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astrophileous · 1 year

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A Well-Kept Secret

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.

Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5900-ish

Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞

Criminal Minds Masterlist

When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.

The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.

After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.

And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.

As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.

"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."

"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"

"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."

"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.

"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."

"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.

"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."

Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.

"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"

"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.

"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.

"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."

"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.

"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."

"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.

"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"

"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"

"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"

"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"

"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"

"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"

When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.

"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"

Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.

"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.

JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."

"In the waiting room by the pantry--"

Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.

"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.

The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.

Almost.

At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.

Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.

Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.

At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.

But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.

"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.

"Sweetheart."

At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.

Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.

Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.

"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.

"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.

"Spencer, what are you... How..."

"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"

You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.

Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.

That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.

"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"

"Wait, what? You were shot?"

"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.

"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."

"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."

And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.

"Uh, Spence?"

The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.

Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.

"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.

The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."

After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.

He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.

"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"

Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.

"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."

"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."

"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."

The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.

"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"

"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."

"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."

Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.

"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.

Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"

"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."

"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"

"I followed Nick into his office."

Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.

"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."

You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.

"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."

Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.

"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."

Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.

"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.

Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."

"Good. That's good."

"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"

Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."

The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.

Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."

"What?"

"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."

Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.

"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."

"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."

A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.

Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.

Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.

And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.

Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."

"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"

"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.

He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.

"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."

Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"

"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."

Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.

A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.

"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."

Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.

Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.

"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.

"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"

You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.

Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.

By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.

None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.

As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.

"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.

Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.

The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.

"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."

Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.

But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.

"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"

"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.

It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.

If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.

"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.

"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"

They all stared at each other in hesitation.

"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"

"I don't remember," JJ answered.

"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.

"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.

"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.

"Alright. Says here that her name is..."

JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.

"Yes?"

Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.

"You!" JJ exclaimed.

"Me?"

Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.

"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.

"That's me."

"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.

"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"

"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.

Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."

The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"

"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."

Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"

Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.

"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"

You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.

"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.

Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.

"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"

Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.

It's time.

"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."

"She's my wife."

You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.

In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.

"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.

"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.

"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.

"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"

And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.

"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.

Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.

"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.

At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"

"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.

It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.

But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.

"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."

Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.

But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.

"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.

"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.

"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.

"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."

Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"

"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."

"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.

Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."

"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."

"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.

That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.

"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."

"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.

"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"

"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."

Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.

"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.

"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."

"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."

"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."

"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.

The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.

"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.

"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."

Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.

Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.

The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.

"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"

"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.

"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."

"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."

"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"

"Will do," you promised.

You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.

"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"

"I think it went as well as it could."

"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"

Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."

"Really?"

"Really."

Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.

"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.

"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."

Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.

But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.

And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.

Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.

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confused-pyramid · 4 months

Text

Coming Up For Air | s1

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, death of a spouse, slow slow slow burn, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 1x01, 1x06, 1x07, 1x08, 1x15, 1x16, and 1x22

a/n: I started rewatching Criminal Minds from the beginning, and this is what came out of it heh. This is the first part in a little series I'm starting that follows Hotch and his childhood best friend in the BAU, beginning with the pilot. If all goes well, this will continue through the rest of the show, with ~1 part per season :) Title is from Coming up for air by Signals in Smoke

series masterlist

You haven't used your oven in over a year. It's not that you don't like cooking - because you do - you just haven't had the time. If you could, you would blame it on the extra hours you have had to put in after starting at the BAU, but that wouldn't be fair. Your transfer to the unit was the only thing that got you through his death at all.

After your husband was shot and killed in action while tailing a kingpin of one of the New York mobs, you couldn't bear to be in this house at all. You had gone back home to stay with your father for a couple of months, but eventually you had to get back to your real life. With a month remaining on your bureau-mandated leave, you returned to the home you had shared, before one of the lower-level mob soldiers misfired -

You didn't let yourself think about it for almost a year, but time heals all wounds. The poets were right. At least you hope they are.

Even back at home, you still couldn't bear to be there alone, other than when you were sleeping. That's why your peloton was gathering dust and your kitchen went untouched, until just now.

So, of course, the call from the office comes when you're making dinner. It takes five minutes to change into slacks and a button-up, and two more to toss your half-cooked vegetables in the trash, before driving down to headquarters.

A fourth girl has been taken in Seattle, and the local PD only now decided to invite your team. You know the BAU isn't well-liked by the other departments, but that doesn't mean you aren't effective.

When you enter the building, you rush through the I.D. check and jog over to the lecture hall, where Morgan and Reid are standing outside of a neighboring office like children waiting for their father to come and get them.

Shooting them both a thin-lipped smile, you step inside just as they finish discussing the unsub's pattern.

"They want you back in the saddle," Hotch says to the man beside him after greeting you with a nod.

Your eyes are so immediately drawn to Hotch that it takes you a moment to realize that you recognize the man standing next to him. You haven't seen him since the day you were assigned to the BAU, mostly because you were technically transferred to this unit because of his extended leave.

What was supposed to be one month became six, before Hotch informed you that your temporary placement would be permanent, if you were willing to stay in Virginia.

It was a no-brainer.

You turn your gaze to Jason Gideon as everyone in the room stares at him expectantly. He looks self-assured, but you're sure the confidence is a front. "They sure they want me?"

"The order came from the director," Hotch says simply.

"Well," Gideon states, "we'd better get started, then."

Hotch glances over at you as everyone files out of the room and you raise your eyebrows momentarily, a quick check-in between the two of you. He nods imperceptibly and it's enough for now. He didn't tell you Gideon was coming back today, but now isn't the time to give him hell for that.

***

Hotch is the last to board the plane, and he takes his usual seat beside you, this time in the aisle, a few rows away from the rest of the team.

"I was going to tell you," he says as soon as you close the case file in your hands. "The section chief wants me to evaluate him to see if he's ready to return to the team."

"That's a lot of pressure." They have to know that Gideon will be able to smell him out within the day. "You sure it won't get in the way?"

Hotch makes that face you hate, the one that says he knows you're deflecting. "I was going to tell you."

It doesn't take much for you to forgive him. It helps that you trust him completely, especially after everything he has done for you.

"Still," you smile, bumping his shoulder with yours, "it would have been nice to know about the sudden change to my job security."

You're mostly joking, but his frown is genuine. "Don't be silly. You'll always have a place on this team."

He takes everything so seriously these days. You suppose it's only fair, given the files he has to sort through on a daily basis. Picking which case deserves the team's attention the most.

But he wasn't always like this. You're the newest member of the team, but you've known Hotch longer than any of them.

You still remember the first time you met him, at eight years old. He was your first real friend at school, and you became inseparable easily. Your shared love for The Beatles and Law and Order made you fast friends, and as you grew older, your interests shifted in tandem.

Sometimes when you look at him, you still see that little boy who knew too much, but still managed to always make you laugh.

***

The team disperses soon after you land in Seattle. You've never had to come up with a profile in one afternoon, but it's also been a long time since your ticking clock to find the victim was just over a day.

When Gideon and Morgan head to the latest crime scene, you join Hotch and Reid to interview the victim's brother. The moment the three of you step into his house, his dog, Sandy, starts barking up a storm.

"It's what we call the Reid effect," Hotch smiles, walking over to pet her. "Happens with children, too."

You can't help but smile as well, peering over at Spencer, who looks about as uncomfortable as he usually does.

It doesn't escape your notice that the brother looks looser now. Hotch has a way with people that traces back to his childhood self. He was always wiser than his years, something you chalk up to his need to grow up faster than he should have, but his paternal instinct comes from practically raising his brother, Sean, after his dad's untimely death.

The casual interview reveals enough about the victimology that when you head back to the station, Gideon calls the officers in to explain the profile.

You can feel Morgan's agitation wafting off of him as he watches Gideon state his assumptions with startling clarity and confidence. Hotch, on the other hand, looks contemplative, which reminds you that he's been tasked with the returning agent's evaluation.

He can see your furtive glances in his direction, even as you try to remain secretive about your interest in his demeanor. He presses his lips together to keep from smiling as he thinks about how lucky you are that you went into profiling and not covert operations.

You have never been especially good at keeping your own thoughts or intentions to yourself around him. While some would call that a weakness in this field, he sees it as your greatest strength, because it clearly shows how much he can trust you.

As a kid, you were outspoken about every idea you had, and you used your strength and willpower to look out for him when he needed it. It took him a long time to admit how much he used to need you (maybe too long), but you always knew.

***

Gideon's profile leads to the arrest of Richard Slessman and Tim Vogel, and Elle manages to save the last girl while she's still alive. You catch your breath for the first time in 36 hours as you stand with Hotch in the shipyard, watching the paramedics and local police clear the scene.

"What are you going to tell them?" you ask under your breath as his gaze turns to Gideon, who is getting patched up in the back of an ambulance.

He had goaded the unsub into shooting him instead of the girl, but your mind can't seem to focus on the silver lining.

Hotch sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, as though to hold his coat closed against the breeze. "They want to know if he's fit to be a field agent again."

Normally, you would give him shit for using that tactic. Avoiding a question by providing more information. This time, you know he's just thinking out loud.

"What would you say?" Hotch asks as Morgan walks over and sits on a barrel next to you.

"Gideon saved her life," Derek shrugs, his eyes flashing to you for a moment. "That's good enough for me."

Hotch seems to ponder this for a second. "Do you know what Gideon means in Hebrew?"

"Mighty warrior," Reid interjects, popping in to the conversation with the subtlety of a tiger.

You're confused at first, but then you remember the baby names book that was sitting in Hotch's living room the last time you visited him. "You cannot let Haley name your child Gideon."

Hotch laughs suddenly, and you can tell you surprised it out of him. Your chest warms comfortably as he smiles, his cheeks flushing softly in the chill air.

He looks over at Gideon again, deciding in real time that he's going to recommend him to come back to the team. He would never admit it to you or anyone, but he knows that if your position on the team was in jeopardy from Gideon's return, he wouldn't have been able to complete his evaluation fairly.

It was Hotch who recommended you for the open position after he was promoted into Gideon's role as unit chief. You deserved the spot, of course, but Jeff's death had still been fresh and he knew better than most how much the job can take one's mind off of the other aspects of their life.

While Hotch watches Gideon, you watch him. You can tell from the look on his face that it's a done deal. Jason's coming back to the team. It will be a change of pace for everyone, but that doesn't mean it won't be good.

Having joined the team right after the bombing, you saw exactly how Gideon changed after getting the profile wrong, but so did everyone else. What people didn't talk about was how Aaron changed too. Rising into the rank. Growing to fill the hole that Gideon left in the unit, but somehow also shrinking into himself at the same time, because that's what this job does to you...it takes and it takes and it takes until you have nothing left to give.

But sometimes that's what you need: to give something up so you know you aren't losing everything.

***

Gideon settles into the team faster than you anticipated, and soon it's almost like he never left. Even though you can see the vein on Morgan's neck pulsate every time he hijacks a profile, you can't help but appreciate the support he gives to Spencer and Elle, both of whom are becoming incredible profilers before your very eyes.

That's also why you find yourself a little worried when Hotch tells you that Reid failed his weapons recertification.

"I thought you said you were helping him practice," you say as the two of you walk past security and toward the bullpen.

"I was," he emphasizes, before correcting himself, "I did. I'm sure he was just nervous."

You nod, pushing open the doors and spotting Reid sitting quietly at his desk. "He can test again in two weeks. He'll be fine."

When Morgan hands him a whistle with a quippy joke, you sigh into your coffee tumbler, but don't bother stepping in. He's being childish, but if you try to intervene, it'll just embarrass Spencer more.

"Okay," JJ starts, "Franklin Park, Des Plaines. Yesterday afternoon."

She dives into the case, but you have already read the file (and you know Reid has too) so you scoot your chair over to his desk and lean forward so only he can hear you. "I failed my first weapons certification at the bureau too."

Spencer looks up immediately, his face colored with surprise. "Really? You're one of the best shots I know."

You smile with a shrug. "The tests aren't real life. When it comes down to it, I get the job done. Just like you will."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, but then his lips curve up into a small smile. You both turn your attention back to the front just as JJ finishes explaining the case details.

"Wheels up in 30."

The flight to Illinois is filled with heated discussions about the bureau's fruitless history of trying to profile long distance serial killers.

"L. D. S. K.s are so rare, we haven't been able to build a standard profile," Hotch explains as the jet reaches cruising altitude.

Gideon chimes in immediately. "Here's what we do know: they're always male, and they frequently have law enforcement or military experience, and they always contact the police or the media."

Elle looks confused and you echo her sentiment as you lean your hip against her armrest. "To take credit or relive the experience?"

"Both," he says simply. "All serial killers attempt to relive the ecstasy they get from their killings. Some use souvenirs taken from the victims, and others return to the dump site to interact with the body. Both modes require contact with the victim, contact which, by definition, long distance serial killers don't have."

"Our unsub hasn't contacted anybody," you point out. "What do we do until then?"

"Sometimes it's not what the unsub does that reveals the profile. Sometimes it is what they do not do."

Reid glances up from the file in his lap, and you notice that he looks at Gideon first. "He doesn't kill his victims."

"Underkill's a unique signature," Hotch ponders, standing up and walking along the cabin. He only paces when he's deep in thought. "The question is, does he shoot them in the stomach intentionally just to wound them, or is he just aiming at the biggest part of the target?"

The team is silent as you take in this new analysis. You're not surprised when Gideon is the first to speak up. "Specifically, does the unsub lack the skill to make the head shot, or simply the will to take it?"

When the plane lands, you check out the last crime scene before spending the day talking to the local police and the victims' surgeons at the nearby hospital.

That night, when you check into your hotel room, the click of the door lock closing behind you is a welcome relief from the tension of the day. Many of the Des Plaines police officers were unhappy with the team's initial assessment, because it heavily implied that the unsub may have been a law enforcement official himself.

You wash your face and change into a tee shirt and a comfortable pair of sweatpants, before climbing into bed and opening the case file back up again. The rest of the team has also gone to their own rooms, but you can't help but wish you had another set of eyes looking at this with you.

As though reading your mind, a knock thuds on your door and you stand up quickly, in case it's an emergency. When you check the peephole, you see Hotch standing way too close to the door.

Unlocking it slowly so you don't startle him, you open the door to find him in still in a full suit.

"Is there a problem?" you ask immediately. "Do I need to get dressed?"

He shakes his head, glancing around the hallway so quickly that you almost miss it. "I was just looking over the profile and I wanted your opinion on some thoughts I had."

The corner of your mouth twitches and you open the door further to let him in. He doesn't miss a beat as he takes a seat on the armchair in front of your bed and flips open his notepad.

"I was thinking about the bullet we recovered on the scene," he says slowly, like he's thinking through every word he's saying.

You nod, sitting on top of the bed covers and crossing your legs under you. "Garcia called after you left the station. The bullet was a .223 fired from the M-4 variant of the M-16."

"That means he's military," Hotch says, reaching his hand out without taking his eyes off his notepad. You close the case file you had laid out and hand it to him. "M-4 is a shorter barrel than the M-16, so it's less accurate and a lot harder to fire, especially at these distances."

"This level of skill indicates specialized training. That means..."

"It means the underkill was on purpose," Hotch says, finishing your thought. "What is he trying to prove?"

You purse your lips as he sits up in the chair to give himself room to remove his jacket. His pinstriped button-down is slightly crinkled under his arms, but you can tell it was freshly ironed this morning.

"Maybe he's in a fast-paced occupation," you suggest, "which would fit with the profile that he has a big ego."

"Then we're back to law enforcement."

You lean forward, your eyes following his hands as they fidget with his cuffs and undo the buttons, one at a time. You've always been attune to every one of his movements, but maybe it's just because you've spent so much time around him.

"Hotch," you whisper-yell, snagging his attention from your case file, which he tosses back to you.

He hums and you take that as an invitation to continue speaking. "Be careful tomorrow, when you're giving the profile."

One of his eyebrows lifts and you can tell he's holding back a smile. "It's just in front of the Des Planes PD. You'll be there too."

"It's not that," you sigh, shaking your head. "Everything about this profile points to the shooter being either current or former law enforcement. I'd be surprised if they didn't take it personally."

His eyes flit up to yours, his brow furrowing. "I can handle myself."

"I'm sure you can, Hotch," you say with a breathy laugh. "Doesn't mean I don't still look out for you."

He pauses and it's like his whole body takes a beat. "I know."

***

You're talking to Dr. Landman with Derek, Elle, and Jason the next day when a gunshot rings out through the hospital. Last you checked, Hotch and Reid were in the E.R., but you haven't heard from them since you arrived.

"It's Phillip Dowd," a nurse informs you when you meet with local police outside the closed E.R. door.

After a quick call to Penelope, the profile becomes clear.

"He joined the army at 18," Gideon recites, pacing around the room in a vaguely reminiscent manner, "went to ranger school, did 6 years before being dishonorably discharged in '95 for conduct unbecoming. Obviously lied about it, joined the Arlington P. D."

"You were right," the police captain sighs. "He was a cop."

His hopeless tone is disheartening, and you find yourself upset for not the first time that your team was correct in their assessment.

After the initial commotion, the E.R. is silent except for a few muffled voices. You can't hear what's being said, but the lack of gunshots or loud noises is all that's keeping you from falling apart.

"It'll be okay," you hear whispered from next to you. You turn to see Derek, who presses his shoulder to yours briefly. "Hotch will know what to do."

You know there's nothing you can do from out here, especially with how precarious the situation inside is, but doing nothing has never been your strong suit.

"I know," you tell him, echoing your thoughts. "I just wish we could help."

Derek cocks his head at the S.W.A.T. team readying themselves to break the door down. "We can help. We need to give Hotch and the kid time to wear Dowd down."

His tone is light and you feel yourself laugh, ignoring the thickness that swells in your throat. "That shouldn't take long."

Derek bumps your arm again in a silent extension of comfort, and you mouth a silent thank you.

You can feel Gideon losing patience as he reasons with the captain, but he eventually buys them three minutes to do what they can. When the final five second countdown starts, you unconsciously hold your breath, only to be released when Hotch's voice calls through the door.

"Hold your fire!"

Your breath comes out like a gasp and you squeeze Derek's arm before rushing forward. Hotch stumbles past you with a murmur that sounds obscurely like "help Reid", so you push your way through the throng of civilians moving to escape until you see him.

"Spencer," you gasp, crouching down to help him into a standing position. You would never admit it to him, but ever since he joined the team, he's been something of a little brother to you. "What happened in here? Are you okay?"

"You were right," he says with a surprising steadiness to his voice. "I got the job done."

You don't ask what he means, knowing that Hotch will fill you in when the time is right. Instead, you decide not to fight the vaguely maternal urge rising within you and you pull him into a tight hug. It's more of a quick squeeze, because you don't want to push past his physical boundaries, but he doesn't complain, instead looking over at you with a small smile that's more than enough for now.

***

You find Hotch where the departed ambulance that patched Reid up was parked. All of the hustle and bustle of the paramedics and local police officers and bureau agents comes to a standstill as you walk over to where he's sitting on the edge of the curb.

"I heard what happened," you say as a way to announce your presence. "Can I sit?"

He nods without looking up, and you crouch down next to him, settling on the curb with your shoulder pressed to his. You can feel the tension in his muscles as he grips the sidewalk, his palms digging into the concrete like he could break through if he pressed hard enough. "Reid.."

"..is fine," you whisper, nudging him so he looks up to where Spencer and Jason are chattering excitedly. "He's more proud than anything."

He doesn't say anything, so you bump your knee against his. "I guess all of the physical training classes you made him take at the academy paid off."

He knows you know exactly what is running through his mind, so he doesn't bother trying to articulate it. Instead, he lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, and looks over at you. "Do you remember that self-defense class we took before law school?"

You're not expecting this question, and you almost laugh. "You mean the singular self-defense class you dragged me to before dawn in the summer before we started at Georgetown?"

He levels you with a look that you would think is serious if you didn't know him so well. "You don't regret it, though."

"No," you smile, your eyes blurring with emotion. That's where you met Jeff. "I don't."

He was your instructor that day. He only taught that class twice a week, between lectures at Georgetown Law, and it doesn't escape your mind that you so easily could've missed him. One day earlier or later and you never would've met him, never would've been his girlfriend, or his wife, or his widow.

Hotch remembers meeting him that day too. He had to literally come to your apartment and drag you out of bed to make the seven AM class that he had signed you both up for, and you had been grumpy the whole drive over.

There wasn't much, other than coffee, that could get you alert before eight in the morning, but the moment you walked into that gym, it was like you were wide awake. He spent the rest of the class trying not to look as the man he would later come to know as Agent Adler kept coming over to give you extra pointers, and he pretended that the coil of ice slithering up his spine was there just because he was watching out for you.

When he found out the two of you had started dating, he continued to pretend the nausea rising in his stomach was from the day-old sandwich he had had for lunch, because it wasn't fair. Especially since he was with Haley, and he was happier than he had ever been, even if the new law school course load was making it harder to see her as often as he wanted to.

But eventually, your happiness with him overpowered every protective urge he felt, and he realized that even if there was a feeling in his gut that he didn't recognize when he saw you two together, Jeff was perfectly suited for you.

***

"He's so gorgeous!" JJ coos, her hands twitching at her sides like she's trying not to reach forward and take the baby out of Haley's hands.

She brought Jack, their newborn son, in to work today to show the team, and Hotch looks prouder than you've ever seen him. "Thank you."

"If you find baldness and wrinkles attractive."

"Reid!" you chastise, swatting at him. He dodges your hands without even looking.

"Look at his widdy biddy nose," Garcia squeals, before turning to Morgan with an inquisitive look. "Don't you want one of these?"

He just laughs as he rests his chin on her shoulder. "Mm, I'll stick to practicing."

"Congratulations," Elle chimes in before returning to Gideon's side to continue discussing the new case that came in. She's always on top of things, and it's something you respect greatly about her.

"Thanks," Hotch smiles, his gaze returning to Jack after looking away for only a moment. Jack is like a siren, the way each of his little sounds or movements holds Hotch's attention so steadily. He's the most focused of all of you, but you've still never seen him this enamored. "She's amazing. I'm a little terrified."

"You're glowing," you tell Haley as the rest of the team heads to the briefing room. "How is it that you had a baby just a few weeks ago?"

"You're sweet," she smiles, before tilting her head forward. "Do you want to hold him? You're practically his aunt."

You gasp quietly, so as not to wake little Jack. "That is a title I will carry proudly. And yes, I would love to hold him."

Haley hands him to you slowly, and you make sure to support his head carefully as you cup your arms around him. He looks so much like Haley that you almost make a joke about Hotch's genes not even putting up a fight, but that nose...that nose has Hotch written all over it.

When you glance back to where the team left from, you see him turn back at the same moment and offer you an encouraging smile.

"How are you holding up?" you ask Haley, barely able to focus on your surroundings with a newborn in your arms. Maybe there is something to the siren thing.

"Jack's been incredible. He barely cries, it's kind of a godsend...but I do wish Aaron could take time off with me."

You give her what you hope is your most comforting smile. "We've been super swamped with cases here, but in all my years working with him, I have never seen him so eager to leave every night."

She laughs, a pretty sound you remember from your youth. "I know. I feel so unfair when I complain about these things, but I appreciate you humoring me."

"Not at all," you assure her, glancing back down at Jack, who is mid-yawn. "I understand completely. If I had one of these little guys, I wouldn't be able to think about anything else."

You hear her breath catch and you open your mouth to reassure her that it's fine, but she is already reaching forward to squeeze your arm. "You and Jeff would have made amazing parents."

When you both joined the bureau, you were so busy with work that kids weren't on your mind at all. It wasn't until you got settled at the BAU, and Jeff found his place with organized crime, that you even started talking about it.

You want kids, don't you?

Only a few. Maybe four or five. Yeah, five's a good number.

"I should get back to the team," you say softly, blinking away the memories.

Haley sees your face and she smiles sadly as she takes Jack back from your arms. "I'll see you soon. Tell him I'm heading home, will you?"

You nod and watch the elevator doors close in front of her, before joining the team.

***

"I can't believe you went bar hopping without me," Derek shakes his head, feigning offense as he leans so far back in his chair you're afraid it may tip over.

"I think hopping is kind of a strong word," you say, glancing over at Elle, who is perched on the edge of your desk. "We only had one bar in mind, but it closed earlier than we thought, so we went somewhere else after."

"This was a much needed girl's night," Elle grins, patting Morgan on the shoulder as he continues to pout. "We'll invite you next time."

"How was your weekend, Dr. Reid?" you ask, turning around to face him.

Spencer doesn't look up from his crossword.

You say his name again, recalling the attention of Derek and Elle, who had started talking about some trip they've been planning for what feels like months.

When he still doesn't look up, you pick up one of the BAU-provided pens on your desk and chuck it at him, just hard enough to bridge the gap between your desks, but not so hard that it hurts on impact.

"Ow!" Spencer yelps anyway, glancing up with a look that's somewhere between confusion and indignation. He picks the pen up off the ground and turns it over to see the tiny insignia on the cap. "This is FBI property."

"How was your weekend, Spencer?" you ask again, ignoring him. "Didn't you say you had some fun stuff planned?"

"I did," he lights up, instantly forgetting about the pen incident. "My local movie theater was showing reruns of the first season of the original Star Trek, so I got to experience it on the big screen."

Derek laughs and walks back over to his desk next to yours. "We have very different definitions of fun weekend plans, kid."

You're about to tell Derek that no one wants to hear what his idea of fun is when the office door upstairs flies open and Hotch and Gideon walk out.

Reid hands you back your pen, and Derek sits up in his chair so fast it's almost comical.

"We have another case," Hotch announces before coming to a stop.

Gideon takes it away. "Our unsub is male, intelligent, organized and methodical. He has the confidence of a man who's been killing for a long time."

"Only victim removed from the scene is Freddy Condore indicating some tie to him."

Hotch turns to you. "You, Elle, and Reid stay on Condore's background with Garcia. The rest of us will head to the crime scene."

You nod before standing up. "Let's go, kids."

Penelope's lair is just as eccentric as you remember it.

"Take a seat," she instructs before logging into her computer and opening up her criminal history database. "Just don't get too comfortable."

Your lips quirk up as Elle flashes her eyes at you, and you nod your head at the empty chair on Garcia's opposite side. Reid is already sitting on a desk chair by the back, spinning in aimless circles as he rattles off a list of markers to search for.

After a minute, Penelope stops typing. "Credit card receipts show Freddy loved crab cakes, preferred light beer and used to spend his Thursday nights with a woman in Fells Point."

You pick up a stress toy shaped like a tomato from one of her shelves and bounce it in your palm, just for something to occupy your hands.

"What about his associates?" Elle asks, grabbing a pen with a pom-pom on the end and poking it at Spencer's knee.

"Most of them have criminal records."

Elle glances up. "That much I guessed."

Penelope frowns, and looks pointedly at the pen in her hand.

"She's holding the tomato!" Elle complains, throwing a finger at you.

You lift up your hands in surrender, dropping the stress toy. "Thanks a lot, Greenaway."

"Anyway," Reid interrupts, to everyone's surprise, "One of these guys is particularly interesting. Pull up James Baker's rap sheet."

Penelope turns back to her computer as Spencer reads over her shoulder. "He spent time in juvenile detention for attempted murder, was released at age 21, and then subsequently arrested for, and this is in order, armed robbery, petty theft, burglary, narcotics sales, and rapе."

"What's so interesting about that?"

"When it comes to psychological behavior, anything is possible but this criminal history? It just isn't probable."

Elle nods in agreement. "I mean, as a minor, he began with attempted murder and then devolved into pettier crimes?"

"It's the criminal history of a fractured schizophrenic with multiple personality disorder," you sigh. "It just does not make sense."

***

Hotch calls you into his office when he and Morgan return from Baker's address. You can tell something is off before you even step through the door, so you shut it behind you and take a seat in front of his desk.

"What's going on?" you ask, your eyes glancing over his face to see if his micro-expressions can give you a hint. "What's wrong?"

He looks up with a sigh, his hands clasped on his desk. "Baker's place was an artificial dwelling, and the weapon we recovered on the scene was standard law enforcement issue."

It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what he's trying to say - a few seconds longer than usual - and your breath stutters in your throat. "He was undercover?"

"That's what it looks like," Hotch agrees. "I wanted to inform you before telling the rest of the team."

You nod, pressing your eyes closed for a beat.

He missed his pick-up, Mrs. Adler.

We'll call you as soon as we know more.

The memories start to flood back in and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter before opening them. Hotch looks blurry for a moment until your eyes adjust to the light again.

"Does organized crime know where he is?" you ask, desperately needing to fill the silence.

He looks down at the case file. "We assume so, but it's not like they would tell us. They weren't too happy that we were taking on this case at all, and now we know why."

"Maybe they'll talk to me," you suggest, even though the idea of talking to Josh Cramer makes you taste bile. You haven't seen him since a month after the funeral. It's not for his lack of trying, you just couldn't stomach looking at any of them after what happened. One missed call turned to ten and eventually they stopped trying.

There's a piercing pain behind your eyes and you squeeze them shut for a momentary relief. "It was only supposed to be three months."

Hotch's brow furrows and you don't look up at him just yet. You can already picture his expression, the anguish you know he feels for you whenever you bring up Jeff.

"It was a three month operation," you continue, knowing you won't be able to discuss it later if you stop talking now. "That's all we signed up for. Three months away from me and then he was on leave for the rest of the year, so that we could focus on us again. Maybe even start a family."

Your voice cracks on the last word and you tilt your head down to hide your face. He hates it when you cry, but that's not fair. He knows how important it is to get your emotions out, so they don't pile up inside of you, but if he had his way, you would never have had a reason to cry in the first place.

"I hadn't seen him in over a month when he was..."

He can hear the tightness in your voice and he resists the overwhelming urge to reach his hand out and take yours. You're sitting a foot back from the desk, and it's not he could reach you from here anyway, but his fingers still ache.

"I don't want to blame them, Aaron," you sigh. Your words sound watery, and he pulls a handkerchief out of his inside jacket pocket and hands it to you. He's almost surprised when you accept the gesture, pressing the cloth square under your eyes to catch the tears leaking out. You were so self-reliant as a kid, never wanting or needing anyone else's help. "I don't want to blame them, but I do. I can't help it, I just do."

Someone else would have consoled you. They would have assured you that feeling this way was natural, and that no one could blame you for feeling what you do, but that isn't who you two are. "Jeff wouldn't."

His name is like a dagger to your heart. You practically wince as Hotch digs further. "That team was his family, just like we are yours. He wouldn't blame them, not for this. Not for something he chose."

Something he chose. This is why you don't let yourself remember that day. This is why you kept that day - the day you got that horrible call - locked up inside your brain, where not even you could reach it. Because if you let yourself think about it and remember, then you will remember that it wasn't really Cramer or his unit or the bureau that you blamed. It was him.

For choosing to miss his pick-up. For choosing to go undercover. For choosing to join organized crime.

You take a deep breath and re-adjust yourself in the uncomfortable chair Hotch refuses to replace, even though it's literally splitting at the seams. Something about your tax dollars hard at work. "What are you going to do about Baker?"

He lets you change the subject. "We have to contact Agent Cramer before-

"What the hell is wrong with you people?"

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Sorry?" Hotch frowns, both of you standing up immediately.

Cramer doesn't take his eyes off Hotch as he seethes with anger. "I told you, this is my case! You ran my agent through IBIS?"

"Because I wanted to know who he worked for and now that I do, I'd like to talk to him."

"You don't have him?"

You can hear your heartbeat in your skull.

Hotch looks at you then, and finally Cramer notices your presence. "Y/N...it's been a while."

Your lips press into a thin line. "Almost two years." The anger you've been trying to avoid seeps into your voice against your will and you sigh, returning to the investigation. "How long has Baker been missing?"

"About 12 hours."

"You think he ran?" you ask, watching Cramer closely as his jaw ticks.

"No, Jimmy's too experienced to run without contact."

He realizes his misstep immediately and his shoulders fall. To his credit, he doesn't break eye contact, even as his expression softens. "That's not what I meant. All I'm saying is that I think someone's keeping Jimmy from calling in."

You can feel Aaron looking at you, but you avoid his line of sight. If you're going to have to interact with organized crime, you might as well make yourself useful. "We all want the same thing, Cramer: to get Baker back to his family."

You wait outside as he explains the situation in more detail to Hotch and Gideon, and you're surprised when he's the first to leave. "Can we talk?"

Hotch comes out behind him and raises his eyebrow for a fraction of a second, a check-in. Swallowing thickly, you nod your head and follow him down the hall to the top of the stairs.

"I'm sorry I haven't reached out recently," he says as soon as you're out of earshot of the others. "You know Jeff was one of our top guys."

Your eyes shut at his name, as though someone clapped their hands too close to your face. It's almost laughable how sure you were that you were past your grief. You passed the bureau's psych evaluation after your six month leave with flying colors (because your team practically wrote the answers yourselves), and as each new day passed and you weren't so debilitated by just the thought of him, you thought it meant you were fine. Because time heals all wounds. At least it's supposed to.

"I know," you whisper scratchily, before clearing your throat. "I know that. And it's okay. We've all been busy." You look down at the bustling bullpen where his agents are interacting with your team. "Clearly."

Then you remember you're job here in the first place. "We really are just trying to help. It wouldn't hurt to keep us involved."

Cramer sighs and you know he won't refuse. "We'll loop you in."

***

James Baker is found and Vincent Perotta gets taken into custody, but you can still hear the end of the interrogation ringing in your ears.

"You were just responding to what you learned, Vincent.

When you grow up in an environment like that, an extremely abusive and violent household... it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers.

And some people grow up to catch them."

You can't pinpoint exactly what you're feeling, but if you had to guess, it would be sorrow. Sorrow for that little boy who got dealt the worst hand you can imagine, and still turned into the best version of who he could've been.

Hotch can't get the interrogation out of his mind either. He had grabbed his briefcase and headed out to the elevators as soon as Perotta was taken away, in the hopes of avoiding everybody. He's about to let out his breath when a hand reaches between the doors and sends them flying open again.

Normally your appearance is a welcome sight, but tonight, he's had enough talking. Perotta took everything he had to give, and then some, and he doesn't know if he has the strength to go through the proceedings again with you.

"I just want to get home," he says as you stand next to him without a word and face the doors. To my family.

You don't say anything as the little fluorescent floor number ticks down - has it always been this slow - and he feels his nerves tighten with agitation. You're never silent, especially not about something like this.

Just before the elevator reaches the second floor, you reach forward and pull the emergency stop button. He whispers your name, half irritated half relieved, and you step in front of him, focusing your eyes on his. It's a classic profiler technique, both to mentally establish trust and to physically block him from the keypad.

"You're a great father, Aaron."

His mind flashes back 25 years, but he squeezes the hand in his pocket into a fist to keep himself from succumbing to the memories. "I'm trying."

He knows what you're doing, and he would normally be open to a healthy exchange between two adults, but tonight he just can't. It's too fresh.

You seem to understand at least a fraction of what he's trying to convey. Your next words are gentle. "That already makes you a thousand times better than him."

That almost makes him smile. "You can say his name, you know."

You shrug, looking at him with a glint in your eye. "Honestly, I don't think I can. I'm afraid I'll turn into a pile of ash, with the fury your father instills in me."

That's what gets him. He coughs out a laugh that echoes around the elevator, and you return to his side, giving him a moment to breathe on his own.

This time, when his mind spirals back to his childhood, he's not as equipped to block it. The memories come in flashes, a blackening bruise on his abdomen, a split lip explained away through roughhousing in the backyard, the thin scars on his hands and elbows as he finally started to fight back. He would've taken it all forever if he had to, if it meant that he could keep the horrors away from the people he loved. "I really should go."

"Yeah." You push the emergency stop back into place and the elevator hits the ground floor in no time. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hotch."

He steps out, half expecting you to follow him. Instead, the doors close and he's by himself again, and he suddenly can't remember why he wanted to be alone in the first place.

***

When the Keystone Killer is finally caught after 18 years of inactivity, he finds himself expecting for there to be some sort of celebration, either in the form of a commendation, or a much-needed break. Instead, what he gets is a mountain of paperwork.

He usually doesn't mind the paperwork that comes after a long case. It's a helpful way for him to sort through his thoughts on what went down, and to learn from mistakes that were made along the way, whether in the profile or in the capture of the unsub.

Lately, paperwork has felt like an added torture to the long hours he already spends at work. It's not that he wasn't excited about going home before, but ever since Jack was born, he hasn't been able to get out of the office fast enough. But being the unit chief of the BAU has its responsibilities, and this is one of them.

He's drowning in consultation files and case reports when you knock on his door, two coffees in hand.

"Thought that was you," he says, finishing the sentence he was writing.

You frown, setting one steaming cup down on his desk. He hasn't even looked up yet. "How'd you know? Or do you just say that to everyone who walks in here?"

His lip twitches and he puts his pen down. "I could smell the coffee. It always smells the same when you make it."

"Oh?" You weren't aware you had a method. "And how's that?"

"Burnt."

You take the lid off your cup and chuck it at him with surprising accuracy. It would have thwacked him in the forehead if he hadn't swatted it aside with his stupid catlike reflexes.

"What are you working on?" you ask after taking a scalding sip of perfectly brewed coffee.

He looks up for a beat before diving back into the file he was skimming. "Paperwork for the Keystone Killer case."

"But we just finished that," you point out before reaching forward and taking the file out from under his nose.

He huffs. "I was...looking at that."

"This is a report on what happened a couple of hours ago," you say, ignoring his remark. "You can easily do this tomorrow, or later this week."

"It's fresh in my mind now. I don't want to forget any details."

You shrug in a motion that says 'fair enough'. "Or, you could actually go home before midnight for once."

You slide another file off the top of his pile and flip it open, reading over the notes Hotch has scribbled in the margins. He's so meticulous about his job that you almost forget he was promoted just a little over a year ago. He became unit chief at the same time that you joined the team, so you didn't get to see him in his early days, but looking at him now, you almost can't imagine it. It's like he's built for this, for taking responsibility and leading people with kindness and respect.

"Elle said something on the plane today," he says suddenly, jerking you from your thoughts.

You close the file and look up as he runs a hand over his head, pushing his thick hair back just for it to bounce forward again. "She said that she's scared she's going to look up and see that her life has passed her by while she was chasing monsters."

Something cold runs through your veins and you sit up straighter in your chair. "And what did you say?"

"I told her the truth."

You smile in an effort to keep your eyes from shining. "What, that we're all doomed?"

He looks at you candidly. "That this job will eat you up if you let it." Your smile falls and he continues. "You just can't let it."

"I'm sure Elle loved hearing that."

He shrugs. "She was surprisingly receptive."

That gets a laugh out of you, even if the good humor doesn't last long. "I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"This job, while also being a husband, and a father." You sigh, and you can almost feel the weight of the air as it leaves your body. "When I go home, I don't have to be anything to anyone. Most of the time it feels awful, but sometimes, after an especially bad case, I'm almost relieved when I can go home and just check out."

You aren't talking about him anymore, and he can tell. He doesn't mind, if this is what it will take for you to work through your emotions.

"We were gonna start trying for a baby."

That surprises him. Not that you wanted to be a mother - he knows that - but that he didn't know you were already thinking about it, especially because of how you grew up. You don't talk about it often, but after losing your mother to a drunk driver when you were ten, you almost transformed into her, becoming the emotional support for your family when there was no one else to fill that role.

You press your lips into a thin line and take a deep breath, your coffee cold and forgotten on the desk in front of you. "We had been talking about it for years, but with the paths our careers were taking, there just wasn't enough time before then." Your eyes look far away, and you don't seem to notice that your lips have unconsciously curved up into a reminiscent smile. "Jeff wanted five kids. Five. God, can you imagine?"

He can, but he doesn't say anything, because he knows you aren't looking for a response. Just for someone to listen.

"I'm an only child," you say with a laugh. "I don't even know what it's like to have one sibling, let alone four." But Jeff had come from a huge family, and he had wanted you to experience that. He loved how full his home always felt growing up, never without someone to talk to. Now you won't ever get to experience that. "I guess I just wish sometimes that we had tried earlier."

"You'll have it someday," Hotch says simply, practically reading your mind. "If that's what you want, you'll have it."

"I waited so long," you whisper, closing your eyes for a long moment. "I was just so afraid that I wouldn't do it right, because I didn't have my mother anymore to help me."

"You would've been a great mother," he assures you, his voice confident. "One day, you will be."

Your breath comes out like a gasp and you clear your throat to keep the tears at bay. "How do you know?"

"I just know."

***

When you push through the doors to the bullpen the next morning, you are greeted by a familiar head of blonde hair.

"Sean?"

He turns around slowly, clearly recognizing your voice, and pulls his lips up into a smile that you return. "Hey, Y/N, how's it going?"

You weren't close to him as a kid, mostly because of the age gap between him and Hotch. You had tried to make more of an effort after graduating college, but Sean was fierce in his convictions, and there were a lot of things he didn't understand about his childhood that you certainly weren't going to explain to him now.

"Good, good," you say, leading him away from the throng of staring women. You shoot them a look that makes them disperse. "You here for your brother? He's upstairs."

He nods, glancing up at the closed office door. You start to lead him to the stairwell when he stops in his tracks and turns to you. "What mood's he in?"

"Why?" you ask, your brow furrowing. "You got bad news? Nothing I need to worry about, I hope."

Sean shakes his head, glancing up at the closed door again. "Nothing like that. I'll just go up."

You let him walk up on his own, knowing he doesn't want you getting involved in whatever he's thinking about. Before you have a moment to catch your breath, the three women return to your side.

"That's Hotch's brother?" Penelope asks, standing so close you can feel her breath on your ear.

"Maybe Hotch is adopted."

"What do you mean?" you ask, unconsciously glancing up the stairs. "They're honestly pretty similar." You're only half joking. They don't look anything alike, but that Hotchner brand of righteousness runs deep.

JJ frowns. "I don't see it."

"Yeah, he looks...like that," Penelope murmurs, before looking at you. "Did you know him when you were younger? Was he hot then too?"

You choke on your own spit. "He was nine years old when I left for college, so...no."

Her eyes widen and she lifts her hands in surrender.

"Ooh, here he comes."

You look up to see Sean storming down the stairs, Hotch hot on his heels.

"Sean, listen to me."

He turns so fast, you're afraid they're going to crash into each other. "Don't profile me, Aaron."

Sean stomps out of the bullpen while Hotch watches him leave, and you can't get the striking feeling of deja vu out of your head. Two boys, 15 years younger than they are now, standing in the same positions, with the same looks on their faces.

You imagine that you and Hotch probably act the same way around each other as when you first met, at eight years old.

The memory comes easily, even with more than two decades of time standing in the way. The little boy with dark hair who had sat next to you on the school bus, just because there were no other empty seats available that day.

You hadn't said anything for the first few stops, just watched him out of the corner of your eye as he nodded his head unconsciously to the music coming out of his large headphones. Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you tapped on his shoulder. "What are you listening to?"

He had taken his headphones off quickly, as though caught in the act. "What?"

You repeated your question before leveling him with a pointed stare that meant 'there is a correct answer'. You were a feisty kid, and you weren't always the best at making first impressions, so his steady response impressed you. "Beatles. Revolver album."

"I love that one!" you had gushed, leaning in closer without a warning to press your ear to one of the speakers on his headphones. "Is this Yellow Submarine?"

He had nodded, the confusion in his eyes slowly transforming into delight. "You know their stuff?"

"Of course. My favorite's Eleanor Rigby."

He had frowned then. "That one's too sad."

You weren't surprised by his opinion. You had yet to find a boy your age who could appreciate serious music, but liking The Beatles was a start, at least.

"I'm Y/N," you had said, extending your hand like you were starting a business meeting.

He shook your hand furtively. "Aaron."

"Maybe I'll see you around."

The school bus had stopped at your street then, and you had gotten up without another word to this boy, who would one day become your best friend in the world.

Luckily, the next day, Aaron chose to sit next to you again, this time with a second pair of headphones to attach to his compact cassette deck. Two days turned to three, and before long, you had a new friend.

***

"I can't imagine what two weeks away from this place is gonna feel like," you sigh, packing some essentials into your bag and snapping it shut. "I might actually miss you guys."

"Not me," Morgan grins, before pressing a kiss to your cheek as he zips around you. "Two weeks of pure heaven with nothing but young, beautiful adults looking to make vacation memories."

"Your friend's resort better be as nice as you say it is," Elle says sternly as she wiggles her finger at Derek, who is busy inviting Reid to join their vacation.

"Thanks, but I'm going home," he says quickly, without looking at any of you. "Have a good one, guys."

"I'll head out too," you announce, grabbing your things and following him to the elevators. "Wait up, Spence."

He doesn't seem to hear you, but you slip through the doors just before they close. "You okay?"

"Huh?" he says, finally looking up. "Oh, yeah. I'm just not looking forward to the Nevada heat."

You can tell he's lying, but you don't want to press him right before the long break. "You can always call me if you need anything. Seriously."

"Yeah," he nods. "I know."

You wave goodbye to him in the parking lot, and you're back in the silence of your home by the end of the hour.

The rest of your day is spent lazing around the house, and you're asleep when you hear a knock at your door. After Jeff's death, you started keeping your gun in your nightstand, more out of a general sense of security than any specific acute fear, but its proximity during late night calls has given you the peace of mind you needed to finally sleep through the night.

Lifting it from the drawer, you hold it behind your back as you tiptoe to your front door and look through the peephole. When you don't see anyone, you carefully pull the door open, only to find a small packet sitting on your welcome mat with your name scrawled on the top.

After bringing it inside the house and locking the door again, you pry open the seal and extract a large piece of paper covered in a series of numbers and dots.

That's when the phone rings.

***

"How's it going?" you ask Reid and Morgan as you enter the conference room where all of the Fisher King's clues have been laid out. Neither of them have taken their eyes off the paper you brought in since you tacked it up on the board.

As expected, Reid doesn't look up. "The answer to what book we need has to be in here."

"Yeah," Derek sighs, glancing over at you, "but we sure as hell can't see it."

"Yet."

You look at the numbers again, hoping that your short walk to the coffee station and back would have been enough to unlock something new in your brain. Nothing. "The answer has to be based on specific details of each person's clue." A small sound turns your attention to the couch, where Elle is lying on her side. "Is Elle asleep?"

"I'm awake!" she starts, sitting up lethargically.

At the outburst, Hotch walks into the room and points at her bags. "I'm sending you home. You need to get some rest."

"No-"

"We won't do anything without you, I promise."

"Elle, seriously, we're not any closer than we were."

She nods, her lack of sleep seeming to dawn on her as she yawns again.

"Anderson," Hotch calls out, before you stop him. "What is it?"

"I can take her home," you suggest, looking over your shoulder as she lugs her bags down the hall with bleary eyes. He looks like he wants to protest, so you speak up before he has the chance. "She barely knows Anderson. I'll make sure she's settled, and then you can send him to watch her house, so I can come back here."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he sighs, his eyes still trained on Elle's silhouette lingering by the elevator. "We may need you here."

You cock your head at Reid and Morgan, who have been sitting in the same positions for so long, you're surprised their necks haven't locked. "It's like they said. We haven't made any progress in over an hour. I'm not helping here."

He still looks unsure, but you know it's just worry. He'll always worry about you. "Okay, go. Call me in an hour to check-in."

You dip your head in a nod and jog through the bullpen to catch Elle as she's heading out.

"So you're my bodyguard, huh?"

You laugh, pressing the button for the ground floor. "Something like that."

"Good," Elle says, trying and failing to stifle a yawn, "you're much more fun than Anderson."

"Prettier, too."

The car ride to her house starts off silent, but eventually you break your internal promise to let her come to you. "How are you feeling after last night?"

She just shrugs. "It was more annoying than anything. I'm just glad I got to enjoy at least some of my vacation."

"I heard there was blood all over your room," you point out lightly, trying to broach the subject in a delicate manner. "That can't have been fun to wake up to."

"It was all on the outside. That's part of why they weren't able to hold me. That, and Hotch's lawyer chops."

You raise an eyebrow, glancing over at her as you pull over to the sidewalk. "His lawyer chops?" You know he used to be a prosecutor before joining the bureau, but you never got to see his skills in action.

"Yeah," Elle gushes, her face brightening considerably, "you should have seen the way he walked in there. Those beat cops had no idea what hit 'em. He was in full prosecutor mode, went all rainmaker on them until they released me."

You can imagine it. If any of you were in trouble, he wouldn't let anything get between him and your safety. "I wish I could've seen that."

When you put the car in park, you help Elle with her bags and walk her up to her door, where she insists that she'll be fine on her own.

"I promised I would wait with you until another agent could come and relieve me," you emphasize, instinctively scanning the vicinity around her home as she walks inside and drops her things on the floor.

"In about thirty seconds, I'll be passed out on this couch right here," she points at the window seat behind her, "so you'll just be watching me sleep for an hour."

You open your mouth to argue but she cuts you off. "Y/N, I'll be fine."

If there's one word to describe Elle, it's stubborn, so you let her shut the door behind her and you walk back to your car. Even if she won't let you sit with her inside, you still can't bring yourself to start the ignition, so you lean your seat back halfway and close your eyes, just for a few moments.

You haven't gotten much sleep either, and you're about to doze off when you hear a loud thud from outside the car. Jerking up, you undo the clasp of your holster and push open the car door. The world is silent, except for the rustling of leaves in the wind, but you start making your way up the drive, just to be sure. There's another thud, quieter this time, and you reach for your sidearm as you ascend her porch steps. Then comes a gunshot.

You start running.

843 notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 8 months

Note

Can‘t stop thinking about the usually so confident hotch getting yk kinda shy and clumsy all of a sudden, everyones just so confused as to why he‘s getting a bit quieter or redder in the face with seemingly no reason

But when in a case meeting they notice Hotch gripping the sides of his chair, biting his nails (nervous tick), making himself small in his chair and his leg shaking so much that they can feel it in through the floor

And you just standing behind him, one hand on the back of his chair not even really touching his shoulder with your fingertips and listening to whatever Garcia has to say with your full attention that they realize how Hotch has it bad BAD for you

You don't make it into the round table room until after everyone else is already seated, and unfortunately for you, that means you're out of a chair. Your typical seat is filled by Strauss, who looks less-than-pleased at your late entry, but holds her tongue.

"I'm sorry for being late, everyone," You linger behind the seat facing the screen that Garcia has prepared, your hands resting on the back of Hotch's chair, "There was an accident right in front of me, and I had to give a witness statement. Have we started yet?"

The team is used to Aaron leading conversation, but it's not necessarily weird that he doesn't, and Derek shakes his head.

"All good- uh, Y/L/N." He seems to have been going for a nickname that Strauss would not be amused with, and wisely reels himself in, "We barely got halfway through."

"I'll-" You lean down over the back of Hotch's chair, and it creaks as he shifts in it. You peer down at the case file that's open in front of him, and his eyes are glued to the word victim as you scan the details over his shoulder. He can't move them, he can't act natural, he's stiff as a board and tense in his seat.

"Oh," Your nose wrinkles at the word enucleator, "Gross. Okay, well- uh, go ahead, Garcia. I think I'm caught up."

"Okay. So victim number three was just last night, in this parking garage," She grimaces as the image on the screen, "And wow, that's nasty. But- um, Houston PD has asked for your help, and I really don't want to look at this anymore, so I'm gonna go, and- and let you take over. Do your- profiler genius thing," She stammers, gaze averted from the screen as she rushes out, emphasizing her command with a wave of her hands, "Be gone!"

Reid gets right into things by rattling off statistics on enucleators. They're fascinating, really, but not entirely helpful, and you lean down once more to inspect the case file.

"Sorry," You murmur beside Hotch's ear when your fingertips brush against his shoulder, "My seat was taken."

He doesn't answer, can't afford to open his mouth and hear his voice waver. All he does is nod, once, stiffly, and it casts an uncomfortable ache over your chest. Is he angry with you?

He could be annoyed, perhaps. That you were late in front of Strauss. But he's never been afraid to chew out an agent in front of an audience if it's what they truly deserve, and if he had a problem with your tardiness you're sure he would let it be known.

"Are you okay?" You ask him in that same low murmur, one that sends shivers down his spine to a place he can't think about with you hovering above him. He nods, vigorously so, and his tie moves with the gesture. You decide that he's just uncharacteristically nervous about Strauss's presence, perhaps she's threatening once more to demote him or fire him altogether.

You reach down to place your hands on his shoulders in what's supposed to be a supportive gesture. You squeeze gently at them, feeling his muscles impossibly tense, and the room falls silent as Reid's ramble ends.

"Okay, so these victims aren't connected," Morgan reads off of his case file, "Different genders, different races, different tax brackets, nothing in here that suggests there's a common thread. Opportunity, then?"

"It looks like it." JJ agrees, "I mean, a parking lot at night? That's high-risk. I'm willing to bet this guy just stumbled upon his first chance and took it, then couldn't stop."

There's a quiet round of agreement, some 'yeah's and a thoughtful nods, and the room falls silent. This is Hotch's moment, his time to share his conclusions, his thoughts, his doubts, his orders,, but he can't bring himself to do any of that. Not when your thumbs are gently rubbing out the kinks in his muscles, hidden from view like a comfort you're sharing with him in secret. He can't bring his mind to generate any adequate responses, so he pretends to busy himself with the file in front of him to avoid the probing gazes of his coworkers.

They're smirking. They know what's going on, they see the pink tinge on Hotch's face, they hear his foot tapping the floor beneath the table, they know he's fumbling for words like a lovesick teen.

Strauss is not as amused.

"Agent Hotchner, might I remind you that you're the chief of this team? They are awaiting your instruction."

You press your hands harder into his shoulders, thumbs digging further into his tense muscles to soothe him through his nerves. He feels your hands hold him tighter, feels that staticky feeling threaten to envelop the last part of his brain that had remained clear, and speaks before it can overtake him.

"Wheels up in thirty." He snaps, voice forcibly firm, "Dismissed."

Strauss seems rather displeased with his mediocre orders, but she doesn't say it. She lets Dave herd her out the door with the promise of freshly brewed coffee in the kitchen, and Aaron pointedly ignores the thumbs-up that the older man shoots behind his back as he leads her away.

"She's gone," You breathe, patting Hotch's shoulders as you release your grip on him, "God, she's scary."

"Derek," Emily calls sweetly, "Can you come with me to my desk? I had a newspaper clipping I wanted to show you."

Your nose wrinkles, newspaper clipping? Emily doesn't read the newspaper.

"I'd like to see it too," Reid rushes to follow them, "Uh- JJ, come on, Garcia said she wanted to see you before we took off. She wanted to give you that- uh, thing."

"That thing!" JJ repeats, grinning madly at you as she tails Reid out of the door, "See you on the jet!"

"That thing," You echo in a scoff, "Hotch, did you ever follow through with that drug test on Garcia? I think they might both be on it. Whatever it is."

Hotch manages a weak chuckle, and it brings a frown back to your face.

"Hotch, come on." You plead, "Are you really worried about Strauss?"

No. He's not. He always is, a little bit, but that's not what has his attention. He can't shake the feeling of your hands on his shoulders, rubbing out the knots in his muscles and pressing flush to his form. He wants to feel your hands over him again, in the same places and in others, but there's a bozo running around Texas removing people's eyes, and he can't afford to focus on that now.

"She's got nothing on you," You take his silence for an answer, smiling sympathetically at him, "Come on, Hotch, just forget about her, and lead like you normally would. That's enough to impress her, I guarantee it. You can do this, Hotch."

Looking at your earnest smile, standing only feet away from you when you reach out to grab hold of his hand and squeeze sympathetically, Aaron is certain of only one thing: He cannot do this.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenarip #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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honeyboylovee · 3 months

Text

endearing

Pairing: Idol!Mingyu x gn!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Genre: fluff, established relationship!AU, implied friends to lovers

Warnings: mentions of overthinking

A/N: Long time no see… I am finally done with my end semester exams and I can now post this one which has been in my drafts for agessss. But here you go besties, a cute and fluffy Mingyu blurb.

To say that there were a few instances where you were endeared by Mingyu would be an understatement.

Mingyu always had this effect on you. No matter what he’d be doing, you’d always find it cute and oh so lovely!

It started when you were still friends and you were at a party thrown by a mutual friend. Other than them, you only knew Mingyu at the party. And so you stayed next to him…You stayed from when you saw him at the makeshift bar sipping his drink, till the time he walked you to your car. He said it wasn’t safe to enter a parking lot alone, late at night.

That day, you drove home with a lingering feeling of guilt inside yourself. Sure, you liked Mingyu’s company but you didn’t want to hold him back from socialising just ‘cause you weren’t the best at talking to new people.

Months later, you shared this concern of yours to him. His reply was instant and short but it did wonders in calming you down.

‘That’s something I wanted to do for you, lovie. And if I’m doing it for you, it won’t hold me back.’

That’s when you realised that Mingyu always had a way with his words. And the way he would comfort you with just a few sentences was so endearing to you.

———————————————————————————

Another instance was on one of your initial dates. He suggested you both visit the street food market in your city.

While you stopped at various stalls to try the delicacies, you couldn’t resist looking at Mingyu’s face. He looked so content with all the dishes you both tried, the ones that you loved, and even the ones that you didn’t like so much.

‘Hmff! I don’t think I can eat anything more.’, he exclaimed as you relaxed on a bench. The cool breeze left behind a soothing effect on your face.

‘Oh…I thought we’d go have some ice cream at your favourite dessert store.’

‘Ofcourse we will.’, he said eagerly.

‘Didn’t you just say you won’t be eating anything else?’

‘Ice cream is always an exception, baby.’, he said immediately, winking at you.

You couldn’t argue with that.

That was when you realised…again. You found Mingyu’s habit of always being so content while eating so endearing. And maybe this is weird. But who are you kidding, you always think that he’s so adorable.

———————————————————————————

Your boyfriend had recently been to Italy with his group members. They had been ‘kidnapped’ by the staff of their own company along with Na PD. And while they were in Italy, your schedules didn’t match at all due to the different time zones.

And so you found a different way to stay in contact. Mingyu started sending voice notes summarising the occurrences of his entire day, to you. And while narrating these, he spoke oh so fast… He spoke as if he had a time limit to finish these voice messages. You’d always ask him to speak slowly in order for you to understand them.

And his response was, ‘This is how I always speak, isn’t it?…or maybe I got too excited’, he chucked and continued, ‘I’ll try to speak slowly next time, yeah? Don’t want you to miss on any of the details, lovie.’

So when you get a notification of the next voice message, you rush to listen to it. And you have two reasons to do so. One was obviously because you wanted to know about his day. And the second was to see whether he remembered his promise of speaking slowly.

After listening to the first few seconds, you were assured that he didn’t remember at all. And now you didn’t mind him speaking fast, maybe ‘cause you know that he speaks fast only when he’s very excited.

And you loved that. His habit of speaking fast when he was excited was endearing to you.

———————————————————————————

It was Sunday afternoon. You ordered burgers and fried chicken for lunch. The said lunch was done and the plates, washed. So Mingyu and you decided to watch a movie, the one that you had watched several times but never got bored of. It was your favourite ‘cause it had a happy ending(and because the male lead gave off strong Mingyu vibes). But you’d never tell him that.

You were sitting on the couch with your boyfriend’s head on your lap when you noticed that he was falling asleep.

‘Mingyu, you can go take a nap in the bedroom. That’ll be more comfortable, baby.’

‘Hmmm…no, let’s finish this movie.’

‘We know the ending, right. If you’re tired you should sleep for a while.’

‘I’m not tired, lovie. I get sleepy around you ‘cause I’m very comfortable with you.’, he said in a low voice, ‘You know, I read this somewhere that if you always feel sleepy around someone, that’s probably because you feel safe around them. And I realised that I’ve slept several times in your lap and while cuddling with you.’

You were speechless when he said that. Finally after a good minute of taking his words in, you couldn’t help but peck him on the forehead. That kiss was your response to his revelation. He simply took your hand in his and placed it on his cheek while he dozed off again.

His ability to say the most heartwarming things so casually was so endearing to you.

———————————————————————————

You were on a trip to the beach with Mingyu. Both of you loved the beach. It was your favourite place to go to even with a slight rise in the temperature. It was almost an hour later of being in the water and swimming when you caught sight of Mingyu standing at a distance where his feet would easily touch the land and he was facing the other side. You swam closer to him to see what he was up to. As you reached behind him, you could hear him chuckling softly. ‘What’re you laughing at?’, you asked him.

‘Oh baby, I’ll show you something, okay? Just do as I say.’

You nodded and looked up at him in anticipation after his instruction.

‘Okay, put your palms under the water and do a ‘thumbs up’ sign but only your thumbs should be seen outside the water.’

‘Umm, I don’t know what it’s gonna do, baby. I don’t get it.’, you said, confused.

‘Just do it for me, lovie.’

You did as he said, only keeping your thumbs out of the water. Looking at your thumbs that were now wrinkly from being in the water for too long, Mingyu burst into giggles. You watched him as he let out his cute, high-pitched giggles but you were still so confused. How was this funny to him?

Clearly he read the confused look on your face and spoke up, ‘I find silly things like this funny.’, as he continued to giggle while looking at your thumbs.

Maybe you’ll never understand the fun part in your wrinkly thumbs. And you don’t want to, as long as you can make Mingyu giggle. Even if it means doing several such silly tricks. Because Mingyu’s laughter was always so endearing.

#seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu fluff #seventeen fluff #idol mingyu x reader #seventeen imagines #mingyu imagines #fanfiction #seventeen fics #mingyu fics #fluff #seventeen #mingyu #kim mingyu

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f1version · 2 months

Text

DATES WITH YOU ♥︎ F1 HEADCANONS

includes: charles, carlos, max, daniel, lando, oscar, lewis, george, alex, logan, pierre, yuki, lance, mick, and sebastian.

summary: f1 drivers’ and their favorite themed dates!

author’s note: happy valentine’s day my loves!! this is incredibly late (almost 15th where i am) but here it is <3

love on top, a vday special ♥︎ general masterlist

now playing ♫₊⊹ until i found you by stephen sanchez

★ CHARLES LECLERC ( 16 ) — Charles has a bucket list with dates. Enjoys planning them curled up in bed, talks about how you shouldn’t repeat one until the list is done—unless you are a Drive-in theater date, he loves them. When they're arranged in Monaco, it's usually for old romcoms and coming-of-age movies, which is perfect in both of your eyes. Charles makes sure to bring snacks, blankets and pillows, everything so you can be comfortable while cuddling him. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as the movie plays, dusk falling over you, looking as beautiful as ever. He loves this type of dates… it even gives him a chance to show off his magnificent car, but hey! that's off-topic.

★ CARLOS SAINZ JR. ( 55 ) — You and Carlos have a passion for trying new recipes, so sometimes, when you have everything you need, you decide to put on matching aprons, as well as toques, and start working on your next masterpiece. Usually, old Spanish songs play in the background, Carlos singing, grabbing you by the waist to distract you and dance a little. He loves days like these, your focused face and little scoldings are all he needs, especially because one way or another, you will end up laughing and dancing with him, sometimes full of flour and seasonings, the kitchen wearing its best perfume.

★ MAX VERSTAPPEN ( 1 ) — Max is always looking for ways to impress you, to catch you off guard and surprise you, he loves how you tease him about it. So that's why, when you go to one of your favorite places ever —the planetarium— as a date, he recollects as many details about the celestial objects as he can, waiting for your surprise when he drops a fact you didn't know he knew, starting a long, beautiful conversation about it. You know a lot more than him, but he's eager to learn, loves the way you explain every single thing to him, loves the way places like this brings you closer.

★ DANIEL RICCIARDO ( 3 ) — Daniel loves music, he spends hours on end with his headphones on, discovering new artists every day, sharing his songs, albums, and artists of the month with you, adding to his playlists your recommendations. So it's no surprise you find yourself going to multiple concerts. Dancing and singing, hugging and fangirling. Sometimes artists know Daniel and that's when you laugh the most because there's always a chance of him ending up on stage, singing to you (or trying to).

★ LANDO NORRIS ( 4 ) — Lando loves your creativity, he’s a fan of getting to know what's on your pretty mind and seeing your ideas come to life, he also loves sharing his own ideas with you, feels free doing so. His favorite dates with you consist of this: having a canvas, paper, or even pottery to paint on, gossiping and laughing for hours, having picnics and enjoying food. Lando would buy hundreds of utensils, wanting to try everything with you, forever. PD: He would have you paint him and his car, probably.

★ OSCAR PIASTRI ( 81 ) — It didn't start as a date per se, Oscar just couldn't sleep one night and you suggested building the Lego Star Wars ship in your closet, so you stayed up until 6 in the morning building it. He loves the tranquility it brings, how you can go from discussing the deepest topics to a comfortable silence. Focuses on the little things, like when your fingers brush his while reaching for a piece or that little celebration when you find another. In his apartment, he has a shelf dedicated to the Legos you've built together and photos to go with it. So, in Oscar's humble opinion, these are the best dates in the world.

★ LEWIS HAMILTON ( 44 ) — You and Lewis can live off two things: Roscoe and the beach. Surfing is something you have always bonded over, that's why you love heading to the beach early morning, going for a run with Roscoe, and then jumping to surf (taking Roscoe back inside first). You can stay out there for hours, challenging each other, improving your skills, and lying on your boards, talking about everything and nothing, loving every second of it.

★ GEORGE RUSSELL ( 63 ) — While experimenting with extreme sports would be a lovely date for George, he chooses to call his favorite something more domestic: comfy clothes, a good bottle of wine, and a long puzzle night ahead of you. He enjoys the challenging but relaxing parts of the activity, loves to strategize alongside you, and loses his focus when looking at you, falling deeper in love.

★ ALEX ALBON ( 23 ) — Playing Mario Kart as if your life depended on winning has always been part of your relationship — "It's our love language," Alex says— That's why you love to spend a large amount of time (and money) in arcades. You play against each other, with and without; also spend forty minutes trying to catch that one stuffed animal from the claw machine, cheering (and almost getting kicked out) when you get it. Alex loves it as much as he loves you.

★ LOGAN SARGEANT ( 2 ) — Logan fully believes that the best date in the history of dating are theme and amusement park dates. Whether it's a local funfair or the (in)famous Florida parks, Logan loves walking hand in hand, map and snacks in the other, trying to go on as many attractions as possible, calming the nerves of each other when necessary, laughing at the photos quickly taken on the rollercoasters (and going again to attempt looking good), and many other things that make this type of date his favorite.

★ PIERRE GASLY ( 10 ) — Pierre loves chaos and what's more chaotic than doing karaoke? Your catalog goes from High School Musical's "Gotta Go My Own Way" to Gaye and Terrell's "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." Sometimes they end up drunk enough (from adrenaline, from love, or both) to sing French songs and attempt Celine Dion's highest notes. You can spend hours teasing each other, dancing to the rhythm, and sneaking kisses in between songs.

★ YUKI TSUNODA ( 22 ) — Contrary to popular belief, Yuki's favorite type of date isn't taking you to a restaurant or cooking together, because even though he does love doing those things with you, your trips to farmers markets are his favorite. When the season is right, you visit them hand-in-hand, no matter the country since there is nothing better than discovering new foods with your favorite person. And hey! If there is something to eat, why not mix dates?

★ LANCE STROLL ( 18 ) — No matter the weather or season, you and Lance will always be up for an ice cream date. You're on a quest to find the best flavors, and the fact that some dates end in small big disasters is enough to keep you searching together, chins full of ice cream and all.

★ MICK SCHUMACHER ( 47 ) — Two things about Mick: he really enjoys ice skating and he loves you. If you put them together, he's guaranteed to have the time of his life, so he's lucky you like ice skating as much as he does. You both spend hours on the rink, being careful not to fall while holding hands, yet most of the time it's Mick who ends up in the floor as you drown in laughter. He loves that sound. He loves making you laugh and smile, it's his favorite pastime, and seeing you shine on the ice rink makes him realize how much he adores this place.

★ SEBASTIAN VETTEL ( 5 ) — Seb’s favorite is going hiking and then camping with you in the beautiful Swiss mountains, away from the a much hectic side of life. Just you and him giving new meaning to the known, sharing not only the beauty of life but also the comfort of one another, wrapped around small info-dumps and timeless laughter. It’s therapeutic being so close to each other, so pure and loving. If you ask him, he would repeat this date a thousand times over.

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sehodreams · 2 months

Text

come inside of my heart

TW and Tags: all consensual, smut, fluff (corny moments, sorry), porn with plot(?), making out sessions, weird characters(?), fingering, Seunghan overthinking, mutual pining(?), corruption kink(?), p in v, oral sex (both receiving), dom!Seunghan, friends with benefits(?)(more like classmates with benefits).

WC: 14k (I’M.SO.SORRY)

Summary: Seunghan has a problem with letting people stay close to him for long, so when he meets you, he expects his interest to fade like it usually does, but this time things seem to be different.

Comment: Again, another weird story that didn’t end or go like I expected, my head it’s kind of weird while writing idk, I wanted it to be a story of Seunghan plainly fucking reader so much she couldn’t think anymore, but it still has porn. Also, I think this should be under a fantasy category because it’s so idealistic hahahaha.

Yeah, I should stop writing on my laptop because these stories have gone from 4k to 10k+ and my mind can’t take it, and I'm sorry, but after this, I'm taking at least a two-day break, I wasn't going to let it win but it did suck my whole soul, so Seunghan better comes back soon, let's think this is an early celebration.

Pd: I did a bit of proofreading but not much, only at the end because I realized that I always write everything in past, and suddenly it was all in present and it was so weird.

Seunghan, unlike what many think, gets easily bored of people.

He doesn't know if it has something to do with his mbti or whatever people talked about those days, but what he knows is that, since he was young, he’s liked to know people, but he also got quickly tired of them.

For him, it was easy to start the communication, and with that he doesn’t mean being the first one saying hello or introducing himself, he hated being the one making the first step, but he liked to be the first one doing the real questions. Seunghan would prefer to say he was naturally curious, but he wasn’t, he wanted to know what people’s hobbies and thoughts were with the purpose of learning how to behave and what to say to them, because more than curious, he liked to be liked.

There wasn’t anything he disliked more than useless problems and uncomfortable moments with people he didn’t care enough about, so for his own peace, and to maintain the harmony around him, he preferred to just please others.

He knew he had a talent not many had, making people comfortable came to him almost like breathing, and, therefore, many wanted to stay around him, but not many got the privilege of staying for long.

It was hard to keep him entertained, so it was common to see different people flying around him, whether he was the one talking or listening, it didn’t matter, people felt attracted to his presence, and he enjoyed the attention even when he didn’t say anything at all, so he let them approach him, but if they didn’t have anything else to offer than their company, he’d go and find another person that picked his interest until he got bored and repeated the cycle again. Still, even knowing they wouldn’t last long, everyone wanted to stay by his side, and they would work hard for it, but if Seunghan didn’t want them in his space, he’d softly push them away by filling their roles with other characters, and not finding their place beside him anymore, they’d slowly leave him without making a scene.

To your luck, or disgrace, you somehow had caught his interest this time.

As expected, after you caught his attention, he decided to dig as much as he could about you, however, what was unexpected, was the kind of person you were and how you caught his attention.

He had a type for everything, at his age he knew enough about what he usually liked. He liked smart opinionated people who always had something to say, he liked how being seen with them always elevated his status and profile in everyone else’s eyes, so they were most of the people that always flocked with him, and of course, that included pretty girls with energetic voices. The way they would follow the conversation with witty remarks and would understand his humour left a lingering feeling of satisfaction he tried to savour as long as he could when he flirted with them, and he couldn't deny it, he was a sucker for pretty faces, he loved the way their smiles would shine and illuminate the room, and how they matched his eagerness for the public attention.

Surprisingly, in the curse of his life, he hasn't had a ton of dates, he’s had his fair share of relationships and an impressive quantity of received confessions, but he carefully chose who to give such opportunity to before he decided to accept the other's feelings. Going out with him had to bring something into his life for him to decide they were good enough to receive his time and effort, and since he knew how easily he could get tired of them, they had to make him think that he would enjoy their presence for at least a decent period of time.

He's never had to chase anyone, he's always been the chased one, or he was until you arrived, and what bothered his mind every time he ran to you was that you weren't his style at all.

You didn’t check any of his boxes.

In first place, you weren't energetic at all. You never matched his conversations with equal happiness, you didn't understand his jokes most of the time and you didn't even try to continue the flow of his conversations. With no remarks and no comments, you'd let the contact die as soon as you could, which always itched something in the back of his head. He can even remember what your first messages looked like. He would send two or three lines of whatever went through his mind, being extremely polite to you as his classmate, wishing to be on your good side, and you would answer with the driest ok he had ever seen in his life.

Hi, just a quick question, what do you think about moving the meetings to my house? I think it'd be better for all of us since none of them would have to pay for coffee and I have everything we might need in my place, it's just something that went through my mind and I wanted to send it to the group chat but I know you live kind of far from here so I wanted to ask you first, so what do you think?

He still gets annoyed when he remembers your past messages.

In second place, you weren't the bright person he usually liked to hang out with. You would never make anyone turn back to see you twice, sometimes they wouldn't notice you even if you were in front of them, and you'd often get ignored if he didn't repeat your comments while working together, which honestly impressed him since you only talked if you had something useful to say, so he would expect others to stay silent when you showed intentions of entering the conversation, but your voice would simply get lost between everyone spitting random ideas and opinions that were rather pointless. You were still kind enough to answer each of them before everyone followed your ideas, receiving no appreciation back from anyone, and it did bother him to see that happening every meeting, hoping that at some point everyone would learn to shut up and give you your time, but it bothered him even more to see that you didn’t care if they listened to you or not.

At least, after a couple of meetings, it was almost established that his seat would be always next to you because no one, except him, found being near you important.

And last but not least, your face wasn't his type. You weren't ugly, but you weren't the prettiest girl in the room either. You were rather normal with your round brown eyes and your dark hair, unlike the girls with caramel eyes and smooth hair that always looked as if they just arrived from a hair salon appointment, you simply had no spark, and you didn't try to get one either. You would wear plain clothes with no sense of style, only thinking in your comfort instead of what others said behind your back, and he couldn’t imagine himself going hand in hand with you looking that way.

Seunghan almost never got involved with people like you, dull and boring. He was sure that if it wasn’t for the project, he wouldn’t have learned your name, and if it wasn’t for the unexpected turn of events, you’d have ended like one of the numerous faceless people in his past.

The way you slowly and effortlessly took a spot in his head was unconventional. Unlike the continuous messages and invitations most people did to get closer to him, you only did your stuff, working on your tasks and lending a hand if anyone asked for help, but it was kind of endearing how someone who looked so uninterested in everyone else and their opinions would work hard to help if needed. Even if they ignored you most of the time, you had no resentment at all, and when Seunghan asked you if you minded that they called for you that much, your answer was so short it made him analyze each of your words for days, ‘’Well, the work has to be done’’.

He wanted to know if you were a fool letting yourself be taken advantage of or if you simply wanted to end things as fast as you could, and he was inclining more into the latest seeing your blank face writing over your keyboard and yawning unbothered when most of them had left and you stayed to finish their parts because, just like you had said, I won’t open the document once I cross your door.

‘’Aren’t you mad?’’ he then asked.

‘’Not really, why would I get mad?’’ you said without stopping your work.

‘’I don’t know, I just feel like you should’’ Seunghan bit his lip and watched you skillfully go through the document introducing commas and changing words, not wanting to interrupt you but doing it anyways because he couldn’t stay with the doubt in his mind, ‘’don’t you ever get mad?’’

‘’Uhmm no’’ you answered without stopping your work, ‘’I do get mad, I don’t mind correcting other’s work on the computer, but I hate washing other’s dishes.’’

That makes sense, he thought, because you never offered yourself to help him wash everyone’s cups once they left you two alone, and he didn’t realize it until that moment, but the common thing would’ve been to at least offer yourself to take them to the kitchen, thing you never did.

Another question popped into his mind.

‘’Don’t you work in a restaurant?’’ he, after a long time, asked.

‘’Yeah’’

He laughed for days when that conversation replayed in his head.

A routine had been formed after many reunions. Every member of the group would go to his house each Thursday for a couple of hours to show what they had advanced for the big project and the little work the professor left through the semester. You’d arrive a couple of minutes earlier than them since you finished your shift in the restaurant you worked at, and you’d stay there silently scrolling your phone while he revised the shared document. Then, when they all left, you would stay to check with him his work, he trusting you to respectfully correct him and help him just like you did with the others.

It was one of those numerous late nights that, whatever you had, started.

You were biting your lower lip while reading his paragraphs, making a couple of changes every now and then, not paying him any attention on your side, and he doesn’t know what went through his mind, you were calmly doing your own thing, you weren’t any different than usual, with your plain t-shirt and your glasses reflecting the screen light, no colour on your cheeks and hair strings poking out of your ponytail, when his hand moved on its own, accommodating them behind your ear.

Your hands immediately paralyzed, and your eyes stayed glued to the sentence you were about to change, surprised by his sudden action.

‘’Sorry,’’ he apologized, feeling surprised even with himself for doing that.

‘’It’s okay’’ you said and continued.

When you finished his part, you quickly grabbed your things and left, leaving him alone in his apartment with a sour taste in his mouth, repeating in his head how stupid he was for not being able to control his own hand.

You didn’t mention anything about it to anyone, and not that he had thought you would go and scream it to the public, but there was something that told him to be careful with you from that moment on, because you weren’t his prospect, and he couldn’t let you catch unnecessary feelings for him.

The next time you stayed to check his work, he kissed you.

His mind couldn’t function with you around. You, again, had done nothing different from usual, you sat beside him focused on your screen the whole time, correcting his progress, acting as if nothing had happened, making him feel like the only one overthinking the past situation. You showed no interest in him and he had repeated in his head that he should be careful with you that afternoon, he was so into it that when you arrived, instead of sitting beside you until the others got there, he went to his kitchen and rewashed the cups he gave each of them, yet when everyone had left and you were saying something about him reading a certain book to write more about the topic in his part, his hand moved to your neck, and making you face him, he pressed his lips over yours.

He had never done that before, he had never stolen a kiss, even less from someone who showed no interest in him, with no previous flirt and tons of flattering messages directed to him making clear that he could go for it.

You were reluctant at first, not corresponding to his lips movement, mouth hard like a stone. That almost threw him off, but when he was about to leave you, your mouth finally opened to him, letting him interlock his lips with yours, stealing some of your air and sensing the rare softness you had, a touch of inexperience with coffee flavour.

So smart for everything except that, he felt like he could finally teach you something, and that fired the last doubt inside him.

From that day on, every time you went to his house, he would kiss you until everyone else arrived, leaving you with glossy eyes and a different air around you that they noticed but commented nothing about, and when they left and you finished with the last touches of the document, he’d kiss you again, making you bolder and bolder to accept him with every session.

If he went to his kitchen and tapped your hand you would follow him without a word, if the last person about to leave went to the bathroom he wouldn’t doubt to quickly kiss you before they came back, and if you were doing nothing while waiting, he only had to walk to your side for you to lift your eyes and met his lips.

You showed no eagerness to start the kisses, but you always received him with appetite, and that was enough for him to not want to stop.

His preoccupation about you saying something was long forgotten, just in those meetings, even when it was only the two of you, you said no word about the kisses, a silent pact to keep what you had in secret and only behind his doors.

Also, another thing that helped him go around campus with an easy mind was that you showed no intention to change yourself. Usually, when he dated girls they would put more effort into their appearances, they would ask him to buy couple accessories to show off what they were, and then they would match his style, introducing clothes with colours he liked or constantly wore into their wardrobe, like a distinction to show off they were with him, but you didn’t try to do any of that at all, going around with the same clothes, not asking for a single thing from him, not even taunting the idea of having a shared accessory.

You weren’t dating, he knew you didn’t think you were a couple at all, so maybe that was why.

You didn’t ask him what you were, you didn’t pressure him into asking you out, or even insinuate that you liked him. He didn’t understand how you didn’t put any of those cards on the table, you had the chance every time you went to his house, but you didn’t. Seunghan couldn’t understand how you, unlike others, even himself, had no interest in grabbing the opportunity of getting a higher status and being the centre of everyone’s attention, by being with him you could escalate the pyramid, but it seemed like the invisible pyramid he always saw in his head was the last of your concerns.

He was kind of grateful that you didn’t see the point in telling others what you were doing in his living room because thanks to that he felt relaxed beside you. He knew you wouldn’t tell anyone if he did anything wrong, if his lips were too dry when he kissed you, if maybe he was using too much tongue, if his nose kept bumping yours, he didn’t feel the need to think each of his movements or to keep his perfect image, and that finally let him breath and discover how he liked to kiss, helping you discover how you liked it in the way too.

I need to breathe, I want to push my tongue more, can I bite your lip?

Both of you would sometimes throw questions in the middle of the sessions, and none of you judged each other if one wanted to try something new or wanted a break, but they were almost always short ones, enough for you to inhale air for a couple of seconds before Seunghan went back for it.

However, even if he thought the situation was perfect with you not asking for more from him in terms of the pseudo-relationship, he had started to do it without noticing.

Again, he knew how to make people comfortable, and after getting to know you all those days alone, he understood that the best thing to maintain you at ease was directly not trying to hold intruding conversations, but now instead of ignoring you until the next reunion like he always did the first times, he’d send you texts asking if you were going to class or if you had seen the new thing one of the members had written in the shared document, and then when you answered him, he would sneak a personal question in the chat, How was your shift? Did you eat already? What are you doing?

Not thinking too much about it, you gave concise replies and then forgot about him if he didn’t continue with his questions, but you had started to notice his change too, not understanding why he had decided to act like that out of nowhere.

You thought his interest in you was based more on the lack of your enthusiasm to have him around after you two were done, and your indifference to his actions outside his apartment, you thought it was that at least, reason why you felt weirded out every time he asked personal stuff.

You had no expectations of him, you convinced yourself it wasn’t worth it, and you did wish for his touch, but not for his words, not even for his ear to listen to you and agree with what you had to say. You were merely there, ready to accept his lips over yours and ready to leave his house as free as when you entered, which made him strangely confident whenever he was with you, but uneasy when you weren’t.

Still, even if you didn’t try to sustain anything with him, you’d do what he asked you to without doubt, like sitting over his lap when he patted his thighs, or walking to his kitchen when he said he wanted your company until the others arrived.

‘’Why did you arrive so early?’’ he asked one day between kisses. Your soft lips caressing his made him think you had prepared to receive him that afternoon, filling his mind with the idea of you hoping to see him earlier that day and the image of you applying lip balm before crossing his door.

He had you over his counter, your boring and plain blue jeans letting him thrust his clothed erection and enjoy the pressure, but not allowing him to differentiate the form of your cunt over him. That day he was getting impatient with not putting in, the idea had gone through his mind since your last meeting, but you hadn’t shown any intention of fucking him, so he contained himself. That was a step he wasn’t sure he should take alone. Unlike kissing, fucking you would bring another level of intimacy to the dynamic, and he doubted you would continue being the same after that, you were only a girl at the end.

‘’Coworker arrived early’’ you answered. Short, clear, and concise.

You didn’t try to satisfy his greed with an I missed you or an I wanted to see you, you let things go on their own flow, and he liked how fresh everything was with you, almost laughable of how unique your honesty was, and he wanted to keep it like that.

‘’I see’’ he smiled, a part of him disappointed but at the same time relieved.

He trusted you to always tell him the truth, even if sometimes brought him back to reality and humbled a little, he felt better knowing you wouldn’t feed his delusions with pleasant lies.

Everything was going well, each of you without mixing their lives apart from the Thursday afternoon in his house and the short conversations by text, and he was able to contain himself without problem, until that day.

Seunghan rarely had a problem with people from his past, usually once he cut the contact with them, they would get tired of reaching out to him, but this guy was one of the few pesters he couldn’t shake off.

He had been his school classmate in his last year, and Seunghan thought he wouldn’t have to see him again ever again after graduation, but he still called him every now and then to ask him to hang out.

Seunghan definitely had better things to do, but having met him outside his campus and saying hi while he was with his other friends, the boy dragged him into having dinner with other old classmates, making him think that maybe it’d be a good occasion to see old friends again, just a light conversation before they all went to do their own thing.

Seunghan should’ve known better at that point that an asshole would never change.

Arriving at one of the numerous restaurants near his house, he thought that at least, if he got bored, he could quickly escape with an excuse.

At a table on a corner there was his old classmate waiting for him, and the minute he saw that the table was just for two, Seunghan knew no one else would appear.

He tried to run away, but once the other made eye contact with him, it was too late.

‘’Hey man’’ the other greeted him.

Seunghan had no option but to sit.

Immediately he sat the other started to ramble about himself.

Trying to distract himself while the other talked, Seunghan directed his whole attention to the menu.

It was a normal chicken place that worked as a pub at night for groups to drink and play until late, he could already hear a few other people chanting for members to have shots and ordering more and more alcohol, the music was nice and the light was perfect to feel comfortable getting drunk without feeling judged, making him think that, if the other hadn’t lied, he could’ve had a good time with his old friends.

‘’Welcome, what can I get for you?’’

Seunghan instantly recognized your presence, your voice, your aroma, everything.

His eyes shot up and he looked at you, trying to distinguish if it was really you or his mind was playing him a bad (not so bad since he was glad) joke, but there you were, the one and only you.

You were wearing the kind of clothes you’d always wear but with an apron over them and a tag on your chest with your name, clearly showing that you worked there. Unlike him, you didn’t show any surprise to see him, keeping the stoic expression you always had, and the corners of his lips went up without him noticing, a smile almost taking control of his mouth, happy to see you out of the classroom or his living room, but no word came out of him.

Should he greet you like he wanted? Should he call your name and say what a surprise? Should he say he didn’t know you worked there? Because he really didn’t know.

Questions accumulated inside his head, and missing his chance, his old classmate ordered for both, and you, not displaying any disappointment or happiness or any feeling at all, left them alone.

Seunghan started to feel even more down, firmly believing that you decided to pretend you didn’t know him, was that what you wanted? To not know him out of his house?

He knew you would never act giddy to see him, you would never scream his name and run to his arms if you saw him on the other side of the street, but he had hoped that you would at least say hi, to acknowledge you knew each other, after all, you were classmates, and he didn’t want you to act like one of the girls that had a crush on him, but he didn’t want you to ignore him either.

‘’So, what do you say?’’ the annoying guy brought him out of his thinking.

‘’Sorry, what did you say? I couldn’t hear you with the music’’ Seunghan was lost the minute the other started to yap, and he didn’t feel like hearing him anymore, but the least he could do was be polite enough until he said goodbye, the last thing he needed was to hear how the other spread into the chats that Seunghan was full of himself now that he was in college, but the boy didn’t help him to stay calm at all.

Even with the big sign inside every restaurant saying that it was forbidden to smoke in shared spaces, he put a cigarette in his mouth and held it while he searched for his lighter.

‘’My friend has a booth in this club and a ton of pretty girls go all the time, you should come with me, we’ll have fun, and if we’re lucky, a better after night’’ he laughed while lighting it.

Seunghan didn’t want to meet him exactly because of that. They never shared interests, he was a lost cause always living in parties ever since they were in school, and Seunghan could say no to those outings when he was a minor, but since graduation, the other had been more and more insistent now that Seunghan didn’t have enough reasons to reject him anymore.

The other, just like when they were in school, wanted him to show up, attract a bunch of pretty girls and trap one of them to fuck them with his friendship with him as an excuse to appear more desirable.

‘’Sorry, I have class tomorrow early’’ Seunghan said, and trying to fan the smoke from his cigarette the other way, coughed before he continued, ‘’I think we should leave if you want to smoke, there’s a big sign that says not to smoke inside’’.

‘’Don’t worry about that, but talking about leaving, I think you should come with me, my friend always pays for all our drinks.’’

Shit, he started to think. Seunghan perfectly knew that tactic, typical from guys like him with no charm and no capacity to attract a girl that was in their full senses.

He hated that kind of guy, and not wanting to stay with one of them in front of you, he started to plan an excuse to leave, needing to go home and forget that night ever happened.

The other didn’t stop talking or showed any sign of putting off the nicotine stick, making him bite the inside of his cheek anxious with the idea of bringing you problems since you’d have to tell his friend that he couldn’t do that there, and knowing him, he wouldn’t stay quiet with a mere waitress telling him what he could and couldn’t do.

‘’I really think you should put that out’’ Seunghan interrupted him after a couple of minutes. The other was already in half his cigarette and Seunghan had resigned in having to put his pretty clean shirt in the dirty laundry because the smell of his cheap little vice was already impregnated in the fabric that used to have the warm and fruity aroma of his softener.

‘’Don’t be such a bummer man, light up a little’’ he joked. ‘’I’ll tell you something, if you come with me, I’ll stop, what do you say’’.

Seunghan found his offer tempting, but if he couldn’t escape there, how would he escape from the club? Well, he could get lost in the middle of all the people, and he had already decided that he would take a shower again to clean the smell of the cigarette, so it didn’t sound too bad after he contemplated the idea.

‘’Hey, go and fuck yourself, he already said he doesn’t want to go.’’

His friend almost choked with the smoke he was holding inside his mouth when he heard you, and Seunghan’s eyes opened while his mouth and thoughts completely shut down.

‘’What the- do you know her?’’ the last question was directed to Seunghan and he didn’t know what to say, his head almost shook saying no like instinct, but he stopped himself before doing it, staying still.

‘’He doesn’t have to know me, everyone here can hear how you’re trying to force him into going with you, so let him alone before I tell my boss you’re smoking here when that big ass poster clearly says you can’t, or apart from not listening you can’t read either?’’

You said all that without an ounce of fear and Seunghan couldn’t understand what was that feeling that had started to grow inside his chest, was that embarrassment for not being able to talk for himself? or embarrassment for being seen with someone like that guy? He wasn’t sure at that moment, but what he noticed was that it was mixed with another thing, annoyance. However, he didn’t know if it was with himself or with the stupid brat in front of him, and it increased once the other stood up from his seat and tried to lift his hand at you.

It was impossible the guy punched you, but just the idea of him touching you with a single finger made him interfere, something he never did.

Seunghan’s body moved on its own and grabbed him before he tried to even brush you, dragging him outside without giving you a second glance.

You didn’t flinch at all, you had met tons of worse clients, he was nothing to you, and you’d have probably ignored the whole situation if it wasn’t that Seunghan looked so troubled sitting there. You had a pact with yourself to not butt in situations that had nothing to do with you, but you knew Seunghan, he couldn’t say a frankly no for the sake of looking good, and he could easily lead people into leaving him in peace, but the other boy had bad news written all over his face, and you doubted someone as pacific as Seunghan could use his tactics with him.

You watched the drinks on the table, two untouched beers that your manager would ask why they stayed like that there, alone, and unpaid, and you just hoped that little spur of bravery didn’t bring you problems with anyone else.

Outside the restaurant Seunghan left the other guy’s arm free and, scrunching to touch his knees with the palms of his hands, he exhaled to control himself.

He started to count in his head, repeating It’s okay, It’s okay, to convince himself that nothing had happened.

‘’Woah I should talk to the owner, how could she talk to a customer like that, that girl shouldn’t be a waitress.’’

It’s not okay.

Rage started to fill him and for the first time, he felt tempted to use his punch over someone else.

‘’Don’t call me ever again.’’

Seunghan started his way to his house, not looking back, feeling that, if he saw his face again, he wouldn’t be able to control his hand from not flying directly to the other’s eye.

When Seunghan arrived at his house he saw one of the numerous flyers on his entrance, right next to the plate where he left his keys and any little thing that he received or bought on the street, recognizing the name of the restaurant where you worked at, and just there a memory came to his mind, you leaving that little paper with an ugly old design, sighing and saying I don’t know if I’m cursed or anything, but my work seems to never leave me alone.

Now he understood why when he saw the direction the other had sent, he felt so eager to go, because even if he couldn’t remember it, his body did it for him, wanting to be near you.

He tossed his shirt into the laundry. He had worn it that day believing it would still be clean enough the next day and he’d be able to wear it in front of all the group, but especially, in front of you, and when he tried to sleep, but the whole night the only thing that occupied his mind was how would you see him that afternoon.

When the clock marked the hour in which you usually arrived, he started to clean his table, again. He had already spent most of his morning cleaning his place to receive the group, but he didn’t know how to stay still with the memory of the disastrous previous night. He kept wondering, what would you say? Would you think he was like his friend? Impossible. Would you pretend nothing happened like you always did? That seemed pretty possible.

He kept convincing himself to not bother you with questions on his part, like, would you always act like you didn’t know him in the streets? Did he have to ignore you every time he saw you out there? Did you think he was pathetic for not being able to give a straight no? Because he thinking it was enough to torment his night, and sure the next ones would have him meeting the same fate too.

His watch alarm sounded while he was dusting his couch pillows for the third time, making him feel anxious because it usually sounded when you were already there, with him, accepting his kisses and his hands grasping your body as much as he allowed himself.

You didn’t arrive until much later when all the other guys were already there.

At least you took your seat beside him like you always did, making him feel at ease a little bit.

It wasn’t enough, Seunghan felt his hands sweating and he couldn’t stop his leg from moving under the table, so after many lost minutes, he decided it was enough, and tapping your hand he signalled the way to his kitchen, telling you to follow him in silence.

Thankfully, and as expected, you didn’t protest, leaving everyone else concentrating on their own stuff.

When you two got to his kitchen, you perfectly knowing your way at that point after so many afternoons watching him move around, to get busy, you filled his kettle with water to boil it and make more coffee, to have an excuse for disappearing from his living room.

‘’Did you get in trouble after we left?’’ Seunghan started.

You played with the force of the fire in his kitchen, and finally leaving it as high as possible, you answered.

‘’Not really.’’

‘’Will they cut the beers from your pay?’’

‘’Nah, you can have a couple of drinks for free a day, so my coworkers had them.’’

The way you looked so recollected should’ve brought him peace, you didn’t get in trouble, which was good, a happy ending, but he got more stressed.

‘’Why did you get involved?’’ he asked the one thing that bothered him the most the last night.

‘’Are you really asking me that?’’ you laughed, ‘’I just felt like doing it.’’

‘’But why.’’

‘’Why do you care so much Seunghan? I’m sorry if I brought you problems, I didn’t mean to, okay?’’ you wanted to leave the topic behind, so you didn’t look at him, nails busy scratching a point of dust off his counter.

You, just like Seunghan, hated getting involved in uncomfortable situations, but unlike him, you didn’t have the ability to swiftly change topics or help everyone involved feel better, resorting to abruptly trying to end discussions with apologies, to then ignore the problem.

That irritated him, how you avoided his eyes and tried to keep yourself busy to not take your part in the situation.

Seconds passed by, and he could hear the water starting to boil, so he knew he wouldn’t have much time until the others started to wonder what you two were doing in his kitchen alone.

His hand grabbed yours when he got tired of you not looking at him, but you kept your eyes down, directing them to his floor titles this time.

‘’Look at me’’ he ordered, and you, not being able to not follow his words, looked up at him.

The silence wasn’t like the one you had when you arrived, it was tense, and it had started to pick on your nerves, pushing you to talk again. ‘’He was bothering you, and you looked uncomfortable, I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to intervene.’’

His grip on you got softer and he exhaled through his nose, a tenderness installing on his chest with your eyes looking at him and your voice wavering but finally answering his question.

He then felt bad, he was no one to talk to you like that, and he never had discussions like that either. He knew how to keep the waters calm and get the other person to participate in the talk, making them feel heard and making them listen to what he had to say, but with you he forgot how to do that, carrying the conversation to another direction instead of the one he wanted to take. ‘’No, I’m sorry, I just wanted to thank you, I don’t know why it sounded as if I was complaining’’ he said, mind not as foggy anymore.

‘’I’m sorry’’ you said again, making him smile this time, because both of you would never stop saying sorry if he didn’t change the tone of the conversation.

‘’Thank you for helping me’’ he said to leave everything behind on good terms.

You nodded, air less tense and comfortable enough for him to move his body closer to you, and hand in hand, cornering you to his counter, after you moved your eyes from his eyes to his lips, he felt as if he had permission to take his Thursday kiss, giving you a peck, to then leave other, and other, until they stopped being just pecks and converted into a deep one.

His other hand went to your waist, playing with the hem of your long plain t-shirt, they never let him sneak a hand to touch the skin inside because of how long they were, and that kind of bothered him, but at the same time it made him smile with his lips over yours, liking the softness all your clothes had.

He had changed his softener to yours after you told him what you used, it was a cheap brand, but it does the job, and he liked to share something as banal as that with you.

The kettle whistle didn’t make him stop, and with the same hand playing with your clothes, he turned off the kitchen, so it didn’t sound anymore.

He had to prepare the new round of coffee for everyone outside, so after a last long-lasting peck, he let you go, but with one last order before you went outside to sit with everyone else.

‘’Don’t pretend to not know me in public.’’

Time went flying after that, and finally able to concentrate, he wrote as much as he could while waiting for everyone to leave you two alone to continue your routine.

When all of them left, you surprised him once again.

Standing with him, you grabbed a couple of cups to take to the kitchen with him, making him grin because that was just so uncharacteristic of you, and he knew you wanted something else to happen.

In his kitchen, alone, you stayed beside him watching him wash the cups and everything he had used that afternoon while he talked about the book you had recommended to him, and once he finished, he dried his hands on the towel you handed him, to then push you to his kitchen counter and taste you.

Your lips he had missed for a week had a different flavour, sweeter this time, still kind of bitter because of the coffee, but there was just something else.

Perhaps it was because you started the kiss this time, pulling his belt until his chest was touching yours and his eyes looked down at you with attention, or perhaps it was simply something else that he didn’t know, maybe you put more sugar in your drink? He didn’t care enough to keep guessing.

One hand going to cup your cheek while the other roamed your waist, he sighed when over your lips when a whimper left your mouth.

His hips were getting impatient, and he had started to thrust onto your clothed sex without thinking, but it was an automatic motion his body did for him, not that he had thought for so many days how your sweet insides would feel, or taste.

He wouldn’t fuck you; he had decided that.

Kisses were more than enough, he tried to convince himself.

But Hong Seunghan was just a man, and mere kisses were never going to be enough, so pulling apart, he tried to think he was stronger than what he really was, and he really tried it, until you grabbed his hand to cup you.

‘’Are you sure?’’ he asked you, hand cupping your pussy harder but still decided to let you go if you didn’t want it.

He had stolen a kiss from you before, but doing something like that without your firm approbation was too much for him.

‘’Just do it Seunghan’’ you replied, opening your legs for him even more.

You were wearing jeans and the rough material felt good against his clothed erection, but not against his hand, so he opened your button and pushed his hand inside your underwear, feeling your clit and drawing the direction your lips showed him to find your entrance.

‘’You’re wet, been thinking about me?’’ He murmured against your ear.

Your tailbone was against the hard marble counter of his kitchen, feeling the border of it sink strongly against you, but it felt so good to have his hand touching you there while he whispered right next to your ear.

He had you opening your legs for him while he situated himself beside you, one leg between yours, his right hand smearing your arousal, and the other gripping the counter to not get too lost in you.

You didn’t answer, ashamed of letting more embarrassing noises out when he was just taunting you.

He wasn’t doing anything, just feeling you with the palm of his hand, and you still felt something forming in the pitch of your stomach you had never felt with anyone before.

Seunghan knew you were a virgin, he was the one who taught you how to give open-mouthed kisses after all, but you never imagined he would be the one making you feel that way.

You two were so different, you had seen him walking around campus with his friends, his sole presence making everyone turn their heads to him, you would’ve never expected to end in a situation like this one with him, or that he’d be the one taking all the first steps.

‘’Stop laughing’’ you said when he continued still.

You had weeks of building up, going home with your panties dripping after he kissed you until you couldn’t breathe, you needed more, but he wasn’t taking the first step anymore, only kissing you, rutting his boner in your entrance and letting you go with a painful smile.

You were too proud to tell him you wanted more, and you wouldn’t have followed him to his kitchen with the cups of coffee if you hadn’t had enough.

Never helping him that way, tired of doing it every day at your job, you thought this was the time.

This was the time before everything fell apart.

You knew how fragile human relationships were, reason why you didn’t want to have a boyfriend or anything like that before.

You had seen in first person how people could change from one day to another, and how anything, didn’t matter how deep looked like, could end in a blink.

Yesterday you felt it was over, you thought that Seunghan would push you away and the make-out sessions would never happen again, but he had kissed you, so you decided to take the first step to feel him more before everything ended.

You thought, everything would finish at one point in time, and if it wasn’t because of a discussion, it would be when the project was over, whatever happened first, so you didn’t have enough time to be proud anymore.

His hand moving brought you out of your thinking, sliding his fingers up and down your slit, you felt his fingertips brushing your clit, sending a shiver through your spine and making you open your mouth, surprised.

‘’Feels good, right?’’ he asked with a smile, drawing circles and feeling as good as you just by looking at your face showing exactly all you were feeling.

Mouth open and eyebrows frown, you let him do what he wanted with you, trusting his experience to take you to an unknown place.

‘’Answer’’ he ordered, stopping his fingers from pressing that little bud and making you shook your head.

‘’Yes, it feels good’’ you answered, letting your head fall to his shoulder and sighing before grabbing his wrist to move it again, but he was a lot stronger, and you could only wrap your hand around him, not being able to close your fingers of how big he was.

Although he had pretty hands, they were still manly, strong, and a lot bigger than yours, and moving his hand again, he showed you the pace you should take when he wasn’t with you, but you doubted you’d be able to feel the same way if it wasn’t his hand the one touching you.

‘’Remember, just like this’’ he said, flicking his index on your clit and making you whimper.

He had that fucking grin on his face the whole time and you couldn’t dare to look at him, feeling at disadvantage to his knowledge.

You were smart, you knew a lot of things, you proofread his work, you checked everyone’s work, and you know you’re always right when you answer questions, but right there you were nothing compared to him, and that made you furious, but it calmed you at the same time.

He might have that grin, but he was treating you so well, softly showing you how real pleasure felt like, you doubted you would’ve felt that comfortable with anyone else in that situation.

Pushing one finger inside, the middle one, he let the other fingers rest while his thumb continued with the caresses to your clit.

Your panties were slightly pushed down with the way he was touching you, and the hard marble was now touching directly at your skin, but the cold sensation of it with the warmness of his hand made everything better, making you stay focused on what was happening the whole time.

‘’Oh god,’’ you cried when his finger started thrusting your entrance.

The spongy and smooth texture of your walls welcomed him without problem, and he cursed at how good you felt.

Getting dizzy, he thought about how you would receive him, how you’d wrap him, and how he would make you used to his size since he’d be the first person fucking you, which filled his chest with something else he couldn’t recognize, was that happiness? It was more like relief.

But it also terrified him.

The need that was increasing inside him to have you near, close to him, with him, it terrified him.

He’s not used to that kind of emotion, he feels tired of people, he knows that, but would he become tired of you?

‘’Seunghan,’’ you moaned his name, pushing your hips down to his hand so he fucked you with his finger again.

He looked at your face, eyes glossy and red lips after all the kisses and how you bit them to not cry out loud, and he added one more.

‘’Why did you get involved yesterday?’’ he asked you again.

You couldn’t understand his words, it resonated inside your mind, but you couldn’t think of an exact answer with his fingers fucking you harder and faster.

‘’I couldn’t let him… he was bothering you…’’ you said as you could.

‘’Good’’ he said, still fingering you, ‘’Will you ignore me outside again?’’

You were moving in unison with his hand, meeting him each time he pushed his fingers and his palm pressed your clit.

‘’No,’’ you cried, feeling that tight sensation form in your abdomen again, more intense, painful.

‘’Good, now cum’’ he ordered.

You cried on his shoulder pretty loud when he gave you permission, you didn’t know you would need one to have an orgasm, maybe that was why you couldn’t do it on your own, but it was life-changing how real, intense, and amazing, pleasure could be.

Trembling on his chest, your head still on his shoulder, and you trying to catch your breath, he made you face him to leave a couple of pecks on your lips again, almost loving and incredibly peaceful, as if you had done that many times before, making you feel comfy on his presence and with his hand still prying inside your underwear.

A couple of minutes later he helped you pull up your jeans again, but they were a mess, so he made you follow him to the laundry room and gave you a pair of clean boxers.

‘’Better than nothing’’ you said when he apologized for not having anything better.

He gave you a pair of his numerous grey pants and seeing how you were struggling to keep them in place, offered to walk you to the bus stop just in case.

‘’You looked good yesterday’’ you said to fill the silence after many minutes.

Seunghan regretted having offered to keep you company to the stop, walking on an uncomfortable silence that seemed to only affect him, you completely calm beside him, but when you said that, he smiled, feeling glad for doing something different for once.

‘’You too, that apron fits you’’ he said in a teasing tone. For him, it felt like flirting, for you, it felt like it too, but you weren’t used to it, so you only nodded and didn’t talk until your bus arrived.

Even if none of you said it, something had changed in the air after that.

When you met in the corridors, first he’d look at you from the distance, debating if he should get closer and talk or not, but then after much thinking (and many days doing the same thing, staring from feet away), he decided that saying hi to his classmate wasn’t anything out of the world.

The first time your eyes met his and he, instead of looking the other way, walked to you, you thought that something wrong was about to happen, sending a nervous shiver and making you grip onto your backpack straps.

‘’Hey, how was class?’’ he asked, just standing next to you while you waited for your water bottle to be filled.

‘’It was okay’’ you said, still not daring to see his face.

The first times were incredibly uncomfortable, but soon you got used to that, it was just talking after all, nothing special, so you let him talk to you about whatever crossed his mind until he was called by someone in his group, and you had started to accept him more, trying to maintain a decent conversation at least, all innocent and he being cordial with one of his many classmates.

In his house, however, he’d corner you and get you all heated until the others arrived, and when they left, he’d finger you until you came over his hand and cried on his neck.

You didn’t say anything when that happened, accepting him just like when he kissed you the first weeks, and like that, another routine had been formed.

From the first time he gave you a pair of his boxers, he washed your dirty pair of panties to give them back to you the next time he saw you, but that next time you’d leave another dirty pair again (more like, he would snatch them from your hands before you could say anything), changing into the clean pair he had washed, so the new routine would consist in you cumming over his fingers, leaving your wet underwear, and he washing it to have it ready for you the next time.

He never told you because you didn’t ask, but every time you left your panties, he would smell your orgasm on them, jerking off with the picture of you opening your legs for him until he came over the fabric, and appreciating the look of your wet spot with his cum over it, he’d wash them carefully by hand.

You still haven’t fucked.

Things were getting too intimate for Seunghan even if you hadn’t had sex, and he loved it, he loved how you left something yours in his house, he loved to be the only one giving you pleasure, and the only one seeing your face when you had an orgasm, but he had started to ask himself, what did that mean?

He wasn’t your boyfriend, you weren’t his girlfriend, and he enjoyed that silent pact at the start, but so much time had passed that it had started to confuse him.

Next week would be the last reunion before the big presentation, and after that, what would make you go to his house? Did he have to ask you out? Could he really let himself be seen with you in public?

In the confidence of his room, he didn’t have to give anyone an explanation, not even you since you never asked for one, but out there he doubted it could stay like that. He could already notice how people looked at him when he talked to you in the corridor like a mere classmate, what would they say if they knew all he did to you in his house?

Seunghan was so lost, he couldn’t understand any of his actions, not his body making him run to you in public, his mouth rambling every time he had you near, or what he was doing there in front of your work at that moment.

You could go on your own without problem, you’ve been doing it for weeks, you knew his address and his house like the palm of your hand, so he couldn’t understand why all his thoughts told him to go and wait for you to finish your shift and then walk you to his house.

He was looking down at his feet, dusting the dust out of the floor as if it was his job.

His spotless sneakers were kicking air by that point, and he didn’t know if to stay or leave, telling himself to just walk in and order something and pretend he was passing by.

‘’Seunghan?’’ you asked before he could even decide.

You had a couple of plastic bags on each hand that seemed heavy, sure you didn’t only took orders and washed dishes, but he didn’t imagine they would also send you to buy stuff.

‘’Oh, hey’’ he said, trying to act nonchalant, ‘’I was just passing by…’’ you hadn’t asked anything and he was already giving you an answer ‘’and I remembered your shift was about to end so…’’

He had talked incredibly fast, and you almost didn’t understand the last part, but you heard shift and end, so, blinking, you nodded to his words.

‘’I see’’ you said, and silence came to surround you again, ‘’well, it’s true my shift was about to finish, I just had to leave this inside, we can go together to your house if you want’’.

Seunghan exhaled, thankful for you to talk.

‘’Okay then’’ he smiled, giving a few awkward steps to you.

You were pretty close to the local, you were in front of it and only had to cross the street, yet he couldn’t see you struggling with the bags, so taking them from your hands, he walked you inside, only giving them back because you had to leave them in the kitchen.

Sitting in one of the booths, he checked his phone to wait for you.

It somehow felt natural, waiting for you to then go back to his house, and he had a knot in his throat forming with that thought.

‘’Seunghan?’’ he lifted his gaze from his mindlessly scrolling to see the same old friend he had told to never call him again after the incident, ‘’what are you doing here?’’ he then said, looking at him weird out by seeing him alone.

‘’Soobin…’’ Seunghan murmured, he hadn’t expected to see him at all.

After that day he stopped contacting Seunghan just like he had asked, and he had totally forgotten about him until that moment, making him nervous because Seunghan didn’t know how to act with him anymore now that he had seen his uncool, angry and exasperated side.

‘’Are you waiting for someone?’’ he asked.

Seunghan left his phone on the table and, not knowing what to say, only nodded.

‘’I see… well, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry, I made you go through an uncomfortable moment that day, sorry.’’

Not believing what he had just heard, Seunghan, lost at words, only nodded again.

‘’I was really an asshole’’ he laughed, making Seunghan laugh too.

‘’It’s okay, I shouldn’t have reacted like that, I’m sorry too’’ Seunghan finally said.

Standing and giving him his hand, both of them laughed and punched each other’s shoulders.

‘’But tell me the truth, you know that girl, right? The waitress who told me to go and fuck myself’’ Soobin said, laughing even more with the memory.

Seunghan didn’t know what to answer, pushing both hands to his pockets, he bit the inside of his cheek and, contrary to all he was thinking, denied.

‘’Not really’’ Seunghan said, looking at his feet and seeing the light reflection of his blue shirt over his white sneakers, without thinking he had worn the same shirt he had used that day.

‘’Uhm, if you say so’’ Soobin said unconvinced, ‘’she said you had classes together though.’’

Surprised, Seunghan stayed silent, and before he could explain himself, a girl had called Soobin, who said a quick goodbye and ran to her without looking back.

Seunghan saw the other smile at the girl and take her hand, proudly taking her bag from her and putting it on his shoulder as if it was his own.

He seemed happy, and not like an asshole anymore, what seemed unbelievable until that day, making him think that, maybe he was the only one who would never change.

He didn’t understand why he had denied knowing you, he was the one who told you to not pretend to not know him in public, and you had been true to your words, while he, even if hadn’t promised the same thing, felt like a liar.

You came out minutes later, and he had never been grateful to the world for not having you close at every moment, but in that moment, he was, because at least you hadn’t heard how pathetic he was, again.

‘’My boss gave you this, says thank you for carrying the bags’’ you showed him a can of beer, ‘’tsk, I was the one who carried them all the way here.’’

You looked incredibly offended, and accepting it, Seunghan looked behind you, where a big man met his eyes and gave him a thumbs up before he could say anything, and suddenly, he was laughing from the bottom of his heart again.

You smiled with him for a second, and walking out of the local, he told himself to stop being such a coward.

Walking in silence, Seunghan had both hands on his jeans pockets, while you had them over your backpack handles.

‘’I can carry your backpack if you want’’ Seunghan offered.

You denied, ‘’It’s okay, I can do it.’’

‘’I should be clearer, what I meant to say was that I want to carry your backpack’’ he said.

The sun was going down and he could see the orange lights of the sunset, tons of lights were starting to appear thanks to the numerous businesses around there, and he wanted to look at them, but his entire attention was on the way a little touch of red started to appear on your cheeks.

‘’Okay’’ you said, passing him your backpack and letting him carry it for you.

‘’It’s still early, we can buy some snacks before going, is there anything you want?’’ he asked, sliding his arms on the handles, and letting it sit on his back.

It was a bit tight, used to be carried only by you, but he wore it like he could.

‘’I’m okay, I just had something’’ you tried to not look at him, looking at the pavement instead.

He let you go a step in front of him, you had shorter legs and he had no problem reaching you, but he let you, you seemed to want that little distance, and that way he could also see more things of you he hadn’t noticed before.

Your hands didn’t have anything else to grab now that he was wearing your backpack and they seemed unnatural on your sides playing with nothing. Now that he noticed, you were always doing something with them, whether it was writing on your keyboard, writing something, or simply scratching any surface that you had near, but right there you had nothing, and he thought that maybe, he should hold your hand to fill that emptiness.

Not a maybe anymore, his hand wanted to interlock with yours, and slowly approaching you, he almost touched the side of your left one.

‘’If you want to buy something we can stop in that convenience store’’ you pointed to the store next to you, open and almost empty, and he woke up from all the ideas that were lurking inside his mind. To hold your hand, wasn’t that a bit too much for someone who wasn’t your boyfriend?

‘’Yeah,’’ he said, walking in and buying the first chips he saw just to buy something.

You were waiting for him outside, checking your phone, and he couldn’t stop seeing the way your eyelashes were really dark, and how you, just like him, bit the inside of your cheek pretty often.

When he moved his eyes from you to the cashier, he talked before he could think, ‘’One box of condoms too, please’’.

The other boy didn’t even flinch, too used to hearing that sentence, and scanned the little code on the machine.

Seunghan shoved the receipt and the little box into his back pocket, brushing the bottom of your backpack in the way, and his heart started to pound while he held the plastic bag in his hand.

‘’Chips with coffee?’’ you asked with a soft smile, and he showed you a wide one back.

‘’I bought coke today’’ he said, walking next to you the rest of the way to his house.

Getting to his house, he opened the door and let you walk in first, watching you take off your shoes and then turn to him, waiting for him to do the same.

When you showed him your hand, he didn’t understand what you wanted, so he gave you the plastic bag with chips.

‘’Seunghan, my backpack’’ you said, making him release an embarrassed little smile before taking it off and giving it to you.

You grabbed it, and going to his kitchen, you left the can of beer your boss had given to him inside his fridge.

Seunghan walked behind you, looking at you move around with such normality, you had been going there for weeks, and that was the last reunion before the presentation next week, so of course you’d be comfortable enough by that point.

Things with the work were going smoothly, different from all the ideas that circled his mind about you. You had made that tedious job bearable, and he wished all his other projects could go as easy as that one.

They would arrive still in a considerable time, and seeing you bend down to inspect his fridge, he gulped, seeing the little outline of your body swimming inside that oversized t-shirt.

‘’You bought Sprite too’’ you affirmed before closing his door, ‘’what’s the occasion?’’

‘’It’s the last meeting, I thought it would be nice to give them something that wasn’t instant coffee’’ he murmured.

You walked to him, looking at his hand organizing the bags over his counter and folding the plastic bag from the convenience store into a drawer. ‘’The last meeting…’’ you murmured too, not believing that so much time had passed, and how probably that would be your last day together like that in his kitchen.

Catching your attention, a piece of paper was showing in his back pocket, and you shouldn’t have done it, you don’t know why you did it, but you grabbed it, it easily slipped from his jeans without making a noise, so he didn’t notice it, and you and your wandering eyes read what was written in the little paper.

Nothing seemed out of normal, the different chips were listed with their price right next to them, but one word caught your attention.

You had never bought it before, but you recognized the name of the brand, it was popular and all the stores had it, so you had seen it in the health section in the supermarket and posters of it in convenience stores.

Not wanting to make it obvious that you knew, you let the paper fall to the floor when he stood up again.

‘’That fell’’ you said, and he, following your eyes, saw the white paper on the floor, picking it up and making it a ball before he tossed it to the trash can there in his kitchen.

You swallowed the saliva accumulating in your throat, and he didn’t say anything, he didn’t know you had read it, so when the air changed and he met your eyes staring at him, he smiled, thinking it was you wanting a kiss from him.

Getting close to you, things were different this time, he was going just for a kiss, there wasn’t much time before the others arrived, but you put your arms around his neck and opened your mouth, wanting a deep one this time.

Sliding his tongue and caressing yours, one of his hands went to your back, feeling the clasp of your bra through your shirt, while the other shamelessly went to the small of your back, drawing lines and circles just to keep his hands busy.

You whimpered and he couldn’t help but push his mouth even more against yours, pressing you to his counter and groaning when he heard another whimper come from you.

‘’The others are going to arrive in any second… I’m sorry’’ he said.

‘’Why are you sorry?’’ you asked.

‘’Because I can’t make you cum, there’s not enough time’’ he sighed before giving you a peck over your lips.

‘’Later then?’’ your voice almost broke and he saw your brown eyes gleaming, thinking how they were the prettiest pair he had seen, and how they were focused solely on him.

He nodded, ‘’Later.’’

When the others got there, they all focused on giving the presentation the last touches, and once they were done, they all celebrated with the chips and the sodas Seunghan had bought.

‘’I’ve never had a group work as much as this one, I’m thankful to all of you for coming here even with your busy agendas, thank you for everything’’ Seunghan said, making them all smile, and of course, the praises for him didn’t take much to appear.

Everyone left not much later, and being alone, you helped him recollect the cans and then step over them to recycle them.

Finishing the work in silence, you helped him clean, and once nothing else was there to do, Seunghan made you follow him to his room.

You haven’t been there many times, but you remember it, you remember the dark blue walls, and his black furniture, especially the way even his window frame was black too.

It looked like someone had designed it for him, knowing his style, just like his whole house, and you couldn’t help but feel the difference with your place when after spending hours there you had to ride the bust to your little studio apartment.

But Seunghan had never shown any sign of caring about the difference in your situations, he knew you worked in a half bar half chicken restaurant, that you used cheap softener for your clothes, and that you repeated outfits many times, but he had never commented about it.

You couldn’t help but feel kind of special, and just that day, when you saw him waiting for you in front of your workplace, you felt your heart flinch, because not even in your wildest dreams you had thought you would see that scene.

You knew him enough to know he usually overthought things about others and how they saw him, needing to appear perfect all the time, but even with that in mind, just perhaps, things were different with you.

Closing his door while you saw the pictures he had on his desk, you didn’t say a word once he got behind you and one of his hands rested on your abdomen.

You let him kiss you again, receiving him and giving him your full attention, to him, to his fingers, and to the way he wasn’t containing anymore.

He made you walk to his bed with him, and pushing you there, he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

‘’I’ll take it off’’ he said, and when you nodded, he showed you a smile, ‘’I’ll finally see what you have there.’’

‘’Shut up’’ you laughed and lifted your arms, so he took it off.

Showing him your chest, you felt exposed, it was the first time you let him see you like that, he had sneaked a hand before, but he never took off your t-shirts, not even your jeans, touching you inside your underwear and making you cum with his fingers before he gave you your clean pair of panties and let you change yourself while he turned to watch a wall or went to put his shoes on while you changed alone in his room.

His eyes on your chest made you conscious, and he noticed it, but even if he wanted to stop so you felt comfortable, he couldn’t.

‘’They’re pretty’’ he said, and you gave him a half smile, not daring to see his eyes inspecting you.

His hand caressed your cheek, so you looked at him again, and trailing down the valley between your breasts, he smiled when you whimpered at his hands cupping your tits.

Nipping the naked skin that your bra let him see, he felt the softness of that part of your body, looking up to your face to not lose your reactions.

He took off the pretty blue shirt you liked to see him wearing, and that part of him naked, he showed you his tender skin, white, spotless and as pretty as him.

Of course, he’d look perfect without clothes too.

He didn’t unclasp your bra, he pulled it down, which felt uncomfortable, but you couldn’t say anything when his lips went to your nipples and left soft licks over them, making you arch so your chest continued meeting his mouth.

Untouched down there, you were sure your panties were already a mess since he kissed you in his kitchen hours before, and needing him, your hand went to his erection.

You weren’t that bold before, you could press your cunt to it when he asked you to sit on his lap, but you never touched it.

You wanted to touch it so bad, you let him keep attending your chest while you grabbed him over his pants.

‘’I want to touch you’’ you admitted, and he, without the smile you always saw, pushed your hand away.

‘’Not yet’’ he said, moving away and unbuttoning your jeans.

You, again, helped him to take it off you, lifting your hips so you helped him.

With hands sweating, he tosses them to the side and sighs glad that they didn’t slip from his hands. You looked so fucking good under him, nude bra down enough for him to see your tits, and a blue pair of panties that definitely didn’t match, but for him, they looked amazing together, because you were wearing them, and that was enough.

Looking at you, he can’t help but admire all the little places he wants to mark, the side of your neck, your collarbone, your chest, your tummy, and his eyes go all the way down until he sees the inside of your thighs.

Creamy, soft, sweet, they were calling for him, and without saying anything, he went down to taste them.

You let him, you just let him, and adoring the way you wordlessly opened your legs for him, he bit you there, breathing over your underwear the aroma he recognized a bit too well, leaving little pecks until, after pushing your panties to the side, left a single long one over your clit.

Glowing under his bedroom light, he can’t help but give big licks, down and up, recollecting your juices to taste you properly, and like he had been wanting for so long every time he smelled your panties in the confidence of his room.

All those times making you cum with his fingers and containing himself from dropping to his knees and drinking your orgasm to push another one had come to that, and he couldn’t stop now.

Tongue flat against your clit, he made you squirm, but maintaining you on your place with his arms under your thighs and his palms over your tummy, he made you accept him.

‘’Wait- Seunghan’’ you said, propping on your elbows and looking down at him, the sight of his dark eyes meeting yours and his mouth working so eagerly over you making your head spin, and one of your hands, needing to touch him, went to his hair to feel him.

With shaking hips, you met his mouth whenever his chin went upwards, pulsating against half of his face and leaving a mess.

Your pretty pussy lips had a reddish colour, furious with him and his teasing, so to alleviate them a little bit, he inserted two of his fingers in one thrust.

You didn’t need preparation for that, he knew you could take them, so many times cumming over them, your entrance recognized his fingers as an invited guess, so you could only cry when that little place that he always found squelched.

Cursing, you let your head fall, and arching your back, you came with his fingers and his mouth, legs almost closing around his face but being stopped by his big hands.

He left a mark of wetness over the place he touched with the fingers he had pushed on your insides, and you knew you were dripping all over his bed, yet you couldn’t care less.

He pushed down his pants and his underwear, kicking them away from his feet.

‘’Come here’’ he called you, and you, still not back in your senses but always listening to him, sat in the border of his bed as you could.

With drowsy eyes, you gulped when his member stood in front of you. Looking amazing, you didn’t know if dicks could be pretty, but that was the only adjective that came to your head when you saw it.

Pink, veiny, and long, the tip was slightly thicker and darker, and you waited for him to tell you what to do.

His palm wrapped him in front of you with one hand, and with the other, he grasped on your hard nipples begging for more attention, while your pussy was leaving a big spot over his bedsheets with how wet you were after he made you cum once.

‘’First use your hand, okay?’’ he said, and you didn’t need to hear anything else before your hand went to his member, ‘’you seem to like it’’ he snickered.

He didn’t want to tease you, he didn’t mean to, he’s not used to doing that, not even with his exes that could easily form comebacks and throw them at him, but with you, he couldn’t help it, so gorgeous, quiet, and always accepting, his ugly side kept floating out, and he liked your voice telling him to shut up or the almost mute giggles that escaped your chest.

‘’I like it’’ you said, and he licked his dry lips, watching you attentively. The way your wrist did its best to move in and out, and seeing your mouth get closer to his shaft, opening and letting the tip touch your tongue, made him groan.

‘’Take your bra off’’ he ordered, needing to see your tits bouncing with the little force you were using to jerk him off.

He suddenly remembered each time he jerked off to the smell of your panties and the memory of your eyebrows frowning when you came thanks to him, and he smiled, proud of seeing you so eager to attend him too.

His little doll, after all those orgasms, would you say yes to anything he said?

When you toss your bra away without stopping your licks to the tip of his cock, he knows the answer is a yes.

‘’Try to take a bit more’’ he inhaled hastily and, helping you do your job more comfortably, with his hands he pushed the loose strings of hair away from your face.

The first day he didn’t understand why his hand moved on its own to push that hair behind your ear, but now he sees that little dot on your cheek, close to your ear, and he thinks that he did it to see it without any obstacle covering it.

You opened your mouth for him and let him slide deeper, half his cock is inside you, and you looked at him with teary drunk eyes.

He moans at the image, so pretty for him, all for him, he’s the only one who had seen you from that angle, and he hopes it continues being like that.

Your cheeks hollowed and you tried to take more of him, stopping your lungs from taking air in so you could suck him better, and he could see it, he could see you struggling and doing your best for him, so he pressed a thumb on your cheek to show his approbation.

You thought he was getting bored, his usual smile was not there, and his eyes were looking at yours too much, so you stopped to make sure you were not doing all that for nothing, ‘’Sorry, am I bad?’’ you asked with insecurity pouring out of your eyes.

He shook his head, his little genius was all nervous and unconfident, and he felt like he had hit the fucking jackpot seeing such a tranquil and collected girl ask him if she was doing a good job at sucking his cock.

‘’You’re perfect’’ he assured, guiding his cock back to your mouth, to which you answer by letting a bit of spit over his tip, smearing it with your lips kissing him and taking him again.

Where the fuck did you learn that? he asked himself, but with the security of you not doing it from someone who isn’t him, he only sighed and let you continue.

Seconds later he felt himself getting closer, and he can’t let himself cum in your mouth, he needs to do it in your insides, so telling you to stop, you do as your told, watching him in your spot searching his jeans and the box of condoms he had bought in the convenience store on the way to his house.

He opened the package with his mouth, and you remembered all those times you’d heard you shouldn’t do it like that, and echoing inside your mind, you pushed those voices to the back when you pulled down your panties and kicked them under his bed.

‘’This is how you put one on, the next time you’ll do it for me, so watch’’ he said, and you nodded, juices leaking with the idea of doing it for him the next time.

He teaches you how to grab the pointy start with his fingers, and how, with the help of his other hand, you’ll have to slide the latex all over his length, until it ends a finger away from the base of his cock.

You batted your eyelashes without thinking, imagining how the pressure of him opening your insides would feel, and to that your thighs shook with excitement.

He kissed you to take away the last doubts you could have, not knowing that you were yearning for it as much as him.

Helping you lie on his bed with him between your legs, he pushed you more into the mattress so he could kneel over the same bedsheets you’ve been dripping all over.

‘’Tell me if you want to stop, I know it can hurt at first, but I’m confident you’ll take me without problem’’ he said, brushing his tip over your clit and then going lower to put it on your entrance, only pushing his thick tip inside, stretching you enough to make your breath get all messy and your mouth fall open, pushing the air out of your lungs with the sensation of his cock finally fucking you.

‘’Fuck’’ you cried, feeling more of him slide in, and he tried to not show how much he was feeling to not make you nervous, but your gummy walls were so hot he felt like he was melting inside you, and that stole the last sanity he had, biting his lips to not let any embarrassing sound out.

‘’I told you, you could take me’’ he said proudly when his entire dick was inside you, and you cried a needy yes and searched for his eyes to look at how good you were being for him.

Your legs were as wide open as they could, and you pulled him in for a kiss before he rutted into you.

He wanted to be soft, it was your first time, and he knows how important it is for most girls, but you make him so crazy he’s forgotten how he did to not act on his wishes anymore.

His hips clasped with yours at that pace and you cried with each thrust, trying to not be too loud with the hits, however, the curve of his cock was making punching a certain place that feels more intense perfectly, and soon you were gripping onto his bedsheets to get a hold of yourself.

His mouth launched to your neck, chest pressing yours while fucking you, and he started to leave little spots on your neck and collarbone while one of his hands moved from your hip to the wrist of one of your hands, holding it there to feel you closer.

You were practically stuck to him, yet he needed to feel you more, and soon he was pushing your thighs to your chest to watch and confirm how deep inside you he was.

Looking at his cock disappearing inside your plump lips, he frowns because its all so perfect, you under him, taking him after all those weeks, and his thrusts became harder, touching the deepest part of your insides to pull out until the only thing connecting you to him was his fat tip, to then harshly pound into you again.

It’s all so messy he can see you dripping on his bed and how the lube appears dull compared to the glow of your juices on his pelvis.

A moan almost escaped his throat when he saw little tears falling on your cheeks, he knows they’re not from pain, and that’s what pushes him to let his grunts and moans out.

‘’Taking me so good, I’m the only one who can make you like this, right?’’ he asked, but it sounds almost like begging, and you didn’t dare to tease him as he did with you.

‘’You’re the only one’’ you cried while his dick kept punching your insides.

‘’Fuck, I’m going to cum’’ he warned, covering you with his body but not crushing you, his weight doesn’t affect you and you wanted more, so the hand he wasn’t holding moved to his back and scratched him, making him hiss and move his hand to between your bodies, to thumb your clit and push you to cum with him.

Twitching inside you, he came while murmuring a soft my girl, and you tried to ignore those words, thinking that was just something that came to him because of pleasure, and that he would forget later.

He fell over you, this time he felt heavier, but you still didn’t mind, and pressing the tip of your fingers over the scratches you left on his back, you sighed, relaxed to have him there.

‘’Sorry,’’ you said after, when you were on his bed and he was showing you his back, only wearing his boxers and searching for your shirt while you were covering yourself with his bedsheets.

‘’Why?’’ he asked curious of your words.

‘’Your back’’ you answered, and he turned to see the side of his back in his mirror, which indeed, had lines done by your nails.

He smiled and walked to you, sitting beside you and caressing your cheek before he trailed his fingers to your neck, touching the purple spots he has left.

‘’Then I’m sorry too’’ he said, making you smile too.

‘’Maybe we should stop saying sorry’’ you laughed.

‘’Yeah, maybe we should’’ he answered, laughing too.

He didn’t know what else to say, but he didn’t want to be a coward anymore, and he wanted to say something because he wanted to, not because he thought you were the one who wanted to hear him saying it, and if he was being honest with himself, he knew you wouldn’t like him to say what he was about to anyway, because you, just like he does often, think that you know what he’s thinking, so he guessed that you were probably thinking a way to leave his house to not be a bother to him, but he didn’t want that, and he knew you wouldn’t know it unless he said it.

‘’Stay with me’’ he said, it sounded almost like a command, but you knew it was a question.

‘’Okay then’’ you said, accepting to stay with him, sounding nonchalant, like he usually did, but you looked as relieved as him, and he felt glad that he finally took a step further.

#riize x reader #seunghan x reader #riize smut #seunghan smut #riize fluff #riize scenarios #riize imagines

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xhoneygirlxx · 4 months

Text

this is gonna sound dumb but I just know Eddie would be so lovesick over you that he’d do anything just to make you like him.

let’s say you two are best friends, have been for the past seven years, but Eddie wants more than that. the only issue is the metalhead doesn’t think you’d ever go for someone like him.

that doesn’t stop him from doing any and everything to make you look at him. for example you said one time you like guys who take care of their hands, so he went to the nail salon and got his nails cut and filed topped with a pretty black color because let’s face it, his chipped polish and bitten nails didn’t cut it.

you had mentioned that having a good skin care routine was a green flag so he spent hours on tik tok, not to mention he spend a butt load of money on products, in the hopes you’d notice his newly stocked bathroom.

there were so many things you talked about that he did just in case it could help his chances with you - so far it hasn’t worked. now that the two of you are older, even though you’re only in your mid twenties, your it seems your taste has changed just a smidge.

it was one night of beer and pizza, the two of you talking about any and everything, when a small secret passed your pretty glossed lips.

“Honestly, I’d fuck Hop.”

you said it so nonchalantly, like you didn’t just say you’d fuck the sheriff of Hawkins and the father of El. Eddie sat flabbergasted, truly in disbelief at your admission.

“It’s the get up, ya know? Love me a man in uniform.”

your voice was dreamy, sweet and innocent, the complete opposite of the statement. and despite the want to make fun of your little crush, Eddie took that information and stored it for later.

that’s when two months later you found him in his room, all sweaty in a grey Hawkins PD Academy tee shirt and blue gym shorts, doing push ups. he tried to brush it off like it was no big deal, saying it was because he wanted a new chapter in his life, but in reality Eddie put himself through training just because you said you liked the thought of it.

although it took you many years, maybe too many, to realize this fool was completely and utterly in love with you. you do end up rewarding him anyway by climbing on his lap and riding the absolute shit out of him.

someone write this for me so I can yearn going into the new year

#I will pay someone to write this #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #honey’s rambles

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thestarrynightslover · 8 months

Text

Whatever Comes

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,147

Warnings: A lot of angst. Mentions of blood, life-threatening injuries, hit-and-run, fracture wounds, and miscarriage.

Summary: Doctor (y/n) (y/l/n) and Jay Halstead are secretly dating when there is a terrible accident involving (y/n) and a lot comes to light.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Okay, so this is my first fic in a long while and I don't think it's all that good but I had to restart somewhere, so I hope you like it anyway!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

You had just gotten out of your car across the street from the side of Med and, as you were making your way through the bit of road that led to the hospital, a car comes into the driveway — screeching tires, in full speed — and runs you over long before you could even see anything and, there, in the matter of a few seconds, everything goes black and you’re left bleeding out in the street.

Almost an hour later, after you had regained consciousness and had begun dragging yourself, very slowly, towards the hospital, Will and Ethan, about to go inside Med, spot you and run your way eager to help you out — even if they hadn’t known it was you at first.

“Oh man, it’s Dr. (y/n) (y/l/n)!” Ethan exclaimed.

“(y/n), can you hear me?!?” You sort of heard Will ask through your dizziness haze.

“Wow, you’re actually shorter this up close than I had imagined at first.” You attempted a joke with your friend, momentarily gaining some clarity.

Ignoring you, Will just asked no one specifically, “oh Lord, how long has she been bleeding out here?”

Decisive as always, you heard as Dr. Choi commanded, “I don’t know but, come on, Will, let’s carry her to the ED!”

As soon as your friends get inside the hospital with you, everybody stays in shock for a moment until Maggie yells: "get her in treatment 4, now!"

Following her lead, Will and Ethan get started on treating you, who has a few broken ribs, and free fluid in your belly besides from a punctured spleen. Having done their best in the ED, they decide to send your upstairs for surgery with Crocket.

Once you're going to surgery, Miss Goodwin tells Maggie and the doctors to call PD and specifically ask for Intelligence, since you were friends with the unit. As the cops get there, one stands out: Jay Halstead. He's frantic, devastated-looking, just completely lost, and desperate to hear more news about your condition. No one really understands why he is reacting like that, but all of them do share the fear of losing a great friend. Voight's giving out assignments to the team, so Jay knows that that's when he needs to speak up.

"Um, sarge?" All eyes are on him. "If you and the team don't mind running one man short today... I was hoping that I could, um, stay here with- with her?" Hank just stares at him, unlike everyone else — who are shocked — the older man's focus is on his detective's eyes, on the way he was so distraught from the moment they got the call about (y/l/n). That was the behavior, the look, of a terrified man. And, as everyone there knew, Jay Halstead — the freaking war vet — wasn't one to get scared easily. "(y/n) and I-"

"It's fine. No need to explain. You should stay here, Jay. Let us know, in case anything changes. And we'll catch the son of a bitch." He said firmly, making Jay feel as appreciative as ever, and, also, sending an implicit message to all the other members of the unit, one that said: we work this with all we got right now, for (y/n), and for Jay, no questions asked.

After the officers left the hospital, there was still a big commotion from everyone who stayed, because it was one of their own up there in the or. But, surpassing everyone else's, was Will's surprise by how distraught Jay looked, especially considering how his little brother wanted to stay at the hospital, instead of going to find who hurt you. So he comes to confront the detective about it. "So... You and (y/n) are a thing?" Will asked, trying to understand. Since Jay just nodded his head, he decided to push a little further: "And... Were you ever planning to tell me? What the hell, man?"

"Will, I-"

"She's one of my best friends, Jay! Not to mention the fact that I'm the doctor who oversees her work here!"

"Will you put it down?" Jay pleaded with his brother, motioning him to a more reserved corner of the waiting room. "I know, okay? I know. And I'm sorry if it upsets you, man, I really am. But this could've blown her career. That's why we hadn't told you yet." It was clear that Will didn't exactly like his brother's explanation, but he knew it was true.

"Just... How long?"

"Um, about six months?"

"Six months?!" The doctor yelled in shock, then repeated it in a lower tone. "But, six months?"

"Yeah, I know it's a lot of time keeping you in the dark, Will. But, trust me, we weren't thrilled about it. And we were hoping to tell you soon. I swear." Jay said, and his brother could, once again, see it was the truth.

"So, that means that when you started seeing each other she was still finishing med school?"

"Yeah, that's right. Which was, like, the main reason for us to keep it under wraps. An intern dating the attending doctor's little brother? Wouldn't look good."

"That's true..." At that point, Will took another look at his brother. Jay looked so worried and scared, even while trying to hide it. "So, uh, you guys are serious?" That question got a little smile out of the detective.

"Yes, we are. I know that it is new for you... But, I love her, Will. I really do." He took a moment to breathe, not being able to hold back some tears this time. “And, I can’t lose her. I just can’t.”

“Jay…” Will started saying but didn’t quite know how to continue. What could he possibly say to comfort his brother right now? “We just… We just gotta stay hopeful, okay? (y/n) is a really tough person and Dr. Marcel is a great surgeon, you know it. She is gonna pull through.”

A lot of disquieting hours later Crocket finally comes out of the surgery, just to be met by a very worried hospital staff and an on-edge Jay Halstead.

"Where is sh- How is she? Is (y/n) okay? Can I see her?" The detective hovers, not even taking a breath.

"Wow! Uh, you gotta calm down a little, buddy."

"Don't give me that crap! Just- just tell me how she is!" Jay shouts again, not giving a damn about what anyone was thinking. You were the only thing on his mind right now.

"Alright. But try to keep breathing, okay?" To that, the other man didn't even bother to answer. "Okay, um, it was a very complicated surgery, I had to do a lot of cleaning and moving around to get to the worst parts and-"

"Can you please just cut to the part where you tell me if she's okay? No offense, but you can fill me in on the details later." Jay stated nervously. It wasn't just that he wanted to know what was the result of all those hours in the or, but, also, because Jay knew he wouldn't understand half of what Connor was saying, even with the simplified language. You would. But not him.

"Right. Okay. She's, um, she's okay for now. We'll need to monitor her on an hourly basis, though." By that point, the surgeon could already see the relief on both Halsteads' faces, so he went on. "We controlled the bleeding, but, with all the blood loss," he stopped to take another look at the detective, "I'm afraid," another pause, because, sure he had delivered this kind of news before, but this time it was a lot harder, because those people were his friends. And, what they had just lost, he had just lost too, in a way, "we couldn't save the baby."

"The baby?" This time he got an answer from both brothers.

"Uh, uh... You, uh, you didn't know she was pregnant?" Crocket asked, kind of already guessing the answer while sharing a look with Will.

"Oh my God..." It was all the youngest Halstead managed to let out. Seeing how his brother was unable to react any further, Will decided to step up and ask the tough questions.

"So, um, if everything goes well from now on, you think that (y/n/n) will make a full recovery?"

"Ahhh, yes, actually. She was in great health, so, after making it through, uh, through the night, she shouldn't have any major issues." At that point, Marcel himself was trying to be as objective and as doctorish as possible, in order not to make things worse for the man who had just heard that he lost a child he didn't even have a chance to wait for.

"So, is it, um- is it possible that she didn't know about the pregnancy yet?" But, damn it, Will just kept asking all the impossible questions.

"Uh... It is, actually. Very possible." Hearing that, the detective immediately glued his eyes on him. "We estimate that the fetus was about seven weeks. It's very common that women on birth control haven't found out about it at that point." As neither Halstead said anything, Marcel continued, "well, she's up in the ICU now and in and out of consciousness but, if you want, you can see her for a few minutes."

Hearing that, the detective came out of his haze and said: "Yeah, I wanna see her!"

A few hours later, as Will Halstead gathered his things after finishing his shift, he decided to go check on you but got surprised when he realized that his brother was still there, in the waiting room. "Jay, what are you still doing here?"

"I'm waiting," he said simply.

"Jay." Will called again, "you can't do this, you need to go home, get some sleep, eat…"

"I'm not leaving her alone."

"She's not gonna be alone, Jay." Not getting any response, Will decided to lead with something else. "You know, Voight called Goodwin and said that they're hitting a lot of walls in the (y/l/n) investigation…" Measuring his brother's reaction, Will continued: "Maybe they'd have better luck working with the whole team…"

"Yeah, you're probably right. Tomorrow I'll tell Voight that I want in on the investigation." Jay said, not making any sign of wanting to leave.

"Jay, you can't work tomorrow after staying here the whole night!" Seeing his little brother still not intending to leave, he threatened, "if you don't go home right now, I'll call Voight myself and tell him that you're in no shape to work-"

"Oh, c'mon! You're gonna do that!"

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," Will said, looking as serious as they get. "Look, Jay, you know she's in good hands here. And, whatever happens, you'll be the first to know, I've made sure of it."

"But-"

"But nothing, Jay! It's time to go, come on!" Will pressed so much that Jay resigned himself to do as his brother told him.

For almost a week, you stayed in the ICU. For almost a week, Jay Halstead passed by Med on his way to work and on his way home from work.

Once you were moved to a room, Jay started feeling like he could finally breathe again, even though there was now the baby that someone had still to tell you. And, after chatting with Will and Crockett, Jay had already decided he was gonna be the one to deliver the news to you. So, one day, after Intelligence had already caught the drug dealers that were running away when they hit you, Jay asked Voight for the afternoon off to take you home from the hospital.

When you were at your place, you asked Jay what was going on: "Hey, you didn't say a word on the way here, is anything besides the fact that I just spent almost two weeks in the hospital and that everyone found out about us wrong?"

"Let's sit down for a minute, babe."

The minute he said that, you knew there was something really wrong.

"Okay, you're scaring me…" You said while sitting down on the couch.

"I just- I have something important to tell you," and, like that, Jay proceeded to tell you the worst thing you ever heard. It's not like you'd been planning on becoming a mother or anything like that anytime soon but it was still a possibility that was brutally taken away… You and Jay cried together for the first time and, consoling each other, you felt your relationship growing stronger.

So much so that after some time you could start talking about the future that both of you foresaw with one another and, even though nothing was completely decided, there was one thing you knew for sure: as long as you were together, you could face anything.

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slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 2 months

Text

Don’t worry about him

Summary: Derek makes a comment about you being too clingy and it upsets you more than you’d like to admit

Word Count: 1.5k

Fluff, kissing, slight self doubt?

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

!NOT PROOFREAD!

Reader pov:

“Are you like glued to her? If my girlfriend was that clingy I could not cope, it’s like being suffocated surely!” Derek taunted as he saw me clutching Emily’s hand on the jet. I instantly let my hand fall out of hers as I laugh it off with the rest of the team. He says stuff like this all the time, why does this one kinda hurt? Am I really annoying? Does Emily not like it when I hold her hand? Am I suffocating her?

Emily must’ve seen the slight falter in my features because once everyone was back in their own conversations, talking theories about the case, Emily placed her hand on my thigh and started rubbing it soothingly. I looked up to her already looking at me. Her brown eyes held a sympathetic expression, I gave her a weak smile and placed my hand on hers. I looked away and started listening to the others talking about the case again.

Time skip to when they’re at the local PD:

Emily’s pov:

I realised through the day y/n’s been pulling away from me, being more distant. I swear to god if it’s because of what Morgan. Anyway, we don’t normally have much pda out in the field, or at work because of keeping it professional obviously, but even when I graze my fingers over her back she’s pulling away. It’s not like her at all.

I walk over to where she’s standing looking through evidence and place my hand in hers.

“Hey you okay?” As soon as I finished my sentence her hand was out of mine already.

“Yeah, fine. Why? You okay?” She responded, sounding deflated.

“You don’t sound okay honey, and you keep pulling away from me.” I hold her hand again and this time she keeps hers in mine, that’s progress.

“Yeah I- uh just. Ugh it’s stupid. I’m fine I promise.” She put on a bright smile and stuck her pinky out in my direction, an adorable tradition of hers. I link my pinkie around hers and place a delicate kiss on her forehead.

“Okay, if you say so.” At that moment Derek walks in followed by JJ and Spencer.

“You still at it? You always this clingy y/l/n?” Jesus, read the room Morgan. She let go of my hand once again and hung her head.

“Hey leave her alone, just because you’re single doesn’t mean everyone else has to be miserable!” JJ teased, instantly jumping to y/n’s defence. I give her a look to say thank you as Morgan holds his hands up in defence. Just as he was about to say something else Hotch walked in.

“We have him. Everyone in an SUV now, Garcia sent the name and location to your phones let’s go!”

The drive to the unsubs house was, not awkward, but different. Y/n didn’t even spare me a glance, Derek was in the back so I didn’t dare reach over to try comfort her, he’d just say something again. I love him like a brother but sometimes he’s just so annoying. We begin to slow down and I look and see that we’re already at the place. We all get out of the SUV and make our way to the front, Spencer and Rossi take the back, me and y/n take the front door, Morgan took the left, JJ took the right and Hotch trailed behind in case anyone needed support.

We breached the front door and found the unsub holding a woman with a gun pointed at us.

“FBI! Mike McAllister put the weapon down!” I yelled as we got in his line of sight.

“You don’t wanna do this James, you’d be just like your dad.” Threatened y/n, a good move on her part.

“You take that back!” He screamed at us, his hands shaking trying to keep the gun steady.

“You’re no better than him if you do this. In fact, you’d be exactly what you made him.” The unsub looked between me and y/n after I said this. I glance towards her to make sure she’s okay, she looks back and silently tells me she’s fine.

“Oh, you’re gunna be sorry you ever said that.” The unsub warned through gritted teeth. He looked me dead in the eye, and then pointed the gun at y/n.

Reader pov:

The son of a bitch just shot me. What on earth? I was pushed back by the force of the bullet hitting my chest - that was thankfully covered by my bulletproof vest - winding me slightly.

I looked back at him after I hear another shot ringing through the house a split second after the first one did. The hostage had run to Hotch in the fuss and Emily had pulled the trigger. After confirming he was dead she came back over to me.

“Hey, are you alright?” Emily fussed as she placed her hand on my back, her eyes were darting all over me to check if I was okay.

“I’m okay- yeah I’m good.” I splutter out, still a little out of breath. She gently pulled the bullet shrapnel out of my vest and ushers me outside to go see medical to double check everything.

As we were walking there em kept putting her hand on my but I just kept shrugging her off. I didn’t want to be clingy or needy just because I was mildly injured. Especially since Morgan was walking up to us.

“Damn you okay?” He asked as I sat on the edge of the ambulance.

“Yeah fine, I’m fine.” I say while removing my vest. I could tell Emily wanted nothing more than to hug and comfort me right now but I don’t want to be clingy and rely on her, like Morgan said. Ugh I need to get him out of my head.

Time skip to when Emily and reader are back home after the case

I walk into mine and Emily’s shared apartment and put down my bag. I let out a big sigh and go to walk to the kitchen for a drink when I feel two hands on my waist that hold me back.

“Hey you.” She muttered as she gently pulled me backwards into her. My from now pressed against her back she spoke again, “What’s gotten into you today? You wouldn’t even let me near you after you got shot y/n/n. What’s going on?” She was lightly swaying us side to side as she spoke while leaving featherlight kisses on my neck and shoulder as her head snaked round the side of my own.

I shake her off yet again and turn to face her, “Nothing I’m okay I told you. I just do t want to you know, suffocate you by being clingy. I didn’t want to annoy you at work either so, yeah. Just after what Morgan said. I mean he was probably just being him but, it got me thinking that I probably do suffocate you and I’m really clingy I’m sor-“ It was as if she didn’t even want those two words to come out my mouth because as soon as Emily caught wind of what I was about to say, her hand came up to cup my cheek and pulled me into a sweet, comforting kiss. Our lips moved together and it was like her kiss was the antidote for all the anxiety I’d been feeling all day. As soon as her lips were on mine, I temporarily forgot all about what Derek said and how it got in my head.

My arms snaked around her neck and hers found home around my waist as she pulled me flush against her. She pulled away but just enough so that I could still feel her warm breath dan across my face. “Don’t worry about him. Morgan I mean. He doesn’t mean it, he’s just lonely, believe me. I love it when you grab my hand or lean on me. It’s comforting, for me and i’m assuming you too. My love, being clingy isn’t a bad thing and honestly you’re not even that clingy Derek’s just being a moody man who isn’t getting any. I love you so much honey please don’t let him get to you.” She kisses me again at the end of her speech. A much needed speech, that is, on my behalf.

I pull away and look her in the eye, trying not to stare and get lost. “Thank you em, I really needed that.” She just smiled and mumbled a ‘You’re welcome.’ As I pulled her into a bone crushing hug. My head fell into her shoulder and I mindlessly played with her hair as her hand ran up and down my back.

Screw Morgan’s stupid comments.

(A/N: I LOVE MORGAN SORRY FOR LOWKEY MAKING HIM THE BAD GUY BUT HES THE ONLY ONE WHO WOULD TEASE ABOUT THIS!!)

#wlw #lesbian pride #wlw fanfic #lesbian #sapphic #emily prentiss #criminal minds #wlw pride #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x female reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic

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transmascaraa · 3 months

Note

HIII!, i rlly love your fics and this is my first time requesting one, so, can i get a reader with gaming and lyney that tries to hide her sickness because they don't want to worry them? (pd: they faint at the end, a little of angst and fluff)

multiple characters headcannons!

you try to hide your sickness...

characters: gaming, lyney x gn!reader

author's note: YIPPIEEEEE GUESS WHO GOT HIS MOTIVATION BACK???!?!!?!?? (i am not okay at times) TYSM FOR THE REQ ANON<33 I HAVE A FEW TO DO TONIGHT BUT YEAH IT'S MIDNIGHT OFC I'M FEELING MOTIVATION RN (i have 15 reqs i feel famous i'm literally at 196 followers i'm not okay i got to 100 like a week ago)

☆ Gaming

-you'd try to hide it and he would notice that SOMETHINGGG was wrong but didn't want to push you about it

-he may have asked you if you're okay more than usual but you thankfully didn't realize it

-so one day, he decided to confront you about it

-YET YOU STILL DENIED ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING???

-now he's begging for you to take a break, he hates when you're sick, and js wants to help you as much as he can asap

-but you're stubborn so that's harder for him

-after a few more minutes of "arguing" you stand up with a frown and you want to got to your bedroom.

-unfortunately, just when you stand up, you feel as if you're able to faint. fall to the floor. hit your head on the table. lose consciousness-

-he catches you and immediately lays you on the bed, asking you if you're okay.

-"y-you almost fainted, are you okay, my love?" then he apologized for being "harsh/too pushy" on you even tho he wasn't

-now you're sure that you can't hide it from him anymore...

✯ Lyney

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-he would realize something was wrong before you noticed it yourself

-and he wouldn't confront you immediately, no, he'll wait to see if you'll be brave enough to tell it to him yourself

-so days pass... a few weeks... and in his eyes, you got worse.

-so he sits with you on the couch one day and starts talking to you about something random, getting to the desired topic soon enough.

-he doesn't want to be pushy yet he doesn't know how else to do it

-so you keep insisting that you're fine, that nothing is wrong.

-he was patient tho, he was trying to do everything slow with you, to not rush with anything. that he knows you trust him.

-you get tired of it, and just slowly get up.

-but... you end up almost fainting.

-the only reason why you were still conscious was because lyney caught you on time and just put you on the bed.

-you'd expect him to ask you if you're okay, however...

-"see? you're not alright, mon amour." kissing your forehead with that annoying smirk of his.

-that idiot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I REALLY LIKE THIS

i do

i think it's nice tbh

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin fluff #gaming x reader #gaming x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #genshin x you #genshin x reader #love them both

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lalal-99 · 25 days

Text

of sex at parties {h.j.} | track 4

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 6k

Synopsis: The one where you play Truth or Drink and things get a little heated.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: I know, I know... I wanted to have shorter chapters and update more frequently. But life happens. And it just so happens that I rediscovered my love for music making and production (not that anyone cares or even reads my notes). These things tend to engulf me fully and don't let me go until I'm forced out of them. When will I post the next chapter? Who knows? Could be tomorrow. Could be in two months (not likely...).

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You

“That’s almost too easy! Fuck Psy, Marry Bang PD and Kill JYP. Next!”

Yuqi’s answer sent Hwasa into a fit of laughter, almost bursting her pipes as she spat her drink into the nearby sink.

“Girl, you got some explaining to do about that.” When Wheein had prompted the blonde, she likely hadn’t expected an answer within two seconds.

“What do I have to explain about that? JYP was the obvious choice for Kill. Psy is famously known as the mother-father gentleman, so Fuck. And Bang PD…He has that TXT money. So, marry him and hopefully prevent him from signing any kind of prenup.” Yuqi took a sip from her cocktail, shrugging. The answer sent Hwasa straight into another breathless cough while her girlfriend steadied her. Otherwise she would have also sent her head straight into the marble countertop.

Two hours of dancing and three of Yuqi’s mysteriously strong cocktails after your arrival, you found yourself back in the kitchen. While all your closest friends surrounded you, everything seemed just a bit brighter. And a bit more funny too, with the alcohol running through your system. You were so relaxed even, you had somehow agreed to playing a few rounds of Truth or Drink. That you barely knew these people, or maybe because of it, you found yourself enjoying it more than usual.

So much so you had played it for the past 20 minutes, passing around questions with one simple rule. Either answer or empty your drink.

Sure, the gamification of drinking wasn’t the most intelligent decision. But it also gave you the perfect opportunity to get to know each other better. So, what the heck!

“Okay, fair.”

Yuqi spun the bottle once Wheein had passed her answer as acceptable. The rim landed on Changbin this time, the only male in your group. Leaned back against the counter, you had almost forgotten he was present. Well, almost, hadn’t it been for his visible affection for Yuqi. He always laughed at her answers a bit too loud, looked at her a little too long. She had ignored him for the most part, though you doubted it was out of spite or disinterest. She didn’t even realise his attempt to grab her attention; too drunk and into the game.

Changbin waited for her question, watching her lips move as she phrased it seconds later.

“Body count. Go!”

A little cliché, yes, though the boy seemed indifferent about it.

“Depends. What body count are we talking about?” Changbin counter-questioned as he crossed his buff arms over his bottle.

“What kind of freaky stuff are you into that you have several types of body count?”

Redness spread from Changbin’s cheeks to his ears as he shifted.

“I’m not into anything weird,” he defended, embarrassed by her suggestion. “I was talking more about sex or, like, mouth and hand stuff.”

“Alright. Let’s do sex.” That gave him base to answer.

“Then two.”

“Two?” Hwasa was surprised, leaning forward as she propped herself onto the countertop. She was a little shaky, swaying back and forth on her elbows.

“Yes. You sound shocked.”

“Why so few?” Yuqi’s filter had subsided somewhen between drinks four and five. The words simply tumbled out of her mouth at this point.

“Because,” Changbin shifted his weight onto the other leg, stalling. Not that his answer was particularly weird as it was double your body count, after all. But you couldn’t deny your own surprise. Until now, he had seemed very sure of himself. Carrying himself with a fair amount of self-confidence; almost oozing sex-appeal. You, too, had expected his body count to be much higher. “I don’t sleep with anyone I’m not involved with. I had two long-term relationships in High School, back-to-back. So, two people’s not weird.”

“What about the hand and mouth stuff body count?”

Changbin smirked at Yuqi’s curiosity, bringing his bottle to his lips, “Only one question per round.”

“Suspicious,” Yuqi’s eyes narrowed, “but alright.”

“Great, my turn then.” Changbin spun the bottle and the cap-part landed on Hwasa. She straightener her back, daringly waving her hands at him.

“Hit me!”

Contemplating his options, Changbin took a few seconds to find an appropriate question. Which wasn’t easy seeing he didn’t know and had barely spoken to her. “Okay. What was the most public place you ever had sex in?” Considering the expected sexual direction this game had taken, the question was fitting.

Hwasa ran her long nails through her hair, eyes fixing on Wheein in deep thought. “There’s been a few. What do you think, babe?”

“I don’t know. The whirlpool at my parent’s house?”

“Nah. That’s still pretty private. Your parents weren’t even home.”

Searching the mental drawers of her brain, Hwasa found a more fitting memory. She sent a knowing look towards her girlfriend, logging in her final answer. “I know. When we did at the movies.”

Wheein cocked an eyebrow as she took a strong sip from her drink. Her gaze, meanwhile, remained fixed on the colourful liquid, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah... That wasn’t me.”

“Of course it was!” Hwasa exclaimed, gesturing with her hands to revive the memory. “We watched that awful Tom Cruise movie.”

“I’ve never seen a Tom Cruise movie in my life.”

Hwasa should have left it at that, but her intoxicated brain didn’t take the hint. Knowing the crucial details of their backstory together—courtesy to Yuqi and her impressive interrogational skills—you sent her warning glares. Though she was too focused on her girlfriend to notice.

As extroverted as you had learned her to be, Hwasa had her fair share of relationships in the past. She had been with many men and women alike; some more serious and others not so much. Like her friends-with-benefits situation with Jackson, for example. After dating a lot through High School and the first two years of college, she eventually met Wheein. They loved each other very much, as anyone could tell after spending a few hours with them. An unspoken dynamic remained nonetheless, with Wheein being far less experienced.

She had been with men only for the first 20 years of her life. It took her another year to realise why her interest in them had never stuck. And another year after that to come to terms with her sexuality. That’s when she met Hwasa, their eventual relationship the first serious one she had ever been in. Let alone with a woman.

For as much as they loved each other, Wheein became insecure whenever Hwasa mentioned her previous partners.

So, yes. Hwasa should have probably let it be. But she didn’t.

“Erm, we sure did. I can’t believe you don’t remember. We got one of those loveseats in the last row, but the movie was so bad we started making out and stuff.” She didn’t need to explain and stuff further for you to know what she was hinting at. “I distinctly remember because my hair kept tangling up in your earrings. Almost lost an ear for sex that day.”

Clearing her throat, Wheein stepped back to lean against the counter, arms crossed. “Wasn’t me. See.” She lifted her hair, showing her ears to her girlfriend. It took a few seconds to realise her ears weren’t pierced. “It must have been one of your exes.”

A veil of tension spread over you at the hint of malaise in her voice. Hwasa’s cheeks heated up, a manicured nail between her teeth at the realisation.

“Oops.”

Despite the music blasting through the speakers, the silence was thick. It broke only once Yuqi spoke up. You had never been happier about her ability to find the place to pick up previous conversations.

“I had sex in a whirlpool once.” Heads turned in her direction as her face scrunched up at the memory. “Very sexy, but not comfortable. And then there’s the issue of protection. Who in their right mind carries a condom when sitting in a whirlpool?”

“So? What did you do?” Changbin’s curiosity was very sparked.

“We took a chance.” A shockwave overtook the crowd as though Yuqi had said something controversial. “I know. I’m not proud of it, either. But as I said, it was very sexy, and we didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

“I definitely do not recommend taking a chance. Especially not for the sake of not ruining the mood.”

All eyes turned to you as you spoke, only acknowledging your words once they had come out of your mouth. Maybe you should go slower on the alcohol, as your body started to act on its own account.

“Speaking from experience?” Hwasa questioned with a smirk as you took another sip from your drink before finally setting it down.

“A friend of mine,” you explained, crossing your arms as you leaned against the fridge behind you. “She winged it once and got pregnant.”

“Damn! How old was she?”

“14 and a half.”

“That’s rough. Did your friend keep it?”

“He’s turning four in November.”

Most colour drained from Yuqi’s face at those words and a shudder ran through her body. “Now I’m kinda glad the only thing I got from my story was a cold.”

The crowd fell into a bunch of giggles at Yuqi’s honesty, the tensive mood finally fading. She should consider her ability to cut right through tension a gift.

Your gaze tiptoed through the doorway into the living area where they met a familiar figure. Over the past half-hour, you had searched his attention on occasion. The alcohol in your system encouraged the search for proximity to Jisung. Now that you had reached the early morning hours, the crowd started dissolving, and it became much easier for you to follow his movements. That he had the same urge for your closeness hadn’t gone by you. Several longing gazes had found you, which the vibrating egg inside you had at least some part in.

Jisung was still with most of his friends—sans Changbin, who was with you, and Felix, who had left a while ago. Instead, a few girls had entered the chat, most prominently a girl around your age and height. Why was she so prominent? Well, she seemed to find anything and everything your boyfriend said hilarious. She threw her black bob-cut-hair back so much, you feared she'd break her neck. She had started a conversation with your boyfriend earlier and now hung on his every word.

While you had checked their whereabouts at first, you stopped once you noticed Jisung’s nonverbal cues. The constant gazes your way and his lip wandering between his teeth with every uncomfortable chuckle. They told you he did anything but enjoy the banter the skimpily-clad girl had engaged him in.

Your suspicion proved correct when Jisung reached into his pocket and the vibrations picked up. Reassurance, that while he was talking to someone else, his mind was still entirely with you.

You probably should have helped out your boyfriend. You knew he couldn’t act on his unwillingness to continue talking to her. Though Jisung had to learn to handle such situations at some point. And you were having such a blast with your friends, so you let him be. The group was still debating their most public sexcapades and your head turned back as your lips wrapped around your bottle.

Apparently, your diverting glances hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Are you not bothered by that?”

Looking down at yourself, you feared your outfit had malfunctioned in some way. You knew you shouldn’t have worn a skirt to a frat party, but Yuqi had convinced you out of your faded black jeans. You always wear them. Spice it up a little. Unbeknownst to her, you had already spiced it up, the egg inside you rubbing against your walls with delicious pressure. But you still let yourself be talked into the skirt. Now, you regretted all your life decisions as a group of people stared at you.

“Why? What is it?” You searched your outfit for the origin of Hwasa’s statement.

“I’m talking about your boyfriend. Talking to another girl.”

You found the two of them again, eyes wandering up and down the girl’s sporty figure. Her long legs were clad in skin-tight jeans that reached her narrow waist. A crop top and pair of spotless white sneakers rounded off her athletic look. Her hand ran through her jet-black hair and that was all it took to detect that she was flirting. If her longing glances at Jisung hadn’t already been hint enough.

“And a pretty one,” Yuqi added as you focused on the group again, shaking your head.

“Not really, no. Why? Should I?”

“I don’t know. I’d be if it were my girlfriend, talking to her.” Wheein blushed at Hwasa’s words, damage control overshadowing her previous insecurity.

“I wouldn’t be too worried,” Changbin interjected, grabbing your attention. “She’s been coming on to each of us at least once tonight. She started off with Chris and made her way down the line.”

“Even if she didn’t. They’re only talking.” You met Jisung’s gaze, his lips morphing into a smile once he noticed. The vibrations spiked on cue, and it took a little more focus from you not to react. “I trust him.”

Little could have destroyed the trust you had for each other. Either of you understood that you had gotten lucky. Being with your best friend and finding your soulmate this early on. Apart from that, neither of you had ever given the other a reason to mistrust them. You were smart enough to not let anything risk what you had.

When Jisung excused himself from the group, your sense of awareness was proven yet again. He left the girl mid-conversation to join your separate party which filled you with pride. His cheeks squished into their usual round shape as he beamed at you until he landed at your side.

“Are you talking about me, or am I so pretty you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

Your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you from behind and his chin landed on your shoulder. “It’s when he says things like that, that I know I’m stuck with him for life.”

The girls and Changbin chuckled at your words, Jisung meeting your gaze with a frown.

“What?”

“Nothing, baby. I love you.”

The stupid grin forming on his lips warmed your heart. “Love you, too.”

Your group picked up their game of Truth or Drink while your boyfriend stood wrapped around you. You tried focusing while Hwasa spun the bottle to land on you. The alcohol in your system caused a constant buzz, goosebumps rising as she asked you about secret kinks.

Your friends went positively berserk when you told them about your exhibitionistic tendencies. Not you. Not well-behaved Y/N, who never even swore. You refrained from further mentioning how you sometimes ditched underwear in everyday situations. Yuqi’s eyes would have probably bulked out of her skulls, comic-book-style. You also didn’t note your fondness of public play, fearing Hwasa would suffocate, forgetting to breathe.

“Sorry, but I can’t believe we could walk in on you two getting your freak on, entering a lecture hall. Or the cafeteria. Or the football court. Although…Would we walk out on you in that case?” Hwasa questioned once she had found the brainpower to pick her jaw up from the floor.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you told your friend in amusement. “We’re pretty good at hiding. You wouldn’t even know we’re there.”

A whole new set of toxins filled your bloodstream as you talked something so dirty. Quickening palpitations were enforced by your boyfriend, pulling you closer against himself. The mere mention of your spicy secret was enough to drive him crazy. He seemed even more excited, being the only one knowing you were living your kink right that second.

Your very sexy, very tempting boyfriend shared your interest in all things exhibitionist. Although you usually kept the PDA down whenever around people. Sure, you exchanged kisses here and there. But even hugging typically only occurred when no one was around. It was somewhat precautional. So people around you weren’t even slightly suspicious when you decided to go commando. Or if either of you controlled whatever Bluetooth vibrator the other was wearing. No one would suspect anything like that from the couple that hardly held hands in public.

Your friends accepted your revelation after many more questions, which remained unanswered. They went off-topic—or rather, off you as the focus of it—as they debated their willingness to have sex in public. And you didn’t dare complain.

This way, no one noticed Jisung’s hand creeping up the back of your thigh until he reached your ass. He kissed the back of your neck, blowing cool air against the moist skin as it tickled you. Trying to stay calm and keep your secret antics secret from your friends was half the fun. You bit the inside of your cheek as his breath tickled you, his teeth soon moving to nibble at your earlobe.

The two of you swayed to the music, concealing your ass which was grinding against his growing bulge. It was no surprise when you felt him stiffen against the movement, a proud smirk appearing on your face.

Your ability to turn each other on in seconds was still as present as during the first few weeks together.

“Baby,” Jisung hummed against your ear, hands grabbing your hips to still you.

“Mhm.”

The music was loud, and the people around you were drunk enough so no one could follow your conversation.

“It’s been about three hours of me playing with you like this. How about we tend to that upstairs bedroom situation?”

“I don’t know.” The wondering tone in your voice was fake, teasing, and Jisung could tell. “I’m not convinced. Also, kinda having a blast here.”

“I don’t think this is a matter of conviction,” Jisung whispered, lips wandering over your neck. His hands travelled under your shirt, fingers digging into your flesh as he manhandled you towards the exit. “It’s been over a week since we last did it. You’re as desperate as I am.”

“Am I?”

“We should go upstairs. You know, to check.”

Inspecting your surroundings, right now seemed the best possible moment to leave. Everyone was deep in conversation, attention straying from the two of you.

“Okay. But let’s make this quick. Wouldn’t want to miss too much of the party.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m gonna be real fast.”

Jisung took you by the hand, leading you out of the kitchen and towards the staircase at the back of the room. You looked back at the group as Oohs and Get Its were thrown your way and gave your friends a thumbs up.

From that moment on, your mind was on Jisung.

You ran up the stairs behind him, and into the dim, unoccupied hallway. Once you had ensured you were on your own, you pulled Jisung back to finally kiss him.

His hands came to your hips on impact, keeping you steady against him as your mouth opened to let him in. Tongues intertwining and teeth clashing, he stepped forward, pushing you against the wall. Jisung didn’t take a breather, grinding himself against you and giving you no time to think. People could have come out of one of the rooms at any point, catching you. Not a hint of secrecy remained as the alcohol and your boyfriend’s tasted roamed your veins.

Soon enough, his mouth travelled down your jaw, tongue meeting the skin of your throat in a longing suck. He went all in, his hands running up your body until he met your breasts. The pressure against your throat provoked a throaty moan.

You hummed at his actions, feeling even more desperate for his full attention.

With your hands in his hair, you pulled him closer to your chest, his lips soon pressed against your cleavage. It reddened under his kisses and your breathing accellerate as he rubbed over your nipples. H knew your body better than you, strong arms keeping you in place as he handled you the way that always made you go crazy. Made you crave him.

“Baby—” you groaned into the air, head thrown back to grant him more access to your neck.

“Told you, you were as desperate as me.” The smugness in his voice remained uncommented as both his hands dipped under your bra. He pinched your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs and you ground yourself against him. A gush of wetness filled your panties as though they weren’t already soaked. It had been hours of him, controlling the vibrations inside you. “I bet you’re leaking out of your panties.” Jisung’s hand ran down your side until it reached the edge of your skirt. He felt below it, fingers dancing over your hot skin until his palm landed at your centre, cupping you. A groan left his lips. “Mhm, just like I said. You’re dripping.”

“Fine. You caught me,” you admitted with a sigh. “What are you gonna do about it, though?”

His face remained close as he turned the vibrations to the max, giving you no chance to prepare. Bending your knees at the rush of pleasure, you moaned into his mouth, pleading up at him. With his hand still cupping you, he could feel every contraction of your walls. Two of his fingers pushed the egg deeper into you. His palm against your clit further increased the electricity coursing through your veins.

“Did you say something?” Your mind blurred from the vibrations as mumbled pleas tumbled over your lips. Jisung smirked at your inability to form words, the toy slowing down after a while. “Didn’t think so.”

When he opened the door to the first bedroom he found, you followed him inside. Before he could even ask you to strip, you were already starting to undress. You were about to take your skirt off when Jisung stopped you with a request you couldn’t find it in you to deny.

“Leave it on.”

Of course, your insatiable, horny boyfriend would want to fuck you in a mini-skirt. You hadn’t worn anything that short in years. Add stockings and a cropped Rolling Stones shirt, and this would have come close to the outfit you had met him in.

Jisung removed his clothes, tight jeans requiring more attention as he struggled pushing them over his erection. After watching him take forever to rid himself of the confines, you decided to help him. Guiding his hands away from his crotch, you took over. A suggestive smile played on your lips as you held eye contact, dragging the pants over him and down his toned legs.

He expected you to lay back down once he was freed, letting him push you back into submission. Though, you had other plans at that moment.

Stripping your boyfriend of his briefs, his length looked too delicious to let the moment go by. So, you leaned in and took him into your mouth.

First, you concentrated on the head. You let the tip of your tongue dance over him before adding further lip action. After mere seconds, he was red and swollen, droplets of white crawling down the sides. He was twitching against your lips, head rolling back at the delightful dissatisfaction. Slow-paced ministrations were as arousing to him as they were frustrating, so you already expected his irritation.

Not a minute later, Jisung’s hands crept to the back of your head, attempting to guide you further down. In the current power position you found yourself in, you wouldn’t have any of that.

“Don’t move, baby. Let me take care of you.”

“’s not enough,” Jisung mumbled but complied, hands resting on your cheeks instead. “I need more.”

“I know. Just enjoy.”

You moved back to his head, sucking at him as your fingers dug into his thighs. They twitched against your touches, every other suck making him weak in the knees as they buckled.

Once Jisung started panting, you sped up, fitting more of him into your mouth. You could tell it became harder for him to hold back, hips bucking into your mouth on occasion. You didn’t stop him, enjoying his despair for the warmth and the lustful sight only you could provide him with. It made you feel powerful, the dominant side overtaking the logical one as you took him as deep as possible.

Gagging around him, a breathy “Fuck!” escaped him as he got oh so close to his orgasm. At some point, he must have taken the remote control out of his pocket. As he was nearing the edge, the vibrations increased, causing a moan to slip past your lips and around his length. He stifled an ecstatic scream with the back of his hand.

Your performance suffered for a mere second and Jisung took the opportunity to pull out. With new-found energy, he shoved you to lay on your back.

Typically, you held the more dominant position in bed. Sending your boyfriend to heaven by riding him like there was no tomorrow. All the more exciting was it when Jisung was so on edge he couldn’t stand your teasing. When he couldn’t wait to be inside you. That’s when he used his physical superiority to overpower you and have it his way.

You definitely had a soft spot for how he dominated you when he was particularly desperate.

With your back against the mattress and his arms on either side of your waist, there was no way for you to get up. Jisung used this advantage to connect his mouth to your breast, sucking at your nipple like you loved. Your eyes rolled back at the incredible sensitivity of each of his touches. After spending significant time at your chest—granting both sides the same amount of attention—he kissed his way further down. He flipped your skirt up and over your stomach, your underwear long stripped and you left exposed.

Desperate to get inside you, you expected him to remove the vibrator and replace it with himself. When he started kissing your thighs and stomach, you were surprised. Though you didn’t dare complain. Not when his lips burned your skin, threatening to leave lingering marks.

“So sweet.”

He didn’t mean for you to hear the whispered words against your core. The smile creeping onto your face turned to a loud moan as Jisung dove in. His lips found your clit, wrapping around it in a harsh hug. When he started sucking on you, the vibrations speeding up again, you believed you saw stars.

Your vision blurred, eyes moving to watch him, but you could barely make out shapes. Too overwhelming was his mouth on you, hips soon rolling against him to urge for more speed. A smirk against your flesh was followed by him repositioning your legs over his shoulders. It made him feel so much closer, your bodies basically becoming one. His mouth practically glued to your cunt.

At first, Jisung kept an agonising slow pace, eating you like he had all the time in the world. After a while, as your breathing sped up, so did your boyfriend’s mouth. For every count that your heartbeat accelerated, so did he. Licking a little preciser, sucking a little fiercer. All the while, he was grinding against the mattress, chasing his own release which was fast approaching. So much so you could tell from the humming against your core that sent shivers up your spine.

“Sungie—” you breathed out, hand coming to his hair to stop him. “Baby. Inside. Please.”

As he didn’t react at first, you thought he hadn’t heard you. You repeated your pleas, and finally, with a wall-tightening pull on your clit, he removed his lips from you. “I heard you the first time. Just couldn’t bring myself to stop yet.”

His words caused a breathy chuckle out of you as he took the vibrator out of you before kissing his way back up your body.

“You have protection?” you questioned as your fingers grazed his cheeks, heart eyes staring into your boyfriend’s.

“Always.” Connecting your lips in a soft kiss, Jisung got up for a few seconds to search his pants.

“Good thing we’re always prepared, huh?” You propped yourself up on your elbows as you watched your boyfriend take his wallet out of his pocket. All the talking about public sex and taking chances had unlocked some long overwritten memories, and you chuckled with an uncomfortable shiver. “At least now we are.”

The look on Jisung’s face faltered as he went through every compartment of his wallet. Once, twice, and then a third time. You could tell from his expression that something was wrong. “Actually, about that…”

“Don’t tell me you don’t have condoms.”

“It seems like I forgot to fill up my stock. Don’t you have one with you?” Jisung asked, searching for your clothes on the bedroom floor.

“Have you seen my outfit? I barely have enough room for my phone.”

“Oh, I have seen your outfit, alright.” A suggestive smirk followed his reply as he climbed back over your body. “That skirt is doing things to me I can’t possibly put into words.”

Kissing you with more passion, Jisung’s lips soon wandered down your neck again.

“I could pull out.”

The laugh coming through your lips as you tilted your neck for better access was much sarcastic. “Have you learned nothing from the past? We are not taking chances.”

“So, we’re supposed to not have sex instead? Have you learned nothing from the past 20 minutes? We need this.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, view roaming through the room. Jisung’s gaze said something along the lines of ‘You have a plan, right?’. And a plan you had. Rolling out from under your boyfriend, you crawled over to the nightstand. “What’s one thing every frat always has at hand?” You pulled open the upper drawer, feeling its content as a smile spread on your lips. “I knew it.”

With an overjoyed “Yes!”, Jisung grabbed the silver square from your hands, opening it with his teeth. “This screams for a celebration?”

“What did you have in mind?”

The ambiguous grin crossing your boyfriend’s face made you curious and aroused you simultaneously. From experience, you knew his ideas in this area never quite disappointed. Most of them added into your bedroom routine; adapted into your standard practices.

Jisung soon crawled back over your body, erection pressing against your entrance as he held the vibrator between his fingers. “Baby?”

“Ssh.” One of his fingers came to your mouth as he smiled at you, happy. “Just enjoy.”

When he slipped inside you, your walls instantly wrapped around him. Sculptured for his exact shape and size. Having him this close, hitting your spot as though he himself had placed it right at his tip, filled you with complete satisfaction. You could have remained in this position for hours. Being close to him. Warming him. Though soon enough, the calm inside you was forced to evacuate, the electrifying vibration of the pink egg meeting your clit.

You jumped at the feeling that was only enforced as Jisung started moving. Rapidly. Sending you to heaven within seconds as you crumbled around him. Nothing but his name escaped your lips, like a holy mantra.

It didn’t take either of you long to finish, both of you on edge from having waited over a week to be together like this. Which, quite frankly, rarely happened. And when the orgasm finally hit, toes curling and walls crashing, it sent him into his own high.

It took you minutes to come back down to earth.

“Damn.” You chuckled, agreeing, and your eyes met when you tilted your head to look up at him. You rested on his chest as it rose in unison with your breathing. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You kissed for a while, simply enjoying the intimacy before you pulled away to get up from the bed.

“You want to go back already?”

While you retrieved your clothes from the floor, your boyfriend still laid in bed, naked, propped up on his elbows. “What? You need more aftercare or something?”

“Nah. I thought you might. That was really intense just now.”

You pulled your top over your head, tugging it in your skirt before strutting towards him. With your fists planted on the mattress, you bowed over him, giving him a long, heated kiss. He bit your lip as you drew away, one of his hands coming to your jaw to keep you still.

“I need to pee.”

“Wow,” Jisung replied with a giggle, letting go of your face. “You’re nailing the dirty talk, baby.”

You blew a kiss at him as you walked to the door, leaving the room to find a bathroom.

A long hallway with a handful of doors on each side opened before you. The house was much more spacious than it appeared from the outside, fitting around a dozen people. And that was just the first floor. Any of these doors could lead to a bathroom but this was somewhat urgent. So, you opted for a rushed yet systematic approach.

You chose the door next to the one you had come out of, finding nothing but an empty bedroom. Much like the one your boyfriend was currently dressing in. The door after that was some form of storage unit, the only thing close to a toilet a bucket on the floor. If your search came up empty, you might revisit the idea.

One after another door led to more disappointment. Not until you opened the last door on the left side you found a room that wasn’t an unoccupied bedroom. It still was a bedroom—very much so—but it wasn’t even close to vacant.

The layout came into focus, illuminated by a ring light standing in the corner. As you further roamed the room, you spotted two bodies pressed together in the comfort of one of the two beds. You had no idea how you even got a close enough look to realise you knew one of the two people. It was likely your eyes, meeting for a second. That’s when you recognised his signature freckles, his face dropping as panic overshadowed.

“I’m sorry.” As fast as you had entered the room, you left it, eyes wide in confusion and surprise. It took you less than a few seconds to add two and two together.

Before you could think further about it, you got pulled out of your haze by none other than your boyfriend.

“Found a bathroom, baby?”

“Huh?” He tiptoed towards you and a grin spread on his features as he inspected a stinging hickey on your neck.

“Bathroom?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t find one.” You smiled as he pulled you closer, kissing the dark mark. “I’ll use the one downstairs.”

“Let’s get back then. Wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun, right?” A wink followed his question which you didn’t have the mind to return properly. You couldn’t quite forget what you had seen, hands entangling with your boyfriend’s as you threw one last look back into the hallway.

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honey-words · 11 months

Text

spider boy — spider-man!midoriya izuku x reader

synopsis: you’ve talked to your neighbor a few times before and have waved at him on campus. But you’ve noticed he keeps really weird hours, sometimes hearing him go into his apartment at ungodly hours of the night. So when spider-man enters your apartment one night, it’s easy for you to connect the dots from there.

content warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, hints of angst, hurt/comfort

wc: 3.1k

author’s note: I believe in spider-man!deku supremacy :)

part 1 of the spider boy series

“Spider-man does it again! Only three blocks from the UA university campus, the masked hero—”

“You’re a spider-man fan?”

You jumped, almost dropping your phone and falling off of the bench in the process.

“Midoriya! You scared me.”

He laughed and you paused the video you were watching, a news clip from this morning. He settled down beside you on the bench, taking a sip of his iced coffee as he did.

“Yeah, I guess I am a fan,” you said. “Campus PD sucks and I think it’s funny a spider guy is more reliant than all of them put together.”

You both shared a laugh.

“I have to get to class,” Midoriya sighed, not making any movements to get up from the bench. “How’s Moony?”

“She’s great, thanks for asking,” you said, smiling back at him. Because Midoriya was the definition of a perfect neighbor. He had introduced himself when you first moved in and he saw the small cat carrier with a little black kitten, Moony, inside of it. From there it had been a pleasant acquaintanceship between the two of you.

“I’ll see you later, then,” he said, really standing up this time. “Bye!”

You waved goodbye as he left, then turned back to the video.

A thief had been running loose on campus for the last week, snatching cell phones and wallets from unsuspecting students on their way to class. Campus PD had found the thief this morning, literally on their doorstep with a sticky note that had a spider sketch stuck on his face.

A smaller feat of Spider-Man’s, but a good one nonetheless.

During your first lecture of the day you could see other people were watching the same video and reading the accompanying article. It was the first time Spider-Man had acted so close to campus, practically on the grounds of it considering where he had turned in the thief.

The person in front of you had a Reddit post pulled up, and you had to bite your cheek to refrain from laughing as you read the title. Spider boy or whatever is totally a UA student. Here’s my proof!!!!

Finding the professor’s lecture increasingly dry and dull, you decided to pull up the Reddit tab on your own laptop so you could read it, too.

By the time the lecture was over you had read the entire post (it was surprisingly long) and all of the comments underneath it, half-convinced of the theory yourself. It made some reasonable arguments—Spider-Man stuck to the surrounding city, usually went around at night, rarely seen throughout the day—keeping with the schedule of a college student. Sticking to the surrounding city pointed to the fact that he lived near campus. And the latest crime he’d solved was the cherry on top, because the alerts about it had gone out to all campus members since the incidents were contained to the campus.

The dull lecture came with dull readings, which you idly flipped through later that night. It was nearing 1 am, but sleep had not yet found you, and even the reading was not putting you to sleep.

You must’ve dozed off on your tiny kitchen table, Moony curled up on the chair next to you, because her surprised meow and the sound of a door closing close by woke you up a few hours later. Your phone lit up with an email notification (professors were truly unhinged with their work hours) and you were able to see the time without lifting your head up from the table. 4 am.

The door that had closed and woken you and Moony up had been Midoriya’s, you realized even in your half-asleep state. Occasionally the sound would wake you up, but you never minded it much and usually rolled over and fell back asleep.

This time you had to drag yourself over to your bed, and you could vaguely hear Midoriya moving around next door. What business he had this early in the morning you never knew. He seemed pretty normal, and you always assumed he was fond of late library study sessions. Even if it was not exactly exam season. But then again, he was a biochem major, you mused.

You fell asleep wondering about this and woke up five hours later to the sound of your blaring alarm. It snapped you awake, enough to hear a thud from next door. Did Midoriya fall out of bed?

The day passed as usual. You went to class, took half-hearted notes (it was hard to focus at this point in the semester—everyone was already burnt out) came home and ate dinner with Moony, and cuddled up on the couch together to do your readings.

This time you were ready to pass out outside of the warm embrace of your bed, so you’d done your nightly routine and brought over blankets to the couch, ready for sleep to come whenever it was ready.

The sound that woke you up this time was much louder. And Moony hissed.

She never hissed.

You froze from your curled-up position on the couch, eyes still heavy with sleep and senses scrambling to catch up with your brain and racing heart. The coffee table was right across from you, and by some miracle, you’d been sipping on a lemonade earlier—one in a glass bottle.

As swiftly as you could, you untangled yourself from the blankets and grabbed the lemonade bottle, wielding it in front of you like a sword.

It slipped from your grasp when you saw who was standing in front of you, next to your open window you always kept closed, scared Moony would climb out.

As if on reflex, as if he expected you to drop your weapon, Spider-Man shot a web just as it slipped from your fingers, catching it in his hands before you could even register you had dropped it.

Moony, who had been very annoyed at being woken up just a minute ago, was now rubbing her head on his shins affectionately.

“Moony,” you whispered. “Get away from him.”

“It’s okay!” Spider-Man said, mirroring your whisper. “I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then why did you break into my apartment?” You looked around for your phone, or another potential weapon. Instead, your gaze found the small digital clock you kept on a shelf near the door, the bright green numbers clearing away the fogginess of sleep.

It was 4am.

You could not help the gasp that escaped you.

“Midoriya?”

The effect was instantaneous. Spider-Man’s entire body language changed, that much you could tell, even in the dark. He took a step away from you, back toward the window, shoulders tense.

“What?” he said. Trying hard to keep his voice steady, even deepening it a little. But you knew it was him.

“Did you think this was your apartment?” You were connecting the dots now. “This is why you always come back so late.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, inching towards the window. “I just got a little lost. Thought this place was empty.”

“You’re bleeding,” you said, pointing at the gash in his arm as though he had not noticed it himself. “Why’re you bleeding?”

Moony meowed, as though echoing your question. She was still close to him, and leaned forward to rub her head against his shin again.

This seemed to break him—his shoulders drooped and he let out a long exhale. He reached up and pulled the mask off, and you gasped again.

The left side of his face was covered in bruises, his eye starting to swell a bit. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, glancing down at Moony.

“Smart cat. She recognized me.” You winced and instinctively moved toward him when he tried to smile and grimaced at the action.

“Sit down, please,” you said, remembering to speak quietly. “You can’t die in my apartment. You can’t.”

“I won’t,” he said, letting you manhandle him into sitting on the couch. “Promise.”

“If you thought this was your apartment you’re definitely concussed,” you said, reaching up to move his curls aside, careful not to touch his face. The bruises covered his entire left side, also the side his arm was bleeding. “What happened to you?”

You snatched your hand away when he realized he was frozen, eyes to the side where your hand was.

“I got thrown into a wall,” he said, smiling again. A smaller grimace this time. “I’m really sorry.”

“You’re sorry for being thrown into a wall?” You shuffled to the kitchen to grab the tiny first aid kit you kept there. It was dusty and unused and consisted mainly of bandaids, something you started laughing at a little hysterically as you opened it on the couch, in between you and Midoriya. He’d leaned back onto the couch, breathing evened out. He was lying so still you thought he was sleeping, until he turned his head to see what you were laughing at.

“I only have bandaids,” you said, still laughing a little. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, I didn’t mean…” he started laughing. Quietly, then a little louder until you were both giggling and suppressing loud laughs.

“It’s okay,” he said, catching his breath again. “Can you help me get to my place? I’m used to patching myself up.”

It took five minutes, but eventually, you both managed to get out your front door, coaxing Moony to stay inside. Midoriya had one of his arms draped around your shoulder, keeping him upright. He had reassured you plenty of times as you both shuffled out the door that he was fine, he had been through worse. Which only made you feel worse.

His apartment was the exact same layout as yours, though a little messier, which he apologized for. There were notes all over his kitchen table, his couch was covered in blankets. You had a feeling he was prone to falling asleep all over his apartment like you did.

“Thank you,” he said once he had settled down on his couch. “I’m really sorry, again.”

“I know,” you said, sitting down beside him. You stared at the clock directly across from you, above his small TV. “I’m sorry for figuring out who you are.”

Another small laugh from him. “S’okay.” he shifted to look at you, and you mirrored him. It would have felt awkward being this close to someone you knew more in passing a day ago, but you felt as though this entire experience had automatically made the two of you friends. A trauma bond, of sorts. “You won’t tell anyone?”

You smiled back at him. “Promise.”

You didn’t remember getting back to your apartment, only that it took a lot of convincing on Midoriya’s part. The second you woke up (on your couch) you rushed to get out the door and knock on Midoriya’s until he opened, if anything to confirm you had not dreamed anything that had happened. But before you could get your slippers on, you saw a small note on the floor in front of the door.

Two spiders drawn holding hands, with “friends?” written underneath.

You slid it back under his door with your own addition — a drawing of a cat and “friends” written underneath his question.

——— * * * ———

“Trauma bond?”

“Yeah,” you said, shoving at his shoulder and ignoring his fake wince. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” he agreed, petting a meowing Moony in his lap. He was frowning down at her, and you had been around him long enough to know something was wrong.

It had been over a month since the break-in incident (which Midoriya was still apologizing for) and you had grown used to each other’s company. It had started off small—seeing him in the library during the day, studying quietly next to him. Stifling your laughter when he slid a spider doodle across the table to you.

After that, you noticed him around campus more often. You had always greeted him when he crossed your path, stopping to make small talk. But now you actually talked about things of substance. Setting up study sessions, inviting him over to play with Moony, exchanging recipes and even starting to cook at each other’s apartments.

“Is my pasta not good?” you said. Moony meowed, echoing your question from his lap.

“It could use some pepper,” he said, smiling teasingly at you. “No, it’s good. Just a rough night.”

“Wanna talk about it?” you said.

“S’okay,” he said. “We’re trauma bonded enough.” You felt a pang of guilt at the sadness in his tone.

“Midoriya—”

“Thank you for the pasta,” he said. “I can help with the dishes.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “You know we’re friends friends, right?”

He nodded. “I’m messing with you.”

“You little shit!” he laughed as you set your dishes down in the sink, shoving him slightly. He smiled slyly at you. He seemed like the perfect boy next door, but he was really a little shit. And he was the perfect boy next door.

“I haven’t heard you come back late in a while,” you said. He turned to look at you from his place at the sink, eyebrows raised.

“You wait up for me?”

“No!” you said indiginantly. “It just used to wake us up.”

“Really? I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” you said. “But you have to wake me up if you’re hurt really bad, okay? Even if it’s just to sit with you.”

A small noise of acknowledgement from Midoriya.

“What was that?”

“Promise.”

Satisfied, you got up from your place at the table, letting him finish up the dishes. “Are you going out tonight?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry in advance about the early morning wake up call.”

He still would not tell you where he went. But the news reports the next day served as the answers to your questions. A crime solved here, a criminal turned in there. The Spider-Man news page, ran by dedicated fans, was bookmarked on your computer and one of your most visited tabs. On nights when you couldn’t sleep and didn’t know where he was, you would refresh it every few minutes, waiting for an update.

Sometimes he would go during the day, and when you would get back from class he would be there on your couch with Moony, napping. You would sit on the opposite end and wait for him to wake up, then decide on what to make for lunch together. Not talking about the new bruise on his arm or the new cut on his leg. If he brought it up you knew it was okay to talk about it, but usually you both talked about normal topics. Avoiding the giant spider in the room.

“All done!” he said, falling down on the couch beside you. Reaching to pet Moony, who was cuddled up on your lap. Arm muscles flexing, hands softly running through Moony’s fur. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore how jacked he was. Especially when he was literally always stripping in your apartment, changing from his suit into his regular clothes. Letting you sneak glances at his back, his chest.

“Take a nap,” you blurted. “If you’re going to be out tonight. You need to rest.”

“I will,” he said, smiling up at you. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not!” you said, huffing. “You better not visit me tonight. I expect you to kick ass and come back with no injuries.”

“‘Kay,” he said. “See you tomorrow?” You nodded and watched him dramatically sigh, throwing his head back on the couch before getting up and shuffling to the door.

The rest of your evening was spent anxiously trying to distract yourself. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your head, in the pit of your stomach. After finishing your homework and realizing it was hours before your usual bedtime, you cleaned your apartment. Reorganized, moved things around.

You decided to settle on the couch for the night. Better place to hear Midoriya come back.

The sound that jolted you awake a couple hours later was louder than usual, and it woke you up quicker. A quick glance at your clock let you know it was only 1am.

“Midoriya?” you said quietly, sitting up. “You okay?”

He was standing near your window, at almost the exact same spot as a month before, when he had first broken in.

“No,” he said. Voice hoarse and almost too quiet for you to hear.

You were up and leading him over to the couch in an instant. His mask was already off, clutched in between his fingers

“Are you hurt?” you said, patting down his arms and running your fingers over his face softly, scared to touch a bruise or aggravate a cut. A shake of his head.

You gently took the mask from him, setting it down on the coffee table with one hand, the other gripping his hands tightly. “Want to talk about it?”

He nodded, squeezing your hands back. “Later.”

“Okay,” you said, scooting closer to him on the couch so your shoulders pressed together. “I’m here, okay? It’s okay.”

You were ready when his shoulders started shaking and he slid into your hug, staining your shirt with his tears. You ran your hands through his hair, rubbing your fingers along the nape of his neck. Repeating the phrase over and over until it felt like you were trying to convince yourself of the same thing.

The bruises were on his side this time—no cuts deep enough to warrant him going back to his apartment to patch himself up. You helped him get his suit off slowly. The tears hadn’t stopped, and yours had started fifteen minutes after his. It hurt to see him like this and not know how to help. Knowing all you could do was help him get back to his apartment and keep his secret.

“Can I stay?” he said. He was holding the top half of his suit to his chest, hugging it.

“Yeah, course you can,” you said. “I’ll get you some clothes.”

Moony walked out of your room with an annoyed meow. She had been sleeping, but once she spotted Midoriya she happily sauntered over, already purring.

Once he had changed into the clothes his eyes started to droop, and you started convincing him to sleep in your room. He kept shaking his head, until he finally told you, “Don’t want to be alone.”

“Okay, I’ll stay with you,” you said. Slipped out so easily you had no time to realize you had said it until he nodded and you were walking into your room and settling under the covers, Midoriya turning to face you, lashes wet with tears.

“I’m not leaving,” you said, reaching to intertwine your fingers with his. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

He blinked slowly at you, sleep making his eyes heavy. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

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