Ratio had always prided himself on his sharp intellect, his ability to solve even the most complex of problems with a mere glance. But as he stood just outside the library’s archway, listening to the whispered confession escaping your lips, he found himself at a loss.
“I know he’s arrogant,” you murmured to a friend, a book clutched tightly to your chest, “and he talks like he has all the answers. But… I can’t help it. There’s something about him. The way he sees things, the way he challenges everything… I admire him.”
His name was never spoken, but there was no doubt who you were talking about.
Ratio stepped into the library, his usual composed expression giving away nothing. “It’s a shame,” he said, making you stiffen. “For someone so observant, you fail to recognize the most obvious of truths.”
You turned sharply, eyes wide. “What—”
He stepped closer, voice dropping into something softer, something edged with amusement. “You assume admiration is one-sided?” His piercing gaze met yours. “Perhaps, if you were to look at the variables again, you would see the solution has always been within reach.”
You blinked, heartbeat racing. “Are you saying…?”
Ratio smirked. “I’m saying, if you were to confess again—this time to my face—I might just be inclined to give you the answer you’re hoping for.”
Sampo had an uncanny ability to be exactly where he wasn’t supposed to be.
Which is how he found himself eavesdropping outside a supply room, arms crossed as he listened to you, of all people, admitting something rather interesting to Natasha.
“I don’t know why I like him,” you groaned. “He’s frustrating, sneaky, and probably lying half the time—but somehow, I just… do.”
Sampo’s grin widened. Oh?
He waited a beat before dramatically pushing the door open, wearing the most innocent expression he could muster. “Well, well, well! What’s all this, huh? Talking about little old me behind my back? I’m flattered!”
You spun around, color draining from your face before returning in full force. “How long have you—?”
“Long enough!” He waggled his eyebrows. “Gotta say, sunshine, I had no idea you felt that way.”
Natasha sighed, unimpressed. “Sampo, get out.”
“Ah-ah, not before I get a proper answer!” He leaned closer, voice teasing but eyes searching. “So? You like me, huh? Care to make that official, or should I start wooing you properly?”
You groaned, covering your face. “I take it back.”
“Ah, too late! No refunds, no returns,” he chuckled. “Guess that means you’re stuck with me now.”
Aventurine always knew when people were lying. It was a skill he had honed to perfection, a survival instinct as much as a talent.
But what fascinated him more was when people told the truth without realizing it.
And tonight, as he leaned casually against the grand casino balcony, he had just stumbled upon a rather delightful little secret.
“I know he’s dangerous,” you admitted to someone, your voice lost in the buzz of music and chatter below. “But that’s what makes him so compelling. It’s like every conversation is a game, and I… I can’t help but want to play.”
His lips curled into a knowing smirk. Oh, darling, you’re more than just playing—you’re already all in.
Slipping out of the shadows, he chuckled as you jolted at his sudden presence. “Now, now. What’s this I hear? Someone’s got a little crush?”
You gasped. “You—!?”
Aventurine tilted his head, eyes gleaming with amusement. “You wound me, dearest. How could you not tell me sooner?” He tapped his chin, pretending to consider. “Should I make this interesting? A gamble, perhaps?”
Your breath caught. “What kind of gamble?”
He leaned in, voice dropping to a murmur. “A kiss, if you win.” A pause, then a smirk. “And if I win? Well, I suppose I’ll just have to take that kiss myself.”
Boothill had been called many things—reckless, ruthless, a dead man walking. But blind wasn’t one of them.
Which was why, when he overheard your conversation with an old friend in a dimly lit saloon, he wasn’t exactly surprised.
“You ever tell him?” your friend asked, swirling their drink.
You scoffed. “Tell Boothill? Please. He’d probably laugh in my face.”
At that moment, the infamous cyborg cowboy made his entrance, heavy boots clicking against the floor. “Now, sweetheart,” he drawled, teeth flashing in a shark-like grin, “what makes you think I’d do a thing like that?”
Your eyes widened in horror. “You—!? How long—!?”
Boothill tipped his hat, sliding into the seat beside you. “Long enough to hear somethin’ real interestin’.” He leaned closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Now, tell me true—was that just some whiskey talk, or do you really got a thing for me?”
You glared at your friend, who was conveniently looking the other way. “I hate you.”
Boothill just chuckled. “That ain’t an answer, sugar.”
You sighed, rubbing your temples. “And if I did?”
He smirked. “Then I reckon you just made my day a whole lot more interesting.”
Summary: Brendon Park, the shark himself, completely fucked himself over. Why couldn't he leave well enough alone? But no- he had to listen in on what that cute new emergency resident was saying and get all his hopes killed in the process.
Fandom: The Pitt
Pairing: Park the Shark x Reader
Words: 1.4K
Tags: Angst, misunderstandings, oneshot
His ortho consult was over. The patient didn't need surgery at all, so Dr. Park was already in a shitty mood from feeling like he'd wasted his time. This is why he always sent someone else to this dark pit known as the Emergency Department. He'd been doing that less and less the last few weeks. Because exactly 27 days ago, a brand new resident had started work in the ED. She was.... something else to say the least.
Initially curious why a resident was starting a new place in the middle of her R3 year, he had turned his ears to the nurses' gossip and had to admit a begrudging amount of respect formed for her quickly. The details changed depending on who told the story, but supposedly an attending at her previous hospital had gotten flirty/frisky with a patient and she had not only stepped between the attending and patient, but (again depending on who was telling it) had done anything from just cussing the man out to sending a blow so hard the man hit the floor.
Part of him almost hoped she had laid her previous attending out, if only because it meant someone working in the ED finally had balls.
He froze outside the door to the breakroom when he heard a familiar voice.
"I just don't want to go out this weekend, why are you pestering me so much?"
"Because you need to live a little! All you do is work and go home, its so boringggg."
He stopped himself, out of eyesight but not out of hearing range.
I really shouldn't be listening to this.
"Trinity I swear to god if you don't fuck off."
"Seriously though- why won't you go out with us? Are you seeing someone?"
"No."
That took a small weight off his shoulders.
"Do you like someone?"
"....No."
"You do!"
"Trin I don't-"
"You totally do! Do they work here? Is that why you won't tell me? Is it Robby?"
"No."
"Abbot?"
"Still no."
"Shen? Ellis? Oh god don't say Langdon."
"No, no, and ew no. They don't even work in our department."
"You've only been here a few weeks- how many people outside the department do you even know? It's not Garcia is it?"
"No."
"Don't tell me its the Shark?"
"Oh my god no! Absolutely not!"
Oh. Well fuck.
He took a step back. It's not that he thought his feelings were returned. Hell he barely even had feelings, it was just a crush anyways. Who wouldn't get a crush on a strong, beautiful woman who stood her ground even against the likes of him?
But hell did she have to make it sound so bad? He could practically hear the disgust in her voice. She sounded shocked Santos had even suggested his name.
Whatever. It's not like he cared anyways.
The voices faded back as he finally resumed his cold march upstairs.
"Oh my god no! Absolutely not!" As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew Trinity saw through the bullshit. It definitely didn't help that my face was bright red with embarrassment.
"It is isn't it." Trinity said with a wicked grin.
"Just please don't say anything?" I muttered, folding my arms on the table and dropping my head down on them.
"Okay okay I won't." I peeked up at her to see her hands held up in surrender. "For what it's worth- I think you should go for it. He's been down here 20x more than normal lately, and i think it has something to do with you."
I felt her hand give me a reassuring pat on the shoulder as she left the break room.
Her words stuck in my mind the rest of the shift. Trinity Santos was not one for empty platitudes. And she was pretty good atreading people.
Maybe I should go for it?
Unfortunately, the rest of the night seemed to prove her theory wrong because Dr. Park didn't come down for a single consult that shift.
Or the next.
Or the next.
The universe must hate me, of course when I finally got the courage to ask him out, he was nowhere to be found. Finally a few days later I caught him on his way out of the ED.
"Dr.Park!" I called out, eyes scrunching up in confusion when he turned around and fixed me with the same steely gaze he used on med students.
"What?" He practically barked out, causing me to flinch.
"I just wanted to ask you something, see I was wondering if you wanted to maybe grab coffee? Or drinks, really anything would be okay, up to-"
"Fat chance." He cut me off, pushing past in a hurry.
Every interaction after that went downhill. He was cold, and short, and an overall dick. Given- that was how everyone else described him, but he'd never been like that with me. Paired with the frankly rude rejection, I was five seconds from punching him every time we had to interact.
It came to a head exactly one week later.
"Sweetie the adults are talking." You could cut glass with the silence in that room after his little comment. Everyone looked uncomfortable except Park. And me. I was sure the anger was evident on my face because Robby was shaking his head at me.
I don't exactly have a track record of listening.
"What is your fucking problem?" I stepped up to him, chests brushing as my hands shook with barely contained rage.
"My problem? My problem is that you're an incompetent fuck-up who should've stayed at your last hospital." His jaw clenched as he poked me in the chest.
"Fuck you! All I did was ask you out- you didn't have to turn into Dr. Dick! I got the message, you don't like me but you're being fucking ridiculous. Hell- you don't even have the right to be upset about anything! I'm the one going through tubs of ice cream and making my poor fucking roommate listen to me lament over my crush not liking me back." I threw my hands up in the air out of frustration.
"You... huh?" He looked confused and it just pissed me off more.
"Whatever- just leave me the fuck alone." I growled, pushing past him to get out of the room before I cost myself another job with my impulsive tendencies.
I got about ten feet from the ambulance bay doors when I felt a hand on my arm.
"Give me a second." I ripped my arm out of his grasp as I turned around.
"Seriously?! Give you a second?! When you didn't even let me finish asking you out before shutting me down?" I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I put some distance between us.
"Yes! Because I thought you were joking!" He exclaimed, exasperated, as if it had been obvious.
"The fuck?"
"I thought it was a joke, or a prank or some fucking bet- you ED people are always betting on something."
"Why is that your assumption? Who in their right mind jumps to that first?" Just my luck, I had a crush on a dumbass.
"Because I heard you and Santos talking the other day." He snapped.
Oh. Oh.
"Oh- you heard her figure out my crush? But then why would you think its a joke if you heard that?"
He let out a short humorless laugh.
"I heard you scream 'absolutely not' and sound completely disgusted at the thought of liking me- so yeah I assumed it was a joke when you asked me out later that shift."
"You dumbass." I stepped a little closer to him, finally seeing all the pieces to this jagged puzzle. "You walked away after that didn't you?"
"Why would I stick around?" He seemed pissed still, but didn't stop my movements until we were just as close as we'd been in the trauma room.
"Because then you would've heard her tease me about being a bad liar, and me begging her not to tell you about my little crush." I fiddled with the neckline of his scrub top, watching to see when he got it.
"Oh. Does.... Does that mean you do like me?" He asked. And well shit if hearing Brendon Park sound so unsure didn't tug on my heartstrings a little. In lieu of an answer, I raised myself up to my tippy toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. They were slightly chapped, but surprisingly soft for a man who's entire being was sharp edges. His hands came up to rest on my hips as I slid back down to my regular height.
Feeling a little better thought I'd post something funny
(Spencer Reid x fem!reader)
The first incident had been embarrassing enough. The team walking in to find Spencer shirtless, oiled up, and groaning under your care had provided them with enough ammunition for weeks of teasing. But even with all their jokes, Spencer was still Spencer—unflappable in most situations—and you both thought the worst was behind you.
You were wrong.
Spencer came home from another grueling case, this one involving multiple days on the road and more stress than usual. He walked into your shared home looking like he was carrying the weight of the world on his slender shoulders, which you noticed were slumped with tension.
“Babe,” you said softly, crossing the room to meet him. You cupped his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. “You need another adjustment. You’re completely out of alignment again.”
He nodded without protest, too tired to argue. “You’re the best,” he murmured, letting you guide him to the office once more.
This time, you were determined to work out every knot, every misalignment. Spencer’s job might be to solve complex cases, but yours was to fix him afterward, both body and mind.
---
Meanwhile, the team, riding high after a case closed, decided once again to check in on their favorite genius. They’d teased him mercilessly last time, but Spencer’s reactions were half the fun.
“Think he’s going to yell at us this time?” Emily joked as they approached the house.
“Please,” Derek said with a grin. “Boy Wonder doesn’t yell. He pouts.”
Penelope giggled. “I just hope we get another peek at shirtless Spencer.”
“Oh my God, Garcia,” JJ muttered, laughing despite herself.
They knocked, but the door was unlocked. Derek pushed it open, calling out, “Reid! You home?”
No response.
The team wandered farther into the house, following the faint sound of conversation that led them to your office once again. As they reached the doorway, they were immediately greeted with Spencer’s voice—low, drawn-out, and laced with something suspiciously close to pleasure.
“Ohhh, God, Y/N… Right there… Do that again.”
The team froze.
“Spence, relax,” you said, your tone entirely professional. “I can’t get this spot if you keep tensing up.”
“Sorry, it just—ahhh! Oh, that’s the one,” Spencer groaned, his voice so borderline sinful that Derek and Emily exchanged wide-eyed looks.
“Is this… happening again?” JJ whispered, her hand covering her mouth.
“Guys,” Penelope hissed, fanning herself. “This is so much worse.”
But they couldn’t look away.
You were leaning over Spencer, your hands pressing into his back with practiced precision. This time, though, the team wasn’t met with just the sight of an oiled-up Spencer—they also heard the unmistakable, sharp crack of his spine realigning.
“Oh, wow,” Rossi muttered from the back of the group, clearly impressed despite himself.
“Holy… Did you hear that?” Emily whispered, her tone oddly fascinated.
“That sounded so satisfying,” Penelope admitted, biting her lip as another crack echoed through the room, followed by Spencer’s drawn-out groan of relief.
“Stop enjoying this so much,” JJ hissed, though her eyes remained glued to the scene.
Another series of cracks came, each one louder than the last, and the team collectively shuddered. It was oddly satisfying to hear, even as the situation screamed awkward.
Finally, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye and turned, your hands still on Spencer’s shoulder blades. “Oh, come on!” you exclaimed, glaring at the group.
Spencer lifted his head from the table, a blush already creeping up his neck. “Are you serious?”
“Listen,” Derek said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I came here to clown on you, but I gotta admit—that cracking sound is amazing.”
“You guys have to stop walking in on us,” you said, gesturing at the door.
“You have to stop making it sound like—like that!” Emily shot back, pointing at Spencer, who groaned in embarrassment and dropped his face back into the cradle.
“You all clearly need to leave,” you said firmly, stepping back from the table and crossing your arms.
But Penelope clasped her hands together. “Y/N, just one question before we go.”
“What?” you asked, exasperated.
“Do you take appointments?”
"OUT!"
Spencer groaned louder, and this time, they burst out laughing.
