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reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago

Text

Not Her

Summary: Reader can't figure out why Spencer doesn't like her, Spencer doesn't know how to tell her it's not her fault.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: camping, being stuck, wilderness, swimming in underwear, teasing, talks of bullying, insecurities, mild aggression from a male (not spencer), small injury

Word count: 16.6k

a/n: i want to go camping with spencer sooo bad he would be so nerdy and useful

main masterlist

From the moment you joined the BAU, it was obvious that you were entering a tightly knit group. The closeness between the team members was clear, and while you didn’t expect to be everyone’s best friend right off the bat, you were determined to fit in. You took time to get to know everyone, learning their quirks, their likes, and dislikes, hoping to carve out your place within the team.

With Derek, you found an easy-going rapport. His playful nature and quick wit made it easy to banter back and forth. JJ was kind and welcoming, often making a point to include you in conversations or to check in on how you were adjusting. Penelope was a whirlwind of energy, and it wasn’t long before you found yourself swept up in her vibrant world of tech and color. Rossi felt like a wise uncle who loved everyone on the team as his own. Alex was someone who acted as an older sister to you and whom you looked up to very much, and Hotch, though stern, had a way of making you feel like you were a valuable part of the team.

But Spencer Reid… he was different.

From the start, there was a disconnect. It wasn’t as if he was openly hostile or dismissive—he was far too professional for that. But there was something in the way he avoided your gaze during meetings, or how he seemed to drift to the opposite side of the room whenever you entered. You had caught him, more than once, excusing himself from a conversation as you approached, as if the mere prospect of talking to you was something he couldn’t bear.

At first, you tried to brush it off, convincing yourself that he was just shy or perhaps overwhelmed by the demands of the job. After all, you knew that Spencer wasn’t the most socially adept person in the world. But as time went on, the distance between you and him became more apparent, and it started to gnaw at you.

You didn’t need everyone to like you. You had learned long ago that such a goal was impossible, especially in a high-stakes environment like the BAU. But the way Spencer acted around you—like he could barely stand to be in the same room—was something you couldn’t ignore. You were both professionals, and you could work together when necessary, but it was clear that there was a barrier between you, one that wasn’t present with the rest of the team.

You found yourself replaying your interactions with him over and over in your mind, trying to pinpoint where things had gone wrong. Was it something you had said? Something you had done? Had you offended him without realizing it? Every smile you offered that went unreturned, every attempt at conversation that fizzled out into uncomfortable silence, only deepened the mystery.

—

The whole team could see the ridge between you and Spencer, but no one was any more privy to its cause than you were. Naturally, they had asked, each of them trying to get to the bottom of the tension, but Spencer always brushed it off, insisting he had nothing against you. And technically, he wasn’t lying—it wasn’t you he had a problem with.

The team had noticed the rift between you and Spencer early on. It was impossible to ignore, especially in a group as close-knit as the BAU. And so, they took it upon themselves to try and bridge the gap, often resorting to what they jokingly referred to as “parent trapping” the two of you.

Whenever the team needed to double up on rooms during cases, you and Spencer were always the ones paired together. If there were assignments to be handled in pairs, it was somehow always the two of you that got teamed up. On the jet or at the round table, there would only be one spot left for each of you, forcing you to sit side by side. And then there were the bar nights—group outings where, mysteriously, everyone else would bail out at the last minute, leaving just you and Spencer nursing your drinks awkwardly.

But despite their best efforts, nothing seemed to work. Spencer wasn’t warming up to you, no matter how many times you ended up in forced proximity. The wall between you remained as solid as ever, and eventually, you stopped trying to break through it. You resigned yourself to the fact that whatever issue he had with you, it wasn’t something you could change.

However, Rossi—always the wise, seasoned veteran—was not ready to give up just yet. He had one last trick up his sleeve, one final attempt to get you and Spencer to break through the barrier between you.

A team bonding camping excursion.

It was the perfect setup. Out in the wilderness, away from the usual comforts and distractions of your everyday lives, you would all be forced to rely on each other. And maybe, just maybe, the isolation would do what all the previous attempts had failed to achieve.

But here’s the final kicker—when the day of the camping trip arrived, everyone else conveniently piled into cars together, leaving you and Spencer to drive alone in your car. You noticed the sly looks exchanged between your teammates as they handed out the keys, but before you could protest, Spencer was already sliding into the passenger seat of your vehicle.

Just as you were about to follow the convoy of cars out of the parking lot, Rossi strolled over to your window, an easygoing smile on his face. He handed you a printed sheet of directions, different from the ones the others had received.

"Just in case you get separated," he said with a wink, his tone far too innocent.

You couldn't shake the feeling that Rossi had planned this down to the last detail. Of course, you and Spencer wouldn’t just be separated from the group—you’d be on an entirely different route, one that would give you no choice but to spend even more time together, alone and without the safety net of your other teammates.

As you pulled out of the lot, Spencer sat quietly beside you, his eyes trained on the passing scenery. The silence in the car was heavy, almost suffocating, but there was nothing you could do now. You were in this together, whether either of you liked it or not.

And as the miles stretched out ahead of you, you couldn’t help but wonder what Rossi had in mind, and if this final trick up his sleeve would finally be the one to force Spencer to open up—or if it would just deepen the divide between you.

—

The campsite was a solid three hours away, and while the drive was scenic enough, it didn't change the fact that you had a small bladder and a penchant for drinking a lot of water and coffee. It was inevitable that you'd need to make a pit stop before reaching your destination.

As you glanced at the time on the dashboard and then at the half-empty travel mug in the cupholder, you sighed internally. You’d need to pull over soon. The thought of having to break the silence yet again didn’t exactly thrill you, but the discomfort was starting to outweigh your hesitation.

“Reid,” you said, breaking the quiet that had settled over the car. “I’m going to stop and use the restroom. Want me to grab you anything?”

Spencer, who had been quietly absorbed in the book he was reading, glanced up briefly, his expression neutral. “No, thank you,” he replied politely before returning his attention to the pages in front of him.

You nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at you, and pulled off at the next rest stop. As you parked and unbuckled your seatbelt, you tried not to dwell on the strained exchange. It wasn’t much different from the countless other interactions you’d had with Spencer—brief, polite, and devoid of any real connection.

—

You’d been driving for what felt like ages, the occasional road sign the only indication that you were getting closer to your destination. You were determined to reach the campsite without any further detours, but the unfamiliar roads and winding paths made it easy to second-guess yourself.

“Reid,” you said, breaking the silence again that had settled back over the car like a heavy blanket. “I think we’re getting close. Can you give me directions, please?”

Spencer looked up from his book, blinking a few times as he refocused on the world outside. “Yeah,” he replied simply, his voice still carrying that same detached tone.

He reached for the directions Rossi had given you earlier, unfolding the paper and scanning the instructions. His finger traced the lines of text as he read through the details, his brow furrowing slightly as he calculated the next turn.

“Take the next left,” he instructed, his eyes flicking up to the road ahead. “And then, after about two miles, there should be a right turn onto a dirt road. That should lead us directly to the campsite.”

“Got it,” you said, following his directions carefully, hoping that this final stretch would be as straightforward as he made it sound.

As you turned onto the narrow, winding road Spencer had pointed out, the trees began to close in around you, their dense foliage casting dappled shadows on the path. The silence returned, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant call of a bird. You glanced over at Spencer, who was once again absorbed in his book, his focus seemingly unshakeable.

You couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. Did he realize how obvious the team’s attempts at pushing you two together were? Or was he simply indifferent to it all, content to keep you at arm’s length?

—

“Okay…” you mumbled under your breath as you pulled into what looked like a campsite. The trees parted just enough to reveal a small clearing, but the emptiness of it made you hesitate. The gravel crunched under the tires as you rolled to a stop, and you squinted through the windshield, scanning the area. “This should be the place… Do you see anyone else?”

Spencer lifted his gaze from his book, his eyes narrowing as he looked around the deserted clearing. “Uh, no. No, I do not.”

A sinking feeling settled in your stomach. You leaned forward, double-checking the area, but it was clear—you and Spencer were the only ones there. “Did I take a wrong turn?”

“Not according to the directions,” Spencer replied, his voice calm but not particularly reassuring.

You let out a slow breath, trying to push down the rising anxiety. “Maybe we beat them here?”

“That’s unlikely,” Spencer said, his tone matter-of-fact. “Due to the number of times you pulled over for the restroom.”

You couldn’t help the slight flush that crept up your neck at his blunt observation. “Right,” you said, your voice tight as you tried to figure out what to do next. “So… what do we do now? Should we wait for them to show up?”

Spencer hesitated, his eyes flicking back to the directions. “It’s possible they took a different route. But considering how empty this place is, I’d say we’re either very early, or we’re not at the right site.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, feeling the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders. “Great. Just great. I’ll give Rossi a call,” you muttered, more to yourself than to Spencer, as you reached for your phone. The screen lit up, but when you glanced at the signal bar, your stomach dropped—no signal. “Uh, do you happen to have a signal on your cellphone?”

Spencer pulled his phone from his pocket and checked, his brow furrowing as he studied the screen. After a moment, he sighed, the sound tinged with resignation. “Nope.”

“Fantastic,” you said, the sarcasm barely masking your frustration. “Should we wait for a bit and see if anyone else shows up?”

Spencer considered the suggestion, his gaze drifting back to the empty clearing. “That seems like the best choice right now,” he agreed, his voice steady but lacking any real optimism.

With nothing else to do, you both settled into the uncomfortable silence, the quiet only broken by the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. The minutes stretched on, each one feeling longer than the last as you both kept your eyes on the road, hoping to see the rest of the team’s cars pull in. But the road remained empty, and the only company you had was the uneasy tension that had settled between you.

If this was Rossi’s idea of getting you and Spencer to bond, it was off to a rocky start.

—

The campsite in front of you looked serene and peaceful, bathed in the soft light filtering through the towering trees. The fire pit in the center was surrounded by a few scattered logs, perfect for sitting around and enjoying the warmth of a campfire. Despite its picturesque setting, the site was eerily empty, with no sign of the team anywhere.

Eventually, you heard the sound of Spencer unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. The soft click of the door opening made you glance over. “What are you doing?” you asked, a hint of curiosity in your voice.

“Getting out,” Spencer replied simply as he stepped onto the gravel. “I want to stretch my legs.”

You nodded, realizing that was a good idea. “Yeah, good idea,” you agreed, your tone a bit lighter now. The tension of being cooped up in the car with nothing but silence between you two was beginning to wear on you.

You both got out of the car, the fresh air a welcome change after the long drive. As you stood there, taking in the surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a bit more relaxed. The forest around you was alive with the sounds of nature—the rustling of leaves, the distant chirping of birds, and the faint crackle of the fire pit from when it was last used.

Spencer moved toward the center of the campsite, his hands tucked into his pockets as he looked around. “It’s a nice spot,” he commented, his voice carrying a hint of appreciation.

You walked a little closer to him, scanning the area for any signs of the team. “Yeah,” you agreed, though the emptiness still gnawed at you. “But it’s weird that no one else is here yet.”

Spencer nodded, his brow furrowing slightly. “Maybe they’re just running late. Or they took a different route like I said before.”

You glanced back at the car, then around the site again. It was hard to shake the feeling that something was off, but there wasn’t much you could do about it now. “Well, at least it’s peaceful,” you said, trying to focus on the positive.

Spencer gave a small nod, seemingly content to stand there in the stillness of the forest. Despite the lingering uncertainty, there was something calming about the solitude, and for a moment, the silence between you felt less strained and more comfortable.

—

As the sun dipped lower behind the trees, casting long shadows across the campsite, you felt a growing sense of unease. The emptiness of the site was now coupled with the approaching darkness, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. You finally voiced your concern, unable to keep it to yourself any longer. “Spencer, they’re obviously not coming. Should we drive around? Look for a fire? Or just head home?”

Spencer, who had been pacing slightly near the car, stopped and looked at you, his expression conflicted. “I don’t—I don’t know what we should do,” he admitted, his voice wavering slightly, a rare display of uncertainty from him.

You bit your lip, weighing the options. None of them seemed particularly appealing, especially as the light continued to fade. “Okay… do you just want to set up here for the night and figure it out in the morning?”

“Umm… yeah,” he agreed after a moment, though his tone was far from confident. “Do you mind if I sleep in the car?”

That caught you off guard. “Sure…” you replied slowly, trying to mask your surprise. Spencer had always been an enigma, but this felt particularly strange. It wasn’t like him to be so unsettled.

Alas, you pushed the oddness aside and decided to focus on the practical. You set about pitching your tent, the familiar motions calming your nerves slightly. Once it was up, you ducked inside to change into your pajamas, eager to get a fire going and start making some food. The pangs of hunger were beginning to make themselves known, and you knew you needed to eat something soon.

When you emerged from the tent, you glanced over at Spencer, who was standing by the car, arms crossed, looking even more out of place than usual. “Spencer, you can use my tent to change if you want,” you offered, trying to bridge the gap between you.

“No thank you, I’m fine,” he replied quickly, almost too quickly. His refusal struck you as odd, adding to the growing list of things that didn’t seem right about this situation.

“Would you mind getting the cooler from the boot then?” you asked, hoping to keep things moving forward, even if everything else felt off.

Spencer nodded and moved to the back of the car, retrieving the cooler with a quiet efficiency. But as you started preparing the food, you couldn’t help but notice how closely he was watching you. His gaze was intense, almost as if he was studying you—or perhaps watching out for something.

It was unsettling, to say the least. You tried to brush it off, focusing on the task at hand, but it was difficult to ignore the prickling sensation of being observed so intently. “Everything okay?” you asked casually as you stirred the food, hoping to ease some of the tension.

Spencer blinked, seeming to snap out of whatever thoughts had been occupying his mind. “Yeah,” he said, though his tone wasn’t entirely convincing.

You paused for a moment, considering his words. While it wasn’t unusual for Spencer to be cautious, the way he was acting now felt different—like he was on edge, anticipating something. “Let’s eat and get some rest. We’ll figure everything out in the morning.”

He nodded, but the unease didn’t leave his eyes. As you finished cooking and began to serve up the food, you couldn’t help but wonder what had Spencer so spooked—and whether you should be more concerned than you already were.

—

That night, Spencer stuck to his word and slept in the car with the doors locked. You couldn’t help but feel a little puzzled by his behavior—he seemed so on edge, far more than you’d ever seen him, and it left you wondering why he had agreed to come camping in the first place. The idea of him spending the night in a locked car instead of enjoying the fresh air and the open sky was odd, to say the least.

But despite the lingering unease, you slept surprisingly well. Camping had always been something you loved—the scent of the pine trees, the sounds of the forest, the cool breeze that swept through the tent—all of it made you feel at peace. The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl, and you drifted off easily, wrapped in your sleeping bag.

When you woke the next morning, the sun was already casting a warm glow over the campsite. You stretched, feeling refreshed, and emerged from your tent to find Spencer already awake. He was crouched by a small fire, a pot of instant coffee brewing over the flames. The sight of him tending to the fire, his movements precise and deliberate, was a little surprising. It was clear that he hadn’t slept much—if at all.

“Good morning,” you mumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you walked over to him.

“Morning,” Spencer replied, his voice calm but still carrying that edge of tension.

You sat down on one of the logs near the fire, enjoying the warmth it provided as you shook off the last remnants of sleep. “How’d you sleep?” you asked, trying to gauge his mood.

“Fine,” he answered shortly, though you weren’t convinced. “You?”

“Really good,” you said with a small smile. “I love the fresh air. There’s just something about being out here that makes everything feel better.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze fixed on the pot of coffee as he stirred it. “Yeah, fresh air is good,” he said absently, though his tone lacked the enthusiasm you had.

You watched him for a moment, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the way he seemed to be holding himself together with sheer willpower. Something was definitely off, but you weren’t sure how to address it without making him uncomfortable. “Spencer,” you began cautiously, “is everything okay? You seem… different.”

He paused, the spoon in his hand stilling as he considered your question. After a long moment, he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. “I just… I don’t like the idea of being out here without the rest of the team. It doesn’t feel right.”

His admission caught you off guard. You knew Spencer was meticulous, always needing to have control over the details, but you hadn’t realized just how much this situation was affecting him. “I get that,” you said softly, trying to offer some reassurance. “But we’re safe here, and we’ll figure things out. Maybe we’ll hear from them once we’re back in range.”

Spencer gave a small nod, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. “Yeah, maybe,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You decided to let the conversation drop, not wanting to push him further. Instead, you focused on the comforting smell of coffee and the crackling of the fire. The warmth of the morning sun filtered through the trees, casting a golden light over the campsite. For a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, taking in the peaceful surroundings.

But as you glanced around the site, something caught your eye—a piece of paper tacked to a tree, fluttering slightly in the breeze. “Hey, did you see that?” you asked, pointing towards it.

Before Spencer could answer, you were already on your feet, walking towards the tree. The paper was pinned to the bark with a small tack, and as you pulled it down, you quickly scanned the handwritten note. Your eyes widened as you read the familiar handwriting, the message becoming clear.

Hey guys!

I know you’ll be mad about this, but please see it from our point of view. We sent you two to a separate site, please talk through your issues, we are a team and we need to be able to trust each other. Obviously, we can’t force you to stay, but if you do come home early, you will each have to take two paid days off. No work.

Please, work it out.

You stared at the note in disbelief for a moment, the words sinking in. This whole thing—Rossi’s directions, the empty campsite, the strange sense of being set up—it had all been orchestrated by the team. They had sent you and Spencer to a completely different site, forcing you into isolation together with the clear intention that you’d hash out whatever had been causing the rift between you.

You turned back to Spencer, holding the note up so he could see it. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, frustration and disbelief coloring your voice.

Spencer stood up and walked over, taking the paper from your hand. His eyes quickly scanned the note, and you could see the tension in his shoulders as he realized what had happened. “They… they set us up,” he said quietly, his voice laced with irritation and something else—maybe betrayal.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you replied, crossing your arms as you processed the situation. “They’re basically holding us hostage until we ‘work it out.’”

Spencer shook his head, clearly struggling with the realization. “They can’t just force us to talk. We’re not children.”

“Apparently, they think we need to be treated like we are,” you replied, the frustration in your voice mirroring his.

He remained silent, his eyes still fixed on the note as if it might offer some sort of solution. The fire crackled behind you, the only sound breaking the heavy tension that had settled between the two of you. The note in his hand felt like a ticking time bomb, and you both knew there was no avoiding the conversation any longer.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. This wasn’t how you had envisioned things going, but there was no turning back now. “Spencer… should we just talk about it?” you asked, your voice softer, almost pleading.

“About what?” he replied, still not meeting your eyes, his tone flat and defensive.

“Come on… please,” you urged, trying to keep your frustration at bay. You needed to get to the bottom of this, once and for all. “Did I do something to you?”

“No,” he answered quickly, his voice sharp with finality.

“But you don’t like me,” you pressed, feeling the frustration bubbling up. It wasn’t just his short answers that were getting to you; it was the wall he was so clearly putting up, the refusal to even entertain the possibility of a conversation. You were tired of dancing around the issue, of feeling like you were constantly walking on eggshells around him.

“It’s not—” Spencer started, but then he cut himself off, clenching his jaw. His eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, you saw something flash in them—something like pain, or maybe guilt. But just as quickly, he looked away, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

The firmness in his voice left little room for argument, but you weren’t ready to give up. Not after everything. “Spencer, please,” you said, trying to reach him on a level beyond the walls he’d built around himself. “I’m not trying to push you, but this… whatever this is between us… it’s affecting the team. It’s affecting us. We can’t just keep pretending it doesn’t exist.”

Spencer’s shoulders tensed, and you could see the internal struggle he was facing, the way his mind was working through a hundred different thoughts at once. He seemed to be weighing his options, considering whether or not to open up. But in the end, all he did was shake his head again, his expression closing off. “I can’t,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, but I just… I can’t.”

You felt a pang of disappointment, not just for yourself, but for him too. Whatever was going on inside his head, it was clearly something he wasn’t ready—or willing—to share. And that left you at an impasse, standing on opposite sides of a divide neither of you knew how to cross.

“Okay, well,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration as you turned away from him, “I’m just going to go for a walk then.”

Spencer’s head snapped up, his eyes widening slightly in alarm. “No, Y/N, that could be dangerous,” he said, his tone more urgent than you expected. There was a genuine concern in his voice, a sharp contrast to the distance he’d been maintaining.

“I don’t care,” you replied, your words coming out sharper than you intended. You needed to clear your head, to get some space, even if it meant wandering off into the woods. The tension between you and Spencer had reached a breaking point, and staying here, in this stifling atmosphere, felt unbearable.

You turned and started walking away, not really caring which direction you were heading. The forest loomed around you, the trees casting long shadows in the morning light, but you welcomed the solitude. You needed time to think, to process everything that had just happened.

Behind you, you heard Spencer call your name again, but you didn’t stop. The sound of his voice faded as you walked deeper into the trees, the cool air brushing against your skin as you moved further away from the campsite. You didn’t know where you were going or how far you would walk, but right now, that didn’t matter. All you wanted was some distance—from the campsite, from Spencer, from the emotions that had been building up inside you.

You heard the leaves crunch beneath your boots as you continued walking, the forest growing quieter with each step. The anger and frustration that had driven you out here began to ebb, replaced by a heavy feeling of sadness. You didn’t know why Spencer was so intent on keeping you at arm’s length, but whatever it was, it hurt. It hurt more than you wanted to admit.

But for now, you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the rhythm of your footsteps and the cool, fresh air filling your lungs. The walk might not solve anything, but it was a start. At least out here, you could breathe.

—

When you finally returned to the campsite, the tension in your chest had eased, though the lingering frustration and sadness hadn’t entirely left. As you approached, you noticed Spencer sitting by the fire, a new book in his hands. His fingers flicked through the pages at lightning speed, a blur of motion as he absorbed the text with the kind of intensity that only Spencer Reid could muster.

He didn’t look up right away, but you noticed his ears perk up at the sound of your footsteps crunching over the forest floor. It was a subtle movement, but it was clear he was aware of your presence, even if he wasn’t immediately acknowledging it.

You stood there for a moment, watching him as he continued to read, his focus unwavering despite your return. The sight of him, so deeply engrossed in his book, made you wonder if he’d spent the entire time trying to escape into its pages, to block out the unresolved tension between you both.

“Okay, Spencer,” you began, your voice steady as you walked closer to where he sat. “Here it is. I’ll drive us back tonight. I’ll tell Hotch that I made us leave and I’ll take the two days of paid leave. It’s fine. You don’t have to talk to me, and I’ll take the blame.”

Spencer finally looked up from his book, his eyes widening slightly as he processed your words. There was surprise and confusion in his expression, as if he couldn’t quite believe what you were saying. For a moment, he just stared at you, the book forgotten in his hands.

“You… you’d do that?” he asked, his voice soft, almost uncertain. He had expected you to be angry, maybe even confrontational after the way things had gone earlier, but instead, here you were, offering to take the blame, to make it easier for him.

It was clear that Spencer couldn’t believe how nice you were being, especially after everything. He had spent so long keeping you at a distance, fearing that you might turn out to be like your sister, but your words and actions were proving just how wrong he might have been.

“Yeah,” you said with a small shrug, trying to downplay the gesture even though it meant a lot to you. “I mean, we’re obviously not getting anywhere with this. If leaving early is what’s best, then that’s what we’ll do. And I don’t mind taking the hit for it. I’m not going to force you to talk if you don’t want to.”

Spencer swallowed, still struggling to find the right words. He wasn’t used to this kind of kindness, especially not from someone he had kept at arm’s length for so long. It was disarming, to say the least.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” he finally admitted, his voice tinged with genuine surprise. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to,” you replied, meeting his gaze with a soft, understanding smile. “But I’m offering to because I know this whole situation isn’t easy for either of us. I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable.”

For a long moment, Spencer just looked at you, trying to reconcile the person standing in front of him with the fears and assumptions he had held onto for so long.

“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice sincere. “I… I really appreciate it. But maybe… maybe we don’t have to leave just yet. We could just… see how things go.”

You nodded, sensing the tentative olive branch he was offering. “Okay,” you said gently, feeling a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something better between the two of you.

Spencer nodded, a small, almost hesitant smile forming on his lips. It was a start—a small one, but a start nonetheless.

“Could I maybe ask you a question?” you ventured, your voice tentative, hoping to bridge the gap between you both just a little more.

“Sure,” Spencer said, closing his book slightly but still keeping his thumb between the pages, as if not entirely ready to let go of his comfort zone.

“Did I… do something?” you asked, the question hanging in the air between you. You had to know, even if it was uncomfortable.

Spencer’s eyes softened as he shook his head. “No,” he replied, his tone gentle, yet firm. “You didn’t do anything.”

There was a brief pause, the silence between you more comfortable now than it had been earlier. You gave a small nod, accepting his answer even if it didn’t give you all the clarity you had hoped for. “Okay, I’ll leave you with your book,” you said, starting to step back, figuring he might want some space.

But to your surprise, Spencer didn’t pick up where he left off in his book. Instead, he looked up at you, his expression more open than it had been since you’d met. “You don’t have to… we can talk a bit,” he offered, and though his voice was cautious, there was a genuine willingness in it.

You smiled slightly, appreciating the gesture. “Alright,” you agreed, trying to think of something simple to start with. “Um, where did you grow up?”

“Las Vegas,” Spencer answered, the familiar name rolling off his tongue with a mix of nostalgia and a hint of something else—perhaps a memory he wasn’t sure he wanted to share yet.

“Seriously?” you asked, your eyes widening with surprise.

“Yeah… is that weird?” Spencer replied, his expression uncertain, as if he was bracing for your reaction.

“No, no, that’s where I grew up too,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief. The coincidence was almost too much to wrap your head around.

“Oh…” Spencer’s voice trailed off, and you could see the wheels turning in his mind. He seemed hesitant, like there was something more he wasn’t saying.

You narrowed your eyes playfully, sensing there was more to the story. “Okay, you know something. Did you see my file or something?”

Spencer hesitated, his eyes darting away for a moment before he answered. “Or something…”

You let out an exaggerated sigh, half-joking, but still curious. “Oh, come on, Spencer. What’s up? What school did you go to?”

“Las Vegas High,” he admitted, finally meeting your gaze again.

Your eyes lit up with recognition. “Me too! Wait… but you’re only two years younger than me. Would I have known you?”

Spencer’s expression shifted slightly, and you could see a mix of emotions flicker across his face—hesitation, discomfort, maybe even a touch of embarrassment. “No… uh, I was a freshman at 8 years old.”

“Woah! That’s insane!” you exclaimed, genuinely amazed. “That must have been so difficult for you.”

“It was,” Spencer admitted quietly, his voice carrying the weight of old memories.

You felt a pang of empathy for him, imagining how tough it must have been to navigate high school as a child. The challenges he faced were beyond anything you could have imagined at that age. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I wish we had been in school at the same time, we could have been friends,” you said, offering him a warm smile.

Spencer’s discomfort was palpable, and you could sense it immediately, like a shift in the air between you. He shifted in his seat, his gaze dropping back to the ground as if he was retreating into himself again. “What did we bring for dinner tonight?” he asked, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to steer the conversation away from where it had been heading.

The sudden change in topic stung, a pang of rejection hitting you square in the chest. You had thought, just for a moment, that you were making progress, that maybe you were getting through to him. But you knew Spencer well enough by now to realize that he wasn’t ready to go there, not yet. And pushing him wouldn’t help.

So, for his sake, you forced yourself to move on. “Uh, hotdogs, I think,” you said, trying to match his casual tone, even though the disappointment lingered in the back of your mind.

You busied yourself with preparing the food, focusing on the simple task of gathering the ingredients and setting them up by the fire. The familiar motions helped ground you, giving you something to concentrate on besides the unease that had crept back into your interactions.

Spencer remained quiet, watching you out of the corner of his eye as you worked. There was a tension in his posture, a subtle but unmistakable sign that he was still grappling with whatever had made him uncomfortable in the first place.

“Hotdogs it is, then,” you said, forcing a small smile as you handed him a stick to skewer the hotdogs. You hoped that by focusing on something as simple as cooking dinner, you could ease some of the tension between you, even if the conversation from earlier still hung heavy in the air.

Spencer took the stick from you, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest of moments. “Thanks,” he said quietly, his eyes meeting yours for just a second before he looked away again.

As the two of you cooked over the fire, the crackling flames and the scent of roasting hotdogs filled the air, creating a more comfortable silence. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start, and for now, that was enough.

—

The conversation over dinner had been light and mostly focused on work—discussing cases, swapping stories about the more mundane aspects of life at the BAU. It was easy, familiar territory, a safe haven for both of you to retreat to after the earlier tension. But as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the campsite, a quiet settled between you.

After finishing your meal, you excused yourself to change into your pajamas, the cool night air making you eager to get comfortable. When you returned to the fire, Spencer was still sitting by the flames, the orange light flickering over his face as he stared into the fire, lost in thought.

You approached him, sitting back down across from him. The night was still, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the distant rustle of leaves. For a moment, you hesitated, not wanting to break the fragile peace, but curiosity got the better of you.

“Hey, Reid,” you called softly, trying to ease into the question that had been on your mind since the night before.

“Mhm,” he hummed in response, not looking up from the fire but clearly acknowledging you.

You bit your lip, then decided to just go for it. “Why did you sleep in the car?”

The question hung in the air between you, and you saw Spencer’s entire body stiffen. He froze, his eyes widening slightly, the tension in his shoulders returning in an instant. You could tell he didn’t want to answer, and for a second, you regretted asking. But you had to know.

“Just safer, I guess,” he finally mumbled, his voice tight and unconvincing. His eyes remained fixed on the fire, avoiding your gaze entirely.

You could sense there was more to it, something he wasn’t telling you, but you decided not to push. Spencer was clearly uncomfortable, and whatever the real reason was, he wasn’t ready to share it. So you nodded, accepting his explanation even if it didn’t feel entirely truthful.

“Okay,” you said softly, letting the matter drop. You didn’t want to make him feel any more uneasy than he already did.

—

Halfway through the night, you jolted awake, your heart pounding in your chest. There was an eerie, unsettling sound coming from outside your tent—a low, persistent noise that sent chills down your spine. You tried to ignore it, to convince yourself it was just the wind or some animal moving through the underbrush, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t calm down. The noise wasn’t stopping, and the longer it went on, the more your imagination ran wild.

Unable to shake the growing fear, you carefully and quietly unzipped your sleeping bag and slipped out of the tent. The cold night air hit you immediately, but the fear kept you moving. You crept toward the car, every step making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. When you reached the car, you knocked lightly on the window, hoping not to startle Spencer too much.

“Spencer!” you whisper-yelled, trying to keep your voice low but urgent. You could see him stir where he had flattened the back seats into a makeshift bed, his body shifting as he came to.

“Reid!” you whispered again, a little more urgently this time.

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at you with wide, confused eyes. He sat up quickly, clearly surprised to see you standing there in the middle of the night. He leaned forward and unlocked the door, cracking it open just enough to speak to you. “What??” he asked, his voice still heavy with sleep and a touch of irritation.

“Can I come in, please?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly with fear.

Spencer blinked, clearly not expecting that. “No??” he replied, still half-asleep and unsure of what you were asking.

“Spencer, there’s a really scary noise out here,” you pleaded, your fear becoming more evident as you looked at him with wide, desperate eyes. “Please, please let me in.”

Spencer hesitated, his mind racing. He was still wary, worried that this might be some sort of prank or something worse. But as he looked at you, really looked at you, he saw the genuine fear in your expression. You weren’t trying to mess with him—you were genuinely scared. He’d never seen you like this before.

“Okay, fine,” he finally relented, scooting over to make room for you in the cramped space.

You didn’t waste any time, quickly crawling into the car and pulling the door closed behind you. As soon as you were inside, Spencer locked the doors again, the click of the locks echoing in the silence.

The two of you sat there for a moment, the car suddenly feeling much smaller with both of you inside. The strange noise outside continued, but now that you were with Spencer, the fear didn’t seem as overwhelming. You still couldn’t pinpoint what the noise was, but you felt safer with him there, even if he was still a bit unsure about the whole situation.

Spencer looked at you, his expression softening slightly. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the irritation gone.

You nodded, still trying to calm your racing heart. “Yeah… I just couldn’t stay in the tent with that noise. It was freaking me out.”

He nodded in understanding, though his eyes flicked toward the windows, clearly trying to listen for the noise himself. “It’s probably just an animal,” he said, trying to reassure both you and himself.

“Maybe,” you whispered, though you weren’t entirely convinced. But for now, you were just grateful to be out of the tent and with someone who made you feel a little less alone.

—

Eventually, despite the lingering fear and the cramped quarters, exhaustion took over, and you both drifted off to sleep in the back of the car. The strange noise outside had faded into the background, and the warmth of the enclosed space made it easier to relax.

Sometime in the middle of the night, however, Spencer stirred from his sleep, his body shifting slightly as he became aware of something unexpected. Blinking his eyes open, he realized with a start that your limbs were wrapped around him, your body pressed close as you clung to him in your sleep. Your arm was draped over his chest, your leg tangled with his, and your head was nestled against his shoulder. It was as if you had sought out the warmth and security he provided, even unconsciously.

Spencer froze, his mind racing as he tried to process the situation. He wasn’t used to this—intimacy, even in such an innocent form, was foreign territory for him. His heart started to race, not out of fear but out of sheer confusion. What was he supposed to do? Should he wake you? Should he try to untangle himself without disturbing you?

But as he lay there, feeling the rise and fall of your breathing against him, he couldn’t bring himself to move. There was something oddly comforting about the way you had sought him out, something that made him feel… needed. It was a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to, and it left him at a loss for what to do next.

He glanced down at you, seeing the peaceful expression on your face as you slept. The fear and tension from earlier had melted away, replaced by a calmness that was almost contagious. Spencer’s mind continued to whirl, but he didn’t want to disturb you—not when you seemed so at ease.

So, he stayed still, letting you cling to him, trying to reconcile the strange mix of emotions coursing through him. The awkwardness was still there, but it was tempered by a quiet realization that maybe, just maybe, things between you two were starting to change. And for the first time in a long while, that didn’t seem so terrifying after all.

—

When the morning sun filtered through the trees, casting warm golden rays across the campsite, Spencer was already outside, crouched by the fire as he prepared coffee. The familiar scent of brewing coffee wafted through the air, mingling with the fresh scent of the forest, creating a peaceful start to the day. You emerged from the car, feeling a little stiff from the cramped sleep, but more than that, you were feeling a twinge of embarrassment.

You approached Spencer, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Hey… thanks again for letting me bunk with you,” you said, your voice laced with genuine gratitude.

“No problem,” Spencer replied, his tone flat, distant, as he focused on the coffee. He didn’t look up, his gaze firmly fixed on the task at hand.

The coldness in his voice felt like a sharp contrast to the fleeting moment of connection you thought you’d shared the night before. You sighed, the disappointment settling heavily in your chest. Somehow, it seemed like you’d messed up again, and you couldn’t help but feel the sting of rejection all over again.

“Did that… make you uncomfortable? I’m sorry,” you ventured, hoping to clear the air, even if it meant confronting whatever it was that had made him withdraw.

“It’s fine,” Spencer replied, his voice clipped, as if he was trying to end the conversation before it could really start. He still didn’t meet your eyes, his attention entirely on the coffee pot.

You watched him for a moment, feeling the familiar ache of misunderstanding between you two. It was clear that whatever had happened during the night had unsettled him, but he wasn’t willing to talk about it. The walls were back up, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t seem to break through.

But instead of pressing further, you decided to let it go, at least for now. Pushing Spencer never worked, and you knew that trying to force a conversation would only make things worse. So you offered him a small, resigned smile, even if he wasn’t looking to see it.

“Okay,” you said softly, accepting his response even though it left you feeling hollow.

You sat down by the fire, quietly waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. The silence between you felt heavy, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had taken a step backward after all the progress you thought you’d made.

“Um, we can head out whenever you’re ready. We only had to stay until today,” you mumbled, your voice subdued as you stood up and started to take down your tent. You avoided looking directly at Spencer, the awkwardness of the morning still hanging in the air.

“Oh, okay,” Spencer replied, his tone neutral, though you could sense a hint of hesitation in his response.

As you began to disassemble the tent, Spencer watched you for a moment, the silence between you lingering. Despite everything, he found himself reluctant to leave. The tension and awkwardness aside, there had been moments—small, fleeting moments—where he had actually enjoyed your company. The quiet of the campsite, the simplicity of the night, even the unexpected comfort he’d found in your presence last night… it was all something he hadn’t anticipated.

He felt a strange pull, a desire to stay just a little longer, even if he couldn’t quite articulate why. But he was Spencer Reid, and expressing those kinds of feelings wasn’t something that came easily to him. Instead, he stood there, conflicted, as he watched you go about packing up.

“Actually… we don’t have to rush,” Spencer finally said, his voice softer now. “If you want, we could stay for a little while longer. There’s no hurry.”

You paused in your task, surprised by his words. You turned to look at him, searching his face for any sign of what had changed his mind. “Are you sure?” you asked cautiously, not wanting to impose if he really wanted to leave.

Spencer nodded, his expression more open than it had been all morning. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s… nice out here. Peaceful.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and for the first time that morning, you felt a bit of the tension ease. Maybe you hadn’t messed up as badly as you thought. “Okay,” you agreed, setting the tent pole back down. “We can stay a little longer.”

Spencer gave a small, almost imperceptible smile in return, and as the two of you stood there in the morning light, it felt like there was a chance to start over—to take the time neither of you had been willing to take before.

—

After a simple breakfast, you looked over at Spencer, feeling a bit more at ease with the morning stretching out before you. “When I went for a walk, I saw a body of water,” you suggested, trying to keep the conversation light and inviting. “Do you want to go check it out?”

Spencer looked up from his coffee, a little surprised by the suggestion. “Oh, sure,” he agreed, his tone more relaxed than it had been earlier.

The two of you set off through the trees, following the path you had taken before. It didn’t take long to find the body of water again, the sunlight reflecting off its surface in shimmering patterns. The sight was even more beautiful now, with the morning light casting a gentle glow over the water.

“It’s gorgeous,” Spencer said softly, his voice filled with genuine appreciation as he took in the scene.

“Yeah,” you agreed, your eyes sweeping over the peaceful setting. The water was so clear, so inviting, that you couldn’t resist the urge to get in. “I’m going to get in,” you announced, already starting to kick off your shoes.

“What?” Spencer’s voice cracked, his surprise evident as he watched you strip down to your undergarments without hesitation. His cheeks flushed a light shade of pink as you waded into the cold, refreshing water, a small shiver running through you as the temperature hit your skin.

The water was invigorating, waking you up in a way that the morning coffee never could. You splashed around a bit, reveling in the feeling of the water against your skin. Turning back to Spencer, who was still standing at the edge, looking unsure of what to do, you grinned. “Do you know how to swim, genius?”

“Yes,” he replied, blushing even deeper as he averted his eyes slightly, clearly trying to maintain some semblance of decorum despite the situation.

“Do you want to join me?” you asked, your voice light and teasing as you floated on your back, letting the water carry you.

Spencer hesitated, clearly torn between his natural inclination to stay dry and the surprising appeal of joining you in the water. After a moment, he looked back at you, the uncertainty in his eyes slowly giving way to something else—curiosity, maybe even a touch of daring.

“Alright,” he finally said, as if making a decision that surprised even himself. With a deep breath, he began to unbutton his shirt, methodically removing his clothes until he was down to a tshirt and briefs. His movements were careful, deliberate, as if he was still a bit unsure about this whole idea.

When he finally stepped into the water, a shiver ran through him as the cold enveloped his body. “It’s… colder than I expected,” he admitted, his voice a bit higher-pitched than usual.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, watching as he waded in deeper, adjusting to the temperature. “You’ll get used to it,” you assured him, still floating easily on the surface.

Spencer nodded, his movements tentative at first, but as he swam out to where you were, he began to relax. There was a certain lightness to the moment, a freedom that neither of you had felt in a long time. The water, the sun, the simple act of swimming—it was a welcome escape from the tension that had defined your interactions until now.

The two of you spent what felt like hours playing and splashing in the water, the cool waves washing away the tension that had been hanging between you. It was a rare, carefree moment where you both felt free and childlike, laughing without a care in the world. There were no pressures, no responsibilities—just the simple joy of being in the moment.

But as the sun climbed higher in the sky, signaling that it was time to come out, you noticed a shift in Spencer. He seemed hesitant, his earlier playfulness replaced with a familiar tension. He lingered in the water, avoiding your gaze, and you could sense his discomfort.

“Um, Y/N… can you turn around when I get out?” Spencer asked, his voice quiet, almost nervous.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, of course,” you replied, caught a little off guard by his request but willing to do whatever made him comfortable.

“And, um… maybe walk a bit away?” he added, his tone even more tentative.

“Uh huh, sure. Whatever you want,” you said gently, giving him a reassuring smile before turning away and moving up the bank. You grabbed your clothes and began walking a bit further from the water, giving him the privacy he clearly needed.

Spencer waited until you were a safe distance away and preoccupied with getting dressed before he quickly and quietly scrambled out of the water, pulling on his clothes as fast as he could. The vulnerability of being in nothing but water-tight briefs had brought back all his fears, the insecurities that had haunted him for years.

As you both started the walk back to the campsite, you couldn’t help but address the tension that still lingered. “Did you think I would make fun of you?” you asked, your voice soft, but tinged with concern.

Spencer shook his head slightly, though he didn’t look at you. “Oh, no, I don’t know,” he mumbled, clearly uncomfortable.

Your heart ached at his response. “I wouldn’t, for the record,” you said earnestly, hoping to reassure him.

There was a brief silence, heavy with unspoken emotions, before you felt compelled to share something of your own. “I grew up with a really mean sister,” you began, your voice carrying the weight of old wounds. “She would make fun of everyone for anything and everything, including me. It was a torturous way to grow up. I would never want to make anyone feel the way that she made me feel.”

Spencer suddenly stopped walking, his entire body tensing as if he’d hit an invisible wall. You turned to him, alarmed by the sudden change.

“Spencer? Are you okay?” you asked, worry lacing your voice.

He took a deep breath, his voice strained as he spoke. “It’s not you, it’s never been you,” he said, his words confusing you even more. “It was your sister.”

“What?” you whispered, the revelation hitting you like a cold gust of wind.

“Your sister was in my grade in high school,” Spencer explained, his voice trembling with the emotions he’d kept buried for so long.

“Oh…” was all you could manage, the pieces slowly clicking into place.

“She wasn’t nice,” Spencer continued, his voice thick with the memories. His eyes welled up with tears, and he blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. “She bullied me pretty relentlessly. Tied me up naked to a flagpole and took pictures.”

“Spencer… oh my God,” you breathed, horror and guilt crashing over you. You thought your heart had broken earlier, but now it felt shattered, the pieces scattered by the weight of his confession. “I don’t even know what to say. I am so, so sorry. No one ever deserves that. I can’t believe you went through that.”

Spencer nodded, the tears finally spilling over as he stood there, vulnerable in a way you had never seen before. The pain he had carried for so long, the fear that had driven a wedge between you, was now out in the open.

“Can I—can I hug you?” you offered, your voice gentle, filled with the empathy and care that had been building in your heart since Spencer’s revelation.

Spencer hesitated for only a moment before nodding, allowing you to pull him into an embrace. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, feeling the tension in his body gradually melt away as he leaned into the comfort you were offering.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you murmured softly against his shoulder. “I’m going to assume that you were afraid of me being like my sister, and that’s why you didn’t talk to me.”

Spencer nodded again, his silent confirmation making your heart ache even more for him. You could only imagine the fear and pain he must have felt, avoiding you because of a past that had nothing to do with who you truly were.

“I just want you to know, Spencer,” you continued, your voice steady but filled with emotion, “I would never do anything to hurt you in any way. I am nothing like her. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be the opposite of her. My family disowned her a long time ago.”

Spencer pulled back slightly then, just enough to look at you, his eyes still wet with tears. There was a vulnerability in his gaze that you hadn’t seen before, a deep, raw emotion that spoke volumes. “I believe you,” he whispered, his voice breaking but filled with sincerity.

Your own eyes stung with unshed tears, the weight of his belief in you meaning more than you could express. “I’m so sorry to have made you feel uncomfortable this whole time,” you said, your voice thick with regret. “I completely understand why you didn’t want to get too close to me.”

Spencer shook his head slightly, about to apologize, but you stopped him before he could. “No, never apologize for protecting yourself,” you insisted, your tone firm but kind. “We’ve solved it now, and that’s what matters. I hope we can be friends?”

There was a moment of silence as Spencer processed your words, and then, slowly, a small but genuine smile formed on his lips. “Of course,” he said softly, his voice filled with a warmth that hadn’t been there before.

You smiled back, feeling a sense of relief and hope wash over you. The wall between you and Spencer had finally come down, and in its place was the beginning of a real connection—one built on understanding, empathy, and the promise of a friendship that could grow from here.

“Thank you,” Spencer added quietly, his voice full of gratitude. And for the first time, you both felt like you were truly starting fresh, free from the shadows of the past.

—

You and Spencer made it back to Quantico with a sense of quiet relief, knowing that the rift between you had finally been addressed. When you reported back to the team, you both kept the details vague, simply letting them know that you had worked things out. Spencer was immensely grateful for your discretion, and you could see it in the small, appreciative smiles he sent your way. During the ride back, the two of you had chatted the entire time, the conversation flowing easily as if the weight of the past had finally been lifted.

The next day at work, you felt a new sense of ease around Spencer. The tension was gone, replaced by the beginnings of what felt like a genuine friendship. As you approached his desk, you felt a little flutter of nerves, but it was a good kind—like you were about to take a step forward into something new.

“Hey, Spencer…” you called softly as you reached his desk.

He looked up from his work, a smile spreading across his face when he saw you. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted warmly.

“Would you maybe want to come over this weekend? We could watch a movie or something?” you asked, hoping to continue building on the connection you’d started.

“Sure,” he grinned, clearly pleased by the invitation. “That sounds great.”

You returned his smile, feeling a little spark of excitement as you walked away. It felt good to know that things between you and Spencer were on a new path, one that was built on mutual understanding and trust.

Unbeknownst to you, Derek Morgan had been casually eavesdropping from a distance. As soon as you were out of earshot, he sneaked up on Spencer, a mischievous grin on his face. “You got yourself a date, Reid?” Derek teased, leaning on the desk with a playful glint in his eye.

Spencer’s eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly, his cheeks flushing slightly. “What? No, we’re just hanging out,” he insisted, his voice flustered but firm.

“Mhm,” Derek hummed, not buying it for a second, his teasing grin only widening. “Sure, man, just hanging out.”

Spencer shot him a look, trying to maintain his composure, but the slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips gave him away. Despite Derek’s teasing, there was a sense of warmth and excitement bubbling up inside Spencer—because for the first time, “just hanging out” with someone felt like it could lead to something more, even if he wasn’t quite ready to admit it yet.

Derek chuckled and gave Spencer a friendly pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving Spencer to ponder the possibilities that lay ahead, a small smile still lingering on his face.

—

Friday evening arrived faster than you and Spencer had expected. Both of you were feeling excitement and nervousness, eager for the evening ahead but also unsure of how it would unfold. You had spent the day tidying up and preparing your living room, making sure everything was just right for your night of movie watching and hanging out. You wanted Spencer to feel comfortable, and you hoped the cozy atmosphere you’d created would help set the tone for a relaxing evening.

When Spencer arrived at your place, he was immediately taken aback by the scene before him. Your living room was bathed in the soft glow of string lights, their warm hue giving the room a welcoming, almost magical quality. The sunset outside the window painted the sky in shades of pink and orange, adding to the serene ambiance. The couch was piled with soft blankets, and a few pillows were scattered around, inviting him to sit and get comfortable. On the coffee table, you had set out some snacks, drinks, and everything you might need for a night of watching movies.

As he stepped inside, Spencer couldn’t help but smile, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He had been half-expecting some sort of trick or prank, but instead, you had gone out of your way to make the evening as enjoyable as possible. It was clear that you genuinely wanted to spend time with him, and the effort you’d put into setting everything up didn’t go unnoticed.

“Wow,” Spencer said softly, his eyes taking in the cozy, well-thought-out setup. “This looks amazing.”

You smiled, pleased that he seemed to like it. “Thanks, I wanted to make sure we could just relax and have a good time,” you replied, motioning for him to come in and make himself comfortable. “No tricks, I promise.”

Spencer chuckled, the tension he’d been feeling all day melting away as he settled onto the couch. “I believe you,” he said, feeling more at ease than he had expected.

As you both sat down, the air was filled with a comfortable anticipation, the kind that comes with knowing you’re about to spend time with someone you genuinely enjoy being around. It was the start of what promised to be a wonderful evening, free from the worries of the past and full of the potential for a growing friendship.

After the first movie ended, the credits rolling across the screen, you and Spencer found yourselves lingering on the couch, the atmosphere between you light and airy, buoyed by the humor of the comedy you’d just watched. The laughter had done its job, breaking down any lingering tension, and now conversation flowed easily between you.

“So, what did you think of the movie?” you asked, turning to Spencer with a smile. You’d both been chuckling throughout, but you were curious to hear his thoughts now that it was over.

“It was great,” Spencer replied, a genuine grin on his face. “I don’t usually watch a lot of comedies, but that one was really funny. The timing, the dialogue… it was all really well done.” He seemed more relaxed than you’d ever seen him, his guard down as he leaned back into the couch.

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” you said, pleased that he had enjoyed it. “Sometimes you just need something light to unwind, you know?”

Spencer nodded in agreement. “Definitely. It’s nice to just… laugh, without thinking too much.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “I guess I don’t do that enough.”

You smiled softly at his admission, feeling a warmth in your chest at the idea that tonight was giving him something he didn’t often allow himself. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. We can do this more often if you want. Just hang out and relax.”

Spencer glanced over at you, his eyes softening. “I’d like that,” he said sincerely. “It’s nice to have someone to do this with.”

There was a comfortable silence between you for a moment, the kind that felt natural and unforced. You reached for the remote, ready to start another movie, but found yourself pausing, wanting to keep the conversation going a little longer.

“So, what’s one movie you think I should watch?” you asked, curious to hear his recommendation. “Something you really love.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up with excitement, the prospect of sharing one of his favorite films with you clearly appealing to him. “Oh, there are so many,” he said, his enthusiasm contagious. “But if I had to pick one… Have you ever seen *The Great Dictator* by Charlie Chaplin?”

You shook your head, intrigued by his choice. “No, I haven’t. Is it good?”

“It’s incredible,” Spencer said, his voice full of admiration. “It’s one of Chaplin’s best works—a satire that’s both funny and deeply poignant. It’s also one of the first films where he speaks, and the final speech… it’s just powerful.”

“Wow, sounds like a must-watch,” you said, genuinely interested. “We should definitely put that on our list for next time.”

“Absolutely,” Spencer agreed, smiling. “I think you’d really appreciate it.”

As the night wound down, the conversation between you and Spencer became more intimate, the two of you curled up on the couch, facing each other. The atmosphere was warm and comfortable, the barriers that had once stood between you now gone. The flickering glow of the TV cast soft shadows around the room, but your focus was entirely on each other, the outside world forgotten for the moment.

“So, Reid… are you seeing anyone?” you asked, your tone light but curious.

Spencer chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Hah, no, I’m not,” he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Are you?”

“I was,” you admitted, feeling a small flush rise to your cheeks. “But they were kind of flaky, not ready to commit.”

“That makes sense,” Spencer said, nodding thoughtfully. “Do you date a lot?”

You blushed a little deeper, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. “Not a lot,” you confessed. “I prefer to wait for a genuine connection.”

“Me too,” Spencer agreed, his voice soft, as if he were relieved to find that you shared the same sentiment.

“Have you dated recently?” you asked, your curiosity piqued. Spencer had always seemed so private, and you couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone special in his life.

“Not really,” he said, a small, almost sad smile crossing his face. “I… am kind of wary of dating.”

“Can I ask why? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you said gently, not wanting to push him but also wanting to understand more about him.

Spencer hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing whether or not to share. “Um… well, in school, girls would ask me on dates, and when I showed up, they’d make fun of me and take pictures,” he finally admitted, his voice quiet, the pain from those memories still lingering.

“Like my sister?” you asked softly, already suspecting the answer.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his eyes flickering with the old hurt. “That’s how she… yeah.”

“Oh, Spencer…” you breathed, your heart breaking for him all over again. You reached out instinctively, wanting to offer comfort, but you held back, respecting his space.

“Let’s not talk about it,” he said, his voice firmer this time, as if he needed to move past the subject for his own peace of mind.

“Of course,” you agreed immediately, not wanting to cause him any more pain.

There was a brief silence, one that felt heavy with unspoken words, but before you could change the topic, Spencer spoke again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “You’re prettier than her, you know.”

“What’s that?” you asked, not sure you had heard him correctly.

“Your sister,” Spencer clarified, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. “You’re prettier. And nicer, but that’s a given.”

You felt your cheeks flush deeply, not just from his words, but from the way he said them—with such earnestness, as if he’d been holding onto that thought for a while. The compliment caught you off guard, and you weren’t quite sure how to respond.

“Thank you,” you finally managed, your voice soft, touched by his words more than you could express. “That really means a lot. She… did not think so.”

Spencer’s expression softened even further, a mix of empathy and determination in his eyes. “I hope you know that you are,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm, as if he needed you to believe it as much as he did.

“Thank you, Spencer,” you replied, a warm smile spreading across your face. “You’re really pretty too.”

Spencer blinked in surprise, his cheeks tinging pink at the unexpected compliment. “Really?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief and curiosity.

“Mhm,” you nodded, your smile widening. “I’ve always thought so.”

The sincerity in your voice seemed to catch Spencer off guard, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t often that he received compliments like this—especially not from someone he was beginning to care about as much as he cared about you. He felt a warmth spread through him, a sense of validation that he hadn’t realized he needed.

“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice almost a whisper, but the smile that touched his lips was genuine and full of a newfound confidence. There was something deeply reassuring about your words, something that made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t felt before.

As the evening continued, the bond between you only deepened, both of you more relaxed and open with each other than you had been before. The compliments exchanged were just the beginning—a sign that what was growing between you was more than just a simple friendship. It was a connection built on mutual respect, admiration, and a shared understanding of each other’s pasts and insecurities.

—

“How was your date, pretty boy?” Derek teased, his voice carrying across the bullpen as he leaned against Spencer's desk with a wide grin.

“It wasn’t a date,” Spencer mumbled, his eyes firmly fixed on the stack of papers in front of him. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, and he desperately wished Derek would drop the subject.

“Reid had a date?” Rossi’s voice chimed in as he walked by, a look of amused surprise on his face.

“Yep! Friday night,” Derek laughed, clearly enjoying Spencer’s discomfort.

“Would you guys keep it down? I did not have a date,” Spencer hissed, his voice low and urgent as he glanced nervously toward the entrance. The last thing he wanted was for you to walk in and overhear them. The thought of you getting the wrong idea—or worse, feeling awkward about the night—made his stomach twist.

“Aw, come on, Reid,” Derek continued, not ready to let it go just yet. “You’re telling me you spent a whole evening at Y/N’s place, all cozy on the couch, and that wasn’t a date?”

Spencer sighed, his frustration mounting as he tried to formulate a response that would shut down the teasing. “We were just hanging out,” he insisted, though he couldn’t deny the warmth that crept into his voice at the memory of the evening. “We’re friends. That’s all.”

Derek exchanged a knowing look with Rossi, both of them clearly unconvinced but willing to let it slide—for now, at least. “Alright, alright,” Derek said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “If you say so, pretty boy.”

Rossi chuckled, giving Spencer a reassuring pat on the back. “Whatever it was, it’s good to see you two getting along,” he said, his tone more serious now.

Spencer nodded, grateful for the subtle shift in the conversation. “Thanks, Rossi,” he replied quietly, hoping the conversation was finally over.

Just as the tension began to ease, you walked through the door, a bright smile on your face as you entered the bullpen. Spencer’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly looked down at his work, praying that the others wouldn’t say anything more.

“Morning, everyone,” you greeted cheerfully, oblivious to the earlier exchange.

“Morning, Y/N,” Derek and Rossi replied in unison, their voices notably more innocent than they had been moments before.

Spencer dared a quick glance up at you, relieved to see that you hadn’t picked up on the previous teasing. “Morning,” he mumbled, trying to focus on the files in front of him.

You gave him a warm smile, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment, and he felt a sense of relief wash over him. Whatever Derek and Rossi thought, you knew the truth—and that was all that mattered.

—

“Hey, Y/N,” Alex greeted you with a warm smile as she approached your desk.

“Hey, Alex,” you replied, returning the smile. “How was your weekend?”

“It was relaxing, thanks for asking,” Alex said, her tone light and casual. “How about you? What’s up?”

Before you could answer, Alex’s eyes sparkled with a bit of mischief as she continued, “I heard you had a date this weekend.”

You blinked in surprise, momentarily thrown off by the comment. “Uh, nope. Just hung out with Reid and went to the farmers market,” you clarified, wondering where she had gotten the idea that it was anything more.

Alex raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the teasing. “It wasn’t a date with Reid?”

“No? Did he say it was?” you asked, genuinely curious now. Had Spencer mentioned something to someone that made them think it was a date?

Realizing she might have stirred something up unintentionally, Alex quickly backtracked. “I think I might have misspoke, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any confusion,” she said with an apologetic smile. “I’ll see you later, honey.”

“Bye, Alex,” you replied, still a bit puzzled by the exchange. As she walked away, you couldn’t help but replay the conversation in your head, wondering how such a simple evening of hanging out with Spencer had turned into a rumor about a date.

Shaking your head, you decided not to dwell on it too much. You knew the truth of the situation, and that was enough. Still, the idea of others seeing you and Spencer as something more than friends lingered in your mind, leaving you with curiosity and uncertainty as you returned to your work.

—

“Reid! You had a date with Y/N and didn’t think to tell me?? I thought we were close!” Penelope’s voice whined from across the breakroom, her tone a mix of hurt and playful exaggeration.

Spencer nearly choked on his coffee, his eyes widening in surprise as he turned to face her. “I did not have a date with Y/N!” he insisted, exasperation clear in his voice. “Did Derek tell you that? I swear, the gossip in this office travels at the speed of light.”

Penelope shook her head, her brightly colored glasses slipping slightly down her nose. “Oh, no, I heard it from JJ.”

“JJ?” Spencer repeated, even more bewildered. “I never told JJ anything about a date because there wasn’t a date!”

Penelope tilted her head, a curious look on her face. “Maybe Y/N did…”

Spencer sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck as he processed the situation. “No, Y/N wouldn’t have said it was a date because it wasn’t,” he reiterated, feeling like the whole thing was spiraling out of control.

Penelope’s expression softened as she realized how flustered Spencer was. “Okay, okay, calm down, boy genius,” she said gently, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “It’s just a bit of harmless teasing. But, honestly, with how everyone’s talking, it does kind of sound like a date, you know?”

Spencer groaned inwardly, knowing that trying to convince everyone otherwise was starting to feel like a losing battle. “It was just a casual hangout,” he emphasized, though even he could hear how unconvincing it sounded at this point.

Penelope studied him for a moment, her gaze more thoughtful now. “Okay, I believe you,” she finally said with a small smile. “But just so you know, if it ever turns into more than just a hangout… you can always come to me for advice.”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he offered her a shy smile in return. “Thanks, Penelope. I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that, Penelope gave him a quick hug before heading out of the breakroom, leaving Spencer standing there, still a little dazed by how quickly the rumor mill had turned a simple evening into a full-blown office saga. But as he finished his coffee, he couldn’t help but wonder—if so many people were seeing it as more than just a hangout, was there something there he hadn’t fully acknowledged yet?

—

You were focused on making copies in the copier room when you heard the door creak open behind you. Turning around, you were pleasantly surprised to see Spencer standing there.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a warm smile, happy to see him.

“Hi…” he replied, but his tone was hesitant, his usual shyness creeping back in.

Your smile faltered slightly. “Oh no, I thought we were past the cold shoulder,” you teased lightly, hoping to ease whatever tension he might be feeling.

Spencer’s expression softened, and he quickly shook his head. “Sorry, we are,” he assured you, a hint of a smile forming on his lips.

Before you could say anything else, the door swung open again, and JJ walked in, a playful grin on her face. “Hey, love birds,” she teased, clearly unaware of the moment she was interrupting.

Startled, you jumped, your hand slipping and slamming down on the copier lid. “Ow!” you yelped, pain shooting through your fingers as you quickly pulled your hand back.

JJ’s face immediately filled with concern as she rushed over. “Oh shoot, Y/N, I didn’t mean to scare you!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with guilt.

Spencer was at your side in an instant, his worry evident in his eyes. “Y/N! Are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern as he reached for your injured hand.

You winced, flexing your fingers slightly to test them. “No, I crushed my hand really hard,” you admitted, the throbbing pain making it difficult to think about anything else.

“Let’s go get you some ice,” Spencer said quickly, his hand gently guiding you toward the door.

JJ nodded, clearly feeling bad about what had happened. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity as she followed you both out of the room.

“It’s okay,” you reassured her, though the pain in your hand made it hard to keep the smile on your face. “It was just an accident.”

Spencer didn’t waste any time as he led you down the hall, his worry for you clear in his every movement. Once you reached the breakroom, he quickly grabbed a small bag of ice from the freezer, wrapping it in a towel before gently pressing it against your injured hand.

“Here,” he said softly, his voice full of concern as he held the ice in place. “This should help.”

You nodded gratefully, touched by how attentive he was being. “Thanks, Spencer,” you murmured, the pain starting to dull under the cool pressure of the ice.

In that moment, as Spencer held the ice gently against your hand, you looked up at him and couldn’t help but smile. The concern in his eyes, the tenderness in his touch—it was all so sweet, so genuine. For a second, it felt like the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of shared warmth. Anyone looking at you both in that moment would have seen it—the soft, unspoken affection that had been quietly growing between you.

Just then, the door to the breakroom swung open, and Aaron Hotchner walked in, his gaze immediately landing on the two of you. He stopped short, raising an eyebrow as he took in the scene. “Whoa, am I interrupting something?” he asked, a hint of teasing in his usually serious tone.

You and Spencer both snapped out of your little world, glancing at each other with wide eyes before quickly looking away, your faces flushing with embarrassment.

“No, uh, Y/N just hurt her hand,” Spencer stammered, his voice a little higher than usual as he struggled to explain. “I was just helping her with some ice.”

Aaron’s lips quirked into a small smile, clearly not entirely convinced by the rushed explanation. “I see,” he said, his tone even but with that subtle hint of amusement. “Well, it’s good to see you’re taking care of each other.”

You nodded, still blushing, but managed to muster a smile. “Thanks, Hotch. It’s nothing serious, just a little bump.”

“Glad to hear it,” Aaron replied, giving you both a knowing look before heading to the coffee machine. He didn’t say anything more, but the slight smirk on his face as he poured his coffee said plenty.

As he left the room, the silence between you and Spencer felt charged, the air thick with the unspoken feelings that neither of you were quite ready to fully acknowledge. But despite the awkwardness, there was also a warmth—an understanding that something was shifting between you, something neither of you could deny.

Finally, Spencer broke the silence, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “You should keep the ice on for a while,” he said, still holding the towel-wrapped bag against your hand.

“Yeah,” you agreed, your voice just as quiet, but your heart was still racing from the earlier moment. “Thanks, Spencer. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours for just a second before flicking away again. “Anytime,” he murmured, and despite the awkwardness, there was a small, genuine smile on his lips that made your heart flutter just a little more.

—

By the end of the week, the teasing from the team had mostly died down. The playful comments and knowing looks had given way to the usual routines of work, and everyone seemed to move on from the idea that you and Spencer were more than just friends. But despite the outward calm, Spencer couldn’t shake the thoughts that lingered in his mind.

All week, he found himself replaying the moments you had shared—the movie night, the quiet conversations, the way you had looked at him when he held the ice against your hand. It wasn’t just the teasing that had gotten under his skin; it was the way it made him question things he hadn’t fully considered before.

Spencer wasn’t someone who easily delved into matters of the heart. His mind was so often occupied with facts, statistics, and the complexities of human behavior that his own emotions sometimes felt like an unsolvable puzzle. But now, those emotions were harder to ignore. He kept thinking about the way your smile made his heart beat a little faster, or how he found comfort in your presence in a way that was different from anyone else.

He was still trying to wrap his head around what it all meant. Was it just friendship, or was there something more? And if there was more, what did that mean for both of you? Spencer wasn’t sure he had the answers, but he knew he couldn’t just brush it off as easily as he once might have.

As the week came to a close, he found himself wanting to talk to you more, to spend time with you, to explore whatever this was between you both. The thought of asking you out—actually asking you out—crossed his mind more than once, but every time he considered it, a wave of nerves would hit him, and he’d retreat back into his thoughts.

By Friday afternoon, he was still thinking about it as he sat at his desk, his work in front of him but his mind far from focused on the task at hand. The uncertainty gnawed at him, but there was also a flicker of excitement there, a small hope that maybe, just maybe, this could turn into something real.

—

As the workday came to an end, people began to gather around the elevators, eager to start their weekends. Spencer had been keeping an eye out for you, hoping to catch you before you left. He wanted to ask if you’d like to hang out again this weekend, the thought of spending more time with you making him feel both nervous and excited.

But just as he was about to approach you, another agent, Brant Ledgers, beat him to it. Spencer slowed his pace, watching the exchange from a distance, his heart sinking as Brant tried to turn on the charm.

“Hey, Agent,” Brant said, his voice smooth, leaning in a little too close for comfort.

“Um, hello,” you replied, taken aback by his sudden approach.

“You look beautiful today, and I couldn’t help but notice you smell divine. Did you intentionally pick my favorite scent?” Brant continued, his tone dripping with arrogance.

“What?” you asked, clearly uncomfortable with the way he was speaking to you.

Before the situation could escalate, the elevator arrived, and Spencer, feeling a pang of anxiety at the possibility of hearing you agree to another man’s advances, quickly stepped inside, not wanting to witness it.

But just as the doors were closing, he overheard Brant’s next move. “What do you say, baby? You and me, this weekend?” Brant asked, his tone filled with unwelcome confidence.

“Oh, um, no thank you. I appreciate the offer,” you replied, trying to be polite despite your discomfort.

“Why not?” Brant pressed, his voice taking on a sharper edge.

“I don’t have to give you a reason,” you said firmly, attempting to walk away.

But as you turned to leave, Brant grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. “Uh, yeah, you do,” he said, his grip tight and his tone menacing.

Just then, Derek Morgan, who had been nearby, stepped out of the bullpen and saw what was happening. “Whoa, what’s going on?” Derek’s voice boomed, his protective instincts kicking in immediately.

“We’re having a conversation, butt out,” Brant snapped, clearly irritated by Derek’s interference.

“Y/N, you good?” Derek asked, ignoring Brant entirely as he focused on you.

You shook your head, the fear and discomfort evident in your eyes.

“Let her go, Ledgers,” Derek commanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Brant hesitated for a moment, clearly not wanting to back down, but the look in Derek’s eyes told him this wasn’t a fight he was going to win. With a huff, Brant released your arm, glaring at Derek as he stepped back.

“You’re making a big mistake,” Brant muttered under his breath as he turned and walked away, but Derek paid him no mind.

As soon as Brant was gone, Derek turned to you, concern etched on his face. “You okay?” he asked gently.

You nodded, though your hand instinctively rubbed the spot on your arm where Brant had grabbed you. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks, Derek.”

“Anytime,” Derek said, his tone softening as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You need anything, you let me know, alright?”

“Will do,” you replied, giving him a grateful smile.

Derek walked with you toward the elevator, determined to make sure you got to your car safely. The incident with Ledgers had shaken you more than you wanted to admit, but having Derek by your side brought a sense of security.

When you reached the garage, you spotted Spencer standing near Derek’s car, clearly waiting for his ride home. His eyes lit up with concern the moment he saw you, and as Derek explained the situation, his expression shifted from concern to anger.

“Hey, Reid, I’m going to walk Y/N to her car, then I’ll be back, okay?” Derek said, his tone firm as he made sure Spencer understood the seriousness of the situation.

“Oh, sure, what’s going on?” Spencer asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Ledgers tried to grab at her. I want to make sure she gets out of here safe and sound,” Derek explained, his voice laced with protective determination.

“What?” Spencer’s voice boomed, the anger evident as he looked around, clearly ready to confront Ledgers himself. “Where is he?”

You quickly placed a hand on Spencer’s arm, trying to calm him down. “It’s okay, Spencer. Derek stepped in before he got too far.”

Spencer’s gaze softened as he looked at you, the concern in his eyes clear. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentler now, but still full of worry.

“Yeah,” you nodded, offering him a reassuring smile. “I’m okay.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to determine if you were really alright. “Do you want me to come over tonight? Keep you company?” he offered, his voice sincere and filled with a desire to help.

Your heart warmed at his offer, and you nodded, grateful for his support. “Thank you, Spencer, that sounds really nice. Do you just want to ride with me?” you asked, knowing it would be easier for both of you to go together.

“Yeah, I do,” Spencer replied without hesitation, clearly wanting to be there for you in any way he could.

Derek, who had been watching the exchange with a knowing smirk, couldn’t resist a little teasing. “Have fun on your second date, lovebirds,” he quipped, the smirk growing wider as he saw the blush rise on both your cheeks.

Spencer gave Derek a half-hearted glare, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed his true feelings. “It’s not a date,” he mumbled, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

Derek just chuckled, patting Spencer on the back. “Whatever you say, pretty boy. Just take care of her.”

With that, Spencer stayed close by your side, the silent protector you hadn’t known you needed until now. As you both got into your car, the earlier tension faded away, replaced by the comforting knowledge that, no matter what, you had each other’s backs.

—

As you and Spencer sat across from each other at your dining table, enjoying the simple comfort of dinner together, Spencer’s thoughts kept circling back to what had happened earlier. The guilt gnawed at him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he should have done something—anything—to protect you from Ledgers. He had been so close, yet he had let the situation unfold without intervening.

Finally, he couldn’t keep it in any longer. Setting his fork down, he looked at you with a seriousness that made you pause. “Y/N, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help,” he said, his voice laced with regret.

You looked up from your plate, surprised by the sudden apology. “What? Oh, Spencer, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

He shook his head, clearly not satisfied with that answer. “I should have waited for you,” he insisted, his guilt deepening. The thought of you being in a situation like that without him there to support you weighed heavily on his mind.

“You’re not required to wait for me,” you replied softly, trying to ease his worries. “It’s okay, really.”

Spencer hesitated, his eyes dropping to his plate as he wrestled with what he wanted to say next. He knew he had to be honest, even if it made him vulnerable. Taking a deep breath, he decided to take the plunge. “No, I know. I just…” He paused, gathering his courage before continuing. “I heard him asking you out, and I guess I didn’t want to stick around to hear you say yes.”

Your breath caught slightly at his admission, the pieces falling into place. It wasn’t just guilt driving Spencer’s apology—it was something deeper, something more personal. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the way he was trying to gauge your reaction.

“Spencer,” you began gently, reaching across the table to take his hand, “I would never have said yes to him. I’m not interested in Brant, and I’m certainly not interested in anyone who would treat me like that.”

He looked up at you then, the worry in his eyes softening as your words sank in. “I know, I just… I didn’t want to hear it, you know?” he admitted, his voice quiet but honest.

You squeezed his hand, offering him a reassuring smile. “I understand,” you said softly. “But I want you to know that you don’t have to worry about that. I can take care of myself.”

Spencer felt a pang of frustration as he realized his initial explanation hadn’t fully conveyed what he meant. He took a deep breath, deciding it was time to be as clear as possible, even if it made him nervous. “I know that, Y/N,” he began, his voice steady but filled with a new kind of vulnerability. “You’re more than capable of handling yourself—that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” you replied, your curiosity piqued. “What did you mean?”

Spencer hesitated for a brief moment, but then the words came out in a rush, fueled by the need to be honest with you. “I don’t want you to go out with someone else.”

You blinked, the weight of his words sinking in. “Someone else?”

“I want you to go out with me,” Spencer said, the vulnerability in his eyes now unmistakable. He had put everything out on the table, his feelings laid bare for you to see.

The realization hit you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Oh,” you managed, your voice soft as you absorbed what he was saying.

There was a moment of silence, and you could see the anxiety flickering in Spencer’s eyes as he waited for your response. His whole posture was tense, as if he was bracing himself for whatever came next.

“Do you… want that too?” Spencer asked, his voice quieter now, but filled with hope.

You bit your lip, feeling a smile spread across your face as your heart swelled with warmth. “I do,” you replied, the sincerity in your voice clear. The smile on your face widened as you saw the relief and joy that washed over Spencer’s features.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the atmosphere between you thick with unspoken feelings and the excitement of what was to come. Then, Spencer’s lips curled into a shy, genuine smile that mirrored your own.

“So, when should we have our third date?” Spencer asked, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

You laughed, delighted by this lighter, more confident side of him. “Hmm. Tomorrow?” you suggested, your heart fluttering at the thought of spending more time with him.

“Sounds perfect,” Spencer agreed, his smile widening.

“Spencer?” you asked softly, your tone turning more serious as you looked into his eyes.

“Yeah?” he responded, his voice gentle but filled with anticipation.

“Can I kiss you before our third date?” you asked, your heart pounding as the words left your lips.

Spencer’s smile turned even softer, his eyes lighting up with warmth and affection. “I’d be offended if you didn’t,” he replied, his voice a tender mix of humor and sincerity.

With that, you leaned in, closing the small distance between you. Spencer met you halfway, his eyes fluttering shut as your lips touched in a soft, sweet kiss. It was gentle at first, both of you savoring the moment, the culmination of everything that had been building between you.

When you finally pulled back, your faces still close, you both wore matching smiles, the connection between you now unmistakable and full of promise.

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iamespecter · 3 months ago

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Hi. I have new stuff to show. There are more coming as well, I just had to stop with three for now because it's so hot rn.

(tw for body horror)! | Digital Nightmares post

Now, when tackling the monster designs for this little crossover, I had to keep in mind what made the LN monsters so unique and uncanny in the first place. Which meant simple, but exaggerated, contorting body horror features. I had to not stray from original TADC concepts and try to embody them in these designs as best as possible, and made them extra grotesque. For Jax's case, he's become a farmer that also doubles as a scarecrow, something he asked the Doll (Ragatha) to do to him. His purple complexion is the result of this decision.

There's also the factor of making them have more muted colors as opposed to bright and saturated ones, to really make it hit home and the cast would fit in the universe of Little Nightmares (even though the environments are most definitely not gonna be the same as the games, since the monsters' environments reflect their occupation/role) Ragatha in this one is a Dollmaker whom had an unfortunate run in with the Entomologist (Kinger), resulting in stitches.

The designs may look simple enough, but make no mistake; I had a TON of trouble figuring out how to incorporate the TADC cast into a more monstrous versions of themselves because of just how vastly different the vibes between the two medias are. These designs underwent at least 2-3 tries before being finalized, because goddamn character design is my passion but does it kick ass sometimes Good ol' Kinger here is an Entomologist (Insect collector), who doesn't like his "focus" on his work and belongings being disturbed. He has two detached hands that roam around.

Obviously this isn't where it ends because I still have to do Gangle, Zooble, Gummigoo, Gloink Queen and Loolilalu (Maybe even Martha Mildenhall) so this may be a multiple part series.

Not to mention, Pomni and Caine's monster selves too because I'm not gonna ignore that, everyone becomes a monster in this and no one can stop meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

#tw body horror #tadc #little nightmares #the amazing digital circus #crossover #crossover fanart #crossover au #tadc au #tadc jax #tadc ragatha #tadc kinger #tadc fanart #digital art #sketch #concept art #character design #monster design

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stevieschrodinger · 5 months ago

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Part One Two

Fish guy is actually pretty much the same height as Steve when they’re sitting next to each other on the edge of the pool. Steve finally gave in, the heat of the day getting too much, and is trailing his feet in the water – fish guy doesn’t seem to care, but Steve still made sure to shower before he came out here. Next to Steve’s feet, the flat point of fish guys tail is also swirling in the water.

Fish guy loves pears. Steve’s sure they’re his new absolute favorite thing, and Steve’s watched him demolish six, cores and stalks and all, one right after the other.

He’s licking sticky juice from his fingers. Steve can’t see his eyes behind the shades; but he’s certain fish guy is watching him. Probably waiting to see if Steve will produce more food; fish guy has developed a hearty appetite, and he hasn’t put on much weight yet, but he’s not exactly what Steve would call emaciated either. A little over a week of regular food is obviously helping.

“Okay,” Steve sips on his beer, the points to himself, “Steve.”

“Steeee,” fish guy readily replies, nodding. Steve has no idea how or when he picked up the nodding and head shaking, but he uses both correctly, as far as Steve can tell, so Steve doesn’t argue.

Steve points at fish guy. Nothing, then a curious head tilt.

Steve’s starting to come to the conclusion that maybe fish guy just doesn’t have a name. Which, okay, Steve can kind of see that. He vaguely wonders if fish guy has any family; if he’d even want to go back to the Upside Down.

“Right. Should probably name you something vaguely fish related, no? Should we stay on brand?” Fish guy cocks his head the other way, like a bird. They’ve been sat here long enough that the sun has started to dry the ropey mess of hair that fish guy has; it gone kind of curly now, pinging up as it dries.

Steve really wants to comb it out, but he has no idea how fish guy will react; they’ve only just made it to sitting next to each other. Steve’s vaguely aware that combing someone else's hair is a bit...familiar, but he figures fish guy is kind of in his care or whatever.

Maybe they could build up to it.

“Fish,” Steve muses vaguely to himself, “fishing? Scales? Tails? Fishing, fisher? Fisher, Eddie, Eddie Fisher, that singer guy Mom really likes. What do you think, how does Eddie sound? Good as anything, right?”

Steve has no idea what’s going on behind the sunglasses, but fish guys head keeps cocking curiously to the side. Steve points to himself, “Steve.”

Fish guy, replies, “Steeee,” as expected, nodding.

Steve points to fish guy, and says, “Eddie.”

Fish guy points to himself cautiously, and quietly volunteers, “Edidie?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, nodding, “near enough, man. Eddie. Sounds good.”

“Good,” Eddie replies, startling Steve a bit because it’s clear as a bell.

“That’s right, good. Eddie.”

Eddie, very slowly so Steve can clearly see what he’s doing, reaches for Steve’s beer bottle. Steve’s instinct is to take it away, what if it’s poisonous or something? But then he figures Eddie’s been pretty clear about rejecting stuff so far if he doesn’t want it; plus he lived in the Upside Down for, presumably, years. If he can survive in a toxic environment like that, then surely a sip of beer won’t hurt him.

Eddie’s funny as he lifts it, sniffing cautiously before he works out the mechanics of fitting his lips around the neck of the bottle. He drinks. Seems to ponder it for a moment, and then drinks again, giving the bottle a mournful little shake when he realizes it’s empty. There wasn’t much left anyway; Steve figures he’ll be okay.

“Good,” Eddie says as he hands the bottle back, “inied.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “finished.”

“Why do you think he doesn’t have any gills?”

“You are definitely asking the wrong person here Robs,” Steve scatters another handful of peas into the water, watching as Eddie bobs along, collecting them one at a time and popping them into his mouth, “ask Dustin. He’ll produce a book. There’s literally always a book.”

“I don’t want to ask Dustin, he’ll actually try and explain it to me...I’d rather speculate emptily.”

“You do love a bit of empty speculation.”

Robin nods in agreement, “so, no gills, what do you think?”

“I think…” Steve ponders for a few seconds, filling up the dog bowl with the rest of the peas and floating that on the water, “that he can’t actually breathe underwater. He can just hold his breath for a fucking long time.”

“Nah. Boring. Plausible. Logical. Could be correct. I need something wild Steven.”

Steve thinks, but he doesn’t have much of an imagination, not like the kids or Robin. Clever people have good imaginations; Steve’s not one of them. But he does remember hearing something about bugs one time, “he breathes through his skin.”

“Fucking rad.”

“You have been spending way too much time with Argyle.”

“He has the good stuff Steve, supply and demand,” she says shrugging, and then, “why, you jealous?”

Steve huffs, rolling his eyes. Because no, of course he isn’t. Much. Maybe a tiny bit. But that’s okay, Robin should have other friends and stuff he guesses. She pokes him in the ribs and he flaps at her.

It just encourages her, obviously, so he tries to ignore her which just makes her ten times worse. She pokes more, and she just knows him too well, goes for his ticklish ribs and before Steve knows what’s happening he’s on his side, trying to curl up to get away, begging for mercy and shrieking with laughter, Robin hollering “admit your jealousy Steven. Say uncle! Say iiiiiiiiiit!!”

Robin disappears suddenly with a splash and yelp. She scrambles on the grass, trying to right herself from where she was shoved, Eddie suddenly flopped half on top of Steve, his tail twisting around Steve’s middle. Robin scrambles back a few more paces, Eddie’s arms locked at the elbow to hold his torso up off the ground as far as he can, claws raking into the grass.

He’s completely silent, and Steve, shocked, just sits for a moment, looking at the back of Eddie’s soaking head. The water’s dripping from his hair in rivulets down his pale back, his shoulder blades standing out sharply, the knobs of his spine visible where his back is held in a sharp arch.

He’s puffed up like an angry cat, Steve thinks absently.

He makes eye contact with Robin over Eddie’s shoulder, and she raises her eyebrows just a teeny tiny bit, ‘what the fuck?’

Steve shrugs, ‘I don’t know.’ Then tilts his head to the house a little, ‘give us a minute.’

Robin frowns spectacularly, ‘I’m not leaving you alone with the crazy fish guy’ or words to that effect, Steve guesses.

He nods toward the house again, trying to give his best, ‘I’ll be fine,’ vibes.

She looks hugely doubtful, but does move away, all slow and careful. Eddie hand walks to keep himself between between Steve and Robin, his tail clenching around Steve as he does.

“Eddie,” Steve’s hand hovers in the air for a few seconds before he bites the bullet and lets his hand rest on Eddie’s tail. It’s surprisingly smooth. Not soft exactly, but not hard. Doesn’t even feel scaly really, just smooth and warm it doesn’t look scaly either, now that Steve can have a close up look. It’s just...black. Matt black.

Actually now that he’s here, there are some funny little slits toward the tippy bit, they kind of look like they could be openings, but he doesn’t have time to investigate because Robin’s gone, so Eddie turns to him.

Steve has no clue what to say as Eddie’s tail slowly unwraps from his middle, “Eddie,” he starts, as Eddie slips back into the water.

“Steee.”

Steve just sighs, retrieving what are now Eddie’s sunglasses from where they’ve fallen by the edge of the lawn, “what am I going to do with you?”

Eddie tips his head, listening, but Steve doesn’t have anything else to say. At a loss, he heads inside to make sure Robin is okay.

A/N I know the time line doesn't work with Argyle since this happened after starcourt but lets just all agree to ignore that. There is no tag list for this work.

Part Four

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ficlet #ao3 author #pre steddie #mermeddie #mermaid eddie #upside down creature eddie

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pedroscowgirl · 2 months ago

Text

unexpected encounter

aaron hotchner x fem bau!reader

Warnings: smut! minors dni! p in v (wrap it up), creampie, power dynamics (he's your boss), teasing ? lmk if i forgot something (i prob did)

summary: You were off duty, enjoying a sunny afternoon in a tight, bodycon sundress that accentuated your curves, when you unexpectedly ran into your boss, Aaron Hotchner.

masterlist

a/n: i know it's fall but i just couldn't get this idea out of my head so here you go <3

(also it's 3 am rn and ill post my hugh story tomorrow for those who were waiting on it cuz now its getting a lil late)

The evening sun casts a warm glow as you step out of the café, its fading rays highlighting your sundress, a snug, bodycon fit that clings to your curves. It’s a casual weekend, far removed from the usual dark suits and crime scenes, and you feel a certain freedom in wearing something that shows off your figure. The dress is vibrant, hugging your waist and hips, and the neckline dips just enough to reveal a hint of cleavage, nothing too provocative, but more than enough to draw attention.

You’re not expecting to run into anyone from the BAU, especially not your boss, SSA Aaron Hotchner. But as fate would have it, there he is, standing near his car across the street, his gaze locking onto you as if he’s frozen in place.

You pause, surprised at seeing him, and the moment stretches out longer than you expect. Hotch, the ever-composed leader, is staring. Not just a glance, but a full-on, wide-eyed stare. His usual mask of professionalism cracks slightly as his eyes trace the lines of your dress, lingering briefly on the exposed skin at your neckline before snapping back to your face.

"Hotch?" you say, your voice light with disbelief, trying to break the tension. "I didn’t expect to see you here."

He clears his throat, his expression quickly shifting into something more familiar stoic, controlled. But there’s no mistaking the way his eyes flicker back to you, like he’s struggling to keep his gaze in check.

“I could say the same,” he replies, his voice a little more hoarse than usual. "I didn’t mean to stare."

You chuckle, trying to ease the tension. “It’s alright, I’m off-duty, you’re allowed to stare.” You give him a teasing smile, knowing full well how rare it is to see this side of him.

Hotch seems to struggle with how to respond, his usual sharpness dulled for a moment. He’s not used to seeing you like this, out of your professional attire, out of the controlled environment of the BAU. He’s not used to seeing you as…anything other than an agent.

“I... uh… you look nice,” he finally says, and you swear you catch a glimpse of something like admiration in his voice, something he’s clearly trying to suppress.

You smile again, feeling a bit of warmth rise to your cheeks. “Thank you, Hotch.”

For a moment, it’s just the two of you standing there, the sounds of the city buzzing around you. It’s strange, he’s your boss, after all. But here, outside the confines of the BAU, things feel different. There’s no case, no profile, no killer to chase. Just Aaron Hotchner, looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“Well,” he says after a pause, breaking the silence, “I should… get going.”

“Yeah,” you nod, not wanting the moment to end. “I’ll see you Monday.”

But as you turn to leave, you can feel his eyes on you for just a second longer than necessary, like he’s not quite ready to break the spell.

And neither are you.

Monday rolls around, and you’re back at the BAU, your professional self once again. You’re dressed in your usual work attire, nothing flashy, just your go-to blazer and slacks. But something feels off. Specifically, Hotch feels off.

You notice it almost immediately during the morning briefing. Normally, Hotch commands the room with his calm authority, making eye contact with every agent to ensure they’re on the same page. But today, he’s avoiding your gaze. Subtly, of course, but after working together for so long, you can tell. When he speaks, his voice is as firm as always, but there’s something different, an edge, a tension that wasn’t there before.

He keeps the briefing short, his eyes barely lingering on you as he assigns the team to tasks for the case. The second it’s over, he quickly retreats to his office, leaving the rest of the team exchanging confused glances.

“What’s with him?” you whisper to JJ, leaning in as everyone gathers their files.

JJ shrugs. “I have no idea. He’s been quiet all morning.”

Emily slides in next to you, overhearing the conversation. “Did you do something to piss him off?” she teases, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

You roll your eyes but feel your stomach flip, wondering if you should tell them what happened over the weekend. You and Hotch didn’t do anything wrong, but there was definitely a moment. One you haven’t been able to stop thinking about either.

“I didn’t… exactly piss him off,” you say, your voice lowering. JJ and Emily exchange glances, their interest piqued.

“Spill,” Emily demands, her tone playful but insistent.

You sigh, looking around to make sure no one else is within earshot. “I saw Hotch over the weekend. Outside of work. I was, uh, wearing a dress.”

JJ raises her brows. “Okay…?”

“A bodycon sundress,” you clarify, feeling your cheeks heat up. “And it was… well, more revealing than what I normally wear around here.”

Emily leans back, clearly enjoying this. “So, you’re telling me Hotch saw you looking all hot and couldn’t handle it?”

You shrug, a small smile creeping onto your face. “I don’t know about that, but he definitely stared. I mean, he was stunned. He couldn’t even look away for a minute.”

JJ’s eyes widen in amusement. “No way. The Aaron Hotchner showed an expression on his face?”

“Exactly!” you say, laughing now that you’re sharing it with them. “I didn’t think much of it, but today? He’s been acting weird. It’s like he can’t even look at me.”

Emily grins. “You broke Hotch’s brain. Well done.”

JJ chuckles softly. “He’s probably just not used to seeing you like that, out of work mode. It might’ve caught him off guard.”

“Off guard is an understatement,” you murmur, thinking back to how he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “But it’s not like anything happened. It was just… a moment.”

“A moment that Hotch clearly can’t stop thinking about,” Emily adds. “You’ve thrown him off his game, and honestly? I love it.”

JJ gives you a more reassuring smile. “I’m sure he’ll get over it. It’s Hotch. He’s probably just trying to re-center himself. Maybe he’s worried about crossing any lines.”

You nod, but part of you wonders if there’s more to it. The way he looked at you—it wasn’t just surprise. There was something deeper, something he clearly didn’t know how to handle.

“Well,” Emily says, grabbing her tablet, “this should be fun to watch. Let’s see how long it takes for him to figure out how to act normal around you again.”

You laugh, but internally, you feel that same curiosity rising. What was Hotch thinking when he saw you? And why does it feel like it’s affected him this much?

The rest of the day drags on, but you can’t shake the tension between you and Hotch. Every time you walk by his office or catch a glimpse of him from across the bullpen, there’s this undercurrent, something simmering beneath the surface. You try to focus on the case, to act as if nothing happened, but it’s impossible to ignore the way his presence feels so much heavier today.

By mid-afternoon, you’ve had enough. You need clarity, or at least to know that this awkwardness isn’t all in your head. So, when you notice Hotch heading for the break room, you seize the opportunity.

You walk in just after him, the door swinging shut softly behind you. He’s standing by the coffee machine, his back to you, shoulders a little more tense than usual. You take a breath before speaking.

“Hotch?”

He turns slowly, his eyes meeting yours, and for a second, there’s that flash of something, surprise, maybe even desire, before he quickly masks it with his usual professionalism.

“Agent” he says, the formality of your title jarring. His voice is cool, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s holding something back.

You step closer, trying to keep your tone casual. “I’ve noticed you’ve been… distant today.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow, but there’s a tightness in his jaw. “I’ve been focused on the case. Nothing more.”

You cross your arms, feeling a mix of frustration and something more personal. “Really? Because it feels like you’re avoiding me.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looks away for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before his eyes return to yours. “I’m not avoiding you. I just—” He pauses, his expression faltering for the briefest moment. “I want to maintain professionalism, that’s all.”

You blink, caught off guard by the admission. “Is this about Saturday?”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, confirmation, maybe. He looks almost uncomfortable now, like he’s been caught in something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I didn’t expect to see you outside of work,” he says carefully, his voice a little quieter. “And… I wasn’t prepared for how you looked.”

You feel a warmth rising in your chest, knowing now that you weren’t imagining things. “It was just a dress, Hotch.”

He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, his hands resting on the counter behind him as if he needs the support. “It wasn’t just the dress. It was…” He hesitates again, as if he’s struggling with how much to admit. “It was seeing you outside of this job. Seeing you as… more than just my agent.”

Your breath catches slightly at his words. More than just an agent? You hadn’t expected him to be this honest, to admit that there was something more to his reaction.

“And that bothers you?” you ask, your voice softer now.

“It complicates things,” he says, his gaze finally softening. “We work together. I’m your superior. I have to maintain a level of professionalism, not just for me, but for you, too.”

You step a little closer, feeling a pull between the two of you that you can’t quite explain. “But it’s not just about professionalism, is it?”

Hotch’s eyes search yours, and for the first time, you see the conflict written all over his face. “No, it’s not,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The air feels thick with everything unspoken, everything hovering just beneath the surface. You can feel the distance between you narrowing, both physically and emotionally, and it’s like a magnet pulling you closer.

“I don’t want this to affect our work,” he finally says, breaking the silence. But the way he’s looking at you now, his eyes soft, his expression vulnerable, makes you wonder if he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

“It won’t,” you assure him, your voice steady. “We’re both professionals. But we’re also human.”

Hotch exhales softly, his posture relaxing ever so slightly, like the weight of his inner struggle is easing. He still looks conflicted, but there’s a shift in his demeanor, a sense that maybe he’s not entirely ready to let this go, either.

Before either of you can say anything more, the door to the break room opens, and you both immediately step back into your professional roles as JJ walks in, oblivious to the charged moment she’s interrupted.

“Hey,” she says casually, reaching for the coffee pot. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply quickly, exchanging a brief glance with Hotch. “We’re fine.”

JJ looks between the two of you but doesn’t press further. “Good, because we’ve got a new lead on the case. Hotch, we need you in the conference room.”

Hotch gives you one last look before nodding to JJ. “I’ll be right there.”

It’s a warm, sunny afternoon when you arrive at the park for a team’s casual get-together, organized by Garcia, who insisted everyone needed some downtime outside the walls of the BAU. Laughter and conversation fill the air as the team relaxes, scattered across picnic tables and blankets.

You’re wearing that sundress again, the one that hugs your curves, the one that made Hotch’s breath catch in his throat the last time he saw you. It’s a bodycon dress that highlights your figure, with just enough of a neckline to show off a hint of cleavage, and when you walk up to the group, you immediately feel his eyes on you.

Aaron stands across the grassy clearing, wearing a simple polo and jeans that fit him perfectly. The dark material contrasts with the sunlit background, casting shadows across the strong lines of his jaw and the slope of his neck. He’s looking at you, his expression intense, his thoughts seemingly far away.

He’s quiet—Hotch always is during these gatherings—but you know what’s on his mind. It’s the same thing that’s been lingering between the two of you for days, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension. His eyes flicker from your face to your body, lingering on the dress, and you can see his jaw tighten. The rest of the team is laughing, eating, and enjoying the afternoon, oblivious to the tension that’s simmering just beneath the surface.

As you settle down near the picnic table, chatting with JJ and Emily, you can feel Hotch’s gaze like a physical touch. He tries to be subtle, to act like nothing is out of the ordinary, but you catch him glancing at you again and again. Each time, his eyes darken with desire, his body language betraying the thoughts racing through his mind.

You shift slightly, adjusting the hem of your dress, and you can almost feel the way his focus sharpens. Every movement you make seems to affect him, his grip tightening around his coffee cup, his posture stiffening ever so slightly. He’s trying to keep it together, trying to maintain that professional composure, but you can see him slipping.

From across the table, Garcia rambles about some new tech gadget she’s discovered, and Reid chimes in with his usual barrage of facts. But your mind is on Hotch, and the way his gaze hasn’t left you for more than a few seconds. You glance up, meeting his eyes from across the distance, and the heat between you is undeniable.

He looks away quickly, but you catch the way his fingers clench slightly into a fist before he releases them, exhaling as if to steady himself. You bite your lip, feeling a surge of confidence as you decide to tease him, leaning forward a little more as you laugh at something Emily says. You know exactly what you’re doing.

Hotch’s eyes flash again, and for a moment, you think he’s going to snap. His hand flexes against his thigh, and his gaze grows even darker, filled with barely-contained need. He wants to touch you, he needs to, you can see it in the way he shifts in his seat, the tension rolling off him in waves. But he can’t. Not here. Not in front of the team.

The rest of the group is oblivious to the magnetic pull between you two, but you know. And Hotch knows. His restraint is fraying at the edges, his focus divided between trying to keep up the pretense of professionalism and the urge to take you somewhere more private.

You catch his eye again, holding his gaze just a moment longer than before, and you swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch, the smallest hint of a smile, or maybe something more primal. His control is slipping, and he’s fighting it with everything he has.

As the afternoon stretches on, the laughter and casual conversation continue, but all you can think about is what’s going to happen when this gathering ends. When it’s just the two of you. When he doesn’t have to hold back anymore.

And by the way Hotch keeps looking at you, his thoughts following every move you make, you know it’s only a matter of time.

As you pack up your things, you notice him lingering by his car, his eyes still on you, and your heart skips a beat when he makes his way over to you.

"Need a ride home?" he asks, his voice smooth but heavy with something more.

You nod, sensing that this is the moment you’ve both been waiting for. There’s an undercurrent in his words, a promise of something more than just a simple ride.

The drive to your place is thick with tension, the kind that makes the air feel heavier, charged with anticipation. Neither of you speaks much. There’s no need to, everything has already been said in the heated looks exchanged back at the picnic, in the way his hand brushed your lower back for just a second too long as he led you to his car. It’s there in the way he’s gripping the steering wheel now, his knuckles white as he tries to keep control, though you can tell that his thoughts are anything but steady.

You glance at him from the passenger seat, noticing the way his jaw is clenched, the tendons in his neck tight as he stares at the road. His usual cool, collected demeanor is crumbling, and you know exactly what’s on his mind. You in that dress. The way he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since he saw you at the park. The way you’ve been teasing him all afternoon, letting your fingers linger on his arm when you spoke, leaning just a bit closer to him than usual.

It’s like a silent game between the two of you—one that’s about to reach its breaking point.

The second the car pulls into your driveway, you can feel his restraint finally snap. The engine is barely off before Hotch is out of the car, quickly making his way around to your side. He opens the door for you, but as you step out, you can see the way his eyes are filled with a hunger that’s only grown stronger throughout the day. His hand is on your lower back again, guiding you up the steps to your door, but this time, his touch lingers. You can feel the heat of his hand through the thin fabric of your dress, and it sends a thrill through you.

You unlock the door with trembling fingers, your heart racing, knowing what’s about to happen. You step inside, and the second the door closes behind him, it’s like a dam breaks.

Hotch’s hands are on you before you even have time to turn around. His fingers curl around your waist, pulling you back against him as his mouth finds your neck. His lips are hot and urgent against your skin, and you can feel the rough stubble of his jaw scraping lightly as he kisses along the curve of your throat. His breath is ragged, and you can feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he growls against your ear, his voice low and rough, filled with barely-contained need. His hands slide up your sides, his fingers tracing the outline of your dress, and the way he’s touching you, like he can’t get enough, makes your body heat up instantly. “Ever since I saw you in that damn dress…”

You gasp as his hands tighten on your waist, pulling you even closer, his hips pressing against you in a way that leaves no doubt about how badly he wants you. His mouth moves along your neck, hot and insistent, as his fingers slip beneath the fabric of your dress, hiking it up slightly so he can grip your bare skin.

“Aaron…” you breathe, your voice catching as you tilt your head to give him more access. Your body is already reacting to his touch, your pulse quickening, heat pooling in your belly. You want him just as badly, have been wanting him since the moment he first laid eyes on you in this dress.

You barely make it to the kitchen before Hotch lifts you up, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he sets you on the counter with ease. The cool surface contrasts with the heat of his body pressing against you, and you gasp at the sensation. His hands are everywhere now, on your thighs, sliding up to your hips, then gripping your waist as he pulls you even closer to the edge of the counter.

He kisses you hard, his lips crashing against yours with a need that makes your head spin. It’s a kiss filled with everything he’s been holding back, all the tension from the past week finally spilling over. You kiss him back just as desperately, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands continue to explore your body.

His fingers slide under the hem of your dress, hiking it up higher as his hands trace the curve of your thighs. The way he’s touching you is possessive, almost frantic, like he can’t get close enough. He breaks the kiss for just a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. His hands slide up your sides, brushing over the neckline of your dress. “This dress… you have no idea what it does to me.”

You bite your lip, your heart racing as you look into his eyes, dark with need. “I wore it for you,” you admit softly, your voice breathless. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it.”

Hotch groans softly "fuck you're such a slut for me" his hands tightening on your waist as he kisses you again, slower this time, but no less intense. "fuck yes aaron I am" you replied and his hands roam over your body, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress to touch your bare skin. You arch into his touch, your body responding to him in a way that makes it impossible to think about anything else.

One of your straps slips from your shoulder, and in an instant, Hotch freezes. His breath catches as he pulls back slightly, his eyes fixed on your exposed skin. The strap falls, and your breast is revealed to him. For a moment, he just stares, his eyes darkening even more as he takes you in.

“God…” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper. His hands move to your shoulders, gently pushing the strap further down until your dress is hanging loosely off one side. His eyes flicker up to yours, filled with a mix of awe and raw desire. “You’re so beautiful.”

He leans down, his lips brushing softly over your exposed skin, kissing along the curve of your breast with a tenderness that makes your breath hitch. But the tenderness doesn’t last long, soon, his kisses grow more urgent, more desperate, as his hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin.

You moan softly, your head falling back as his mouth finds your nipple, his tongue swirling around it before he sucks gently, sending a surge of heat straight to your core. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter as he continues his assault on your senses, his lips and hands everywhere at once.

“I can’t… stop,” he groans against your skin, his voice rough and filled with desire. “I’ve wanted this for so long…”

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping you tightly as he pulls you against him, his erection pressing firmly between your legs. You gasp at the sensation, your hands gripping his shoulders as he moves against you, his breath hot and ragged in your ear.

“I need you,” he murmurs, his voice low and desperate. “Right now.”

You nod, breathless, as you pull him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist as he lifts you slightly off the counter. His hands slide under your dress, pulling it up higher as he presses himself against you and takes off your underwear, his lips find yours in a heated kiss that leaves you both gasping for air.

When he finally enters you, it’s like everything else fades away. The world outside, the past week of stolen glances and restrained touches, it all falls away as he moves inside you. His pace is slow at first, savoring the way you feel wrapped around him, his lips brushing over your skin with every thrust.

You arch against him, your hands gripping his back as he moves faster, his control slipping as the need between you builds. His mouth is on your neck, your shoulder, your breasts everywhere, as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

The strap of your dress falls completely now, both your breasts exposed to him, and Hotch loses it. His hands cup your breasts again, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as he thrusts harder, deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, his voice filled with awe and desire. “Everything about you… I can’t get enough.”

You moan his name, your body trembling as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. The way he moves inside you, the way he touches you, it’s all too much. You feel the tension coiling in your belly, ready to snap at any moment.

And then, with one final thrust, you’re falling. You cry out, your body arching against him as pleasure crashes over you in waves. Hotch follows seconds later, groaning your name as he shudders, his body tensing as he finds his release.

For a moment, neither of you moves, your bodies still connected, your breaths mingling as you come down from the high of it all. Then, slowly, Hotch pulls back slightly, his hands still holding you close as he looks into your eyes, his expression softer now, filled with something more than just desire.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice full of awe as he brushes a stray hair from your face. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to keep my hands off you after this.”

You smile, breathless, as you lean in to kiss him again, slow and deep, savoring the moment. “Then don’t,” you whisper against his lips, and the way he kisses you in return tells you that he has no intention of letting go anytime soon.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness @devilslittlehelper

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds hotch #criminal minds #hotchner smut

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101maverick · 5 months ago

Note

Damian Wayne Ah Ghul with a reader who is super shy? Like she meets his family and she's practically hiding behind Damian? No pressure, but I'm just a naturally shy person myself.

A/n: I've been thinking of a meeting like this for a while now! tho in my daydreams the reader is a lot more bubbly and stuff, but this one is super fun too! I think I might write them both out :) When it comes to Damian I tend to envision him around his canon age (12ish I think?) because it gives me agency to explore puppy love and I find it so cute! Plus I'm a sucker for school shenanigans hehe🤭 Here Damian is around 15-16 :) Hope you enjoy!! If you like my work, please consider reblogging and checking out my other works through the master list in my pinned post<3

Word count: 1642

Meeting the Family

Your hands are clammy.

Not even overtly so, just enough to make you uncomfortable, to get that unbearable out-of-place sensation one always gets when something's slightly wrong and it feels like life has decided to point a spotlight to it.

You nervously adjust your dress' skirt, fiddling with the hem to make sure it sat at just the right height. You had spent an embarrassing amount of time picking it out, having Damian come by your house earlier than necessary to make sure your choice was appropriate for this occasion, along with your hair and what little makeup you had decided to put on.

He had assured you countless times that you 'could never be anything less than far above standard' , and while that did put you at ease you still have to do your best to relax as you build up the courage to enter the house, Damian waiting by your side.

You and Damian had started 'dating' around three months ago now, and this was your first time meeting his family.

Whenever you think back to how he proposed to you a chuckle curls your lips upward, remembering how out of your depth you felt as he announced his intent of 'courting' you while he held a baby kitten out to you.

The memory loosens you up a bit, and you nod to Damian, who rings the doorbell. He's been holding your hand the whole time, something you find extremely sweet. He gives your hand a squeeze.

Sooner than you'd like, the door opens and you are greeted by the Wayne family's butler, who your boyfriend had informed you is basically like a grandfather figure for them.

He’s an older man, standing tall in a prim and creaseless suit despite his age. His eyes crinkle as the corners of his mouth uptick just the slightest bit, remaining composed as he greets you two.

“Ah, Master Damian, you have finally returned with our guest I see.” He says, looking at your boyfriend. He then turns to you. “My name is Alfred Pennyworth. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, miss…” he trails off.

You can feel your cheeks burn up, and your tongue tangles up as you haste to give him your name. You try to downplay the stutter as much as you can, and rush through the rest of greetings and pleasantries. “It is very nice to meet you as well, mr. Pennyworth.”

Mr. Pennyworth just nods curtly and opens the door wider, making space for you and Damian to enter. "I am glad, miss. Please, follow me to the sitting room." After a nod from Damian, he turns around and starts walking down the hallway to the left of the grand staircase the Manor's foyer opens up to.

The ceiling is extremely tall in this part of the house, two stories high at the very least. The ancient mahogany of the staircase is intricately carved, and the deep, rich blue-green carpet covering the steps gives the entire ensemble a much more regal look, with the way it matches the curtains that are pulled apart to let in all the midday light from the six-feet tall arch windows. It feels way too regal for someone like you.

Damian, on the other hand, looks completely in his element. Not only is this his house, he just fits in with this sort of environment, this regal, sophisticated, high-class one. The blue-green of the curtains and carpets makes the emerald of his eyes pop, and the dark mahogany compliments his tanned skin, reflecting the golden glow of the sun.

Looking at him, you feel a bit surer of yourself, and you straighten your shoulders to match his stance. You're just meeting his family. You can do this.

Mr. Pennyworth leads you to the sitting room. Damian's entire family is lounging there, the majority sitting up while a few rest on the plush couches and chairs. The moment you step foot in the doorway, all conversation stops and all eyes turn toward you.

You can't do this.

————————————

Each of the Wayne family members are here, it seems, and the more you stand there the more you want to crawl out of your skin.

All of these people have been gathered here today for a family lunch because you have come over, and dang if that doesn't make you feel like the inconvenience of the year.

Only a fool doesn't know about how important each of them is, and you certainly aren't one.

Richard "Dick" Grayson, world-class acrobat and notorious heartthrob since his teens, and he surely has better places to be today than here. Keeping up with all of his connections is basically a full-time job, with how Gotham socialites are.

Jason Todd, recently come back from his years-long trip around the world, could be playing golf with the Prince of England right now instead of meeting his youngest brother's high-school girlfriend.

Timothy Drake, at nineteen is C.E.O. of Drake Industries and Bruce Wayne's representative for Wayne Enterprises, right now he could be closing billion-dollar business deals.

Duke Thomas, had graduated from high school at sixteen and at eighteen is in the most prestigious chemistry program in the Continent, he could be studying for the cure of cancer right now.

Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne's only daughter and an extremely elusive person for the media, you're sure she'd much rather a virtual stranger wasn't snooping around in her family's home.

There are also two other people, a red-haired woman that looks to be around Dick Grayson's age and a blonde girl around nineteen.

And, of course, there's Bruce Wayne in the flesh. Billionaire, philanthrope, C.E.O. of Wayne Enterprises, arguably the most important person in Gotham and certainly the richest person in New Jersey. One of his charities is always in sight every time you turn a corner on the street in Gotham Proper, his company's name is plastered on almost every single electronically device you can find, and his name is always in the mouth of the press, making headlines day in-day out.

Oh Gosh, you can already imagine it. 'Lowly peasants thinks she can date his son, Brucie Wayne obliterates her and her dynasty'.

Before you know it, your breathing has become laboured and you're standing pressed to Damian's side, trying to fuse with his shadow.

You have no idea how you're gonna hold a conversation with all of these people.

Damian, bless him, saves you. "If you all could quit ogling my beloved like imbeciles, we could go on with introductions." His chin is held up high, and he takes turns staring into each of his family members' eyes, as if daring them to object. With the way he's standing, his body almost covers you, giving you a blanket of security that allows you to relax.

The rest of the room's occupants regain their composure, and Mr. Wayne breaks out into a blinding smile, coming up to you.

"Pardon me! We just hadn't heard you coming down the hallway is all. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Mr. Wayne holds out his hand, and you shake it. His grip is gentle. "Come in, please, make yourself comfortable."

Damian guides you to a couch next to which is a window. The rays of sun catch in his dark hair, reflecting almost-blue. He looks at you, and as he does so you relax. Damian may rarely show it but he has an extremely expressive face, and you have learned to read it.

Right now you read sureness in his jaw, calmness in the set of his brow and something warm and reassuring in the slightest widening of his eyes, the one that happens specifically when e tilts his head downwards to fix his gaze better in yours.

"I must admit I've been waiting for this moment for a good while, I was very curious. Damian has talked a lot about you."

Your eyebrows raise. You start fidgeting with Damian's hand in your lap. "Oh, he-he has?" It comes out as a mumble. You'd beat yourself up over it in normal circumstances but as it stands, you're just glad you are talking at all.

This thought is overshadowed by an eruption of laughter from further inside the room.

"Oh yes he has, the brat has been talking our ears off all day for months! By how he talks, he thinks you've hung the moon and the stars in the night sky." A cackle follows the sentence. You're pretty sure your cheeks are on fire.

Next to you, you notice the tips of Damian's ears turn darker. "Quit your complaining, Todd. It is not my fault if everything you do is subpar compared to her every action."

"Da-Damian!" You whisper-yell next to him, "You can't just say that!"

"Oh, don't worry," Pipes up someone from a chair. You recognise him as Timothy Drake. "Seeing as you've put up with him for months, I think we all believe it. It takes the patience of a saint to do that." He says, a slight smirk on his face.

The rising of cackles in the air and the indignant squawk from Damian pull a little giggle from you, and you squeeze Damian's hand while Dick Grayson placates him.

Mr. Pennyworth, who had disappeared down the hallway after you had reached the sitting room, reappears at the entrance. 1679

“Masters, Misses, the lunch is ready. If you may follow me to the dining room…”

“Thank you Alfred.” Says Mr. Wayne, and after a curt nod from the butler everyone files out of the sitting room.

As you take your place next to Damian at the dining table, listening to Damian and Timothy bicker, you feel more at ease than you ever hoped of feeling while waiting on the front steps.

Your hand is warm in Damian’s still.

————————————

A/n: I wish I had been able to put more Damian/Reader interaction in this but in order for it to work in my vision of their eventual relationship I need them to be alone so unfortunately it couldn't happen for this pic :( I do have more Damian x Reader requests in my inbox tho so there's a high chance I'll be able to expand on it! Plus I'm considering making a list of head canons for Damian and Reader's relationship >:)

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #robin #dc robin #bruce wayne #brucie wayne #jason todd #tim drake #timothy drake #dick grayson #cassandra clare #duke thomas #alfred pennyworth #dc #dcugifs #dc universe #damian wayne fanfiction #maverick’s prompt fill

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lune-redd · 7 months ago

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Hello, it's Lelly.

As you may know, I have recently deactivated my Twitter account. A lot of people are speculating I left because I was being harassed for drawing my older depiction of Bubbles from The Powerpuff Girls as chubby. However... that's not the direct reason I left. In fact, I didn't really see much of the comments of folks on there getting riled up about it as I muted the tweet the morning I saw that it blew up. I was only merely aware of it all by being told about it from friends, with there being some other users on the site making other really fuckin' stupid comments about my art.

This does however lead into why I actually left Twitter, and it's because of Twitter's overall toxic nature. Overtime, I've really gotten sick of how absolutely revolting Twitter has become to experience. The site is basically built around dunk culture and doom scrolling. You know that one tweet of someone making an example of Twitter's utter stupidity by using pancakes and waffles as an example?

I bring this up because I think this fits my point about how Twitter has this thing of assuming the absolute worst about the most insignificant things, even the most innocuous. The "Bubbles obesity" comments weren't the only stupid comments that came out of that post. I also got a quote retweet that I was "forcefully feminizing Buttercup", even though the whole fucking point of that drawing was to depict a usually tough character in an unusual situation for her. I have also gotten stupid comments on other drawings though, like the one where Mitch pushes Buttercup down for trying to look taller than she is and I got called a misogynist for it, though I'm pretty sure that one was bait (Twitter users have a tough time figuring out what is and isn't bait, it's dunk culture that I'm about to talk about really doesn't help this).

The site's dunk culture is also really fuckin' bad. Quote retweets are a disease, as unlike Tumblr's reblog comments, quote retweets count as a different post. Someone disagrees with you? Show your audience how stupid they are on your page! Hey, are you trying not to see the most abhorrent racist statement imaginable? Well TOO BAD FUCK YOU here's a le epic own giving them all the attention in the world even though one of the most common internet rules are DON'T FEED THE FUCKIN' TROLLS YOU IDIOT. Oh hey, are you trying to explain how you prefer a certain artistic choice over another in something you like? Well you're a deranged ungrateful whiny nitpicker, get owned!

I've seen so many of my friends be belittled for simply discussing their artistic preferences of things they're passionate about. I had a friend who said he prefers the original Crash Bandicoot design over his redesigned look in Crash 4, and had legitimate reasons for why he felt that way (even if he didn't really explain them clearly), and he got dunked for it which made me mad. I'm sick and tired of it all. The reaction to my art is only a mere example of the shit I despise about that site.

I had been planning on leaving Twitter for quite some time, as my follower count was growing nearer and nearer to 10K. I had planned on leaving after 10K followers because that amount was wayyyy too fuckin big for me to handle. I'm a young and growing lad, and I felt it wouldn't be good for my mental sanity to handle all that, so I dipped. The amount of attention I've been getting is simultaneously both wonderful and extremely overwhelming. Even the explosion of new followers and asks on here is quite the load! (Seriously, calm the fuck down y'all) I am very grateful for all the supportive asks I've gotten even though I won't be able to answer them all, thank you all so very much.

tl;dr I didn't leave Twitter because I was being harassed or anything, but rather because of the site's overall toxic and belittling environment.

Adios.

-Lelly

#if youre confused by my wording im so sorry i dont often write long paragraphs like this in my spare time

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celestemona · 8 months ago

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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒

and how they deal with their children and domestic life. part ii.

pairing: dad & husband! cyno, kaveh, alhaitham x fem! reader

cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, domesticity, fluff. pregnant reader is mentioned to introductions but not too elaborated. not beta read. a bit longer than the previous ones.

kazuha’s part | part. i

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

Cyno

If there was something that the General Mahamatra valued beyond justice and absolute truth, it’d be the loyalty of those around him without asking for anything in return. Cyno could count on both hands the number of people he’d risk his life to or who’d have his back, and to be honest, there weren't many of them. Thus, the passing of the years only solidified this philosophy, confirming that trust wasn’t something to be given, but earned — it being the reason why he only kept a certain number of people close to him.

However, this belief had also shown Cyno that some priorities were greater than others, and ensuring your happiness and safety became the main one of them all. Especially when you were also the one carrying his babies.

Your pregnancy announcement was unexpected, but the change in your husband's personality wasn’t. As your belly grew, you could notice that Cyno became a little more clingy with you, enjoying being by your side or placing his warm hands on it to feel his children's kicks. Though, the mahamatra also couldn't help but be more overprotective or bossy towards you, traits that seemed to have intensified over the months.

Cyno liked to think that his overprotectiveness was justified since not only had he become a first-time father but of twins. His bossy acts weren’t for nothing either. It was just because your husband knew you and your impulsiveness very well, so the slightest thought of the risks that you could put yourself out there of your own free will stressed him out already.

And this last one you seemed to do on purpose to test him since you had put yourself in critical situations more times than he wished to count.

So, to ease his worries and keep an eye on you, the decision to temporarily settle in Vila Aaru was mutually agreed, providing Cyno with a momentary sense of peace knowing that his very pregnant wife would be surrounded by competent and trustworthy people. And then, his children could be born in a comfortable and safe environment.

The decision couldn't have been the best because a few months later and just a few minutes apart, Aryan and Isaar were born on a cold night.

The leader of the Matras still can remember that it was when he was returning to the village from a patrol when he was greeted first by your painful screams and then by the sight of your sweaty and tearful figure. Your husband didn't think twice before taking Candace's place behind your back to give you the support you needed, sharing his strength with you and whispering comforting words in your ear.

Internally, Cyno felt more than terrified for this new stage in his life despite all the previous months of mental preparation. But as he watched in amazement Aryan in his arms and Isaar in yours, the mahamatra concluded that there were no books or scrolls in the world that could describe the feelings that coursed through his veins at that moment. There wasn't enough knowledge that could teach him how to be a father, and even so, he knew he’d learn along the way to be the best he could.

The first few weeks of adaptation were exhausting for both of you. Cyno was on leave from his position, being at yours and his babies disposal and dealing with most of the household tasks, which relieved you a lot. But if he ever thought that nothing would overcome the hardness of his work at Akademiya, the sleepless nights with his newborn twins proved him wrong.

It wasn't something he complained about or refused to take on, though. He preferred you to rest as much as you could after spending the whole day with the children — it was more his lack of confidence in dealing with the little ones in your absence that tormented him.

As time went on, however, what he thought were difficult tasks became routine, so he could say with some confidence that he had adapted to fatherhood quite well. The bond between father and sons was also something that developed beautifully as the days went by, and some mornings, you’d be greeted with the sweet sight of the General Mahamatra sleeping on the armchair in the twins' room while holding both of them in his muscular arms.

Speaking of the twins, Aryan and Isaar couldn’t be as physically similar to Cyno more than they were already. The babies, just a few months old, have already demonstrated that they share the same personality with each other, which they also take after their father — the stoic and slightly indifferent expression frighteningly similar to Cyno. Aryan was a little more sullen, refusing to acknowledge others' attempts to make him smile while Isaar willingly raised his arms to familiar faces with the intention of getting something in return.

While you watched them in disbelief, your husband smiled proudly. It seems his children were already good judges of character.

Strange in its own way, but a home full of love. That would be the phrase to define your family. Although both you had divergent methods of raising your children, the twins still had complete freedom of decision about what they judged to be right or wrong. Cyno would never punish his sons for their choices; instead, he’d wisely correct them. Even though outwardly he shows rigidity and authority, Cyno is quite soft when it comes to his family so he can't stay mad at you for long.

It was honestly a strange sight for many, mainly his subordinates and the scholars who knew the man's unorthodox methods of discipline very well.

Even so, they couldn’t help but admit that fatherhood suited him well. Strangely, but still.

They only feared the possibility that in the future the boys would develop a sense of humor as horrible as their father.

Kaveh

If they asked Kaveh what his greatest achievements are, he’d readily answer that there are three of them, although two had the greatest highlights.

Even if the architect was proud of the effort and dedication that led him to give life to the Palace of Alcazarzaray, the importance of the project seemed to be irrelevant compared to the fact that he managed to win you heart. After all, maybe there was nothing so disputed between men and women all around of Teyvat but to capture the attention of the Gem of Liyue. And in a way as ironic and simple as it seemed to be, Kaveh was the only one to be able to accomplish such a feat.

As the younger sister of the Tianquan of the Qixing, it wasn’t surprising that you were also known for your intelligence, elegance and beauty, so it was expected of your people that you’d marry someone with all these qualities and wealth that could satisfy your desires.

However, they didn't know you as well as Ningguang and how Kaveh came to know you, and so, it was unexpected news that resonated for weeks when you announced your marriage.

At that time, so much uproar from the press and liyuean citizens had made Kaveh doubt himself because, well… did he even have all the means necessary to provide you with a comfortable life? He was slowly recovering from his debts and had barely started building his own house. Compared to you who literally lived in a mansion and ate from a golden platter he had nothing.

Nevertheless, you assured him that no gold or mora in the whole world could equal the love you had for him, only his reciprocal affection was what you were looking for.

And because your husband cares and loves you so deeply, Kaveh couldn't feel anything but thankfulness when you granted him with the greatest pride of his life. His daughter, Zahra.

The baby hadn't even been born and was already very adored by her father. During your pregnancy, Kaveh had been nothing but a passionate and devoted husband, helpful and attentive to both you and her. His passion for art led him to challenge himself and bring only the best when it comes to projecting Zahra's room, as well as designing the crib and its decorations. You couldn't help but watch with a smile on your face as he worked hard to provide only the best for his child.

When Zahra decided to come into the world, your husband's tearful, fascinated face only confirmed what you already knew: Kaveh would be an extraordinary father.

“I swear that I’ll protect you from all the cruelty of this world. And even if the day comes that I don't have the strength to do so, I’ll still keep you safe”, he promised as he placed a kiss on the baby's forehead.

You just smiled with equally teary eyes at the sweet scene.

Kaveh didn't know the meaning of the word tired when it came to his daughter. The blonde man loved having the baby in his arms, and when it came to her basic needs, he was a great help by proudly taking on the tasks. In fact, in the first weeks of Zahra's life, he had refused to let her sleep alone in her new room, and when you insisted on putting her in her crib, Kaveh would spend the entire night by her side. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to his little princess in his absence.

You could just roll your eyes.

As Zahra grew up, she became an increasingly beautiful girl and was much loved by her parents. Her naturally rosy cheeks and golden hair decorated with barrettes or bows made people compare her to a doll. The girl has a beauty and features similar to her father, though her sweet and laughing personality is her own traits. Kaveh feared that one day the evil of the world would take away the melodious sounds of her laughter, but there was a slight mischievous gleam in her golden eyes that betrayed that she was quite clever too.

In addition to her parents' unconditional love, Zahra also has a close relationship with her mother's sister, who has a weak spot for her niece, and with her paternal grandmother.

Shortly before marrying you, the older woman had tried to invest more in her son's life, now making sure of participating in dinners, commemorative dates or holidays.

For a long time Kaveh believed that he wasn’t worthy of such happiness. After his father's death and his mother's estrangement, the architect had a single objective: trying to survive one day at a time, fighting his own demons and relying on what little was left of his savings. He had never considered himself a man of honor, someone who was worthy of having his own family and a home to return to. In fact, he didn't consider himself a lucky man at all.

And yet, he couldn't feel as fortunate as he did because through all the paths he took and decisions he made, one of them led him to you and gave him the greatest achievements of his life.

Alhaitham

Hardly anyone would admit it out loud, but your presence in the halls of Akademiya was as fresh as a breath of spring air.

As the new Darshan teacher of Haravatat, your intelligence and passion for knowledge were characteristics that not only your students came to admire, but even the sages themselves gushed praise about, which eventually earned you a reputation that spread throughout the dendro nation. Furthermore, your beauty and charisma only complemented your charm, so there were many hearts that you had caught along the way — and consequently also have broken, as the slight bulge beneath your clothes and the golden ring shining on your left ring finger made it very clear who yours already belonged to.

To say that the beginning of your relationship with the Akademiya’s Scribe was even the subject of an academic thesis would be an understatement given that Alhaitham wasn’t someone who was known for his friendliness much less cordiality. In fact, his disinterested expression and acid humor worked precisely as a mechanism to purposefully keep people away from him, and even his friends weren’t immune to his unpleasant comments.

But even though the question remained, the students quickly learned that this attitude would never apply to you.

Like a moth drawn to the light, Alhaitham was equally drawn to you, they concluded. There was something about you that just your presence was enough to generate a small and not so noticeable change in Alhaitham's aura, even if to others he remained as rigid as he was. Besides, the progress of your pregnancy had also shown them that the scribe was as human as they were, he just had a less flashy way of showing his concern and care for his wife.

What the scholars and citizens of Sumeru saw, however, was just the tip of the iceberg compared to the affection you received from your husband when the doors to your home closed. Although Alhaitham hadn't shown his excitement as openly as you, the scribe was internally happy to begin a new stage of life by your side. And you could see this in the number of maternity books and notebooks with notes organized in his office, in the meals he had prepared meticulously thinking about nutritional values or in the care he took to suggest and choose a simple and meaningful name for your baby.

His actions were small and discreet, but enough to prove to you that he already loved the child as much as you did.

Hakim's arrival into the world also showed you the efforts your husband would make for his son. With a smile gracing his lips and slightly teary eyes, Alhaitham allowed himself to express himself a little more in the face of such a beautiful moment. It wasn't something that even you saw frequently and, therefore, you’d certainly make sure to eternalizing the picture forever in your memory.

“Thank you”, was the only thing he could say to you while looking at you with enormous tenderness.

Despite the overwhelming happiness that coursed within him, the scribe also couldn't help but feel a little empty at his grandmother's absence. Even though the longing was something he had managed for a long time now, it was in moments like these that the lady's absence came back. He was sure she’d love meeting you and her great-grandson, but wherever she was, he also knew she was taking care of his family in her own way.

Furthermore, looking at you and the child that slept so peacefully in his arms, Alhaitham knew that there was nothing to fear and that his son would grow up in a home filled with as much love as he was.

Therefore, fatherhood wasn't something that scared Alhaitham nor did it make him doubt his ability to take care of his son. If someone asked him what his biggest challenges were, he wouldn't be able to think of any because every day he was faced with something new and learned from it. Plus, Hakim was a sweet and quiet baby, a mix of both parents' personalities. Understanding his child's needs was as easy as if they were his own.

Still so small, Hakim would be surrounded by reading and multiple knowledge, often being found in the arms of one of his parents while you were working or simply reading for pleasure. You discovered that the baby liked to listen to you or Alhaitham reading aloud, so it wasn't strange to find you or your husband somewhere in the house reciting some academic article with the little one within reach.

When the boy was old enough to sit up, that’d be the time when you’d return to teaching at Akademiya, and even if your baby's presence during classes had already been discussed and authorized, Alhaitham wouldn’t hesitate to take over his care — whether taking him to his own office or to the Sanctuary of Surasthana where he would spend hours enjoying the attention of Lesser Lord Kusanali.

You could say that Alhaitham is a simplistic man. He recognizes his flaws and knows that he came with many of them, which is why he distances himself from so many people. But it was in the moments when he returned home, returning to you and your son who were waiting for him with great enthusiasm that the man thought that there was nothing as perfect as his own home.

you guys will have to forgive me again but i did not beta-read this part (clearly) nor i'll have the patience to do so because i'm currently traveling at my granny's home and it's so hot here that i couldn't even write this whole headcanon without stop everytime to take a breath of fresh air. therefore, i won't have the patience to look for mistakes now. i'll let it with you tho.

also, i remember i've said in the last part that if perhaps i start to write a genshin dad series i'd write only for the first four man i came up the idea to. however, i'm hypocrital and slut for the sumeru men too so i couldn't stop myself but draft their children biography.

i really hope you've like it so far because, for real, alhaitham's part was the hardest one and somehow i feel like this isn’t good enough to be posted. nevertheless, thank you for your reading :)

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #kaveh #kaveh x reader #cyno #cyno x reader #genshin dads au #when they're dads

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astrologylunadream · 9 months ago

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What About You Makes Them Blush? 💝🥰🎀 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hii it's Lunadream💞 Love is in the air so this will be a reading on everything about you that makes your person blush🥰✨️ hope you find your message💌

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~💖

Pile 1🎀

Pile 2🍓

Pile 3💌

Pile 4🫦

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 🩷

Pile 1🎀

Sign energy: Waves, Work place, Libra, Touch, Community, Venus, Cancer, Pluto, Water, 2nd house, 🎥🪞🛍🐭

💝Your person's energy: Aww you guys there's such soft energy in this pile, you and your person both omg🥺💞 Your person is SO good at maintaining relationships with other people, they are a true magic worker in their social circles.💬 I'm hearing "making waves" so yeah they're good at that, super kind and likeable. Getting water energy, Libra, Cancer, Scorpio, Taurus but also some indirect aquarius for some reason?? This person could have water signs in 3rd/7th/11th houses in their chart. Very charming soft allure to them, like a magnetic beauty of some kind.🌸✨️ Most of my pile 1's find this person very pretty🥰 Your person is so sweet and gentle with others, like they even touch people in such a soft way so comforting to be around😭 For some of you they have a very feminine/nurturing work environment, perhaps working around females or related to beauty. I'm picking up on some fashion/makeup related stuff take what resonates.🛍💋💖 Your person has a sweet voice, it's honestly so nice. Filming may be significant, beauty industry vibes~✨️ Their sense of style is amazing, they could enjoy shopping and trying on outfits.👚 Like seriously pile 1 your person is so aesthetic!! Mouse may be significant, maybe they find thay animal cute. They enjoy beauty routines and self care, it's no wonder they look so good🤯💕 Such lovely vibes from this person omg

🥰What about you makes them blush: Interpretation, Responsibility, Mindfulness, Venus, Self sabotage, Juno, 10th house, Leo, Uranus, 9th house,🙍‍♀️🤙🍷🩲 Interesting so maybe some of you know more about this person than you should..?😅😳 That makes your person blush a little since you have so much awareness about them and how they are, I'm getting maybe some of you have really figured this person out in some way.🔦🙊 Also your ability to analyze yourself makes them impressed, so they find it very attractive.🤭💗 Maybe you see yourself as something a little strange, they find it cute (omg). You have a lot of self worth and they love that lowkey, your poweful feminine energy no matter your gender is something they would find themselves blushing over.😳✨️Juno is here some of my pile 1's feel obligated to commit to this person, and that makes your person turn red in the cheeks! Your self awareness and determination makes them blush really. But also they have a soft spot for when you are Sad🥺 Your thighs and hair is something for them too. They feel there is really no one quite like you.❤️ This is a more specific message but for those of my pile 1's that are drinking age, maybe you have a high tolerance and that makes them blush??🍷🙈 They believe you would be very mature and responsible in your work/commitments, maybe you are very serious about your career/marriage/future plans. You radiate a bright lovely and self promoting energy that they just adore.😩💫 Your person may blush over how you're so special and the way you steal their attention.💗 Omg my pile 1's I am seeing your person blushing so much over you rn every little thing!!

💌Messages from your person: I would let you, I would do anything for you, It's not your fault, I promise, Oh my god, You might get hurt, Be careful, You will find happiness. (Maybe some of my pile 1's they're worried about you/don't want you to be hurt by anything rn🥺) Extra cards: Kabedon, Stay, Online, Tsundere, Block, North node, Moon, Leo, Venus, 2nd house (Someone really wants attention from you omg some of my pile 1's blocked this person on social media but only some. For others it's more emotionally guarding yourself from giving or recieving love from this person, but yeah they're really wanting to show you a soft love and admiration for you guys💗💗🥹)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🍨✨️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the bow emoji~🎀 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💝

Pile 2🍓

Sign energy: Win, Unexpected, Quiet, Jewelry, Remedy, Pluto, Capricorn, Taurus, Vertex, Fire, 🥰🕺🤧🎰

💝Your person's energy: Ooh powerful energy for your person✨️ Their presence speaks for them, like they don't even have to say much for everyone to go like, wow.😳😍 Lol for some of my pile 2's this person likes jewelry or accessorizing omggg, snazzy. Oh right so Scorpio, Capricorn, Taurus and fire signs in their chart. That combination of heavy earth +pluto is just🤌😩 Like seriously you guys your person is so fine. They may be more quiet or have a low voice, they aren't overly talkative or anything. They may spend a lot of money on rings, neck jewelry or earrings, I feel like it's very healing to them. Your person has a powerful aura and they may be surprisingly more intimidating than you think😳 It doesn't have to be but there is a high class/luxurious vibe to this pile's person.💼 Could be tall or act as if they are. For some of you this person has a successful business of their own on the side, I'm getting introvert vibes for some too. Chill vibe to them especially their voice. I feel like your person is unexpectedly a good dancer lol like you think they're not into that sort of thing and then the next thing you know they take you dancing and sweep you off your feet✨️🙈 Ohhh specific message but your person may have thing for gambling, this may be surprising to you guys. They like to win and this happens to them often with many things, but that'd also something they keep to themselves.🤫 My pile 2's may really love this person like you may be the one blushing rn haha🥰💖

🥰What about you makes them blush: August, Cinderella, Silence, Clench, Suspicion, 8th house, Pluto, Saturn, Earth, 6th house,🍑🆓️☁️🕯 Ahh omg🤩 So you have a really magnetic beauty they find themselves blushing over oml🥵 Like less is more for my pile 2's the less you say the more they fall for your silence!!🥹❤️‍🔥 Some of you the month august may be significant, any of my pile 2's born in fall?💗 Your person is low key obsessed with your ordinary qualities you don't think much of at all, like it could be a small little habit you don't even realize and then there's them over there blushing like crazy🙉💓‼️ I can see them start to sweat when they look a you, and like if there's an awkward silence between you both they will be so red omg😭🟥 Sometimes they feel like you have your head in the clouds when you stay silent haha like "what is pile 2 thinking right now?" They like how you try to ground yourself, maybe you meditate or take walks outside trying to connect with the universe and and they find that cute. Also they like figuring you out, so like if you seem mysterious like you have a bit of a secret it gets them smirking like "I bet I can figure pile 2 out" OMFG😰❤️ They blush just thinking about grabbing you and pulling you to them. Your dark/hidden side makes them blush but also..... your 🍑 A little obsessed that's all I'll say okay🥲 They like your fascination on tarot and spiritual topics. Oh and the way you get when you're determined about something, like you make up your mind and don't back down that would make them blush idk why but it's so cute😭🩷 Your person sees you as sort of a cinderella energy, maybe they hope you're the special one who they give everything to.✨️ Oh and if they catch themselves overthinking about you, their cheeks will turn red.🙉❤️ My pile 2's I'm loving this energy between you both!

💌Messages from your person: Just dance with me, I can't wait to meet you, We can't let anyone know, It's nice meeting you, Are you loyal to me? I'm worth it, How could you? How are you so calm? (Haha maybe your person is freaking out and you're just like mhm yeah I know😌💓) Extra cards: Treat, Cut, Impulsive, Reminder, Meant to be, Water, 9th house, Leo, 12th house, Air (Lol they wanna remind you that they feel this is meant to be between you both🥰)

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🍨✨️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the strawberry emoji~🍓 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💝

Pile 3💌

Sign energy: Image, Valentine, Regret, Physical, Tangled, 10th house, North node, Venus, 9th house, 11th house, 🆓️☄️🔝😱

💝Your person's energy: Wow this person is a somebody for sure, they have a big image to keep up. Especially ties with their online persona and self promotion, maybe they are an influencer or have a successful social media.📱✨️ Signs for them are Capricorn, Libra, Taurus, Sagittarius and Aquarius in their chart. Valentines is a significant time (also the time I'm posting this haha cute💖) I feel like they were asked online to be their valentine, like recieving a lot of love from their socials. They are physically attractive and pretty😭💗💗 Ugh like they have such soft and lovely features, and the way they dress is so pleasing. They may travel a lot or get caught up in that often, maybe they have to study really hard? For some of you this person speaks many languages and gets confused a lot of times lol😂 So a message I'm getting is that they may have regrets already about their future may turn out, they want to top themselves but also they are afraid of crashing and burning🛬🔥 This stresses them out omg😥 Maybe they identify with the movie tangled from disney, you may view this person as your ideal valentine or someone you would want to spend valentines with.💓 They want to free themselves and may feel trapped (Omg and identifying with rapunzel on that one) so they just want their future to be bright and don't want to get caught up with everything that's holding them back from reaching the top.🥇✨️ They may be respected and admired at their work or online, my pile 3's are so attracted to this person!!😍💗 College may be significant, maybe your person is studying something hard right now. They want to be very successful I'm hearing.

🥰What about you makes them blush: Poker face, Style, Intimacy, Dominant, Tongue, Leo, Venus, 1st house, Libra, 12th house,💁‍♀️👇🟥🍒 So your person finds your clothing style and preference really beautiful💗 They like the way you dress, It makes them blush like "Wtf how is pile 3 so pretty??" Lol they love your soft aura and angelic presence.🪽✨️ So a lot of physical chemistry especially on intimate levels🥵 Your body has them more than just turning red🫣‼️ They are really into your face, body, tongue, also your chest they find very attractive. All that turns them super red omg like seriously the color is there😭❤️ The idea of dominating you has them blushing, like laying you down and yeah intimacy. Some of my pile 3's are Leo venus or Libra ascendant/Venus in 1st house.🌸 They like your facial expression and like especially ones with the tongue.😳 You grab their attention and it makes them blush omg, your feminine side also is something very attractive to them (No matter the gender).🌹 They want to touch you especially what they find attractive. Yeah they definitely find your whole appearance very appealing and physically attractive, they want to do things to you that is all I'm gonna say😭 You look good in the color red to them, literally you pull out their darkest side they weren't even aware of😳 They find you very cute like they may want to squish your cheeks, also they may dream of you and then wake up with rosy cheeks like aww pile 3🥰 Yeah they have romantic fantasies about you, especially dominating you, intense ones🥵. You give off a lovely shining energy and they also see you as their other half🩷 Yeah intimacy with you would make them blush, like a lot.

💌Messages from your person: I'm playing with fire, I get lost in your eyes, There's something between us, Say my name, I won't push you to do things you don't want to, I want to cheer you up, Don't look at anyone else, Please don't give up on me, I want to travel with you (Aww🥰😍) Extra cards: Romance, Cheeks, Anger, Final, Slide, Cancer, Taurus, Fire, Juno, Leo (Yeah lots of passion and romance in this pile omg💗)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🍨✨️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the love letter emoji~💌 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💝

Pile 4🫦

Sign energy: Certain, Break, Teeth, To the grave, Stress, 6th house, 9th house, Gemini, Capricorn, Pisces, 🎪👨‍🍳😎🏰

💝Your person's energy: I am getting workaholic vibes, maybe your person has a lot to do. They may have a stressful job or schedule, leading to success but also burdens on their mental health. Cooking may be significant to you or them, like traveling to try food is coming through for me.🛩🍳 Your person has a lot on their plate right now, it's funny because didn't I say for some of you food may be significant? LOL😂 They are intelligent and use their mind a lot, they are prone to overthinking aswell. They may travel to conventions often, it could be for their job or a hobby/interest of theirs.❤️ Signs for them are Virgo, Sagittarius, Gemini, Capricorn or Pisces in their chart. I don't know why but europe is coming to mind for some reason. Ah so your person wants to break their stressful routine and relax, they just want to forget all their worries and escape.🫥☁️ They may socialize with people often, they definitely think A LOT.💭 They may also sound like they're dead tired when they speak. This is more specific but maybe for some of you this person broke their tooth one time? Their teeth are noticable. They are very serious about their goals and tend to worry themselves often.💬💦 They tend to be realistic and forget to take breaks and indulge in the fantasy every once in a while. They are too strict with themselves I'm hearing "working themselves to death" omg like they need to take care of themselves😭 They do love travel and new experiences, they may want to visit a different country and have a fun vacation to clear their mind.✈️🗺💗

🥰What about you makes them blush: Breath, Intent, Despair, True feelings, Home, Moon, 2nd house, 1st house, Saturn, 9th house,😏🚀🦷👗 Ohh so they feel very emotionally connected to you guys, your comforting energy makes them blush omg🥺💗 You are their safe place that they can come to when they're stressed and not feeling well. You may be the voice of reason when they're down or anxious. Aww this is so sweet, you hugging them would make them blush so hard🫂💘 Like so soft and comforting to them, they love your nurturing side. When they are in despair you are their light.⭐️ Your physical appearance also makes them turn red, they would love seeing you in something nice like a dress.💎🥰 Your person is a little naughty for that actually, they wouldn't mind using their teeth to get what they want😳🥵 I see them making a little smirk when you two are alone together, that's all I will say for that one.🤐 If they ever feel your breath it calms them, they may want to feel your steady breathing as you are home to them. Your intentions for wanting them to feel better and care about them would make them blush a lot🥺💖💖 Also your neck and thighs have them smiling. Touching you probably skyrockets their heart rate, they may want to kiss your thighs and the thought of that makes their cheeks red🫢❤️‍🔥 Some of you may enjoy shopping and they find that cute. Oh my pile 4 this is a really sweet and romantic connection, I am seeing lots of lip biting on their mind lol (Which fits this pile perfectly with the lips haha). Your voice makes them blush, they just want your love and care because it's so good to them😩💘

💌Messages from your person: Do you still want this? You're my special someone, I saw it coming, Are you in love with them? You make me feel at home, I see your efforts, Tell me what's bothering you, You are my favorite song. (Aww pile 4 again you are home to them💖) Extra cards: Fantasy, Queen of hearts, Recover, One and only, Blossom, Scorpio, Uranus, Fire, 11th house, Pluto (You're like the omly fantasy they believe in omg. Yeah there is a lot of magnetic attraction to you guys seriously they're kinda hooked🤯❤️‍🔥)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🍨✨️

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the lips emoji~🫦 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💝

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

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bilolli · 9 months ago

Text

Just Dance Care AU!

Ok ok so I thought of a story for this Au but it’s nothing really impactful or full of drama and angst like my other au’s, I wanted to leave this au easy and fun to play around, because, let’s say it. Just Dance and drama in the same sentence makes me laugh.

story and PNG version under the cut!

(I gave up on Y/n design because I couldn't figure out a general look for them. This is you we are talking about! Draw your own JD fit, I'll draw mine soon XD)

Anyway here’s the story so far:

Year 2029, videogames industry made a huge step forward and classic consoles and devices were substituted by the new and upgraded VR headsets with full body tracking. It’s something like the NerveGear in Sword Art Online without the kill switch. Some games still require you to actually move your body (like fitness games or sports because yeah, they don’t have a purpose otherwise).

Y/n wanted to buy the newest VR headset but, while searching for the best offer, they found out FazCo entertainment was hosting a giveaway, the prize? One of their prototypes, a VR meant to be released the next year coinciding with the opening of their first mega pizza plex.

(so the plex doesn’t exist right now). You decide to sign up for the giveaway and after a while you receive an email telling you you won the VR headset and that, to claim it, you need to read and sign a series of NDA policies (understandable, it’s a prototype headset that’s not even in commerce). Some clauses are a little bit concerning but nothing you hadn’t read on other electronics booklets, so you decide to sign. After, like, a day, you have the VR in your hands.

The box let you know with super saturated and colorful writing, that the VR came with a game pre-installed inside. Uh, that’s why they were giving one away, they wanted a free game tester…but you know what, it’s worth it.

You always liked Just Dance games, they make you think about happy memories of your childhood. This pre-installed game called “Five Dances at Freddy’s” is a close copy of your childhood game with original FazCo songs, characters, environments and also some collaborations with other famous artists. It probably will be the cause of a big copyright infringement report.

There are various ways to play it: story mode, Casual dance, Five Dances, and Just Dance Care.

The first one is similar to the casual dance mode but with little cutscenes between a dance and another to tell a tale, Casual dance is how you can play the collab songs, Five Dances is the multiplayer mode and Just Dance Care is a more uhhhh “hard” way to play the game with all the other modes mixed in it. You stare at the description of the last mode smirking and decide to try it first just to see how far you can get before losing (yes you can lose in hard mode in this Just Dance, but you don’t die, you just have to restart from the beginning). Turns out the FazCo wasn’t kidding when they advertised the new headset as a breakthrough in the world of virtual reality headsets, the thing TRANSPORTED you inside the game itself.

You almost have a heart attack when you can’t find your VR on your head, but before you can try something you are blocked by two tall individuals who you think are the “tutorial” characters.

Yadda yadda, tutorial, you can pause the game and exit whenever you need just by opening an hidden menu, you find out your tutorial characters are called Sun and Moon and that you are way worse than you remembered at dancing (damn full body tracking, there is no way you are going to do a cartwheel in the middle of a dance, you still don’t know if your body is inside your home and if you’ll physically feel pain if you fall and you don’t want to find out).

You pass an embarrassingly long time trying to win your first dance battle just to discover it was still the tutorial.

You try to go on with the story but you fail at the first real battle with a bear character named Freddy.

And guess what? You have to start again from the tutorial! Y/n is gonna spend A LOT of time with Sun and Moon if this goes on.

#JDCAU #Just Dance Care AU #bilolli's art

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rileyslibrary · 2 years ago

Note

I love your sense of humour and have cracked up at your stories multible times. Maby you can find some inspiration in this:

Price ordering the team to an etiquette training so they know how to behave in case they have to go under cover in a more "fancy" environment (or the upcoming mission may require something like this). I'm thinking about Ghosts "sausage fingers" from the origami bit on a delicate litte cake fork... Or him needing to *converse* with someone.

I think putting these hard soldiers in a situation that's out of their comfort zone is always a fun read!

Thank you for letting us enjoy your fantastic writing! <3

Be gentle, man!

Relationship: TF141 x F!Reader with a potential Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader (platonic?) on the horizon. Also there’s an OC in the story.

Word Count: 1,598 (approx. 7-8 min reading time)

Notes: I began writing this last night as a joke, and couldn’t stop. Thank you SO MUCH for inspiring me to do this, anon. It’s a crackfic btw. (There’s a part 2 now here)

———————————————————————

The training room feels out of place compared to its usual purpose. Bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the once-busy gym has been transformed into a classroom for an unlikely lesson—manners, of all things. Table manners, to be precise.

“Talk about Fitness Vs. Finesse,” Soap whispers, and you playfully nudge his side. The comment reaches Gaz’s ears, and he lets out a chuckle. Yet, Price’s death stare reclaims your attention and brings you back to focus.

You all sit around a long, polished mahogany table atop the gym’s boxing ring, admiring the delicate china and crystal glassware set before you. It reminds you of Aunt Claire’s preserved collection, which rarely leaves its cabinet. Lady Theodora, your etiquette instructor, assures you that each piece serves a purpose, and you will put them all to use. Every. Single. One of them.

Lady Theodora, the epitome of timeless confidence, moves gracefully around the table. Her silver hair is slicked back, framing a face that exudes years of wisdom and experience. Her Bordeaux-coloured shawl billows behind her as she glides, catching the gentle breeze her steps create. She pauses behind Price’s chair and reveals the reason behind today’s masterclass: an undercover operation.

“In the world of espionage, where appearances can mean the difference between life and death,” she says in a soft voice, “the art of etiquette becomes a weapon, a shield, and,” she concludes, resting her hand on Price’s shoulder, “your ticket to survival.”

“Bollocks.”

All eyes are drawn to the far end of the table, where a shadowy figure prefers to go unnoticed but isn’t afraid to express doubts. The only visible sign of life is a hand fidgeting with the butterknife.

“I beg your pardon, Lieutenant.” Lady Theodora says, and Ghost leans forward, revealing his unmasked—and visibly annoyed—face.

“We’re soldiers, not knights,” he claims. “Teaching us how to use all these,” he says, motioning to the various utensils before him, “is a waste of time, both yours and mine.”

Lady Theodora regards him gently as if looking at a child throwing a tantrum. She smiles and walks behind him, gripping the back of his chair.

“You seem quite certain of your own competence and doubtful of mine, Mr Riley,” she says, amused.

Ghost tilts his head to the side, partially facing her.

“With all due respect, Lady Theodora,” he replies, “I don’t believe you fully comprehend how such missions operate.”

Lady Theodora lets a light chuckle as she moves closer to Ghost’s face.

“My record of 25 confirmed kills, three of which were accomplished with a butterknife like the one in your hand, might suggest otherwise,” she admits. “Now, would you kindly move your seat forward, Lieutenant? I’ll show you how to act like a proper gentleman.”

Ghost’s Adam’s apple bobbles as he swallows hard. He returns the butterknife to its original position and pushes his chair forward with Lady Theodora’s help.

Gaz clears his throat and looks at Soap.

“Imagine her dinner parties,” he whispers so Price doesn’t hear him, “they must be perfectly executed.”

“Bet she makes a killer soufflé,” Soap whispers back.

You look at them and mutter, “You two are beyond help.” Unfortunately, it’s your own comment that catches Price’s attention this time, and he gives you a stern warning to behave.

“Let’s get started,” Lady Theodora says. “Projecting confidence and grace requires proper posture: sit up straight, shoulders back, and imagine a string pulling you upward from the crown of your head.”

You all adjust your posture, attempting to imitate Lady Theodora. Ghost used to a more relaxed posture, finds it difficult to maintain the required formality. His broad shoulders hunch forward, and he struggles to keep his legs straight.

“Excellent,” Lady Theodora remarks, catching Ghost’s struggle but choosing not to comment further. “Next, we shall delve into the art of dining. Each utensil on the table has a specific purpose, and it is essential to use them correctly.”

She points to the array of utensils laid out before you. Multiple forks, knives, and spoons of various sizes and shapes make the sight overwhelming.

“The outermost utensils are for the earlier courses, while the inner ones are for the later ones.” Lady Theodora says, “It’s like unwrapping a gift, one course at a time.”

You all nod and place the napkin on your lap to begin the process.

Ghost’s ingrained military habits take over when food is served, causing him to devour it quickly. He shovels forkfuls of food into his mouth without looking up and barely pausing to chew.

“Mr Riley,” Lady Theodora addresses Ghost, who shoots his head up to look at her. “I understand the military inclination to eat fast, but we must remember that the food isn’t going anywhere. Take your time, savour each bite, and enjoy your meal, please.”

“Sorry ’bout that.” Ghost mumbles with his mouth full.

Lady Theodora raises an eyebrow. “Mr Riley, it is impolite to speak with your mouth full,” she reminds him. “Please, swallow your food before continuing.”

Ghost swallows and clears his throat. “Apologies, Lady Theodora,” he mutters.

Lady Theodora smiles and nods at Ghost’s response. “Very well, Lieutenant Riley,” she says. “Remember, dining is about more than just the food; it’s also about the company and the experience.”

As the training continues, you witness Soap’s attempts to initiate a proper conversation, only to subconsciously bring up military strategies. Gaz, on the other hand, struggles with small talk and, when asked about his hobbies, blurts out his love of explosions.

“Kerosene is one hell of a—”

“No kerosene talk on the table, Sergeant,” Lady Theodora interrupts. “How about we talk about something more appropriate, like, for example, what did you do today?”

“You’re not going to like it.” He replies.

“Did it involve kerosene?” She asks and receives multiple excited nods from Gaz.

Ghost forgets about his napkin while using the finger bowl and instinctively flicks his hands to dry them. Droplets of water scatter across the table, and Lady Theodora steps forward with a calm smile. She retrieves his napkin and hands it to him. “Remember, Lieutenant,” she whispers, “the napkin is your ally.”

Throughout this ordeal, Price seems to be the only one who already has a natural fluidity in his movements. Like he already knows about etiquette.

You compliment his impeccable manners, but Lady Theodora intervenes before Price can respond.

“Oh, that’s because the Captain already received my services a few years ago,” she reveals, winking.

Price, caught off guard, coughs and sputters, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. After regaining his composure, he clears his throat and grins.

“Yes, well, Lady Theodora’s guidance has been, um, invaluable,” he manages to say and lowers his gaze to his plate. Gaz raises an eyebrow, and Soap gives a sly smile.

With the etiquette training completed, Price gracefully positions his utensils on his plate and folds his napkin. Lady Theodora hands him a file stack, which he distributes to you.

“These files contain detailed background information for your assigned roles,” he explains. “Study them carefully; familiarise yourselves with the personas you will embody, and don’t worry; with Lady Theodora’s help, you’ll have plenty of time to learn how to carry yourselves.”

He watches you all as you take hold of your respective files, scanning the pages and absorbing the details that will shape your performances.

“Gaz, within those pages, you’ll uncover the roadmap to shape your tech persona, along with essential contacts and valuable industry insights,” Price declares.

“A startup entrepreneur,” Gaz mutters and nods, “nice.”

“Soap,” Price continues, “your file contains the lineage and history of an alleged oil tycoon family; you’ll assume the identity of their sole son and heir to the business.”

“Why do I get the oil-moneyed spoiled brat?” Soap protests, “Gaz is the one obsessed with fossil fuel!”

Price looks at Lady Theodora, silently begging her to take the lead.

“Focus on embodying the demeanour of an heir, Sergeant MacTavish,” she comforts Soap. “Acquiring in-depth knowledge of the business is not a top priority now.”

Finally, Price shifts his focus to you and Ghost. His voice softens, and a smile appears on his lips.

“As for the two of you,” he says, “your assignment requires a convincing portrayal of a couple.”

You and Ghost exchange a brief look before returning your focus to the files in your hands.

“Laswell will provide you with a forged marriage certificate and photos of your alleged relationship,” Price continues. “The documents will serve as tangible proof if the need to validate your connection arises.”

“Any chance to let us know who or what we’re after?” Gaz asks, and Price shakes his head.

“Baby steps, Sergeant; we’re waiting for Laswell to give us more intel,” he explains, “but as far as we know, we’re dealing with people who can buy their way out of some very sketchy shit.”

“Language, Captain.” Lady Theodora reminds him.

“Please accept my sincere apologies, Theodora,” he says and turns to Gaz. “I meant sketchy things, Sergeant.”

As they continue discussing the mission, your mind wanders on the latest information. Ghost’s partner? How? You look at the file and then back at Ghost. You see Lady Theodora walking behind Ghost’s chair and leaning close to his ear. She looks at you and whispers to him.

“I told you, Lieutenant,” she says, “I’ll mould you into a proper gentleman.”

Ghost turns to face you as well. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Lady Theodora,” he replies.

But Lady Theodora smiles and touches his shoulder, “Oh, you’ll see, Mr Riley—you’re my gift to unwrap, one course at a time.”

———————————————————————

Part 2 ->

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hira492 · 7 months ago

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Something I made for my Environment Design Class✨🧡

I designed Mummers House from Rainbow Rowell's book, Carry On!

In the book, Simon says that Watford was built around the 1500s so, according to that date and the fact that it's UK, the architecture I used is Tudor Architecture! It was really fun investigating about it and applying that to what is told to us about the building on the book!

I went for a more bricks and stone look of the Tudor style than with a wood and sharp black lines look because of what's described in the book by Simon!

I took extra time designing the turret Simon and Baz have their room in and figuring out how to fit it into the style while maintaining the overall silhouette!

#myart #simon snow #mummers house #rainbow rowell #carry on #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #simon snow trilogy #tudor england #tudor architecture #enviroment art #environment design #watford #watford school of magicks

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callofdudes · 2 years ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Autistic Reader headcanons.

A/N: I myself am not autistic but I do know a fair bit about it. So I figured I'd write headcanons before writing a fic just to dip my toes in and see if I can get it right.

I know that autism can present a bit differently for some things across different people. Please feel free to let me know if something in this list is not correct. ❤️

Ghost would be lying if he said he didn't give you extra special treatment apart from his other teammates. And it's well justified. Simon knows not to compare you to a child but he also knows that you need things the others don't.

Simon has picked up on subtle signs throughout the months working with you. How sometimes when things didn't go according to plan on base it would leave you more stressed out than it should have. Sometimes if your food wasn't what you had expected it to be, he'd notice how you'd react.

He eventually consulted your file before making any decisions. That's how he'd found out you are autistic.

Simon knew someone who was autistic, so he made sure to keep his eye close on you.

He noticed each little shift. How you would stim with your clothing or your hair, too embarrassed to carry a fidget toy around base. But that didn't matter to Simon. He made sure to take care of everything. He bought some fidget toys small enough to fit in his jacket and when in meetings or just sitting around, he'd pull a toy like magic from his pocket and hand it over.

You'd been incredibly grateful the first few times, and then it just became routine that Simon would carry around the toys for you and have one on hand whenever you needed.

He also noticed which ones you liked, and didn't like. Some you would hand back because they didn't feel right on your fingers. Others clicked and slid in a way you didn't quite like, and he kept a tab of that. He compared fidget toys you did like to similar ones and was very precise every time he got you a new one.

He made sure that in every environment he was nearby. How you'd react to the lights, different sounds. How you'd react when it got to loud and crowded or too quiet. What noises bugged you and what calmed you.

When on missions, Simon made sure to talk you through each step. He thought his voice would help you to face the unexpected. Telling you where to go and exactly what to do, ready to face any situation.

"Take a deep breath y/n, you're doing great. Two Shadows on your left, you can take them out from where you are without being spotted"

Your level of empathy and emotional awareness was also something he had to take into account. You could sensitive to anger. You could feel a great deal of empathy and almost take on the burden of It being your fault even if you had nothing to do with it. Because of this, Simon made sure that you were aware his anger was never on you.

"Simon? Did I do something wrong? You looked really upset when you looked at me earlier and I just thought that maybe-"

Simon places his hand on your shoulder. "No no, just had a rough morning. You did absolutely nothing wrong. Got it?"

Simon has also become much more aware of how he teases you. You were emotionally aware to the point that you very clearly understood Simon would joke about being hurt, or would make fun of you and it was all jokes. He understood that you understood how his emotions worked as well.

But there was the occasional time where Simon would pretend to be hurt by your words and you'd have genuine regret. It doesn't happen as often as he would have thought, but when it does, he's right there to reassure you he is completely fine.

Simon actually gets more upset than you do when people call you a child wrapped up in an adults body with a nice little bow on top. Of course you have your traits but Simon has seen your hobbies and interests. You're no super genius but you are more than a child. You just have a different trajectory point on life's train tracks. And Simon makes sure to remind anyone he doesn't think is being respectful of you as a person.

Nightmares can affect you more harshly because of your emotional investment with things and the people around you.

The first time Simon saw you become overstimulated he was a little scared he'll be honest. He panicked a little bit. But now he knows exactly what to do. At first he tried to comfort you, allowing you to be swallowed up in his embrace, he crushed you tightly in his arms and smoothed his hands over your muscles. It would sometimes take a while for you to come down from your high, but he was there for every moment.

When he becomes a bit better at knowing how to handle a situation when you get over stimulated the process is smoother. Simon will notice how you can completely shut down. Sometimes it's near a meltdown with tears flowing everywhere. And other times you just disconnect. You don't move, don't speak, completely distant. Simon approaches you gently and picks you up in his arms.

"This ok?" He whispers near your ear as to not startle you. You cling to him tightly, burying your head in his neck. "Alright, come on, you've had a long day."

He rubs your back and brings you to your room. If you're away from base he just finds a separate room that is quiet. Anywhere he can go to separate the noise and bustling energy from you. If you're in your room he'll lay you down and just get you to relax.

Tears flow down your cheeks, hands still clasping the material of Simon's hoodie. Simon gently rubs your collar and down over your shoulders. He presses on different parts of your arms until you relax. "Take a deep breath. Take a deep breath." Simon breathes in deeply, prompting you to mimick. He wipes the tears from your cheeks and fetches your heavier blanket from the end of the bed. "See? You're ok."

He grabs your fidget from your desk and place it in your hand, or sometimes he'll lean over you and allow you to play with his sweater.

He talks softly and calmly, he does know kinder and softer words of reassurance help.

Sometimes all you want to do is hug Simon under the warmth of your weighted blanket, his arms wrapped around you like mountains compressing you from all angles.

And sometimes Simon will shut the door, lay you on your back and lay the weighted blanket just above the bend in the bottom of your spine. If you want a fidget toy he'll get you one to distract your hands while he runs soothing motions along your muscles, feeling them relax and contract. He plays white Noise in the background for you, or he'll give you his phone so you can watch soap cutting videos or other visually satisfying things.

"How are you doing?" He whispers near your ear, thumbs rubbing over your stomach and up around your back to cup your shoulder blades. "Look at it." You flip the phone to show a satisfying paint video. "Oh, that's a cool one isn't it?" You nod and go back to watching it.

Wherever Simon got so good at doing massages, you would not change it for the world. You've expressed before how nice they feel and how they calm you down. And Simon continues to do them.

Simon always makes sure that when you're over stimulated you have something to do with your hands. Again, if you want to play with his hoodie he'll stay with you so you can. If you want to run your hands through his hair, he's become comfortable enough to allow it.

"What are you doing up there?" He asks with a smile. You hum, combing your fingers through the short hair of his nape and up into the longer locks. "Soft." You express the feeling over your fingertips. "Yeah? I did shower." "I like your hair."

The occasional times you go nonverbal and are unsure how to express your needs, Simon will pull out a few toys and just crawl up next to you. He holds out his hoodie strings and comb his fingers through your hair.

He lays next to you, holding up one of the fidget toys. You gently take it and allow your fingers to move over it. Simon stays, fingers moving to drift through your scalp. You abandon the toy quicker than he expected and reach for his hoodie. "Oh you want this?" He smiles and moves closer so you can play with the strings of his hoodie.

Simon knows that you are incredibly passionate about what makes you happy. He often bugs you that you never shut up, but he knows you love it. One time when you both couldn't sleep early on the morning, Simon made you both tea and sat silently while you went on for nearly four hours about the lore of your favorite game/movie/TV show. He'd add little key points and poke out certain details, which would lead you down a detailed side rant before coming back to wrap everything up. The conversations would ring you dry of information. Simon would be lying if he said he didn't like it when you info dumped on him.

It was one of your ways you expressed your love. Sharing these things that made you so incredibly happy and Simon wanted to be a part of that.

Simon is still learning, and honestly he's very happy to learn. Sometimes he gets things right and sometimes he doesn't. But he is always here to make sure you get the care and provision you need. Whether it's taking a step back or a step in.

#im neurodivergent myself so i have a decent understanding i think #of course this is only to spread love #simon ghost riley #call of duty headcanons #ghost x reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley headcanons #autistic reader #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley headcanons #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #x reader #platonic x reader

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officialrocketjumper · 1 year ago

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HOWDY EVERYONE- so excited to FINALLY be able to show off my piece for this year's Bumbleby Big Bang!

Unfortunately no accompanying story as of yet- but I really hope you guys get to read it someday! The premise involves Yang cursed to be trapped inside a sword, which was an idea I KNEW I had to make move.

Details and development stuff under the cut!

Lots of fun collaboration with the author, Celeste! We worked together to find the look-of-picture, Blake's outfit, how the Grimm look, the style of the sword, the whole shabang! I'm really happy with how it all turned out!

When I first saw all the prompts, even before claims opened, I got to work on a handful of exploration pieces based on some of the summaries, to decide which of the stories I was interested in would be the best fit. Here's the initial idea for this one I put together over a lunch break:

After showing Celeste, we got to work finding the look we wanted! Went back and forth a bit and found this great look for Blake! Also shoutout to Pinterest boards for visdev inspiration I love you Pinterest boards.

Just about everything stayed to final anim, with the simplification of getting rid of that purple cloth hanging from her belt, (since I already had the rope ends to think about working with), and the light purple strap across the chest, since leaving it out would simplify the linework on her chest.

The sword also went through a bit of change! Celeste had the idea of Yang making the sword catch on fire, which I LOVED. I went with a split design so we can see the fire more clearly start from the hilt and grow to cover the whole blade.

And from there we brainstormed animation ideas! I went all over Youtube for video reference of sword work (that would be complex enough to be interesting, but short enough to be manageable). I found something we liked from Motion Actor Inc., a channel I've used LOTS for both personal and professional work (I work in 3D Animation, for those who don't know). I edited this together, to see the action from multiple places at once, which gave me the idea for that camera move that's in the final anim!

Now for the fun part! Make that badboy MOVE. For the cam turn, the first frame she's in the air I'm referencing the top left video, and the frame she lands I'm referencing the bottom left one. While she's airborne I'm just inbetweening that! No reference for the Grimm, just wanted it responding to her attacks, but I end up tweaking the roughs later on to make the block feel stronger.

Then from there we had to actually figure out Grimm designs! Nimona had just released, and Celeste and I loved it, so she asked if I could take some inspiration from Nimona's shadow form! GLADLY. Here's what I came up with!

I was going between how the movies and comic designed Nimona, really loving the almost liquid shadow of the movie, but also how the comics had this broken up/held together rougher form. Celeste liked the second to last one the best! The original plan was to have it leave a wispy shadow trail like the concept art, but to simplify the animation we left it solid instead!

Next up is tiedown! Basically just getting the roughs more on-model, so the lineart comes out nice and clean. I've also transferred the new Grimm design to the base from earlier, and fire's also outlined orange so it reads clearer. (SPOILER- if you look REAL close here, you can see Yang visible in the fire! I liked the idea of Blake's slash also doubling as Yang throwing a punch. The idea is in the concept art earlier but now it's working with the action.)

Next step- final look of picture!! I asked Celeste for sources of inspiration to draw from when thinking about environment design, and we got Nimona, She-Ra, and Owl House! Used each of those as springboards for shading style, colour palettes, and how the fire would look!

From there, we kept the straight trees/bush/lake/foreground greenery from the first one, the blues from the second, and the fire from the third!

Once I had this frame, it was a matter of working backwards and making the background work pre-camera turn (which was ABSOLUTELY the most challenging part of this process). Learned a lot doing this! Procreate isn't quite equipped to make something like this efficient, but I'm pleased to say that Dreams would make something like this easier in the future (keyframing objects instead of hand-drawing/spacing duplicates by hand, for example).

From then on it was just colouring the lineart, adding shading, and finishing up the background! Beginning-to-end this whole process was beginning of July to end of October!

I had an absolute BLAST putting all this together. Here's to next year where I find a way to do something even more ridiculously complicated!! It's fun!!!

#rwby #bumbleby #bumbleby big bang #bbb2023 #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #(technically!!! look at the fire!!)#officialrocketart #officialrocketanimates #greatest hits #HOOO WHAT AN UNDERTAKING #so glad I came up with an idea pretty outside of my comfort zone but having the CLEAREST idea on how to execute it #means things went smoothly it just took a Long Time #AND I LEARNED LOTS #hope you guys can read the story one day!! its dope!!#bonus bonus fact for tag readers i didn't put in the post proper: i showed the rough pass to ANIMATION INDUSTRY COLLEAGUES for feedback #shoutout to ioana and v love you both lots #ioana for tightening up the rough pass and suggesting i smear the sword #and v for notes on my sword smears #okay i hope you guys enjoy!!!#it has been true for ages now but The Bees Motivate Me To Create #and in these trying times i thank them for that

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pjmmania · 13 days ago

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If Snow Decides to Fall

3. "I hear you now."

Chapter Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of abortion, explicit language, profanity

Tag List: @marihoneywk

Back to Chapter Index

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Nine weeks. You’d known about the pregnancy for a full month, and neither of you had told a soul. That is, until last night, two weeks after the ultrasound. You revealed it to your parents via phone call when you got home from work, and they were furious. You couldn’t stop stewing over their words:

"What do you mean you're pregnant?!"

"Park Jimin?! And how does he plan on supporting you?"

"Won't this cost you your job? How could you be so irresponsible?"

"We raised you better than this, young lady."

You tried to explain to them that you were, in fact, in a relationship with him. You tried to tell them how you met him a year ago, not in some sexually charged environment, but at work. And this wasn't just a one-night stand gone awry. You were committed to one another and to having this baby, but it was as if their ears were totally closed to hearing anything outside of what they decided was the truth.

You could have cried that morning, but you were also mightily relieved that it was over. Now they knew, they could digest it on their own, and you could move on with your business.

Getting dressed for work, you dealt with the same fatigue and sickness that had become routine. You had figured out that bananas and plain rice helped soothe your stomach, and you could keep it down, so that’s what you ate for breakfast.

As you consumed your food slowly, you stared at the sonogram photos, which you had magnetized to the refrigerator. It took a few conversations to get there, but you and Jimin were finally able to work out a date and time for the next ultrasound. It would be at the twenty-week mark in August at his place. You smiled to yourself as you daydreamed about it, but there was something else to be excited for in the very near future.

You glanced back into your living room, where there was a gift on the sofa. It was wrapped in neutral light green paper and a simple white bow. You’d gotten a little surprise for Jimin, and planned on giving it to him whenever you were at his apartment next.

Jimin was working out intensely at the studio’s fitness center early that morning, partially because it was necessary to keep up with his job, but also to push out nervous energy.

He knew you told your parents the night before, and he also knew how they reacted. You were reluctant to share it for the sake of sparing his feelings, but he insisted on it. Now that he was fully aware of how your parents felt about him, it stirred him up inside. He wanted the grandparents of his child to at least like him.

Even worse, today was the day he promised he’d tell his own parents. Unsettled and keyed up, he was running on the treadmill much harder than normal. The more he overthought about what his parents would say, the harder he ran. It was beginning to draw attention from Taehyung, Jungkook, and Namjoon, who were all working out at the same time.

Taehyung finished his set on one of the leg machines and got off so he could switch places with the leader, gesturing to Jimin with the quick tilt of his head, "What is he doing? We have a dance practice today. He's going to burn himself out."

Namjoon furrowed his brows, agreeing that this was most unlike him to do something like this. If they had dance practice on a given day, then he made sure he kept his gym activities lighter, more like a warm-up. Right now, it looked like he was training for a marathon. Something had still been a little off about Jimin over the past few weeks. This was just the latest example, and he was becoming more worried by the day.

Jungkook finished a set of pull-ups, "I'll go check on him."

The youngest wiped his dark brown, sweat-clung hair off his forehead and then dabbed off his face with his t-shirt. He made his way over to his panting friend, trying to get his attention.

Jimin took out an earbud when he thought he heard someone calling him. He turned his head to find a humored Jungkook standing there, "What's up?"

"You need to slow the fuck down," Jungkook said, "Don't kill those legs before practice."

"I'm fine," he puffed, "This is light."

"You've been at it for almost thirty minutes. That's double what you typically do before dancing. Come on, Jimin. You'll get all the cardio you desire in a few hours."

He had a point, so he hit the button for the machine to come to a halt. It was only when he became sedentary again that he realized how hard he had pushed his body. It felt like his chest was going to implode. He clutched his shirt over his chest, taking the other earbud out.

Jungkook stepped a bit closer and lowered his voice, "You okay, hyung?"

Jimin said nothing, too desperate to catch his breath. All he could do was nod, but it did little to convince.

The weight was coming down on him. Abruptly, he got off the treadmill and walked out into the hallway, not even stopping to take a drink of water. His heart and mind were both racing. He couldn't take it anymore - he might as well just give them a call now. Rip the bandaid off.

He took the elevator up to the eighth floor, where the private studio rooms were. Yoongi, Jin, and Hoseok might have been in theirs, so he opted for the one that was open for general use. He thanked his lucky stars that this was taking place before work hours, so there was no outside party there to see him looking this distraught. All he had to do was avoid the eyes of the managers, who were likely already in their offices.

He pressed the access code into the pad on the wall with a hasty index finger. Once inside the four soundproof walls, the door locked automatically behind him.

There was a desk set up against the wall with a couple of monitors and a swivel chair. He sank into the chair and took a pause, staring his mother’s contact on the phone. Breathing finally slowing down, he cleared his throat and forced himself to push the button against his own wishes.

He put the phone to his ear and listened to it ring four times, before his mother’s sweet voice.

“Jimin?”

He gulped, “Hey, Mom. How are you?”

“What’s wrong?” she asked him immediately. A mother knew her child, and she certainly could detect the nervousness in his voice, no matter how hard he was trying to sound normal.

There was no point in lying to her, “Nothing’s wrong, per se. But I do need to tell you and Dad something really important. Is he around?”

“Sure, honey. One second.” she said before calling his father’s name in the background.

Jimin’s knee was bouncing up and down as he tapped his foot. The time was fast approaching.

“Hey,” his father’s voice joined in, “How are you, son?”

“I’m alright Dad. I need to tell you guys something and I don’t necessarily know how to do it,” he smiled anxiously, “Um…Yeah, I really have no idea how to do this.”

His mother used a soft, caring tone, “You can tell us. You said it was nothing bad, right?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Jimin sighed, reclining back in the chair, “To me it’s not, at least not anymore. But it’s probably going to upset you.”

“That’s most unlike you. You know you can tell us anything.” His father said.

He nodded, starting to work up the courage he needed, “I know, I know…Okay, I just have to do it. Do you both remember me telling you about the girl I’ve been seeing, Y/N?”

“Yes,” his father said wearily, “I think I know where this is going. Son, please tell us you didn’t propose to this girl without introducing her to your mother and me first.”

“What? No, it’s not that. But we’ve been seeing each other for a year now and things have gotten pretty serious…really serious actually,” Jimin coerced the words out of his mouth, “She’s pregnant.”

The air went dead. On the other end of the line, his parents were utterly stunned. Their silence was making him writhe. He went from leaning back in the chair to bending forward, doubled over with his elbows on his knees.

He pushed his free hand back into his hair, “I know this comes as a shock. I’m sorry. It just sort of…happened.”

His mother came back instantly with a voice full of worry and sternness, “Babies don’t just happen, Jimin. You weren’t being careful.”

“How long have you known about this? And are you certain it's yours?” his father inquired. Jimin could tell he was fuming.

“About a month,” he admitted, “She’s nine weeks along, and yes, it's mine. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys sooner. We wanted to wait until the first ultrasound to make sure things were okay, plus it’s just been a lot to deal with.”

The concerned and aggravated woman laughed out of bewilderment, “Of course it’s a lot, honey. It’s a baby. I hope you have gotten a plan together by now. Are you going to be able to co-parent with her? How will this all work?”

He wanted to shrink into oblivion, “I honestly have no idea, Mom. And I know that’s not what you want to hear, but Y/N and I will figure it out.”

His father’s tone was the slightest bit gentler, “At the very least, can you tell us you are committed mother of your child?”

He answered quickly, wanting to appease them with something they’d actually want to hear, “We are deeply committed to each other and to being good parents together. I love her. This is the first relationship I’ve had that has grown slowly over time and I think that makes it different. She really knows me, all of me. And I know her.”

His mother sighed, “I’m glad you’ve developed strong relationship and that she makes you happy, but love alone doesn’t make for good parenting. You need a plan, Jimin, especially with your career. Stability is everything for a child.”

Finally, a chance for him to vent, “I know, that’s been the hard part. I feel like I’m failing them both every time I pretend that we aren’t together. No one even knows we’re seeing each other, and if they did, she’d get fired. How can I offer them stability if the options are to either keep it all a secret or to expose it and upheave our whole lives with a scandal?”

“Your life has already been upheaved, son,” his father said, “Becoming a father is the biggest change you will ever undergo, whether you are an idol or not. And it disappoints me to hear you call this a 'scandal'. Your son or daughter is not a scandal. Now I’m not thrilled with this news, but if you are going to make this work, you need to stop that kind of thinking.”

“He’s right,” his mother said, “Both of you must accept the repercussions of this, even though a lot of it will sting. Anything less would be putting yourselves over this child."

As embarrassing as this conversation was, their guidance was something he had been starving for. They had a way of giving clarity amid the disarray.

Deep down, he knew this would have to come to light someday - you'd both acknowledged that multiple times already. But now he had a different perspective:

The inevitable reveal didn't have to be scary if it was seen as a necessity for this baby's wellbeing. It was something that had to be done for the sake of raising a child with as much normalcy and steadiness as possible. Otherwise, his or her life would be nothing but secrecy and isolation. The thought of his child feeling like a burden that needed to be hidden away sent shivers down Jimin's spine. If the way to prevent that turmoil was to face the fire, then he would do it.

"Yeah," he nodded, "I needed to hear that. Thank you, even though I know this news isn't a talk you ever wanted to have with me. I'm sorry this disappoints you."

"We wish you'd been more careful," his mother sighed, "But your father and I love you and we will always do what we can to support you. It seems like you have hard months ahead of you, but being a parent comes with unimaginable sacrifices. If you can face them, it will be worth it."

The middle-aged man concurred before adding to the sentiment, "And we have no doubt that you have it in you to be a wonderful father, Jimin."

Unexpectedly, emotion consumed him. To hear that from his own dad meant more than he could have anticipated. He'd been torn up in a never-ending pendulum swing ever since finding out, going back and forth between excitement and fear. Such assurance from an outside party had been a missing piece.

Choked up but not quite crying, Jimin bit the inside of his cheek and then grunted, "Thanks, Dad. Thank you both. I love you guys and I want you to meet Y/N sometime soon. You'll adore her."

He couldn't see it, but his mother was starting to smile, "You really love her, don't you?"

"She's something else," he cleared the inner corners of his eyes with his thumb and index finger, "You'll see it after a only minute of talking to her...I did."

“And you said there’s already been an ultrasound,” she said, “Is everything going okay so far?”

He found himself unable to hold back a small grin, “Yeah, it’s going well. Y/N's been pretty under the weather lately, but she was told it's all normal."

"We will look forward to meeting her," his father said, "We will work out a day to come by. In the meantime, just bear what we've said in mind and take time to plan the next steps."

"I will.”

Both parties then said their goodbyes and hung up. Jimin set his phone on the desk and put his arms behind his head, inhaling and exhaling deeply. It was over with. He’d made it over that hurdle, and it went better than he thought.

He walked out of that studio room in much better spirits than when he went in. Even though he was due at practice in a couple hours, he went back down to the floor on which he started this morning. There were showers available for use, and he felt like he needed a rinse, feeling cold from the drying sweat.

On his way to the showers, he grabbed his bag, which contained a change of clothes for practice. It was waiting for him along the wall in the workout room. Thankfully, the other members were gone when he re-entered the gym, having finished their warm-ups.

It only took him a few minutes to rinse off, refreshing his mood. He washed his body while leaving his hair dry. When he came out, he changed into cargo sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He felt most comfortable rehearsing in baggy garments, allowing his body the maximum range of motion.

He folded his dirty workout gear and packed it away in the bag, then slipping into some sneakers and heading back upstairs to get something to eat. That’s where he figured he’d find the others, eating one of the private common areas.

On the way back up, he noticed some employees making their way into their respective offices. The workday was beginning. It made him think of you and how you might have been feeling that morning, not just physically, but emotionally in the aftermath of calling your parents. He decided to send you a quick text, asking how you were. He knew he would be seeing you after their rehearsal - you and Chaeyoung were coming in to take the guys' initial measurements for the tour concept.

Right as he hit send and rounded a corner, someone bumped into him. His grip on his phone slipped and it was knocked to the floor screen-down. Luckily, it turned out to be Jungkook.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jimin sighed, "Wasn't looking."

Jungkook chuckled, rubbing his shoulder, "All good. I was just coming to look for you. You don't have to tell me what you're stressing about, but I know there's something and I'm going to make sure you at least eat, so come on."

He appreciated the concern, and it was valid, though he would hate to admit it. Jimin could forget to eat sometimes when experiencing strife.

Then Jungkook's eyes went to the floor, noticing that he'd accidentally caused it to fall. He crouched down to retrieve it, making the older internally panic and rush to get to it first. Unfortunately, his friend beat him to it. Innocently wanting to make sure the screen hadn't cracked, Jungkook turned it over.

The screen hadn't yet locked. He could see the text thread between Jimin and his new girlfriend and it made him smirk as he stood up, prepared to unleash some good-natured teasing.

Jimin’s stomach felt like it could have fallen out of his body. He tried to snatch it back, but it only made matters worse. It only confirmed that there was something to hide. With alarmed eyes, he surveyed their surroundings to make sure no one was seeing this.

Jungkook’s brows became furrowed as he scrolled a bit. It was nosy, sure, but he had to know what his brother was hiding. It was painfully clear that something wasn’t right. What he read made no sense to him, but then he saw a black and white photo.

The millisecond he realized, his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets. Jimin went rigid. He could feel his pulse in his throat.

It was nothing less than a blessing that Namjoon suddenly appeared, startling the youngest member into locking the phone and handing it back to its owner.

The two remained stuck in some form of telepathic eye contact. With a baffled gaze, Jungkook’s face was screaming out the question. Jimin had his lips pressed together and jaw tight, eyes begging him not to say anything.

The leader looked back and forth between them, “Hello? Everyone good?”

Jungkook realized his hands were tied. He couldn’t simply obliterate this giant beast of a secret out in this public hallway. He nodded his head, “Y-Yeah, all good.”

The panicking member was caught red handed. He shoved his phone back into his pocket, faking an unperturbed smile, “We’re fine. He just came to see if I was coming to eat.”

Namjoon wasn’t buying it. This was the last straw. Jimin wasn’t okay. There was something he wasn’t being open about. Even so, this wasn’t the time or place, “Yeah, come eat with us. You had a long run.”

As a threesome, they headed into the room that held the other members, all snacking on energy-packed foods to fuel them later on. Jimin joined them, but had no appetite whatsoever. His mind was too preoccupied with trepidation to send hunger signals. Jungkook knew the biggest secret he'd ever kept from any of them. He needed to do whatever he could to ensure he wouldn't divulge.

During the dance practice, he wasn't nearly as focused. He and Jungkook kept making eye contact in the mirror, breaking one another's concentration repeatedly. It made the rehearsal drone on, as they kept messing up the choreography. One wanted a code of silence, while the other felt like he needed to shout.

The physical labor ended after a couple of hours. When it was done, the members had a quick breather to cool off. After about fifteen minutes, you and Chaeyoung entered the room with your measuring tapes draped from your necks. Whenever you and Jimin were in the same room at work, you both made conscious efforts not to pay special attention to each other. The other members took stock of how good the two of you were at hiding your feelings.

However, when Jimin noticed you walking over to Jungkook to take his measurements, he couldn’t stop himself from looking.

You smiled at the man, who looked somewhat perplexed by you, “Hey, Jungkook. How are you?”

His eyes darted from Jimin and then back to you, “Uh, great, Y/N…How are you feeling? I mean, how are you?”

Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend’s stern gaze shot upon him for that slip of the tongue.

You took the tape measure off your neck and began to wrap it around his torso, “Not too bad. Busy these days. I hardly have time for anything else.”

“I’m sure you are,” he said, well aware that Jimin was listening, “But even if you’re busy, it’s important to still make time for other things in life, like friends. Friends are so important, you know? I bet they’d be able to help you cope with whatever you’re struggling with, but only if you reach out. If you don’t, then what’s the point of even having them?”

It wasn’t a message directed toward you. The intended recipient, however, got the message loud and clear, and it vexed him. What did he think he was doing, using you to prove a point like that?

While making note of his measurements, you looked at him, lost, “Um, yeah. I guess that’s true.”

It was awkward, but there wasn’t much time to ponder about it. You and Chaeyoung had to get this information down quickly, before the guys had to run off somewhere else. She was busy taking Yoongi’s.

When you were done with Jungkook, you moved on to Jimin, only because you had to move quickly and Chaeyoung looked like she was going to do Taehyung’s next. He was the closest to you, so he was the natural next in line.

You grinned at him, “Hi.”

As was routine, he lifted his arms a bit so you could measure his midsection. You were already paying close attention to the tiny numbers on your tape when he greeted you back, shooting Jungkook a glare, “Hey.”

He thought about whispering a warning to you about the current situation, but decided not to. It would only freak you out.

Instead, he asked as you removed the tape from his torso and wrapped it around his biceps, “Did you get my text?”

Even though he kept his voice low, you hesitated to answer, “Yeah. I’m alright, just a little…bummed.”

The look on your face told him you were far more than bummed, “I called mine earlier.”

Your stomach did a flip, but you played it off as if you were having a casual conversation, using a muted voice, “How did that go?”

Jimin shrugged, smiling softly, “Honestly, not bad. I’ll tell you about it later.”

You nodded, recording his updated measurements on your notepad. In light of his parents' wisdom, your unwillingness to indicate that you were involved with him upset him. He wasn't frustrated with you personally, but with the situation itself. It crashed into him like never before - his love, the mother of his child, had to pretend she hardly knew him. And although he knew the reasons, it truly disturbed his conscience for the first time.

When you and Chaeyoung had collected all that you needed, you left. Yoongi and Namjoon went up to their studios to write, Hoseok following suit to record a demo. Taehyung and Jin went to a vocal lesson.

Jimin and Jungkook remained in the room together, much to the dismay of both. The former was firmly planted in one spot with no idea what to say or do. He wanted to rebuke the younger for speaking so candidly and thoughtlessly with you - that was far too hazardous for his comfort. Yet, he was at a loss. How could he be one to talk, when it had just been revealed that he'd been keeping something so enormous from them all?

Jungkook looked around the room, hands on his hips. The quick survey assured him that no one would hear them. He shook his head, tone surprisingly calm, "Hyung, I'm begging you to be honest now. I swear, if you try to squirm your way out of this I will kill you."

The older accepted his fate, but this place was nowhere near secure enough to have this discussion.

"Is Y/N-"

"No," Jimin stopped him, frazzled and alarmed, "Don't finish that question yet. I'll tell you everything, just not here. Please."

His eyes were so desperate that they bent the will of the other man. Jungkook pursed his lips together, annoyed to hell and back but still understanding, "Fine. Your place, then. Now."

Both men tossed their bags by the door once they got into Jimin's apartment, one out of aggravation, and the other with dread.

Not a word was spoken as they naturally gravitated toward the living room. Jimin waited to see where Jungkook was going to sit, so that he could sit opposite of him.

Both men got settled into a seat, wondering how this conversation was going to go. They were silent for a brief moment, collecting themselves so they could speak like adults.

Jungkook leaned forward, letting his forearms rest on his thighs. He was biting his tongue, giving it his all to approach this matter calmly, even though he was irate. He wanted to believe it wasn't true. There was no way Jimin could have done something like this, nevermind keep it from all of them. If this was what had been going on with him all that time, then he had to have known for a while. It would have been weeks of dishonesty - all those times he told them nothing was the matter.

The younger inhaled through his nose, "I feel like I don't even need to ask it now. We both know the topic at hand. Just tell me."

Jimin nodded for a moment without saying anything, looking anywhere but in his friend's eyes, "She's pregnant."

It was one thing to have seen the sonogram, but it was quite another to actually hear it come from his mouth. Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose, "How far along is she?"

"Nine weeks," he replied, "I found out the night before we went to Jin's."

"So you have known for a while," Jungkook's suspicion was confirmed, "Why didn't you tell us sooner, hyung? God, this is...this is fucking huge."

The older huffed, throwing his hands up in irritation, "I don't know, maybe because this has been a crazy time for me and Y/N. I mean, put yourself in my shoes. Would your first priority be telling everyone? We have been literally just trying to make it through each day."

Jungkook took a deep breath, collecting his emotions. If the situation was reversed, Jimin would be nothing but supportive. He had to be smart about how he reacted to this news.

"Look," he said with a softening tone, "I didn't mean it that to come off like a judgment. I'm sorry. It's just, as your friend, I wish you'd have come to us sooner. We've been watching you struggle for the past weeks, wondering what was wrong with you. You had us convinced for a few days after telling us that you and Y/N were official, but then your strange behavior didn't go away. And to learn that this is the reason...it's a lot to take in."

Jimin dropped the defensiveness, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his stomach in some sort of self-embrace, "Believe me, I know."

"How are you doing with it?"

He shook his head a bit and let a minuscule smile break onto his face, "That's the thing I can't figure out. I don't think there's a general feeling. There have just been moments. When I'm with Y/N, I'm mostly happy about it. I feel like I wouldn't want to have a kid with anyone else. The fear creeps in when I think about everything else - our careers as BTS, the fact that she will probably get fired over this. The thought of becoming a dad doesn't scare me nearly as much as the consequences that will come from this."

For the second time that day, he became emotional. He tried to keep it concealed, but the crack of his choked voice gave it away, "I'm terrified that she will lose it all because of this. I hate that having my baby might ruin her career. I hate that for now, I have to convince the world that I'm not in love with the woman who is carrying my child. I-I can't be there for her like a real partner. I had to miss the ultrasound, and I didn't get to hear my kid's heartbeat, because I had to be at work. And I hate that when this all eventually comes to light, there will be a media frenzy on her, on me, and probably on all of you too."

A few tears started to roll down his cheeks and he buried his face in his hands, sniffling. Jungkook reflexively stood up and went over to him. He sat on the very corner of the chair and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, "Let it out. It's okay."

Jimin broke, "Everything negative in this situation has to do with me! It all traces back to the career I worked so hard to have! They always say there's a cost to fame, and we've all experienced that, but I don't know. I just never thought about this cost."

Jungkook rubbed his back, "I agree that it's your career, but don't equate that to you personally."

"How? I'm the one that chose it."

"But you just said it yourself - you never thought about this cost. That's no reason to beat yourself up," He said, "No one ever fully grasps the downsides to fame until they have it."

Jimin was settling down now, removing his hands from his wet face and drying it with his t-shirt, "It's hurting Y/N. She's been trying so hard to tell me that she's accepted the reality, but I can see it behind her eyes, Jungkook. She'll grieve the loss of her job, and I don't even want to think about her enduring all the scrutiny she will have to face."

"She has you," Jungkook offered a reassuring grin, "Now, I don't know about her family, but I know yours. They will support both of you wholeheartedly. And you'll have all of us too. You just need to tell the rest of the members."

Jimin nodded, "I know, you're right. Both of our families know now. There's no reason not to tell them. Just give me a few days to work it out with Y/N. I can't break the news without letting her know."

The younger man concurred, "That's understandable, but for your own good, consider doing it soon. I think it will take a lot of the pressure off your back, and I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by the support."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you're our brother. We will help you make it work. And you're going to be a dad. That makes us uncles, doesn't it?" Jungkook chuckled, "There's a cause for excitement in all of this."

Jimin broke into a small laugh, "I didn't think about you all being uncles. Don't know whether it's heartwarming or concerning."

"Only time will tell," Jungkook smirked, "So when's this little Park coming?"

There was a flutter in his chest at the nickname, "The doctor said January eighth."

"And everything's looking healthy so far?"

He hummed, "Yeah. Apparently, the heartbeat was unusually strong for his or her age. That made me oddly proud."

Jungkook nudged him playfully, "I mean, it only makes sense, considering how fit you are. Your sperm's probably the healthiest known to man."

He laughed harder this time, turning to give him a jestful smack on the arm. Jimin felt better now. Not great, but better. When the laughter died down, he breathed in deeply and let it out, “God, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. When I said our parents know, I meant we’ve only just told them. Mine found out this morning.”

“Shit,” the other patted him twice on the back, “How did they take it?”

“You know my mom and dad - they weren’t leaping for joy, but it wasn’t awful. It ended on a good note,” he shrugged, “I just feel like this day is giving me whiplash.”

You got into the elevator in your apartment complex, letting your head rest against the back wall as it carried you up to your floor. You had a headache and had used up the last of your over the counter painkillers. Jimin likely had some, so you figured you’d eat dinner and then go to his place.

You felt like a towel that had been wrung out, twisted and squeezed of all energy and substance. You were desperately spent. The only thing keeping you fully present, ironically, were your mood swings.

If something didn’t go according to plan at work, you felt like you wanted to punch a hole in the wall, or cry, or both. Those were the lows. On the other end of the spectrum were short bursts of sexual urges. You prayed that you’d hidden it well enough while you were measuring Jimin earlier. Getting to touch him and examine his body like that didn’t do you your raging hormones any favors.

You put your key into the lock of your door and turned it, hearing the latch open up. Then you got inside and immediately wanted to vomit, not as a side effect, but out of shock.

The lights were on, and there were two faces sitting in your living room that you hadn’t seen in a while.

Speechless for a moment, you dropped your bag and froze in your tracks, “M-Mom? Dad?”

They got up from the couch while you remained rooted in place. Your mother was the first to give you a hug, but you barely embraced her back, far too confused.

“Hi, sweetie,” she sighed, “How are you feeling today?”

Your father hugged you next, “It’s been forever since we’ve seen you.”

You were shocked. Not even twenty four hours prior, these people were scolding you and telling you how disappointed they were in you. You stared at them, totally discombobulated. Your head was pounding so hard that you felt it in the back of your eyeballs.

“What are you both doing here?” You asked, brushing past them both and going into your quaint little living room. You needed to sit.

Your parents turned around and followed you back to their original places on your sofa. You were tucked into an armchair that was perpendicular to it.

Your mother leaned on the arm of the sofa towards you, eyes full of a lukewarm concern, “We came to have a much calmer discussion about this.”

Bringing your knees up to your chest, you asked, “You came all the way here just for that? How did you even get in?”

“You gave us a copy of your key when you moved in, remember?” your father replied, “Anyway, we aren’t happy with how we reacted to the news yesterday. We’re sorry we resorted to anger.”

Your mother sighed, “We love you, Y/N. And we realize that you are a grown woman now who can make her own choices. But as your parents, we ask that you please listen to what we have to say.”

You nodded hesitantly, “O-Okay…”

She continued, “We are worried that you aren’t considering the enormity of this, and the risk you are taking by placing so much trust in this man.”

You felt a twinge of exasperation, having had a sneaking suspicion that it was going down this route.

It must have shown on your face, because your father looked a little indignant, “Your mother is right. It appears as though you aren’t thinking this through. We don’t want to see you get hurt. Park Jimin is one of the most famous men in the world. He took advantage of you, as his type often does.”

You felt like you could have spat, “He did not take advantage of me in any way. Neither of you know him well enough to assume that about him. Jimin is a good man.”

“You are a stylist at his agency,” your mother scowled, “He knew that your position would make it impossible to disclose your relationship without putting your career on the line. He used you for his own pleasures, knowing you’d never say anything to anyone.”

Your father cleared his throat and looked down, unable to imagine his daughter fornicating with anyone, let alone a member of a global sensation like BTS. A man who had women practically falling at his feet wherever he went.

Your hormones made your reaction sharper. They were talking about the man you loved, the father of your child - denigrating him to the level of a scumbag and a womanizer, "You're both so wrong about him...I don't even know what to say. I told you already, we've been together for a year. If he'd had enough of me at any point, it would have been easy for him to toss me aside, but he hasn't. I know it's not what anyone would have envisioned, but he...he loves me. And I love him."

"We aren't here to argue over whether he loves you, Y/N," he said, "Our point is that he knows damn well how his job works. He's been perfectly willing to hide you away like some impropriety all this time. What makes you so sure he won't do the same thing with you and this baby?"

"Because he-"

You paused and closed your eyes, not wanting to finish your sentence for the sake of not sounding naive. They had you cornered and you hated it.

"Because he what?" your mother looked at you with sympathy, like you were some poor foolish girl, "Because he told you so? What good are words without action?"

You were so upset and exhausted that you felt tears prick your eyes. You looked down, "It's not that simple, Mom. In this case, action will cost me my job and who knows what else. We haven't figured much out yet, but I think we both deserve some credit for being committed to this anyway. We could have easily decided not to go through with this, but we did because we are dedicated to each other."

Your father put his hands on his knees, "And even if that is true, how will he ever be able to be there for you? I won't have my little girl stuck raising a baby alone while he galivants around the world and across every red carpet that would have him."

An angry tear rolled down your cheek, "He's not like that. I don't know how else I can convince you guys. Jimin understands the importance of being present."

"He missed the ultrasound." he said.

You shook your head, eyes closed, "Only because it was right after we found out and it was too late to change plans."

"Then will he plan on being at the next one?" your mother asked, crossing her arms.

You hugged your knees to your chest, "Yes, he will. We have a date scheduled in August."

She raised her brows, "You're telling us he will show up to a public doctor's office and risk exposing this?"

"W-Well, no. It's going to be at his apartment."

Your father scoffed, "You see? He's going to keep you and this baby a secret."

You were seething, "You know what? Yes, we are going to keep this a secret for as long as we can, because neither of us needs the media storming us while we're still trying to figure out our lives. Who would want to put themselves through that? But we've already agreed that it can't last forever - we just haven't worked out when we will take the step to tell the company and make an announcement."

Your mother reached out and put her hand on your knee, "Sweetie, we're trying to look after you, and our grandchild. We want you both to have a stable home environment."

"Well then what do you suggest we do?!" you shook out of her touch by standing up out of the chair, "It's clear that you guys won't be satisfied either way. We could keep it a secret forever or we could go public today - you'll continue to believe that he won't be there for me and that this is all a bad idea. So what? Would you rather me get an abortion or something?"

They were silent, looking at each other. You were a horrible mix of furious and embarrassed. It wasn't your intention to get so heated. You stubbornly defended your relationship, but you couldn't deny that their concerns were valid. You thought about the child in your belly. If you were standing in your parents' shoes, you'd probably have reservations too.

Then your mother looked back at you. She stood up and placed her hands on your upper arms, tone subdued, "We want you to move back home."

You were wiping tears from your eyes as you drove. It was dark outside now. Your parents got back on the road, and you followed suit. As you passed under every traffic light, you kept telling yourself to hold out just a little longer. You'd be there soon.

After pulling into the lot and parking your car, you glanced to your left, where the green-wrapped present sat in the passenger seat. Sniffling, you dried your eyes one last time and grabbed it, taking it with you into the building. You were walking with a quick gait, anguished and itching for some comfort. Fortunately, the gift in the box had the potential to bring you the solace you needed.

You took the same elevator as normal. When you reached the door, you fumbled in your pocket for the key, balancing the gift box on your thigh momentarily.

The door opened, and you heard something in the kitchen. He typically ate dinner around this time. When you appeared, he seemed delighted, but then he noticed the slight puffiness of your eyes. It was a confusing sight - you standing there upset while holding a gift.

"Hey," he put his wooden spatula down and turned down the heat on the stove so that his fried rice wouldn't burn, "What happened, sweetheart?"

He gave you a kiss on the cheek and searched the features of your face as you sighed, "Hi. I just had the longest, weirdest day."

You placed the gift down on a nearby stool and finally let yourself melt into his arms. Jimin kissed the top of your head repeatedly, "I did too."

You pulled your head off of his chest so you could look at his eyes. He was giving you an assured smile, but you still wanted to know what went on, "How come?"

His lips found your forehead before he brought you into his loving hold again, "Well, as you know, I told my parents about the baby, and then Jungkook found out by accident."

This time, you drew away from the hug completely, "Wait, say that again?”

Jimin scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah. I dropped my phone and he saw the sonogram photo.”

He saw how worried you looked and smiled, taking your hands loosely, “Don’t worry, he’s not going to tell the others. But this probably means we need to come clean soon.

You nodded, “Yeah, we should. I know it’s been hard for you keep it from them.”

“It has, but that’s a conversation for later. Tell me what’s wrong. You’ve been crying.” His eyes were plagued with distress.

“I…” you didn’t know how to start, “I got home from work and my parents were there.”

He dropped your hands, “What?”

You put you hand to your forehead, “Ugh, my head is killing me. Yeah, I walked in the door and they were just sitting waiting for me.”

Without you having to ask, Jimin turned around and headed to one of the cabinets, where he kept any medicines. As he prepared a glass of water for you to take the pills, he felt a pit in his stomach. This didn’t sound good.

“Were they that upset about yesterday?” he asked.

You took the glass of water when he offered it to you, holding out your hand to receive the capsules, “Not exactly. They came to have a better discussion about it…Only it didn’t really go that way.”

“Ah,” the hurt on his face was clear, “They still think it’s a bad idea, huh?”

There was no way you were going to elaborate on all that they said. You didn’t want to damage his feelings any further. You merely nodded, “I’m afraid so, but it’s more than that. They want me to move back home.”

He had only just started to stir his dinner on the stove again when he ceased any movement. The pit in his stomach deepened into an abyss, eyes leaking with dread as he looked at you, “But they live on the other side of the country, right?”

He couldn’t lose you. If you left, you’d be taking his child with you. And then what? How would you be able to stay together as a couple with that amount of distance? Everything you’d built over the past twelve months could crumble.

You saw how alarmed he was by the prospect and put him to ease immediately, “Yes, but I’m not going of course.”

He put his hand over his heart and exhaled, shaking his head a little, “God, please open with that next time instead of letting me think the worst.”

“Sorry,” you smiled softly before recounting their reasoning, “They say it would be best for me and the baby. I’d quit my job and live with them for a while. They think it’s the only way to guarantee a secure home environment.”

His expression could have broken your heart, and it was only scratching the surface of what your parents had said to you. Jimin kept stirring the rice, turning the heat back up a little bit. You knew him well enough to see that his avoidance of eye contact was due to a wound.

You took off your shoes and tossed them back by the door before coming to wrap your arms around him. Your cheek made its home on his sturdy back, "I'm sorry. They just don't know you yet. They haven't seen what this really is."

He sighed, his shoulders slouching. "I know. That's why I want to meet them and you to meet mine. I understand why your parents feel the way they do. And I know you're leaving a lot out to spare my feelings. That doesn't make it fun to hear, but I get it."

You held him tighter, "Then we'll find a time to meet each other's. Maybe even at the same time."

Jimin let out a subtle chuckle at the notion, and then went back to serious, "And you? Do you still believe that I can provide a secure home environment?"

You stopped hugging him, instead joining him at his side, leaning against the counter so that you could look him in his eyes, "I've had a little while to think about it. I think that the environment this baby enters will never be a normal one. You could quit BTS right now and the fame will always follow you. That automatically makes for an abnormal upbringing. But that doesn't mean we can't do things to mitigate that, and that doesn't mean we can't raise a healthy, happy child. Above all, it doesn't mean he or she will lack security. Jimin, you're one of the most loving people I've ever known."

A hint of a grin began to form on his lips. You put your hand on your still flat tummy, "Whoever is in here will feel your love and support every day. Because that's just who you are."

His smile became a little bigger, "'Who I am' feels more complete whenever you're around. Thank you."

You pushed yourself from the counter and craned your neck upward so you could kiss him, "You're welcome. Now did you make any extra for me? I haven't eaten yet."

He smirked and pecked your lips once more, "Yes, there will be enough. Grab a couple bowls, it's about done."

He dished out the meal for two and you ate in the living room, sitting on the floor and using the coffee table as the surface. It tasted like heaven to you, but you were mindful to eat it slowly for the good of your gut.

"Mm," Jimin's eyes went wide suddenly, "I didn't tell you about my parents."

You swallowed, "Oh, right. How was that?"

"Like I said earlier, not bad. They were shocked and I got chided a little bit, but I hung up feeling a deeper sense of purpose," he explained, "And I want to share it with you if it's alright."

You were intrigued by the uptick in his mood, "Yeah, please."

"They made me realize that I, and possibly the two of us together, have been so terrified to tell the company because of the consequences to ourselves. But those consequences are necessary if we want what's best for our child, so we don't have to see it as some horrible doom coming our way," he studied your face to see if it was making sense, "All I'm trying to say is that we shouldn't see it as this awful storm cloud hanging over our heads. That doesn't mean it won't be hard or painful for us, but we can at least take comfort in that we'll be doing right by our little one."

You smiled, "I like that way of thinking. You know, after seeing the ultrasound, I felt something of a bond form. I'd do anything if it meant he or she was saved from hurt, and I know we both agree that the secrecy would hurt."

Jimin nodded, "Exactly. You're such an incredible mother already, baby. I can't wait to have Doctor Yoon come here for the next scan. I hope I feel the same thing you did."

That reminded you - the gift.

"Oh!" you stood up, "One second."

He was puzzled for a moment, but then you re-entered the living room with the green present in your arms and an eager look on your face. When you first got here, he'd been so caught up trying to figure out what was wrong that he'd totally forgotten about this.

He grinned curiously, "Oh yeah, what's this for?"

You sat beside him on the floor and put it between the two of you, "For you."

He laughed, "But why?"

You shrugged, "You'll see when you open it."

He took one last bite of fried rice and then set his bowl aside. He removed the white bow first and then began to rip the paper off the box. His brows knit together as the item inside gradually became visible. You were pressing your lips together in anticipation.

When the wrapping was fully removed, Jimin read the outside of the box. Shortly, he was looking at you again, eyes spilling over with exuberance. You couldn't hold back the same expression.

You giggled at his speechlessness, "A fetal doppler, so you can hear the heartbeat."

"Y/N," he was beaming down at the box, "I don't even know what to say. Thank you."

You nodded, "I know you felt like you were missing out. With this, you can listen whenever you want. No need to wait for a doctor's appointment."

"Can we try it now?"

You grinned, "That's what I was hoping you'd say."

He shot up, taking the box and your hand with him. You laughed as you were tugged along into his bedroom. You both sat on the bed and he flipped his nightstand lamp on, giving the space adequate yet dim lighting.

You worked together to free the small machine from its encasing, discarding any extra wrappings. It came with a small monitor that would show the heart rate and had a button panel for volume control. It was attached to a cord with a wand at the other end. Separately was a tube of gel, similar to what Doctor Yoon used at your appointment.

It came with the right batteries inside, so all you had to do was turn it on and go for it.

You laid back on the bed, adjusting your pants so the wand could access the right location. You smiled and pointed at the tube of gel, "Okay, take a little bit of the gel and put it right here."

Jimin couldn't believe he was doing this, but he couldn't be more excited. He carefully squirted a good amount of the substance on your skin, "Now what?"

You giggled, "Just turn it on and use the wand to spread it around."

He found the power button on the side of the monitor and pushed it, making the small screen light up. Before placing the wand on your belly, he made sure the volume was turned up. Then he laid on his side next you you, head propped up resting in his palm.

When the wand first made contact with your skin, there was hardly any sound. Thankfully, it only took a few seconds of spreading the gel around to start to hear something.

Jimin's features were fully alert instantly. He found the right spot and held it there, enthralled by the pulsing sound. His lips parted slightly as he stayed in a state of motionless elation. When it finally began to register, he broke into a joyous smile, "Oh my God, there it is!"

You laughed, basking in his happiness, "It sounds just as strong as it was before."

The immense weight of the day was lifted from him. He leaned closer to your belly, keeping the wand in place, "H-Hi, baby. It's Daddy. I hear you now."

You were overflowing with adoration for this man. Once you saw his brown eyes glisten with gleeful tears, you began to get choked up as well. He couldn't help it. In fact, he didn't even realize it was happening until one streak came down his face. All that you'd both been through in the past month, and all that you would go through in the months to come - it would all be unimaginably rewarded when the owner of this precious heartbeat came into the world.

Jimin wiped the tear from his cheek and sniffled, turning his focus to you now, "Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you so much. This is…it means everything to me.”

You grinned contentedly, “It does for me too.”

The two of you listened some more. The thumping was persistent and even. You daydreamed in your own minds, alleviating yourselves of any stress, even if it was just for this one moment.

He laughed, “I can’t believe we made this little heart together. You might come to regret giving me this.”

“You love it that much, huh?” you giggled.

“I wont be able to get enough of it.”

“That’s okay,” you said, “It gives me an excuse to come over more often.”

He hummed at the idea, still intently focused on the sight of your exposed abdomen and the sound coming through the monitor. You then watched as his blissful smile faded, and his eyes fell into a contemplative state.

His voice sounded distant as the gears were turning in his mind, “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“When is the lease on your apartment up?”

#angst #jimin x reader #bts #fanfic #jimin #park jimin #romance #bts fanfic #bts fic #established rp #pregnant #jimin fluff #fluff #jimin angst

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