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fangirl-dot-com · 1 month

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Chapter 31 - Rookie of the Year

Last regular chapter! We have the Drive to Survive episode and then the prologue left! I'm not going to say many words because my farewell to this story will come after DTS drops which will be tomorrow night around 8:30 pm CT

The end of To Do is To Dare is scheduled for this Saturday, 11:30 am CT.

I love you all!

“Kid, are those shorts?”

You looked up the phone in your hand up to Max, who was sitting in front of you in the limo. Your eyes flitted back down to your lap, where your dress had ridden up to reveal the basketball shorts that were supposed to be hidden.

You shot him a sheepish grin.

“Quite possibly.”

Max rolled his eyes. “And why are you wearing shorts underneath a 7 thousand dollar dress?”

“If Zendaya can do it, so can I. And besides, I’m taking them off when we get close. I just didn’t want to cross my legs in the car.”

A snort came from Arthur, who sat to your right. To his opposite sat Charles. The four of you were all decked out in clothing that could definitely pay for a high end sports car. The Armani suits were tailored to the two Monegasques. Max’s suit and your dress were from the newest Dior line, thanks to your own ambassadorship with the luxury brand. The heels on your feet costs thousands as well. You didn’t even want to think about how much the jewelry that adorned your wrists, neck, and ears cost.

Arthur leaned over, hand on your thigh. “Well you might want to take them off because we’re about 5 minutes away.”

A pout grew on your lips, but you appropriately slid the basketball shorts off your smooth legs. You definitely didn’t miss the ogling eyes of your boyfriend. You gave him an innocent smile, which made him glare at you.

“You think I’ll get rookie of the year?”

The question made the men groan.

You gawked at them. “What? I don’t know if they’ll do it since I was the only rookie. That’s like giving a first place trophy to the only alone person in a competition. Useless.”

Charles gave you a smile. “What previous awards have you won or records you have broken?”

Your eyes flickered to the ceiling in thought.

“Ok, so I was the youngest European Karting Division Champion in 2010, the youngest Italian Karting Division Champion in 2012, youngest F4 race winner and champion in 2018, youngest F3 race winner and champion in 2019, youngest F2 race winner in 2020. That year I was also Rookie of the Year and got the Jules Bianchi award. And then I was the youngest F2 champion in 2023. This year I was the youngest pole sitter in F1, I had the most points for a rookie year with 333 points, and then the most podiums for a rookie with 15 podium finishes. I equaled Lewis’s record of four wins in a rookie season. And I think that’s it…Why are you three staring at me like that?”

A blush formed on your face as the three men just stared. Max shook his head in disbelief.

“You’re more decorated than I am.”

A roll of your eyes had him arguing. With the jerk of the car, the two of you silenced. Through the heavily tinted windows, you could see the flashes of cameras. You inhaled sharply which caught Arthur’s attention.

“I’ll hold your hand the entire time ok?”

A nod of your head let him know that you’d be fine with that. The moment the door opened, the noise was deafening. People were screaming your name, along with Max, Charles, and Arthur. You flashed the best smile you could as you walked to the building. But a certain car caught your eyes. The familiar navy was beaconing you to go over. You let your hand slip from Arthur as you got closer to your season car.

“Hey buddy,” you whispered as you ran your hand along the carbon fiber body. You could still hear the flashes of the cameras but it didn’t matter to you anymore. You were back with your car that carried you so well during the races.

You leaned closer as if to tell a secret. “I’m still going to buy you so you can come rest with my other cars back home. I’m going to miss you Forum.”

The name was a simple call back to the Formula cars. But, in your mind, you couldn’t just call him Formula, because that would be weird. Max only smiled when you told him the name earlier in the season.

Apparently, the Red Bull cars were men.

You smiled over your shoulder at Arthur who had waited for you. Internally, you were trying to waste time so you didn’t have to sit through long boring speeches. But, the look of mild panic of being late in Arthur’s eyes got you to start moving.

Once inside, you welcomed the air conditioning. Arthur’s fingers found the open slot of your dress on your side. The comfort of the skin to skin contact was very appreciated.

Thankfully, they had decided to put the top three at the same table. Since you and Max were on the same team, and Charles got along with the two of you quite well, they didn’t see a problem with you all sitting together. It definitely made the night less boring.

When Max got up to say his acceptance speech, some tears rolled down your face. It was especially when he got to talking about you.

The Dutchman smiled down at the table, or well, at you.

“I don’t normally do this, but I also have to thank my teammate, Y/n.

“When I heard that she was going to replace Sergio at the beginning of 2024, I was a bit hesitant. I am used to being in a comfortable spot in life, but the world decided to throw a 20-year-old at me and said ‘here you go, have fun’.”

The crowd chuckled at his words, but you tried to laugh through the tears. Max continued.

“The first few races were great. I had to go find her after she borrowed a car, we played football on the Miami beach, and I got to really connect with drivers that I didn’t know I could be close to.”

You saw a bigger smile grow on Charles’s face. You personally knew that the Ferrari driver was more than thankful for Max’s close friendship. It made the season go so much better than in 2022.

“It was in Suzuka that I noticed that my teammate had become part of my family when I was so…scared to lose her. I know I wasn’t the only one that said I wouldn’t have continued to race if she had…”

Max didn’t finish the sentence as he wiped his eyes. Arthur’s hand gripped yours a bit tightly at the reference to your DNF at Suzuka.

The Champion inhaled before he spoke again.

“But what matters is that she was able to finish the season with me in third place. We were able to take home the constructor’s championship with her fastest lap.

“Y/n has meant so much more to me than a regular teammate. And I am thankful that we get to have more years of competitiveness together. I am 100 percent confident when I say that she will be a World Champion.

“Thank you.”

Max walked off stage as the crowds roared at the completion of his speech. You were up next, so you stood from the table and walked over to meet him. He brought you into a big hug and didn’t let go for a bit. You felt him kiss the top of your head before he let you go.

You shakily inhaled as you stood on the edge of the stage.

“And now, please welcome the Rookie of the Year and third place winner of the Driver’s Championship, Y/n L/n!”

Once you heard the clapping, you made your way to the middle of the stage. The man handed you two trophies that were a lot heavier than you thought. You awkwardly grinned as you stood still for pictures.

One the man gave you the signal to start, you bent down slightly to put the trophies down. When you rose back up, you took a deep breath. You gave the crowd a smile before you started to speak.

“First off, I’d like to thank everyone here today. It would be weird to be speaking to an empty room, so the audience is appreciated.”

Laughter came from the crowd, which let you know that you were doing great.

“Next, I’d like to thank my personal team. I wouldn’t be here without my physio, even if I continued to beg her to eat ice cream all the time. To my trainer, I don’t think I’d be able to even turn my steering wheel without him. And then to Vito, my manager. When I say that he is truly the only person who has stayed by myself through the years, it’s him. He didn’t have to stay, but he did. I’d be lost without him and probably driving an uber around cities to make money.”

Your voice gave a little crack at the end, but a chuckle covered it up. You saw Vito smile at you and hold his thumb up.

“Then there’s my found family. I’d like to thank the Leclercs for truly putting time and effort into my career. I can’t count the amount of times on my hand that Pascale sent me some extra food whenever she visited Arthur. I know she’s not here tonight, but she deserves all of my thanks. She truly treated me like her own, even if I wasn’t. She’s been the mother that I never got to have growing up.”

“To Charlie, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to race and compete against my childhood hero. But here we are, with you looking at my backside throughout the season.”

You heard a “hey!” from Charles that made the crowd laugh even louder.

“But, we both know you came out on top despite some difficulties. Thank you for being so kind to me. And thank you for signing all three pairs of my Lightning McQueen Crocs.”

Charles blew you a kiss which you pretended to catch.

“Last and not least of my Leclerc entourage, Arthur. I cannot begin anywhere to ever tell you how thankful I was to be your teammate in Formula 2. You saw a frightened and anxiety-ridden girl, who thought that the 2023 season would be the end of her driving career. But, you took me to dinner after our first meeting, and in the process might have taken my heart as well. I’m glad that it only took me crashing my car in Japan for you to finally confess.”

Once again, you choked a bit. But, you’re pretty sure that everyone in the room did as well. You sniffed as you wiped your eyes.

“But I wouldn’t have it anyway.”

At the table, there wasn’t a dry eye at all. Arthur was wiping at his eyes harshly in frustration. The tears would not stop falling. Even Max was crying and you hadn’t even said anything in his direction. The Dutchman knew that he would be a gonner the moment you said his name.

“To the Red Bull team. Like I’ve said all night, there aren’t any words that could sum up my gratitude. I remember hearing the news that Max was signed at 17 and I only thought, gosh they had balls.”

More laughter from the crowd.

“Charles might be driving for Ferrari, but I have always wanted to drive for the energy drink team. Their famous saying, Red Bull gives you wings, has been entirely true for this season. You took a chance on me and gave me my wings to fly and soar. Thank you Christian for treating me like the dad I never had. I’m excited to be driving for you for many years.”

You changed your card and looked down at the wobbly words due to tears. You looked up, and at that moment, you realized that your eye makeup must have been running. Oh well, who cares.

“And finally, but maybe the most important person of all in this room, other than me of course.”

Soft laughs could be heard despite the sobering moment to come. Everyone had been waiting to see what you would say about Max.

“If there was an award for best teammate, I would give Max the trophy over and over again. I was so nervous to meet him. I didn’t want to be disrespectful, because you don’t just become a three-time world champion’s teammate without doing something right in life. But that happened to me. Almost immediately, I could tell that Max would be a good one.

“The night we met, he took me out to get ice cream and showed me pictures of his cats for hours. At Christmas, he knew that I didn’t have any family to spend it with and all but dragged me back to his home in Monaco. He made sure I knew that I was welcomed and loved.

“Because that is what I admire about Max. Not his career, not his driving, and definitely not his cooking skills. I admire him for his ability to be kind and to love easy. I never had the best childhood, and Max knew nothing about it, but he treated me with such preciosity. He made me feel wanted for maybe the second time in my life.

“My childhood was filled with moments of unwantedness. I was a female going against the best boys and men in the motorsport leagues. I was treated unfairly sometimes, but I was never treated like that with Max.

“So, Maximillian, I can’t thank you enough for making a little girl’s dream come true. I might have won all of these awards tonight, but I only feel like a winner because I am walking away with a group that no family could beat.

“So thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

The amount of applause could not be contained in the room. Even the security guards outside the door could hear the cheers and claps coming from the different personnel in the room. It wasn’t long before everyone was standing for you as you walked down.

However, Max seemed to stand the straightest in pride for you. If it wasn’t for the tear stains on his cheeks, you wouldn’t even know that he had been crying. There was a genuine smile on his face. His arms opened for a hug when you got to the table. You put yourself there as he wrapped his arms around you. Your head rested gently on his shoulder. You felt his lips touch your forehead.

Once the hug was over, you felt another person wrap their hands around. You knew who is was once his lips touched your own. You melted a bit before Arthur leaned back.

“I am so proud of you.”

“Thank you mon bebe.”

A groan left his lips.

“You know what it does when you speak my language.”

A smirk grew on your lips. “Oh I know.”

Arthur only rolled his eyes.

“My rookie of the year.”

Max’s hands landed on your shoulder and Arthur’s. To be honest, you forgot that the rest of the word even existed. Oops.

“Not rookie anymore. Time for the sophomore year!” Max’s voice sounded above the crowd.

You looked up at the Dutchman.

“I’m going to win the championship this year.”

“No you aren’t.”

“You are both wrong. I will be the world champion.”

“Sure Charles, sure.”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 wow, I didn't expect to be walking home with three trophies tonight 😚 all jokes aside, thank you to the FIA for naming me Rookie of the Year (even if I was the only one) and then for granting me the first ever Woman of the Year in Motorsports. I'm hoping that in the next few years, others will be able to be bestowed this award like I have been. Thank you everyone! See you in a few months for testing 💙 - rookie out

liked by arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, y/n.nation, and 6,204,957 others

y/n.nation if you look in the back of the fourth picture, you can see me drowning on my tears

arthur_leclerc I am totally fine being the trophy husband

y/n.89 awwww I'm glad that I can have you as the trophy husband

y/nxarthur HUSBAND?

maxverstappen1 HUSBAND??

charles_leclerc HUSBAND?????

y/n.89 I said what I said - haters gonna hate 🤭

box_box_express I cannot WAIT for preseason testing, why do I miss this already?

y/n&co I'm just waiting for the DTS episode, it's going to be so good

y/n4ever her speech tonight, I'm kind of worried for the episode...

lestappenlove oh gosh, Charles and Max looked like such proud older brothers (I don't think I've ever seen either of them cry before)

maxverstappen1 couldn't have done anything without you kid! even if you continue to call me Maximilian in front of thousands and thousands of people

y/n.89 I don't care - you'll always be my maximillian 😆

sophomore_y/n the trophies are so pretty 🥹

formula1_edits I can see all the videos and edits on tik tok forming now - maybe something Harry Styles 🤔

author everything is going to be all right - just like it always is

y/n.89 thank you for making this happen!

author anything for you kid...anything

charles_leclerc CAN I BE WORLD CHAMPION PLEASE?????

formulala_delulu WHY IS IT ENDING??? 😭

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dilemmaontwolegs · 8 months

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I saw your requests were closed But I really couldn't help sharing one. I hope you do like the idea :)

So what about a Charles × Wolff/Hamilton reader where she is working in Health care but has a new boss recently and he passes inappropriate comments/threats etc about her and acts out of line, which keeps on escalating (As dramatic and much as you want it to) and she doesn't tell him or anyone and starts behaving irratically and is scared, but one day it was too much or he finds out about it on accident and is angry at first at her for not sharing and then is all protective and possessive and does something about it.

One shot/ Series. Honey anything to read any version of this would be just 🤌🏻

Thank you ❤️🥹

Your Safe Place || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!Wolff!reader Warnings: 18+ only, injuries, bullying, panic attack WC: 3.3k F1 Masterlist

Translations: ma (petite) louve - my (little) wolf || chérie - sweetheart || putain - fuck || je t’aime (aussi) - I love you (too) || Quel salopard - what an asshole

The second you closed the front door you could finally breathe again. Taking a moment to just settle after the day you had endured, you pressed your back to the door and closed your eyes. It was like you told your younger patients when they were feeling stressed: smell the flower, blow out the candle. Inhale through your nose, exhale out your mouth.

Peace calmed your mind as you smelt the dinner Charles had made, your plate kept warm in the oven like he did whenever your shift ran overtime. That was an almost daily occurrence, especially with the new boss. You took another breath to clear your mind before it could return to the man who was single handedly making you regret your entire career choice.

"Hey-oh," Charles caught himself before he could hug you, spotting the blood on your scrubs. "You, uh, have a little something-" You looked down where he gestured, his nose wrinkling at the sight.

"It's fine," you said as you dropped your bag to the floor and pulled the shirt off. "It's mine, not a patient."

He nodded with relief as he took it from you to put in the washing machine but then it dropped as he realised what you had said and took a closer look at you. "Ma louve, what happened?" his fingers were gentle as they guided your face up to the light and he saw the bruising around your nose. "Putain, you're hurt."

"It was an accident," you said softly as you took his hands from your face and stepped into his embrace. "Cassia just had an episode, you know how it is, she didn't know what she was doing."

He wasn't appeased by the answer as he led you to the kitchen where he sat you down before checking your dinner was still warm enough to eat. "Where was security?"

You were grateful his back was to you as he reheated the pasta, something he hated having to do since it was never as good as when it was fresh. You had grimaced, wondering the very same thing at the time. They should have been close in the ward but with the new boss, expenditure was more important than safety and the budget had been cut in half the moment he started.

"They got there as fast as they could." It wasn't a lie. They had run all the way from the maternity ward on the floor above but you had already reset your broken nose by the time they arrived. She had quickly calmed after a dose of haloperidol and been apologetic when she realised her actions while delirious. “I’m fine, Char.”

Diana sighed as she bandaged your wrist, a look of pity in her eyes as she shook her head. “Why do you stay? It’s not like you need the money, hun.”

You tested the range of movement and winced at the sharp pain, just another incident to add to the growing list. “What good does quitting do? You guys would just be another nurse down and it would put more pressure on an already crumbling system.”

The older nurse patted your hand before standing up and putting the left over roll of gauze away. “You’re too kind, but sometimes you have to put yourself first.”

You should have taken the rest of the day off but there were rounds to finish and call bells ringing left, right and centre. It was only when you couldn’t ignore your rumbling stomach any longer that you really took a proper look at your watch and saw your shift had finished over an hour ago.

“Katrina called in sick, I need you to stay on,” Tommy said without a simple hello when he caught you alone in the staff room.

“I can’t,” you replied as you grabbed your bag with your good hand, “it’s my dad’s birthday - we’re going out to dinner.”

“I don’t give a shit if you’re having dinner with the Crown Prince himself, we need you here.”

“Albert may actually be there,” you mused as you started to leave, but an arm blocked the doorway.

“Your yearly review is due next week, and I would hate to have to make a note of insolence, poor attitude and lack of empathy for others. We are short on staff and it’s not like you have children at home.”

That had been the only reason you took some extra shifts when you could manage it, because there were nurses like Katrina who had two young ones and they often fell ill with colds and flus from their daycare. It meant you had to become the automatic fall guy when any other member of staff couldn’t make it - but that was what the on-call nurses were for, except…

“Maybe we wouldn’t be short staffed if you didn’t get rid of the on-call contractors, or if you hired more nurses like we were promised two years ago,” you snapped without thinking, your hunger and exhaustion removing the filter that stopped you from having the temper your father did. Or, passion, as he liked to call it - a Wolff trait.

“So this is my fault?” he scoffed. “Nurses cost money. You might not know this, but money doesn’t grow on trees.”

You rolled your eyes at the reminder that you grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth, but that didn’t mean you were the spoiled daughter everyone who didn’t know you thought you were. You had studied hard and put in the effort to become a nurse because you wanted to help people. Tommy only cared about the profit.

“Healthcare shouldn’t be about money,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes. “It should be about helping the people who need it.”

“Then ask daddy dearest to make a donation, sweetcheeks,” he mocked as he pinched your cheek like a child. “That’s the only way you’ll get your precious nurses.”

You slapped his hand away from your face and ducked out the door before he could stop you but his voice echoed along the cold sterile corridor, “I hope you like night shifts, you’re going to be on them for a very long time.”

“You wouldn't,” you turned with a gasp. Charles' timetable was erratic but unless he was out of the country for a race he would always make the effort to be home by the time your shift ended.

“I would.” He chuckled and left in the opposite direction, pointing back to the staff room as he went. “You can leave at the midnight swap.”

Sighing with defeat and tears stinging your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the bag and sent an apologetic text to your father for missing his dinner party.

By the time midnight arrived your feet were aching and you had nearly emptied the vending machine of snacks to stave off your hunger. It wasn’t far from the hospital to the apartment you shared with Charles but it felt like a million miles when you stepped out into the cold night.

You pulled your jacket tighter around your body and shivered as you started off, your head down and hood up. You were so focused on just putting one foot in front of the other you didn’t see the shadow join you until a hand grabbed you and you screamed with terror as you were pulled into their chest.

“Ma louve, it’s me,” Charles soothed as he pulled your hoodie back and saw the tears in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I, I,” you stammered as you tried to unscramble the thoughts in your head.

“Shh, I’m sorry, I called out to you like three times. I shouldn’t have grabbed you, that was stupid,” he chided himself.

“No, no, I’m sorry, I was in a world of my own.” You finally took notice of your surroundings and saw the car park was almost empty and none of the cars were his Pista. “What are you doing here? Did you walk?”

“I didn’t want you walking alone at this hour,” he said with a kiss on your forehead. “You’re shaking, ma chérie.”

“It was a long day,” you murmured as you yawned, resting your head on his shoulder as he gently rocked you. “I think I have more coffee in my system than blood right now.”

“You can’t keep this up, my love, you are going to burn out.”

You pulled out of his embrace and started down the footpath so he didn’t see the tears begin to escape. “I’m fine, Char. I can handle it.”

It was Charles' home race and you had promised him you would join him in Ferrari this year. It was one of the few races you could always attend, managing your shifts around it so you never missed it, and all week you had seen the city setting up for the pride and joy of Monaco.

Dawn was breaking on the big day and it looked like it was going to be a stunner as the sky turned blue and you left the hospital after yet another night shift. Tommy had found a way to make your life miserable and your shifts were constantly changing just to upset your mentality and circadian rhythm. You could barely tell morning from night when it always looked the same blue hues, same cool temperatures, the only indication was which side of the city was glowing, east or west.

“Good morning, baby,” you greeted as you wrapped your arms around Charles and kissed his shoulder as you found him at the bench making breakfast, already wearing his bright red Ferrari uniform. “How did you sleep?”

“Not bad. Would have been better with you,” he said as he turned to face you, his head dipping down to indulge in a kiss. You giggled as you saw a few crumbs of toast caught in the short hairs of his beard and brushed them away. “Thank you.”

“Now you can kiss me.”

The doorbell rang and he reluctantly released you from his arms to go answer it, his finger pointing to the second plate you hadn’t noticed. “Eat, amour.”

You hummed happily as you grabbed the toast and took a bite, casting a wave to Andrea as he walked in with Charles.

“You look half dead, Wolff,” his trainer said with a worried look.

“She just got in from a shift, and will be going to bed as soon as she has eaten, right?” Charles said pointedly while you rolled your eyes.

“Does he boss you around this much?” you asked Andrea, making him chuckle as he shook his head.

“No, but he doesn’t love me the same way.”

“Who said I love you at all?”

“You do, every time you get a podium,” Andrea pointed out seriously.

You nearly choked on the mouthful as you tried not to laugh at the truth. Charles was very affectionate when he was celebrating, and you hoped he would have an entire night of it after today's race. Unfortunately you wouldn’t be able to share it with him since you were due back at the hospital at 7pm for another 12 hour night shift. You had tried to find someone to swap with but Tommy had made it clear there would be consequences - all because you questioned his qualifications.

You hadn’t been able to quiet any more, not when you had the imprint of a patient's dental records on your forearm from when they bit you. You started dreading going to work, somewhere that should have been a safe place, a refuge for those needing help had become the opposite for you. It was bordering on dangerous and you had to say something.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have said it in the morning meeting in front of dozens of staff, but you had serious doubts about his ‘people skills’ and wanted to know where he got his management degree from. Suggesting it was from Hogwarts, because it must be a thing of fantasy, may have been a step too far.

You were now paying for those words.

You still stood by them.

You still hadn’t told Charles.

He would only worry, or suggest taking a sabbatical. Yes, you longed to travel with him to his races and show your support, but you didn’t feel there was any way to contribute to society with that life. Nursing gave you a sense of purpose and fulfilment that you were certain you couldn’t feel just being the driver’s girlfriend, or the principal’s daughter.

“Hey,” Charles roused you softly and you realised you were starting to fall asleep while eating. “Let’s get you to bed, ma petite louve.”

You were already closing your eyes before your head hit the pillow but you felt his lips warm your forehead. “I love you. I’ll see you in the garage,” you mumbled as sleep took over.

“Je t’aime aussi.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you swore as you scrambled out of the bed and pulled on the first outfit you could find, a pair of comfortable jeans and a Ferrari shirt with Leclerc across the back with the number 16. There were dozens of missed calls and even more text messages but do not disturb had automatically turned on and you had forgotten to stop the setting. Today of all days you wanted to be disturbed.

Out on the street you could already hear the high keening of the cars racing around the city and you dashed through the thick crowds to get to the paddock. You hadn’t even remembered to grab your pass as you left in a rush but for once you were thankful someone recognised you and let you through.

“Arthur, how is he doing?” you panted as you reached the Ferrari garage and grabbed the headset he held out.

“Not the best start, he was a little distracted I think. You should probably let him know you are here.”

You agreed and went to the desk at the back rather than the main set up on the pit wall, quietly asking them to connect your headset to Charles. They were hesitant but there was no need for a pit stop any time soon since he had fresh tires so they made the adjustments to the channels.

“Hey baby, sorry I’m late.”

“You had me worried, little wolf.”

“That sounds so strange to hear in English,” you giggled, knowing the rules of the comms meant he couldn’t speak French on them. “I just wanted to let you know I made it so you can stop worrying.”

“I’ll always worry about you,” he said and you didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling. “I’ll see you soon.”

The final 12 laps went almost as quickly as your nails, the nervous habit ruining them under the stress of the tight street circuit and close calls. Every time his car went flying through the sharp corners around the pool you were sure you were going to see him crash and your heart could barely take it. You ripped the headset off and rushed out of the garage as a wave of nausea crashed over you.

“Are you alright?” Arthur asked when he caught up to you in Charles’ driver room, a bottle from his fridge pressed to your clammy forehead. Your hands could barely keep it steady as the shook uncontrollably and you ended up letting it fall to the floor with a thud as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t answer him as you struggled to pull air into your lungs, the screams of the crowd outside doing little to calm the panic gripping you. Dropping your head between your knees, you tried to keep from fainting but you could feel your heartbeat in your head, the throb sounding in time to the darkening pulse invading your vision until it all faded to black.

“You’re not listening, mate, she cannot come to work. She fucking passed out from exhaustion.”

“Then she should have been sleeping and not wasting her time watching some cars go around in circles. If she doesn't show up tonight, tell her not to bother showing up ever again.”

“She won’t,” Charles ended the call and slammed your phone down. “Quel salopard!”

The anger on Charles' face softened when he saw your eyes opening and he rushed across the room, his race suit still tied around his waist. “Don’t move, just lay down, ma louve. You need to rest,” he whispered as he knelt on the floor beside the couch you were lying on, his fingers brushing your cheek bone. “Arthur’s gone to get Toto.”

You couldn’t tell if minutes or days had passed and trying to think felt like trekking through a swamp of sludge in your mind. “The race?”

“4th.” He pressed his palm to your head and ran it over your hair feeling the damp heat on his skin. “You’ve sweat almost as much as me, mamour. You should have stayed home if you weren’t feeling well.”

You shook your head and it cleared some of the haze that hindered your cognitive ability. “I’m not sick, I just had…a moment. But I’m fine now.”

“A moment?” he asked with a frown. “What type of moment? And don’t tell me you are fine, you are clearly not and you haven’t been fine for months. Talk to me, please.”

The pleading, the puppy eyes, the way he dropped his head to your shoulder like he was defeated, it crested into a tsunami of emotion that broke the wall you had built between your personal life and your work life. The two worlds crashed together and the sob broke his heart as you crumbled apart in front of him.

The wave of truth crashed upon him and everything you had tried to keep from him for the past six months was lifted from your conscience as you confessed it all. You told him about the stress you were under, the bullying you had faced and the danger you were in each night with nearly no support or security.

You had been in a long sleeve when you went to bed but now you were in his shirt and he could see the latest wound marring your flesh, the impression of teeth setting to bruises.

Horror painted his features as he absorbed it all, then it turned to anger, hot rage as his clenched fists turned his knuckles white. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked with quiet restraint. “Pourquoi?”

You swallowed and shrank back into the couch as you felt that anger aimed at you. The shaking started again, a fine tremor coursing through your body until it reached your teeth and they chattered as a cold sweat broke out.

“Fuck, no, bébé, please,” Charles cursed as he unclenched his fists and reached for you only to freeze as you flinched. “Please, I would never hurt you. I’m not angry at you.”

“Yes, you are,” you whispered.

“Okay, I’m a little bit angry you didn’t tell me sooner. We are meant to share everything, no?” You nodded meekly. “But I would never hurt you, ma louve. I’m angry at myself, I should have noticed, I should have, I don’t know…I failed you.”

“I was scared. You would make me quit if you knew.”

His head lifted and confusion swum in those green eyes of his. “Why would you want to work for that asshole?”

“I like my job, I like what I do, Charles.” You looked away from the intensity of his stare. “I don’t know who I am without it.”

“Oh, chérie, you would still be the same selfless, kind, beautiful woman you are right now. That is who you are, and that will never change.” When he reached for you this time you let him take your hands and he kissed your knuckles before holding them to his chest. “I think it’s time to prove it to you.”

You sighed and gave him a small nod. “I think you might be right.”

The sound of relief he made brought a smile to your face and he returned it with a guilty one. “That’s a relief,” he admitted with a nervous chuckle, “because I think I got you fired.”

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #wolff!reader

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rel312 · 9 months

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God that scene in the last episode was just…

The way Charlie physically closes himself off and Nick sits at his level and gently pulls him back open again

The way Nick literally holds Charlie’s hand through the conversation

The way Charlie allows himself to trust Nick

The way Nick looks so heartbroken that anybody made Charlie feel bad about himself

The way Charlie makes the decision to tell Nick about his SH

The way Nick realizes there’s even more going on than just Charlie’s ED and braces himself to hear it

The way Charlie allows himself to admit his feelings and acknowledge that he doesn’t deserve to feel like that anymore

The way Nick can’t help but hug him

The way Charlie grabs him back and buries his face in Nick’s neck

The way Nick is trying not to cry/be strong for Charlie

The way Nick’s head falls in relief when Charlie said he doesn’t hurt himself anymore

The way Nick won’t allow Charlie to be sorry for this

The way Nick doesn’t put him down or tell him not to do it again, but instead makes Charlie promise to tell him if it gets that bad again

The way Charlie still thinks he’s a burden

The way Nick looks so sad that Charlie would think that of himself

The way Nick gently reassures him that he could never see Charlie as broken or a burden

The way Nick is showing how strong he thinks Charlie is

The way Nick wants to be Charlie’s rock because that’s what Charlie is to him

The way Nick is struggling not to cry

The way Charlie finally accepts that Nick really just wants to help him

The way Nick cradles Charlie’s face

The way it looks like he’s going in for a kiss but is actually going to the forehead for the most tender kiss

The way he immediately goes to rest their foreheads together, just exuding ultimate comfort

The way he goes in for a sweet kiss

The way he’s almost ready to say “I love you” but is interrupted

The way he knows it’s not the right moment

The way Charlie knows anyway

The way Charlie looks like he can’t believe any of this is happening to him, that it’s real, that someone loves him

The long, slow, sweet kiss goodbye

The way neither of them want to leave each other

The way Charlie lingers in the driveway

The way Nick takes a deep breath and lets himself really feel everything once Charlie’s gone

The way Charlie is ready to say “I love you” back

Joe and Kit acted their asses off for this and I’m so so proud of them

#I did not mean for this to be a play by play analysis #it got away from me #heartstopper #heartstopper spoilers #heartstopper netflix #heartstopper netflix spoilers #heartstopper s2 #heartstopper season 2 #heartstopper series #heartstopper nick #heartstopper charlie #nick nelson #charlie spring #nick and charlie #nick x charlie #joe locke #kit connor

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alastor-simp · 2 months

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Hugging Them Out of Nowhere - Lucifer Morningstar, Cherri Bomb, Vox and Valentino

Here is the second part of the hugging headcanon with the other hazbin characters. I am going to try to make Valentino be a bit more approachable in this story since I know he is on this fandoms hit list.Will contain spoilers from some episodes. Enjoy!

Lucifer Morningstar🐥

🐥"OH! Ummm.....something wrong? Did you want to play with one of my rubber ducks?” Lucifer would have no idea what is going on. He will be stood like a statue, while holding one of his signature ducks. Despite being the king of hell, this man is an awkward softie.

🐥Lucifer was officially staying at the hotel now after its renovation after the fight with Adam. It was nice that he was finally making an effort with Charlie’s dreams and acting like a father.

🐥However, this poor man suffered from depression, due to being stressed being the king of hell and also thinking about his wife leaving. Man couldn’t catch a break.

🐥His bedroom is where he would stay when he was like that, crafting another duck figurine at his desk. He hadn’t noticed you coming into his room to see how he was. The minute he felt arms wrap around him is when he realized your presence.

🐥 “Ummmmmmmm….hi there?” Lucifer just remained in the position he was in, staring at you, trying to figure out what was happening. Soon, you had let him go, wearing an apologetic smile.

🐥 “I’m sorry, your highness.” Lucifer jumped when he heard that and waved his hands. “OH! Just call me Lucifer or Luci! Don’t need to be formal with me!” You smiled at him and nodded your head. The both of you stared at each other for a bit before he broke the silence and asked why the sudden hug.

🐥Feeling shy, you rubbed the back of your neck, “Well, I noticed you seemed more melancholic than usual today. Usually when I am sad, a hug always makes me feel better so I thought maybe that would help you.” Red pupils continued to stare at you making you feel nervous, wondering if you had upset him

🐥Your body was met with a strong impact, as Lucifer tackled you in a hug, squeezing you tightly to the point it was hard to breathe. His face was in the crook of your neck, as he continued to squeeze. “C-can’t br-eath.” Gasping out an answer, you felt Lucifer let you go, by still placed his hands on your shoulder.

🐥 “S-sorry! Sorry! I forget my own strength sometimes haha! You okay? No broken bones?” He kept moving his head to peer at you, making sure you were alright. His actions caused you to laugh, surprising him. “You’re such a dad.” Lucifer then smiled at that, placing a hand on his chest, “Of course I am! I am hells number one daddy!” That sentence caused you to cackle, confusing Lucifer even more. “Hahahaha! Don’t ever say that again!” Lucifer tilted his head at you: “Wait, what did I say?”

🐥His clueless side to him was quite cute at times. You managed to calm down. “Lucifer, if you ever need someone to talk to or have another one of your depressed episodes, come find me okay. I’ll be there to listen and also provide comforting hugs." He wore a shocked expression, before he broke into a kind smile, patting your head. "Thank you."

🐥The relationship the both of you had improved a lot. He was more open with you and would discuss his problems. He was kind enough to bring you to his workshop, showing you how to make his prized ducklings. You received a nice surprise when you went into your room and saw a duck figurine that resembled you, with a red rose lying next to it.

Cherri Bomb🍒

🍒"Woah! Hey bit✪✪!! Why the sudden tackle? You looking to throw down?" Cherri is very hyperactive and fun-loving, you almost never see her depressed about anything. She is either throwing bombs during turf wars or partying at the club with Angel Dust. She wasn't close with everyone at the hotel except Angel, but she was friendly as long as you didn't do something to piss her off.

🍒However, she does have a sensitive side to herself, but she puts up a tough guard to hide it. The three of you, yourself, Cherri and Angel were partying at a popular sex club, chugging down shot after shot. It took you a while to notice, since you were slightly buzzed, that Cherri had a more sad expression on her face then usual. You were about to question what was wrong, but she got up quickly from the bar, saying she was going out for a quick smoke.

🍒Sensing something else was going, on you let Angel know that you would be right back, before following after Cherri. Looking everywhere, you were able to find her on the patio deck of the club, smoking a cigarette while leaning on the metal bar. She didn't noticed you until she heard the sound of the door sliding and saw you walking towards her.

🍒 "Oh! Hey hoe! Whatcha doing out here? Craving a smoke too?" She was smiling wide at you, but you can tell that it was forced. Walking closer to her, you threw her arms around her, causing her one eye to stare at you in shock. ""Woah mate! Whats wrong with ya?" She patted one of your arms, wondering what was going on. "Cherri, drop the act already. I saw that look on your face in the club. There is obviously something going on. So come on, spill it."

🍒 Cherri's eye just widen further and the smile on her face dropped. She turned her head down, not saying a word to you as you kept holding her. "AGH! I'm just pissed with myself at the moment! I'm trying so hard to obtain the level of overlord, but it's not working. I need that status, so I can help Angie to be rid of that moth fu✪✪face!!" Cherri yelled out, as she threw the cigarette from her hand, while punching the metal bar with her fist. You continued to listen to her, and hugged her tighter.

🍒You both stayed like that for a bit, before you spoke: "You will do it Cherri Bomb! I believe in you and so does Angel Dust. Its gonna be hard in the beginning, but you can do it. I want the same for Angel too and I'll try to help in anyway I can." After that little speech you gave, you felt Cherri shaking with laughter. "AHAHAHA! Sorry mate, but you fighting in turf wars? I'm sorry, but your baby face is way to sweet to be considered a threat!" Her words cause you to pout. "Still, thanks mate for coming out here and making me feel better." She moved her body, positioning herself so she could hug you back.

🍒The both of you let go after that, just in time for Angel Dust to come, wondering where the both of you went. "Cherri? Toots? What's going on? Y'all been gone for a while, I thought you bailed on me!" The both of you laughed and walked closer to Angel. "Nothing Angel. Just having some girl talk." You didn't want to tell Angel what had happened before since you probably expected Cherri didn't want to worry him. You felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, and pulled you closer to them. Cherri smiled down at you before looking back at Angel. "Sorry Angie, got distracted. Lets get back to the party! I owe you a drink Y/N!" Cherri looked down at you when she said that before pulling you to the bar, with Angel following behind, wearing a smirk.

🍒Cherri exchanged numbers with you after that. She chatted with both you and Angel on the regular. Her messages were very wild and enthusiastic, either sending a picture of herself in a fight or just making funny inappropriate jokes. She had invited you to her crib to hang out at one point. You should consider yourself lucky, cause she only invites the people she cares about to her place, so the fact that she did that means she considers you a very close friend. She has offered to help train you too, since she noticed your lack of skill in combat, so she wanted to help prepare you. She knew that it would help you in the long run and also allow you to tag team together in a turf war.

Vox📺

📺Hugging Vox was not as simple as you think. He had a reputation to uphold as one of the three Vee's. Also he didn't like being touched.

📺He was an alright guy despite his massive ego. You had been in his business for a while, so you knew quickly how he function and acted in certain situations. His mood had been very sour lately, since he had just realized his arch enemy, the radio demon was back after disappearing for seven years. His great plan was to call Alastor out during one of his video podcasts, only to be mocked down by Alastor, causing him to short circuit and cause all the power to be cut off.

📺Vox remained in his office after that, fuming. His screen was flickering every once in a while, as blue sparks kept popping up around him. You hesitated a bit, as you stood at the door to his office, contemplating if you should go in a calm him down or just let him cool off on his own. Finally reaching a decision, you walked in.

📺He was sitting in his large red chair, in front of his multiple screens. The back of the chair was facing you, as you walked closer to wear he was. Having reached closer to him, you look at him, seeing if he was okay. He was leaned back against the chair, hands covering his screen. It was mumbling something to himself, which was hard to make out, but you heard some words like "alastor" and "a✪✪hole."

📺Clearing your throat, you allowed your presence to be know to him. Vox jumped a bit, before removing one of hands to look at you. He was clearly irritated, given the scowl on his face. "The hell you doing in here? I made in clear I was not to be disturbed." You bounced back a bit at his tone, but you stood strong. "I apologize, sir. I had come to see if you were alright, since you have been in here for a few hours." Vox continued to glare at you before putting his hand back to cover his face. "Argh! That old fashion radio di✪✪head still has me pissed off!" You listen to him rant, and wanted to at least find a way to ease his emotions. "Will you allow me to help calm you down?"

📺Vox removed his hands from his face, his screen eyebrows arched up a bit. He gave a sigh and just waved his hand in the air, saying to do whatever. Taking a deep breath, you walked closer to Vox, leaning down to wrap your arms around him. Vox just froze, hands raised up in shock. He wasn't expecting something like this. After a few seconds, you let him go and stood back up, rubbing your neck. "Sorry! I- That always use to make me feel better whenever I am upset about something, so I though that would help you." You continued to look down away from Vox, afraid that you overstepped.

📺You slowly look back at him, hoping he wasn't more enraged. He surprisingly wasn't, but was more stumped then anything. Soon his screen face lit up with his blue-teethed smile. "Well that was a surprise! Didn't expect you to do that?" He continued to smirk at you, which made you twiddle your fingers. "Sorry." Vox just gave a huff, turning his face away. "Well I didn't hate it." That comment surprised you. You weren't able to see his face,, but his screen looked a tad pinkish, but it was hard to make out. Letting out a cough, he turned back and stretched. "Well time to get back and do some overlord work. You can head back and do whatever." Smiling, you bowed your head a bit, "Very well, sir." You turned around, beginning to walk back to the sliding doors. "Vox." You stopped and turned back, "I'm sorry?" Vox spun his chair, around facing you, "You can call me Vox." His face was hard to read, since you never seen him with that kind of expression before. He slowly turned back around, back of the chair facing you now.

📺He was a bit different after that whole interaction. Yes, he was still the egotistical Vox, but he acted a bit softer when he was with you behind closed doors. He would ask how your day was and how the new Voxtech sales were coming along. He tried to have you around more, whenever he was doing his podcasts or having a meeting with the other Vees. You noticed his eyes staring at you, with a sort of soft look, but he would quickly turn around like nothing was happening.

Valentino🦋

🦋It wasn't easy to offer Valentino a hug. He was one of the the three V's, the overlords that dominated most of Pentagram city. Valentino was a busy man, since he controlled a lot of the lustful side of the city, so he was either surrounded by hot demons or working as the director for his porn videos.

🦋 However, he was prone to hissy fits, that would result in him either breaking multiple things in his office or injure one of Velvette's models. You weren't sure what caused this tantrum, but you could hear Valentino's squeaks of rage from his office.

🦋After a couple minutes, it began to quiet down, giving you a sign that it was safe to enter his office now. Opening the door to his office, you saw the mayhem that was now his office space. Papers had scattered the floor, some clothes were throw on the ground and broken pieces of glass were scattered everywhere on the floor. In the middle of the room was a giant red smoke cloud, likely containing the moth himself. You could see him a bit through the smoke, wearing a scowl, but his eyes were closed.

🦋You didn't say a word, and just started to clean up the mess. Valentino peeked his eye out to look at you, and closed it again. After fixing his clothes and throwing away the shards of glass, you picked up the papers, assembling them in a stack and walk over to his desk. Placing them down, you looked up at the moth man in front of you. He was still wearing a scowl, while muttering little curses under his breath. "Umm..Mr. Valentino?", calling out his name, you approached a bit closer, to where you were standing near his chair. Valentino opened his eyes, flashing crimson at you. "What is it?" his tone was still agitated, and his eyes were glaring at you.

🦋You fiddled with your fingers for a bit, then you slowly got closer to him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. He was very tall, but since he was sitting down, it was easier for you to place your arms around his back, putting you head next to his neck Valentino let out a little squeak in shock, his multiple arms jumping up, which caused the pipe in one of his hands to drop to the ground. "Oh~ You looking to play gatita?" You could tell he was smirking at what you were doing. You shook your head, "I'm not doing this to have sex with you. I'm giving you a hug to cheer you up." Valentino was quiet after you said that. You were about to let go, thinking you made him more upset, but you felt his arms pull you closer, lifting you up to have you sit on his lap. His head bent down as well, leaning closer to your neck.

🦋None of you had said a word, as you continued to hug each other. You felt a pair of lips kiss your neck, giving you goosebumps. Slowly Valentino removed his head from your neck. His two hands moved to push you back, before placing the both of them on your cheeks. He was wearing a very tender expression, it was quite a surprise to see since you only saw him with a smirk or glare. "Gracias hermosa." Leaning down, he placed a kiss on your forehead, causing you to blush.

🦋His attitude with you change entirely after that. He was still a horny bastard, but he cooled it down for you. He wanted you with him at all times, either next to you or sitting on his lap. Vox took a notice to how different Valentino was being, but he didn't question it, since it saved him time and prevented him from having to come and calm Valentino down himself. Valentino began to send you little gifts as well, you expected something erotic like vibrators, but surprisingly, you got roses and beautiful jewelry. He started addressing you by your name more, or he would called you "hermosa" like he did when he kissed your forehead. Welp, looks like you have a giant moth demon attracted to you now.

~END~

(Sorry no Velvette in this headcanon. It is hard for me to write her character. Maybe i'll do a separate headcanon for just Velvette when I have time)

Tag List:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi , @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @lokis-imaginary-friend , @themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @pawstrey , @futureittomainn , @christinaatyourservice92 , @littledolly2345 , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 , @mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow , @madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel , @ainsliemac

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rrxnjun · 9 months

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where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him.

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude.

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all.

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would.

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe.

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…”

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier.

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose.

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one.

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence.

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–”��

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now– as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?”

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help.

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice.

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car.

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack.

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this?

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening.

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place.

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind.

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain.

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different.

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike.

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile.

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest.

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about.

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning.

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now.

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body.

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface.

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft.

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?”

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you.

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more.

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough.

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed?

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him.

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time.

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair.

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him.

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again.

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else.

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge.

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression.

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence. “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

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reiderwriter · 9 months

Text

The Lightbulb Moment

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

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

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

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

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

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

My Masterlist✨

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know?”

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

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

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

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

–X–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–X–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah? Go ahead and tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–X–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–X–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--X–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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