and you see it in his demeanor.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that..” you trail off chewing on your lip while watching him fumble with his hands.” I didn’t mean to, you dont deserve that, it’s just frustrating to have you constantly siding with me, being so nice, and sticking up for me.” you groan.

“I know you mean well, but I can fight my own battles Bob.” you sigh, shifting uncomfortably as you look him over.

Bob looks down at his hands, the sound of his fingers cracking fills the air as he processes your words. He hates your irritation being directed at him, but he knows you’re right. He’s been a little overprotective lately, and you’re feeling chafed by his kindness. It’s not what he wanted.

“It’s just…” Bob pauses, his mind struggling to find the right words. “It’s not about thinking you can’t fight your own battles. I mean, I know you can.” Bob leans back, resting his head against a pole.

“I know we’re a team, but we haven’t worked together like this before, not on a mission this important.” you sigh, resting your face in your hands. "I just wish you wouldn't make me look so weak in front of everyone, just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I need pity, Bob." You shut your eyes, taking steadying breaths.

Bob's eyes widen slightly, finally being able to grasp what is going on. He's been treating you like you're fragile, and you're getting fed up. It hits him like a truck, and the guilt instantly seeps into his bones.

"I know... I know, you're strong," he says, the shame evident in his voice. "I don't think you're weak, and I *don't* pity you." Bob's fingers twist together, frustration with himself bubbling up within him.

Bob rubs his face, he’s always had a crush on you, ever since he laid eyes on you. For Bob, you’re not just a talented pilot and a teammate, you’re smart, strong-willed, independent, and absolutely gorgeous.

His protective nature stems from the fact that he cares about you, a little more than he should. He’s scared of losing you, of getting you hurt, and it shows in his overprotectiveness and constant apologizing.

“I’m sorry, Bob, I shouldn’t have held this against you. Hangman is the one who left us to fend for our own. It’s not your fault.” You lean closer to him, brushing your shoulder against his.

Bob's shoulders tense up for a moment, caught off guard by your sudden apology. Your touch, even as simple as your shoulder against his, has his heart beating faster. He relaxes a little, feeling relieved that you're not as irritated with him anymore.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice soft as he relaxes his tense shoulders, he takes a deep breath. "But I still want to apologize for being so overprotective."

“I guess I just don’t understand why you’re so protective when it comes to *me*,” you scan his face, eyes wandering his features. “I know we’re friends outside of work, but.. I just don’t get it.”

Bob's heart leaps into his throat, his mind racing with nerves. This is the moment, the one he’s been scared of for the past few months. He’s always liked you, but he’s kept it to himself because of his shy nature, and he was afraid of ruining your friendship.

He takes a shaky breath, his fingers trembling as he fidgets with them."I…uhh" Bob struggles to find the right words, the truth on the tip of his tongue.

"Yeah?" you question, scooting closer to him, basking in the gentle heat of his body.

Bob's heart pounds in his chest, his cheeks heating up from your close proximity. He can smell your perfume, and the closeness makes his knees weak.

"I… I care about you a lot," he manages, his voice shaky, eyes refusing to meet yours. Bob's hands twitch with the nervous energy that courses through him, his fingers clenching into fists and unclenching rhythmically.

"A lot?" Your cheeks turn a slight pink. "In what way, Bob?"

Bob's words get stuck in his throat, his breath hitches as he looks up at you, your eyes burning into his soul. He swallows hard, unable to hold your gaze, but at the same time craving it.

"In every way imaginable," he breathes out, his heart pounding against his ribcage, "I care about you, more than I probably should." This is it, all or nothing, he can't back out now.

You take in a shaky breath, eyes focusing on everything but him as his words echo in your mind.

Bob watches your face, his heart in his throat as he waits for your response. The silence between you both is loud, making him almost sick to his stomach as he waits for your reaction. He’s so desperate to know what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling, but your expression is unreadable.

"Please say something," he mutters softly, his hand twitching to reach out and touch you, but his fear stops him.

You clear your throat, standing up and stretching, and your heart is racing in your chest. Being with Bob, it's what you want, but what if it changes things or makes both of you unable to go on the mission? Your mind is reeling, and you begin to pace.

Bob follows your movements with his gaze, your nervous behavior making his heart ache. He knows he messed up, he should have kept his stupid feelings to himself. Now he's just made everything awkward.

With you moving around so much, unable to sit still, he stands up as well, worry etched across his face. "Y/N, I'm sorry, I didn't-" his voice is trembling as he tries to apologize, but you simply start pacing.

You shake your head, "You don't need to apologize, Bob." Turning back to him, you take a few steps until you're right in front of him again.

Bob stands still, his heart practically beating out of his chest, as you walk closer to him. Your proximity takes his breath away, and he can’t tear his eyes off your face. All he can focus on is your every move, the way your lips are slightly parted, and how your cheeks are tinged pink.

He has to fight the urge to pull you into his arms and hold you close, but the nervousness in his veins keeps him rooted to the spot. "Y/N..” he breathes out, his voice low and unsteady.

"Bob," you whisper, "Please.." Your words, your simple plea, are all it takes for Bob to snap. His brain short-circuits as every thought about consequences and missions leaves his mind, replaced with one sole desire. *You.*

In the blink of an eye, his hands find your waist, and in another, he's pulling you flush against him. His lips crash into yours with a desperate need, as every pent-up feeling, every piece of suppressed desire is unleashed.

Your hands reach up to his face, gripping his face as you pull him closer, desperate for more.

Bob is completely lost in the moment, his hands exploring your waist, your back, your face, trying to touch every inch of you. Your touch ignites something within him, and his kiss deepens as he presses his body against yours.

He pushes you backward until your back hits a wall, his hands gripping your hips as he cages you against the surface, his kiss still feverish, hungry, desperate.

You pull away reluctantly, gasping in a few breaths before speaking. "Bob, we need to go.. I *need* you," you whisper, kissing his face and neck. Bob lets out a soft groan at your words, the feeling of your kisses sending tremors through him, the need in your voice making his knees weak.

"Go... where?" he breathes out, his fingers digging into your hips, pulling you closer, afraid that if he lets go of you, you'll disappear. He wants you badly, the mission forgotten in a haze of desire.

"I have a place," you practically moan, enjoying the desperation in his touch. All coherent thoughts leave Bob's mind as your moan is like music to his ears. He practically whimpers against your touch, the need for you nearly overwhelming.

"Lead the way," he mutters, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your neck before reluctantly releasing his grip. Even though he's letting go of you, his hand takes yours, unwilling to lose physical contact.

With your hand in his, Bob follows you to the secluded spot you've chosen, his heart racing in anticipation. The gentle squeeze of your hand reassures him that this is what you want, too. Once you're both inside, the door clicks shut, and the tension in the room thickens.

You turn to face him, the hunger in your eyes matching his own. His hands trace the curve of your waist, pulling you closer as your mouths find each other again in a passionate kiss that leaves you both breathless.

With no more words needed, you both stumble over to the bed, the need for each other overwhelming. Bob gently lays you down, his eyes never leaving yours as he starts to unbutton your shirt. His touch is reverent, his every move filled with a passion that has been building for so long.

You help him, pulling his shirt off over his head, feeling the warmth of his bare skin against yours. As the fabric of your clothes falls away, Bob’s eyes roam over your bare skin, tracing every curve and dip with a hunger that’s been building.

His hands rough yet gentle, his kisses leaving a trail of fire down your neck as he unclasps your bra. The coolness of the air meets your heated skin, sending shivers down your spine. He worships your body, his hands exploring every inch with a passion that leaves you trembling with anticipation.

The feel of his bare chest against yours is electric, his skin smooth and warm as he kisses his way down to your stomach. You gasp as his fingers find their way under the band of your pants, unbuttoning them with trembling hands. The touch of his skin against yours sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making you arch into his touch.

His eyes meet yours, questioning, and when you nod, he pulls your pants down, exposing you to his hungry gaze. His eyes widen with awe, his breath hitching as he takes in the sight of you, fully exposed and desiring him.

His thumb brushes against your inner thigh, sending a rush of heat to your core, making you whimper. His touch is soft yet demanding as he explores you, his eyes never leaving yours, drinking in every reaction you give him.

You're both lost in the moment, the only sound in the room being the ragged breaths and soft moans that escape your lips. Bob leans in, his mouth replacing his fingers, and your world explodes into a symphony of pleasure.

His name becomes a chant on your lips as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, your legs wrapping around his head as you pull him deeper into your warmth. The intensity of the moment reaches its peak as Bob's tongue meets your center, his strokes firm and precise.

You moan deeply, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on as the pleasure builds. He's relentless, his every move calculated to push you closer to the edge. His hands are everywhere, caressing your breasts, teasing your nipples until they're peaked and sensitive.

The sound of your breathy pleas and the wetness of your desire driving him wild. He can't get enough of you, can't get close enough. You're soaking wet for him, and the scent of your arousal fills the air, making him crave you even more. His mouth is a masterpiece of pleasure, teasing and sucking, swirling and flicking, until you're panting his name and your body is tightening around his tongue.

You're close, so close, and just when you think you can't handle it anymore, he slides a finger inside you, the pressure inside you building until it snaps. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, making your toes curl and your back arch off the bed.

You scream out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you trembling and gasping for breath.

Bob pulls away, his face flushed and his eyes dark with lust, as he watches the aftershocks of your climax ripple through your body. He quickly removes his pants, his cock standing at full attention. The sight of him sends a fresh wave of heat through you, making you ache for him.

He positions himself over you, and with one swift thrust, he's inside, filling you completely. Your legs wrap around him as he begins to move, his hips pumping in a rhythm that matches the pounding of your heart.

The feeling is indescribable, a mix of pleasure and pain, of need and satisfaction, as he stretches and fills you over and over again. Your eyes lock onto his, and it's as if you're seeing him for the first time, really seeing the depth of his feelings for you, the desire and love that he's been hiding.

The friction is perfect, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body with every movement. You rock your hips up to meet his, desperate to get even closer. His hands are everywhere, holding you down, caressing you, making sure you feel every inch of him.

Your bodies move in a dance that's been choreographed by months of tension and unspoken desires. Each stroke is a promise, each touch a declaration of his feelings.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for another deep kiss, your tongues tangling as your bodies move together in perfect sync. The sound of your skin slapping against his fills the room, mixing with the desperate moans and gasps that escape both of your mouths. Bob's pace quickens, driven by the passion that fuels him, and you can feel him getting closer to his release.

You're so lost in the sensation that you don't even notice when the second orgasm starts to build, creeping up on you like a thief in the night. It takes you by surprise, stealing your breath away as it crashes over you, making your body tighten around him. Bob groans into your mouth, his release following closely behind, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his warmth.

You collapse onto the bed, your bodies still entwined, hearts racing, and skin slick with sweat. The room is silent except for the sound of your panting breaths, both of you trying to come down from the high of finally giving in to the passion that's been burning between you. The weight of his body on top of yours is comforting, grounding, as you bask in the afterglow of your shared ecstasy.

Bob pulls out gently, collapsing beside you, and you roll over to face him, your eyes searching his for any signs of regret. But all you see is love and satisfaction, mirroring your own emotions. You reach out, brushing the hair out of his eyes, and he smiles at you, the tension of the day forgotten as you both drift into a contented silence, the kind that comes from knowing you've found something real in a world full of danger and uncertainty.

Bob's mind is spinning as he shifts to lie there next to you, completely stunned by the intensity of what just happened. His fingers gently trace patterns on your skin, a soft smile playing on his lips as he takes in the blissful expression on your face. Every nerve ending in his body is buzzing, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through him.

"That was..." he finally manages to breathe out, his voice thick with emotion, "That was amazing." Bob's heart still races, his head reeling from the intensity of the connection between you both.

You nod breathlessly, resting your face on his chest, cuddling close against him.

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choctalksalot · 3 months ago

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I HAVEN'T CHECKED MY NOTIFS IN A WEEK AND I MISSED THIS... OH MY GOD.......OHM YGOD............ LETSFYCKUJG GOOO O OO O O OO OOO O OO O O O O O O O OOOOO

super duper respectfully: savoury sprout in a chicken bucket <3 where he belongs <33 (potential side dish to sandwich cosmo in a subway basket)

(CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR AND COUGHING) H...HERE YOU GO CHOCO I'M SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG IN ANSWERING THIS LETTER ... here is our sillies together ...

also bonus add-on because i FINALLY showed my silly guy after throwing him in the freezer for how long ... honestly this one is just a one time thing, i just felt like designing silly sprouts but HEY here he is ... he exists and i'm throwing him back in the freezer again

#choc talks #darling <3 hiii <333 hiiiiii oh this is exactly what i needed in between the hellscape that is my education thank you #TWO!!! OF THEM!!!!!! TWOFOTHEM IM RATTLING THEM LIKE BARBIES HELLOOOO #cosmo!! cosmo!!!! stupid flatbread sandwich cosmo!!! hi!!n -8888$+ 🫵🫵THAT'S MY BOY !!! HES SOS HAPE ILL CRY #him face..... :7 <- stupid. i would do anything for him #im biting sprout's stupid chicken crisp head off i will never get tired of him. silly #diner dash fruitcake i love you so much. brushing the crusted ice off of them so gently #im so sorry for dropping you in the freezer too cosmo at least y'all can hold hands at the bottom #hi mon sorry for taking so long to respond to this too hHSJDJZJSJHDS I HAVEN'T BEEN KEEPING UP ON TUNGLE #<3 ℇ> <3333 godyfk inbless i love these thank you. thaaankyouuu <333 trots off with them in my mrout

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teslacoils-and-hubris · 2 years ago

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Could you guys imagine the drama if mad scientists had tumblr?

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💀dr.undead follow

Can you guys stop putting @normal-civilian on my dash?? They LITERALLY don't support graverobbing??? Like it's 2023 get over yourself some of us need corpse parts for experiments grandma isn't using her liver anymore it's fine!

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💉modernprometheus follow

Just in case you haven't heard it today, it's totally valid to call yourself a doctor even if you dropped out of college! It's basically a mad scientist tradition at this point

🦇dr-bats follow

Nah fuck this. I didn't spend years defining and documenting a scientific method of turning people into giant animal mutants through gene manipulation to get lumped in with some fresh faced collage dropout who just happened to stumble onto the secret to reanimating corpses. Words have meanings.

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🩻 exposedspine1 follow

Hey guys what do you think would happen if I jumped into the open vat of glowing green mystery chemicals we all keep in our labs? Super powers right?

🩻 exposedspine1 follow

Hospital.

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🤖 inatorlover3000 follow

Aha! But I bet you didn't expect this! It's my latest invention, a giant death ray that detects the biggest LOSER in the room! And look! It's pointing right at you! Better run while you still can hero!

🔫 henchman13 follow

Good one boss!

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🫁 gutz-n-stuff follow

Literally if you don't keep living brains in jars of green goo unfollow me now.

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#mad science #sciencecore #villaincore #mad scientist #unreality tw #fake post

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dakusan · 2 months ago

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BDSM Profiles

stray kids ot8 x reader | eight men. one mission: ruin you beautifully.

🖤 synopsis: Eight profiles. Eight archetypes. One shared goal: your complete, consensual destruction. What began as a playful exploration of kinks spiraled into a curated BDSM character study of Stray Kids—each rendered with precision, filth, and psychological flair. You’re not just being fucked. You’re being understood.

💌a/n: you all already knew i was going to hell. this is just the velvet rope section. so… this spiraled. violently. what started as “hahaha chan’s kink profile” turned into a full BDSM dossier series featuring eight men who are clearly out to ruin us delicately. inspired by this post I wrote , i decided to make it worse. better? worse. let’s say both. i hope you enjoy this descent into the beautiful, depraved psyches of these chaotic domcore men. i wrote it so you’d feel ruined and cherished. just like they’d want. p.s. if you see this on your dash at 2am, drink water. and stretch. they'd want you hydrated. p.p.s. if you send me your bias... i might tell you how he’d destroy you personally. for science. 🕯️ p.p.p.s. reblogs = aftercare. likes are foreplay. do the right thing.

⚠️warnings: 18+ ONLY (MDNI) — explicit BDSM themes, kink content (degradation, overstimulation, bondage, sadism, praise, fear kink, aftercare, etc.), dom/sub dynamics, filthy language, emotional intensity, and possessive behavior — all fictional and consensual.

🎶now playing: "Criminal" – Taemin

📍credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

Bang Chan // 방찬

Dominant | Caregiver | Primal (Dom) Core Archetype: Daddy Dom ⟡ Soft Dom ⟡ Service Top Vibe: “You’re mine, and I’ll prove it slowly.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Daddy kink — You don’t call him Daddy for fun. You do it because his voice drops an octave and your legs give out when you do. Rules. Rewards. Discipline that sounds like worship.

Overstimulation — He’ll edge you until you’re sobbing. Then make you cum until you’re begging him to stop. And he still won’t.

Praise + Degradation — “Such a good girl… even when you’re dripping all over Daddy’s cock like a filthy little thing.”

Mirror play — Makes you watch. Makes you see what you do to him. “Look at yourself, baby. Look how desperate you get for me.”

Bondage — Silk ties. Leather cuffs. His belt. His fucking voice is a restraint.

Obsession kink — He won’t admit it out loud. But the way he tracks your every breath? You’re not just his. You’re his religion.

🔗 DOM STYLE

Emotional dominance — He reads you like a book mid-scene. “You’re not saying anything, angel. Color?”

Controlled cruelty — He’ll ruin you so slowly it feels like mercy. Then smile when you break.

Service-focused — Yes, he’s in charge. But your pleasure is the mission. Even when he’s wrecking you, he’s cataloguing what makes you melt.

Off-scene control — He won’t let you text your ex. He will pick your dress. He does feed you aftercare snacks like you’re his beloved brat.

💦 FILTHY FAVOURITES

Positions: Bent over the studio desk. Knees on the mirror floor. Legs over his shoulders while he praises you through tears.

Dirty talk level: 8/10 – Degrading Devotion

“That’s it, sweetheart. Take Daddy’s cock like a good little mess.” “You said ruin you. So don’t cry now.” “Look at you. Fucked dumb and still begging. Say thank you.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Gold-standard. Warm towels. Gentle hands. Voice dipped in honey.

“You did so well for me, baby. Let me hold you.”

Lee Know // 리노

Sadist | Brat Tamer | Primal (Dom) | Owner Core Archetype: Elegant Sadist ⟡ Possessive Dom ⟡ Pet Play Daddy Vibe: “You're mine. And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Brat taming — He lives for the defiance in your eyes right before he breaks you. You roll your eyes? You’re face-down, ass up, and not walking tomorrow.

Impact play — Leather belt. Open palm. Riding crop. He doesn’t just leave marks—he signs his name in bruises.

Orgasm denial — “Did I say you could cum?” / “Cry about it, kitten.”

Pet play (dom side) — You’re his kitten. He’ll collar you. Make you beg prettily or not at all.

Sadism + precision — Pain with a purpose. Every slap, choke, bite is calculated. He’s not cruel by accident—he’s an artist.

Choking kink — One hand wrapped tight around your throat, the other tracing your trembling lips. “Breathe, baby. You’ll need it.”

🔗 DOM STYLE

Quiet, unshakable authority — No raised voice. Just narrowed eyes, calm hands, and complete ruin.

Owner dynamic — He owns your time, your pleasure, your body. You misbehave? He retrains you. You obey? He rewards filthily.

Degrading praise — “Such a pathetic little slut for me, huh? But mine.”

Control freak, but make it sexy — His rules apply outside the bedroom. That outfit? Approved by him. Your leash? In his coat pocket.

💦 FILTHY FAVOURITES

Positions: Collared and kneeling. Bent over with your leash tugged. Pinned against the mirror as he marks your throat with his teeth.

Dirty talk level: 9/10 – Velvet Ruin

“Keep crying. It makes your moans sound prettier.” “Say you’re mine. Say it while I ruin you.” “You’re my good little toy, even when you’re being bad.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Subtle but intentional. He won’t coo—he’ll clean you up, kiss your bruises, and tuck you into his hoodie with a quiet, “Told you not to act up, didn’t I?”

He doesn’t talk about how much he cares. He just shows it—in the way he pulls you into his lap, or brushes your hair off your sweat-damp forehead like it’s sacred.

Changbin // 창빈

Soft Dom | Primal (Dom) | Caregiver | Service Top Core Archetype: Devoted Dominant ⟡ Power Top with a Heart ⟡ Strength-as-Love Dom Vibe: “I’ll ruin you gently. But you’ll never forget how safe it felt.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Strength kink — Tosses you like you weigh nothing. Pins you down, holds your wrists with one hand, fucks you deep while moaning like you’re the one in control.

Praise kink (extreme) — You’ll cum from his words alone. “So good for me, baby. Look at you. Look how well you take me.”

Overstimulation + tears kink — You cry? He twitches. You sob? He praises harder. You break? He holds you.

Body worship — He kisses every inch of you like he’s memorizing your skin. Like you’re the altar, and he’s kneeling to serve.

Breath play + control — Gentle but firm. His hand on your throat doesn’t scare—it steadies.

Whimper kink — Your little sounds make him feral. He’ll go slower just to hear more. Then ruin you harder when you beg.

🔗 DOM STYLE

Service Dom disguised as a primal top — He’s giving "Yes, I’m pounding you into the mattress, but I’m doing it for you, angel."

Emotionally invested dominance — The eye contact? The moaned affirmations? He means every word.

Possessive but soft — He doesn’t growl unless someone touches what’s his. Otherwise, he’s wrecking you while telling you how proud he is.

💦 FILTHY FAVOURITES

Positions: Against the wall. Held in his lap. Pinned with both legs over his shoulders as he whispers, “I’ve got you.”

Dirty talk level: 8/10 – Degrading Devotion

“That’s it, baby. Cry for me. So good… so fucking perfect.” “You were made for me, weren’t you? Look at this. You’re trembling, but you’re still taking all of me.” “Don’t hide from me. I want to see all of it—all of you.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Warm. Heavy. Gentle. He’ll carry you to bed, run you a bath if your legs can’t work, then pull you into his chest and kiss your hair like he didn’t just make you forget your name.

He whispers:

“You did so well, angel. I’ve got you. I’ll always have you.”

Hyunjin // 현진

Soft Dom | Rope Top | Primal (Sensual) | Caregiver Core Archetype: Artistic Dominant ⟡ Poetic Power Exchange ⟡ Shibari Siren Vibe: “Let me ruin you slowly—beautifully—and then kiss every broken piece.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Shibari-adjacent bondage — He doesn’t just tie you up. He laces meaning into every knot. His silk scarf is a ribbon, a weapon, a promise.

Sensory play — Blindfolds. Tracing fingertips. Whispered filth so low it makes your spine arch. He builds tension like he’s painting with it.

Praise + degradation blend — “You’re such a desperate little thing… but so good for me, angel.” His voice never raises—but your pulse does.

Power exchange (calm control) — You obey not from fear, but from awe. His command is velvet-gloved and irresistible.

Oral fixation — Your mouth, your whimpers, your moans—he worships them all. But he’ll also fill that mouth when he wants you silent.

Marking kink — He paints your body in bruises and kisses both before and after. Art doesn’t just hang—it stains.

🔗 DOM STYLE

Slow, immersive dominance — His pace is agony. He draws it out until you ache for him. “You’ll thank me later,” he murmurs as you beg.

Silent control — One glance. One breathy command. You’re on your knees before you realize you moved.

Worship-as-destruction — He praises your pain. He kisses through your tears. He breaks you with devotion.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: Tied and kneeling. Bound on the bed, legs parted, arms laced above you as he teases every inch. Back arched over a pillow as he takes his time.

Dirty talk level: 9/10 – Velvet Ruin

“You look divine like this—ruined, tied up, crying for me.” “So messy… so mine.” “Give yourself to me, sweetheart. All of you. I’ll handle the rest.” “Such a beautiful little slut.”

💌 AFTERCARE

A ritual. He unties every knot with purpose. Massages every mark he left. Cleans you slowly, lovingly. Holds your face in his palms like it’s priceless.

“You did so well. Still so beautiful. Let me take care of you now.”

He doesn’t detach after scenes—he sinks deeper into you. His care is soft, sensual, and sacred.

Han // 한

Switchy Dom | Brat | Exhibitionist | Degrader with a Praise Problem Core Archetype: Chaos Dom ⟡ Hyperverbal Power Bottom Energy ⟡ Clingy Corruptor Vibe: “You’re my dumb little slut… and my favorite person in the world.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Degradation kink — “Say it. Say what you are. Louder.” He calls you a cumslut while moaning like it’s a compliment.

Praise kink (panic edition) — Five seconds later: “Wait no you’re literally perfect and I love you.” The filth is real. The feelings? Also real.

Exhibitionism / public risk — Fingers under the table. Whispering filth in your ear during dinner. Gets hard watching you squirm in public.

Mutual corruption kink — He wants you just as desperate as him. Wants to make you a mess, and get ruined by you. You fall together.

Spit kink / facefucking — Obscene. Unhinged. Will make you gag and then kiss your forehead.

Hand-over-mouth kink — To tease you. To control you. To hear your muffled whimpers while he whispers: “Shhh… someone might hear.”

🔗 DOM STYLE

Filthy, clingy, unpredictable — He doms with both chaos and heart. You might get ruined with words, then cuddled like he missed you all day.

Talks. So. Much. — Teases, degrades, praises, begs while inside you. His voice is constant—like a vibrator in word form.

Emotionally devastating possession — He’ll say, “You’re mine,” like a command—then nuzzle into your neck like a lost puppy.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: Face down, ass up, his hand over your mouth while he moans how tight you are. On his lap, while he whispers filth into your ear in public. Spread out on his bed while he talks you through your own breakdown.

Dirty talk level: 10/10 – Unholy Scriptures

“You like being my little fucktoy, huh? Can’t even think straight without me.” “So messy, so needy—god, I love you like this.” “You wanna be my dumb little slut forever? I’ll keep you right here. Ruined and dripping.” “Mine. All mine. Say it again.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Clingy. Emotional. Sticky with love. He wraps around you like a koala, kisses your cheeks, and mumbles shit like, “You still like me, right?” while brushing your hair back.

“You were so good. So, so good. Still want me to hold you?”

And he will. For hours.

Felix // 필릭스

Soft Dom | Caregiver | Sensual Primal (Dom) | Service Top Core Archetype: Angelic Dominant ⟡ Velvet Daddy ⟡ Praise-Filled Overstimulation Addict Vibe: “You’re so good for me, baby. Let me ruin you gently.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Praise kink (religious tier) — “You’re perfect, baby. So good. So beautiful.” He says it like he means it. Because he does.

Overstimulation kink — He doesn’t stop until you’re shaking. Then he kisses you and coos, “One more for me, sweetheart.”

Breeding kink (lowkey feral) — You think he’s soft until he growls, “Gotta fill you up, yeah? Want it dripping out of you.” Cue the whiplash.

Sensory control — Blindfolds, cockwarming, silk ribbons. He knows what your body responds to—and he uses it until you’re sobbing.

Touch obsession — Always holding you. Always. Hand on your waist, fingers on your neck, lips on your shoulder. Even when he’s pounding you? He’s still gentle with his hands.

Cockwarming + thigh riding — Wants to feel you constantly. Will murmur, “Just sit on it, love. Stay still. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

🔗 DOM STYLE

Soft-spoken, full control — He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t need to. His words go straight to your core.

Emotional domming — You cry? He gets harder. Not from your tears—but from how much trust it takes to let him see them.

Velvet-daddy energy™ — He might not say it—but you feel it when he calls you his, edges you for hours, and kisses your forehead after he ruins you.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: Riding his thigh while he whispers, “You can cum just like this, can’t you, love?” / On your back, blindfolded, arms tied in silk, as he fucks you slow and praises every sound you make.

Dirty talk level: 8.5/10 – Degrading Devotion with Angelic Edge

“So good for me, baby. Look how beautiful you are like this.” “You can take more, can’t you? Just one more. Be good for me.” “Mine. Every part of you. Say it.” “Want me to fill you up? Hm? That’s it, pretty thing—beg for it.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Unmatched. Cuddles you into his chest, wraps you in his hoodie, brushes the hair off your damp face, and murmurs endless praise into your skin.

“You did so well. So, so well for me.” “I’ve got you now, angel. Just breathe.”

He makes you feel not just safe—but wanted, in every possible way.

Seungmin // 승민

Hard Dom | Degrader | Master/Mistress | Brat Punisher | Emotional Sadist Core Archetype: Calculated Cold Dom ⟡ Verbal Sadist ⟡ Reluctant Caregiver with Control Issues Vibe: “You wanted this. Don’t start crying now.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Verbal humiliation — “Pathetic.” / “You think you deserve to be touched?” / “Keep moaning like that and maybe I’ll consider letting you cum.” He speaks like a knife. And he means it.

Orgasm denial + punishment — You came without permission? He edges you until you're begging, shaking, sobbing—and still doesn’t touch you.

Face slapping (light but sharp) — Not about pain—about control. “Focus. You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Degradation kink — He’ll call you a toy. A whore. A mess. And he’ll say it like it’s your title.

Control kink (extreme) — You don’t get to speak unless he says. You don’t get to breathe fast unless he allows it. This isn’t just domination—it’s discipline.

Emotional sadism — He wants you ruined and grateful for it. “Say thank you,” he’ll mutter after he breaks you. And you will.

🔗 DOM STYLE

Cold and calculated — He’s not chaotic. He’s methodical. He watches your reactions like data and uses them to push you further.

Power-obsessed — Not for ego—for structure. He needs to control the scene, your pleasure, your thoughts. It’s how he stays sane.

Emotionally detached… until he’s not — He acts like it’s just sex. Just dominance. But his hands never falter during aftercare, and the look in his eyes when you're falling asleep? That’s not nothing.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: Forced to kneel. Bent over with your hands tied behind your back. Restrained and denied until you sob.

Dirty talk level: 10/10 – Unholy Scriptures (Ice Edition)

“You’re lucky I even want you like this.” “Keep whining. That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it?” “Say you’re my toy. Say it, or you don’t get to cum.” “Beg properly. Or we start over.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Soft. Devastatingly so. He doesn’t speak much—just pulls you into his chest, covers you with the blanket (burrito style), and holds you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. He’ll clean you up with quiet, precise movements, kiss the inside of your wrist like it’s instinct, and whisper only when he thinks you’re asleep:

“You did well. I’m proud of you.” And if you stir? He clears his throat and says, “Go to sleep. I’ll be right here.” Because he will. He always is.

I.n // 아이엔

Soft-Spoken Power Dom | Sadistic Tease | Brat Tamer | Control Obsessed Core Archetype: Gentleman Sadist ⟡ Corruptor-in-Chief ⟡ Angel-Faced Devil Dom Vibe: “You can’t handle me. But I’m going to give it to you anyway.”

🖤 KINK SIGNATURES

Corruption kink — He lives for your firsts. First moan, first sob, first orgasm wrecked by him. “You’ve never done this before? Good. I’ll ruin you nicely.”

Brat taming (quiet but lethal) — You mouth off? He just smirks. Next thing you know, you’re tied down and begging. He doesn’t yell—he calculates.

Control kink (total) — He doesn’t just dominate—you become his choreography. Every angle, every movement, his choice.

Mocking degradation + obsession — “Look at you. Trying so hard to be good. It’s cute.” All said while kissing the tears off your cheeks.

Fear kink (light) — Not true fear—just that breath-catching, wide-eyed, holy-shit-what-did-he-just-say look he gets off on.

Chin-gripping + eye contact — He forces you to meet his eyes. "Don’t look away. I want to see every second of you breaking."

🔗 DOM STYLE

Silk-gloved sadism — He speaks soft. Touches slow. But everything he does is designed to destroy you. And you let him.

Emotionally loaded power play — He doesn’t say he loves you during scenes—but he looks at you like you’re sacred. And wrecks you like he can’t stand how much he cares.

Master of pacing — He can stretch one orgasm over an hour. And make you thank him for it.

💦 FILTHY FAVORITES

Positions: On your knees, chin tipped up by his fingers. Tied open on the bed as he circles like a predator. Bent over while he whispers filth directly into your ear.

Dirty talk level: 9.5/10 – Velvet Ruin with Sadistic Edge

“What’s wrong? You were so confident earlier.” “Keep shaking. It makes you feel tighter.” “You look beautiful like this—ruined, teary, mine.” “I don’t care if you beg. You don’t cum until I say.”

💌 AFTERCARE

Gentle. Reverent. Almost too tender—like he’s trying to make up for what he did to you. He wraps you in his arms, brushes your hair from your face, presses soft kisses to your skin. But he never apologizes.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you now.” His voice is the same one that destroyed you—except now it soothes. And somehow, that makes it even more dangerous.

#skz #skz imagine #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #bangchan x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #filthy friday

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spencerreidenjoyer · 10 months ago

Text

lovebird | spencer reid x reader

Spencer's little girl sets you and her dad up.

wc: 3.3k, rating: teen

tags/warnings: 2+1, kindergarten teacher!reader, single girldad!spencer, fluff, meet-cute, implied sex, use of "Y/N" because this fic would've been impossible to write without it oops

a/n: not sure what possessed me to write this, but i finished writing this in about 2 days lmao. girldad!spencer loml. thank you to my lovely friends over on twitter who fuelled my insanity. for this fic i have season 10 spencer in mind/later seasons spencer who's just full on daddy at that point <3 (also crossposted on ao3!)

Sunday

You’re at the grocery store in a ratty t-shirt and sweats, picking out fucking cereal when you hear the pitter-patter of footsteps running towards you, and a sweet, high-pitched voice calling your name.

It’s one of your students, Ellie Reid, holding a box of cereal that’s half her height, and she comes up to you in the aisle.

“Ellie? What are you doing here?” You ask sweetly, pushing your hair out of your face before you squat down to meet Ellie’s height.

“My daddy wanted to get groceries. He said we would go together. But he had to pick up the phone, and I wanted to help look for the things Daddy needs.”

Her dad, Dr. Spencer Reid, is an FBI agent and a single dad to Ellie. He’s one of the best parents you’ve had this year – the fancy kindergarten you teach at lends itself to spoiled brats and uptight parents, but Dr. Reid and Ellie are a welcome reprieve in a usually stuffy environment. You’re pleased to see her here, on a weekend, but less pleased with the fact that she’s alone.

“Oh, wow! You’re so helpful, Ellie,” you say, holding her arm gently. “I’m sure your dad is really thankful. But you shouldn’t have walked off alone. I’m glad you found me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not safe for you to walk around alone in the grocery store, Ellie,” you smile. “Let’s go find your dad.”

Ellie nods, her cheeks ruddy and when you hold out your hand for her to hold, Ellie’s little hand wraps around two of your fingers. “Did you come to the grocery store alone? It’s not safe.”

“I did come alone. But I’m an adult, so it’s okay. You’re little, Ellie, so you should only walk around with your dad.” You lead Ellie down aisle after aisle, walking past canned food and bags of chips and walls lined with bottles of drinks.

“But you shouldn’t walk around alone if it’s dangerous. When we find my daddy maybe he can protect you too!” Ellie says confidently.

When did this grocery store feel so big? You can’t find Dr. Reid anywhere, and you feel a rising panic in your chest. You have half a mind to pull up the school’s contact information in your phone, but you hear Dr. Reid’s voice calling his daughter’s name, and both you and Ellie turn around.

“Daddy!” Ellie shrieks, almost dropping the box of cereal in her arms as she dashes toward her father. She almost trips as she closes the distance, thankfully landing in her father’s arms before she does fall.

Dr. Reid scoops her up, holding her tightly. “You had me worried, sweetheart.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Ellie mumbles against her father’s shoulder. “But I found Miss Y/N and she helped me find you!”

“I told her not to run off alone in the future,” you say. “Right, Ellie?”

The sweet girl nods. She giggles into Dr. Reid’s shoulder, and his hand comes up to pat her back, a soothing gesture.

“I’m glad it was you she bumped into,” Dr. Reid says, sighing with relief. “I wouldn’t know I would do with myself if–”

“It’s okay, Dr. Reid,” you assure him. “It’s not a problem at all. You’re– You’re doing a great job with her.”

“Thank you for saying that. I– I’ll see you at the parent-teacher meeting next Friday, right?”

“Yeah, next Friday.” You smile at him. “Have a good day, Dr. Reid. Bye, Ellie!”

“Bye!” Ellie, sweet girl, waves excitedly, her gummy smile overtaking her face. Dr. Reid walks toward the checkout, holding Ellie with one hand and pushing his shopping cart with the other.

You feel how warm your cheeks are when Dr. Reid and Ellie are finally out of sight, your hand clammy around the handle of your shopping basket. You slap your cheek lightly, willing yourself to pull yourself together.

The way your heart flutters whenever you see Dr. Reid is a cause for concern, and you wonder if you should see a doctor about it.

Dr. Spencer Reid is a marvel. He’s admirable, juggling his job at the FBI with raising a little girl all on his own, and he’s both a great profiler and a great dad. He’s incredibly sweet with Ellie and incredibly kind to you, which you unfortunately don’t get a lot, especially with the kinds of parents you deal with. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome: his hair is slightly long, wavy and messy in a way that frames his face just right, not to mention the stubble that makes him look that much hotter.

Your little crush on Dr. Reid is certainly inappropriate, but over the parent-teacher meetings and interacting with him when he drops off and picks up his daughter from school, you can’t help yourself from falling for him.

Tuesday

Ellie Reid is a smart girl, that you know, but you're blindsided by her genius one day at recess. You’re monitoring all the kids at the playground when Ellie comes up to you. She has a contorted look on her face but she says, “Miss Y/N, I fell.”

“You did? Are you feeling okay?” You ask, squatting down to match her height. You look at her knees – not a speck of dirt nor a red spot from falling down.

“My knee hurts. Can you call my daddy?”

“Does it hurt badly? I’ll take you to see the nurse if it does,” you say, not entirely understanding the situation. You’ve never met a four-year-old who wouldn’t be in tears over tripping and falling, even if the injury wasn’t severe.

The look on Ellie’s face makes you think that she’s trying to match your expectations of what she should be feeling. “It doesn't hurt bad. I just want my daddy to come pick me up. Can you call him?”

You try not to furrow your brow at the strange request. You’re usually trusted to handle any little accidents and mishaps with the children, but at Ellie’s insistence of calling her father, you feel like you should.

(It’s certainly not spurred on by seeing him at the grocery store last weekend.)

“Alright, Ellie. I’ll call your dad and see what he says, okay?”

“Okay, Miss Y/N,” Ellie says, smiling at you. You get her to sit down on the bench next to you and your co-teacher to oversee the kids before fish your phone out from your pocket to dial Dr. Reid’s number. As you wait for the call to go through, Ellie looks at you with wide, expectant eyes. You smile at her.

On the third ring, Dr. Reid picks up. “Hello?”

“Hi, Dr. Reid. This is Miss Y/N from Ellie’s school. I’m calling to inform you that Ellie fell on the playground during recess.”

“Oh, my. Is she alright?” You hear Dr. Reid’s voice grow concerned. Ellie looks up at you, and you look the little girl up and down one more time just to be sure.

“Yes, she is. I checked and she doesn’t have any scrapes or bruises. She says her knee hurts, but that she’s also fine. Usually, we don’t call parents over small mishaps like this, but Ellie insisted that I call you.”

“I see,” Dr. Reid hums, his tone indecipherable. “Can I talk to her?”

“Sure thing, Dr. Reid,” you say. You hold the phone out to Ellie as you put the call on speakerphone and tell her, “Your dad wants to speak to you, Ellie.”

Ellie is polite, but clearly excited as she yells, “Hi, Daddy!”

“Woah! Hi, Ellie,” Dr. Reid laughs, his serious tone while he was speaking to you gone, talking to his daughter with a delightful whimsy. “Miss Y/N told me you fell on the playground today. Does it hurt?”

“No,” Ellie answers, but she looks up quickly at you. “I mean, yes. Just a little. It doesn’t hurt too bad anymore.”

You hide your smile, and you think you can hear the smile in Dr. Reid’s voice as he says, “Okay, sweet girl, that’s good.”

“Can you come and pick me up right now, Daddy?” Ellie asks, a little whiny. It’s adorable, though.

“Well, it’s only ten in the morning, honey,” Dr. Reid bargains. “And I know you have art class later, right? Don’t you want to stay around for that?”

“I do!” Ellie says eagerly. “Oh, I love art class!”

“I know you do, honey,” Dr. Reid assures. “So, do you feel okay enough to stick around in class until Daddy comes to pick you up at the end of the day?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Ellie nods, even though Dr. Reid can’t see her. “But you have to come pick me up!”

“I always do, Ellie,” Dr. Reid laughs, making Ellie laugh along too. “Okay, honey. Go on and play with your friends. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay! Bye, Daddy! I love you!”

“Bye! I love you too, Ellie!” Dr. Reid matches Ellie’s excitable energy, and Ellie giggles before she runs off to play again. His voice returns to a calm but engaged sort of energy. “Well, that was something.”

“She seems fine,” you say, switching the speakerphone off as you hold your phone back up to your ear. “I’m sorry to bother you in the middle of your work day, Dr. Reid.”

“Oh, please, it’s not a bother at all,” Dr. Reid laughs gently. “I love talking to Ellie. She might miss me or something, if she had to fake a fall so you would call me.”

“Perhaps,” you say, slightly surprised that Dr. Reid would be so quick to call out his daughter’s bluff. Some of the other parents would rip your throat out if you even insinuated their child was in the wrong. “I’ll still keep an eye out for her.”

“Thanks, Miss Y/N,” Dr. Reid insists. “Besides, it’s always a pleasure getting a call from you.”

You don’t remember if you thank him before he hangs up, because all you can think about is Dr. Reid saying he enjoys talking to you.

After putting your phone away, you press your hands to your warm cheeks in an effort to calm yourself and your beating heart down.

Dr. Reid is one of the last parents to come by during pickup. It’s a somewhat regular occurrence, with Dr. Reid’s busy and hectic job. You are never bothered by spending extra time with Ellie, and you know Dr. Reid always tries his best to pick Ellie up as soon as he can. He usually makes regular pickup so you never get to exchange more than a few words with him, but days like today aren’t necessarily rare either. But considering your interaction on Sunday, you’re secretly pleased with how it’s worked out.

Only you and Ellie are left in the classroom, you having told your co-teacher to clock out first. You’re pleasantly surprised when there’s a knock on the door frame, Dr. Reid standing there in a cardigan and a button-up shirt with his dress pants. “Ellie!”

His hair is somehow more fluffy and messy than you’d seen him at the grocery store, but it just makes him look even more soft and domestic. You try not to look at Dr. Reid with hearts in your eyes as Ellie shrieks and runs towards him, Dr. Reid picking her up easily and swinging her around before he holds her tight. “Hi, sweet girl.”

“Daddy!” Ellie giggles. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you too, honey,” Dr. Reid coos, pressing a kiss to the top of Ellie’s head. Your insides melt, gooey at the tooth-rottingly sweet display in front of you. “Were you a good girl for Miss Y/N today?”

“Uh-huh!” Ellie nods, her gummy smile absolutely adorable.

“She was a pleasure,” you add. “Hello, Dr. Reid.”

“Hello again.” Dr. Reid smiles. “It’s nice to see you. Are you doing well?”

“Yes, I am. Other than Ellie’s little incident, today was thankfully uneventful. Thank you for asking.”

Dr. Reid’s face scrunches up in an extremely endearing way, like it’s obvious that he’d want to know about… you. “Of course. I like to know you’re doing well. It’s great to hear.”

You feel like you don’t know what to say to that, perhaps a little too caught up in your little crush on him to come up with a coherent response. You laugh shyly, tucking your hair behind your ear. Dr. Reid has set Ellie down, and she wanders around the classroom, fidgeting with the pencils on the tables, but doesn’t stray too far from her dad. “Ellie seems to be fine from earlier, but you might want to check in with her again.”

“I will,” Dr. Reid says, nodding. “Oh! I almost forgot–”

You look on as Dr. Reid fumbles in his satchel, pulling a crumpled paper bag out. The paper bag looks bulky, oil stains seeped through on the sides and on the bottom. “Oh, it looks bad. It’s good, I promise– It’s a chocolate muffin from this really good bakery near my office. I just thought I’d get you one. Since you’re so helpful with Ellie. Especially today.”

Dr. Reid holds it out for you, and you scramble to step forward and take it. “Thank you, Dr. Reid, you- You didn’t have to. It’s my job to look after Ellie, after all. Not that it’s a burden, or just a job, I mean– Ellie’s great. She’s one of our brightest, but don’t tell any of the other parents that.”

Dr. Reid smiles so bright you feel like you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “I won’t, if I bump into any of them at the parent-teacher meeting.”

You bite your lip, smiling, shy at the attention Dr. Reid gives you. You think he’s flirting(?) with you, but you try to remain professional. You clear your throat. “Thank you, Dr. Reid.”

“Thank you again, Miss Y/N. I mean it.” Dr. Reid asserts, and you feel your cheeks flush. “Tonight is pizza night, so Ellie and I should be making our way home right about now.”

“Pizza!” Ellie yells, giddy, causing both you and Dr. Reid to laugh. She zooms past you to stand next to her dad.

“Thank you, Dr. Reid. I’ll see you proper on Friday,” you say, nodding your head slightly. “And I’ll see you, Ellie, tomorrow, yeah?”

“Bye, Miss Y/N!” Ellie waves frantically. Dr. Reid joins her in her waving, equally silly.

“I look forward to seeing you then, Miss Y/N,” Dr. Reid smiles. “Bye.”

“Bye!” you reply, trying not to sound too eager, and then Dr. Reid ducks out of the classroom with Ellie in hand. You feel like you’re swooning so hard you might faint.

Friday

Parent-teacher meetings go smoothly, thankfully. There are parents who only bother to hear the praise you give their children, so ignorant to the criticisms of their children that you try not to make too obvious. After seeing nineteen sets of parents, Dr. Spencer Reid is your last of the day. You don’t want to say you’ve been waiting for this all day, but checking off the nineteen sets of parents before this has only made you more and more excited.

Dr. Reid finally enters the classroom, two minutes early for his slot, but he’s alone.

“Where’s Ellie? She’s totally allowed to sit in for these meetings too.”

“She’s at my boss’ place for a playdate with his son,” Dr. Reid says. “Actually, that sounds pretty weird, doesn’t it? My daughter, having a playdate with my boss’ son?”

“Not at all. They say it takes a village to raise a child. I’m glad your colleagues are so helpful with Ellie.”

“They really are,” Dr. Reid asserts, smiling. “Hotch– My boss, I mean– offered, knowing I had this meeting.”

“That’s really nice of him,” you nod. “So, about Ellie…”

“Please tell me you only have good things to say,” Dr. Reid jokes, and you try very hard not to swoon.

“Essentially, yes,” you nod. “Ellie is such a bright girl, and she’s so sweet. She’s always helpful with her classmates and polite to everyone and the teachers too. Again, don’t tell this to the other parents, but Ellie’s set high standards for the rest of the class.”

“You’re telling me an awful lot that I shouldn’t be telling the other parents,” Dr. Reid grins. “You sure you aren’t playing favourites?”

“You certainly are my favourite,” you say before you can catch yourself, and Dr. Reid looks at you with wide eyes. You imagine you look equally shocked. “I’m sorry, Dr. Reid, I didn't mean to say that.”

Dr. Reid cocks his head, a little smile toying on his lips. “Miss Y/N, did I ever tell you what I do for the FBI?”

You have no idea how this relates to how unprofessional and inappropriate you are being. You shake your head anyway, too afraid to say anything anymore before you say something even more embarrassing.

“I’m a profiler, Miss Y/N. I use psychology and study behaviour to catch serial killers,” Dr. Reid explains, using his hands to articulate his point. Your eyes dart down to the motion; but your gaze quickly flits back up to his face. “In general, I’m good at reading people.”

“Is that so?” You gulp. Is he able to read you?

“I don’t mean to profile you, Miss Y/N, I mean it,” Dr. Reid sounds a little apologetic. “But I can’t help but notice the way you lean toward me when we’re speaking, the way you fidget with your hands a little, the way you can almost meet my eyes, but you still seem a little bashful about it. I either intimidate you, or…”

“Or..?”

“I’m sorry if this is too forward, but would you like to get dinner with me?”

“What?” You ask, disbelieving. “Dinner?”

“You- You’re interested in me too, aren’t you?”

“Too?” You gape, sounding like a parrot as you repeat his words, simply unable to wrap your head around the fact that Ellie Reid’s young, hot, genius father just asked you on a date.

“I’m usually not too doubtful of my profiling skills, but beautiful women like you make me second-guess if I’m reading this right.” Dr. Reid laughs, avoiding looking at you.

“Dr. Reid, I would love to get dinner with you,” You say, trying to sound confident.

Dr. Reid beams as he meets your eyes. “Oh, thank God.”

“Cheesy that you’re calling me beautiful,” you laugh bashfully, waving him off.

“I mean it!” Dr. Reid insists. “And, um– Would you want to do dinner after this? If you don’t have any other meetings, of course. Or any other plans– you’d probably have plans on a Friday night, right? Way to be presumptuous–”

“Dr. Reid! I don’t have plans tonight. A dinner date sounds great,” you laugh.

“Great! Great, good. I’m glad.” Dr. Reid says, looking a little giddy that you’d taken him up on it. “Also, um- I love when people call me Dr. Reid, but please just call me Spencer. Do you think people would get the wrong idea if you called me Dr. the whole time?”

You cackle, Spencer looking thoroughly pleased at making you laugh.

“Okay, Spencer,” you try his first name, and it rolls off your tongue with ease. “Let me pack up and then we can go get dinner.”

“I like when you say my name,” Spencer smiles. “What’re you feeling for dinner?”

If you and Spencer kiss at the end of your dinner date in front of your apartment door, that’s between you and him.

You pulling Spencer into your apartment with your hands fisted in his hair should also stay between you and him.

It doesn’t entirely stay between you and him, though, as Spencer calls his boss to turn Ellie’s playdate into a sleepover before he rolls over to kiss you and take you all over again.

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