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incognit0slut · 2 months ago

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Crawling back to you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Simmons!Reader Summary: You never planned on having a casual fling with your brother's friend five years ago, nor did you expect him to fall in love with you, which forced you to end things abruptly. But now he's unexpectedly back in your life—older, wiser, and fully intent on winning your heart. Content: (18+) >12k words, reader has commitment issues, he’s the softest softdom i’ve ever written, female oral, fingering, unprotected p in v, a little squirting? teeth rotting fluff and a chaotic ending because who am i without my crack humor A/n: This is for @imagining-in-the-margins FWB writing challenge and somewhat a celebration post for 7k milestone. Idk how that happened but tysm :( I hope you like this as much as I did writing it because matt simmons is so underrated??? I’m also freaking nervous with this i haven’t posted a new fic in a while so please please please be nice i feel like throwing up

Surprise has a way of stopping time. Although you're not sure you can call it that. What you’re experiencing is more than just surprise, it’s the kind of feeling that makes you freeze in place. It’s not just a jolt to the system—it’s a full-body takeover. Your breath catches, your heart skips, and your thoughts scatter like leaves caught in the wind. How could they not, when the last person you expected to see is standing right in front of you, clad in the most questionable clothes?

You almost laugh at how absurd he looks. He’s wearing an oversized hoodie with a tacky “Washington D.C.” print sprawled across the front. It’s baffling why he’s draped in that shapeless thing over his freakishly tall frame, but it’s too hard to focus on something so trivial when you’re still grasping with the reality of seeing him again. You really can’t believe it. Spencer Reid is here. The Spencer Reid.

The guy whose heart you broke five years ago.

You should have seen this coming. In fact, you kind of did, when your brother’s friends came rushing into the hospital room, their voices a chorus of “oohs” and “aahs” as they crowded around the newborn cradled in Kristy’s arms. You exchanged polite greetings when they noticed you—Penelope even pulled you into a tight hug, gushing about how amazing you looked—and thankfully, there was no sign of him.

But you’d almost allowed yourself to believe he wouldn’t show up. When the small space became overly crowded, you stepped out into the waiting room to catch your breath… only to find him standing a few feet away with JJ.

And just like that, all the air seems to vanish from your lungs.

You had a plan, of course. In the back of your mind, you always knew a chance meeting was inevitable, whether you liked it or not. And that plan was simple. You’d offer him a polite smile. Exchange a few words, nothing too personal. You’d be friendly but distant, always make sure to keep the kind of composure that says you’ve moved on, and that the past is just that: the past.

But those well-laid plans seem fragile now, almost naive as you suddenly caught his smile. Now how do you stick to a script when your heart is starting to rewrite all the lines? Or blur the lines specifically, when the past and present merge so seamlessly that you’re reminded of the first time that same smile had charmed you.

You’re suddenly thrown back to that day five years ago, when your brother had thrown a barbecue cookout to celebrate some joint investigation his team had wrapped up. You didn’t know the details—didn’t really care to, if you were honest—but Matt had called you and insisted that you join him.

You hadn't thought much of it at the time. It sounded like another family gathering with a few new faces. But that was the day you met Spencer, and what began as a simple introduction quickly spiraled into something much more complicated. Really complicated. Because as charmed as you were by his smile, he had wanted something more from you when all you could offer him was your body.

So you ran away.

Although not very far, because apparently, he’s standing a few steps away from you, five years later. And the worst part? He’s now very much aware that you’re here. You watch as his jaw slacks open as he takes a double-take. You’re rooted in place. JJ, on the other hand, tugs his sleeve as she notices his demeanor slowly shutting down. She turns around to see what’s caught his attention, and when she spots you, a huge smile spreads across her face.

"Hey! You're here!” You force yourself to look away from him as she moves forward. You reciprocate the hug she throws at you. "How are you?”

You’re not entirely sure how to answer. How do you even explain that your heart just did a triple backflip and landed somewhere near your stomach? Or that you’re seconds away from having an internal existential crisis because, of course, the universe would choose this moment to throw Spencer Reid back into your life?

There's really no good way to sum that up. So instead, you plaster on a smile that probably looks more like a grimace and reply, "Good. I’m good.”

JJ doesn’t seem to notice the strained edges in your voice. “It’s so nice to see you again! How long has it been?”

There’s a moment of silence as you try to gather your thoughts. But before you can respond, Spencer’s voice suddenly cuts through the quiet. It’s soft, almost hesitant, as if he’s been holding onto this detail for far too long, but every syllable rings in your ears.

"Five years," he says. "Five years, three months, and seventeen days."

Your stomach does another flip. JJ raises her brows, her eyes darting between you and him. You carefully meet her gaze. "Actually, you and I met up last year.”

“Oh, right!” She exclaims, her face lighting up as the memory clicks into place. “You were in town for a conference, right? I totally forgot about that.”

“You were in town last year and you didn’t tell me?”

God, he’s making it terribly hard for you to keep your composure. You throw him a sidelong glance. “I didn’t know you wanted to see me.”

His expression shifts slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. He looks at you as if your words sounds ludicrous to him.

“I always want to see you.”

You can't decide what surprises you more, the fact that he still wants to see you after all these years, or how easily he says it. The words roll off his tongue so casually, so effortlessly, as if the weight of your shared past doesn’t cling to them. And to make matters worse, he's saying this right in front of JJ, who is now staring at him, clearly scrutinizing the significance behind his words.

You quickly shift your attention to her, forcing another smile. "So, are you going to head inside?"

JJ blinks at you. “Oh, yeah, I probably should.” She turns to Spencer and gives him a quick but knowing glance. "See you on Monday, Spence."

You glance at him. “You're not going to see the baby?"

"Spencer’s got something he needs to take care of,” JJ chimes in. There’s a slight edge to her voice, like she knows exactly what that ‘something’ is, but she doesn’t elaborate. She gives him one last look before heading inside.

You catch yourself looking up at him again. “You’re leaving?”

Spencer pauses, studying you carefully, his brow furrowing just slightly like he’s trying to read between the lines of your question.

“I was,” he says softly.

There’s a sudden tightness in your chest. “Right.”

“But now I don’t want to.”

There it goes again, the butterflies in your stomach. This is exactly why you didn’t want to see him. You knew that once you looked into his eyes, heard his voice, it would stir up everything you’ve spent five years trying to bury. You’d told yourself it was better to pretend that whatever happened between you was nothing more than a stupid choice. But now, standing here with him so close, you can feel all those walls you built crumbling down with just a few words.

You finally look at him, like really look at him. It’s impossible not to notice how he’s changed over the past five years. There are faint lines around his eyes now, signs of age that wasn't there before. His hair is longer, a little messier. It curls around his ears in a way that makes him look almost boyish, yet undeniably charming which suits him more than you'd like to admit.

But even with all the changes, his smile—gentle and just a little shy—remains the same. That smile reminds you of a time when things were simpler, where it was enough to convince you that you didn't have to keep your guard up all the time. But then you remember the reason you walked away, and his smile becomes a little harder to look at.

Because while he's changed, grown, matured, so have you, and you're not sure if there's room for the person you are now in the space that once belonged to both of you.

His eyes scan you in the same way you’re assessing him. “You look good.”

Your mouth twitches at his words. You didn’t expect him to be so straightforward. “Thank you.”

“You’re even prettier than I remember.”

The sigh you let out is long and weary. He really knows how to push your buttons.

“Spencer. Don’t.”

“What?”

“You can’t just say things like that after—” You hesitate, crossing your arms. "After everything. What happened to 'Hi, how are you?’. Or maybe something simple like ‘What have you been up to? Anything new?’”

He blinks, clearly taken aback by your abruptness. “Okay. Hi, how are you?”

You cast him a wary glance. “Good.”

"What have you been up to?"

"Work."

"Anything new?"

"No."

He pauses again, his eyes searching yours before he asks, "No new boyfriend?"

You frown. “Huh?”

“Girlfriend?”

"Spencer."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"Spencer."

He smiles sheepishly, his shoulders sagging slightly. "You're right, that was inappropriate. I didn't think I would see you again, it’s throwing me off a bit."

“You didn’t think I would be here for my newborn niece?”

His smile turns into a grimace. "I guess I wasn't thinking clearly." He shifts on his feet, fidgeting with his fingers—a small, familiar tic that you hadn’t seen in years. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird.”

“It’s fine,” you reply, though there’s no real bite to your words. His nervous energy is making it hard to stay annoyed. Your eyes narrow on his oversized hoodie again, the casual, almost careless choice that seems slightly out of character for the Spencer you remember.

He seems to notice you staring so blatantly. “What?”

“You look funny.”

A hint of surprise flashes across his face. “You think I’m funny?”

“Different,” you correct. “Did you raid someone’s closet on your way here or something?”

"Oh… I had to change my clothes. I got wet at the park earlier.”

You glance towards the window with a frown. "It's not even raining."

"I ran through the sprinklers."

The cease on your forehead deepens. Even that sounds so unlike him. Spencer Reid doing something that carefree in public?

“You ran through the sprinklers? Alone?"

You notice his expression shift as the question leaves your lips, something very subtle, but you’ve known him long enough to catch it. The way his eyes flicker, the slight hesitation before he answers, makes it obvious. There’s a hint of something unspoken in the way he looks at you, and suddenly, it all clicks into place.

He wasn’t alone.

You look away. It's ridiculous, you think. To feel this somewhat… jealous when it should be the last thing on your mind because, really, what right do you have? What you had with him wasn’t even a relationship to begin with. But despite all the logic in the world, you can’t help the pang in your chest, the twist of something bitter and familiar curling in your gut.

"It's not what you think," he slowly says.

You force a small, awkward laugh, trying to brush it off. "I wasn’t assuming anything. It’s none of my business, anyway."

"No, really, it's nothing like that." he insists, scrunching his nose in the way he does when he's trying to think. "I mean, I did meet someone at the park, but it’s not like… what you might be thinking. We were just talking, and… and then there were these sprinklers and it wasn’t really planned or anything, then she—well, technically, we weren’t even alone the whole time because there were other people around, and it’s not like we—”

“Spencer, you don’t have to explain—” you begin, but then something dawns on you. “Wait, is this what JJ was referring to? Did you… Did you have plans?”

You notice his Adam’s apple dip as he swallows. "Kind of," he admits. “But it wasn't anything serious. It was just, you know, a casual thing.”

You can't help the way your stomach knots. Casual could mean anything. Maybe a simple coffee between two friends, or even a lighthearted conversation over lunch. But in your experience, at least in the book you and Spencer had written together in the past, casual had always meant sex. And now, hearing him say it about someone else feels like a punch to the gut you hadn't expected.

You suddenly feel foolish for letting your mind go there, for assuming that whatever he meant by casual was the same thing it had meant for the two of you back then. It's been five years, and so much has changed. Maybe casual means something entirely different for him now, and you're the one stuck in the past, reading into things that no longer hold the same weight.

He must have noticed the slight falter in your expression, the way your eyes momentarily cloud over with something you can’t quite hide. He takes a step forward. "It’s really nothing.”

You take a step back. “Even if it is, it’s really not my business.”

“But it’s not,” he urges. He’s suddenly so persistent, and you can’t help but feel the embarrassment gnawing you at how easily he can read your mind. It's one thing to wrestle with these feelings privately, but having them so clearly acknowledged makes it all the more humiliating. You can’t believe you let yourself get so worked up over something that shouldn’t matter this much.

You eye the exit door. “I need to go.”

"Right now?” His brows knit together in confusion. “But your family’s here."

You’ve only spent a few minutes with him and you’re already running away.

"I just remembered I have to take care of… something."

The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, but you don’t wait for his response. You quickly turn on your heel, and when he calls out your name with concern, you force yourself to keep moving, scurrying off down the hallway.

Me: I'm heading back first Big bro: You okay? Me: Bad headache Big Bro: You didn't eat anything, did you?

You scoff. What is it about your brother always zeroing in on eating whenever you complain about feeling off?

Me: You know I did. Just not much Big Bro: That’s what I thought. There’s some leftover dinner in the fridge. And check the second drawer in the kitchen, there should be some ibuprofen Me: Yes, Dad Big Bro: Don’t get smart with me Me: 🫡 Big Bro: Drink lots of water Me: Yes, sir. Anything else on your mind while you’re giving out parental advice? Big Bro: I’m just trying to keep myself from dragging you out of my house if you collapse Me: 🙄 Big Bro: The kids are staying with Kristy’s parents, I’ll drop by tomorrow morning Me: Okay Big Bro: Call me if you need anything

You toss your phone down on the bed, then let out the most exasperated sigh. Spending your Saturday night in your brother’s guest room is the last thing you expect to be doing, let alone faking a headache just to avoid confronting a situationship from the past. You honestly thought you’d outgrown this kind of avoidance, but here you are, slipping back into old habits as if no time has passed at all.

Ironically, your mind stumbles into the past, and you remember a conversation you once had with Spencer. It was during one of those nights when you both were tangled in each other’s arms. You could faintly remember the conversation started with him talking about his work.

He never actually told you the details of his cases, but he liked to share his thoughts on the different complexities of the human mind. And on that particular night, he was rambling about the psychological concept of avoidance, which he claimed to have detected the first time he spotted the bad guy. He went on at how people often retreat into familiar behaviors to protect themselves from discomfort.

At the time, you had brushed it off with a joke, teasing him about overanalyzing everything when the situation had already played out. But now the irony isn’t lost on you. You’re doing exactly what he once explained. It’s almost laughable if it didn’t sting so much to realize how right he was.

A sharp ding from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts, and one glance at it tells you exactly who’s messaging. The name on the screen makes your chest tighten, but you don’t even give yourself a moment to consider responding. You quickly turn the phone to silent, push yourself off the bed, and head straight for the kitchen. True to your brother’s words, there’s leftover pizza in the fridge, but the idea of reheating it doesn’t seem appealing to you.

You reach for the bottle of wine instead.

The red liquor tastes like butter, or something close to it. It’s similar in the way the liquid melts over your tongue, spreading warmth through your chest and settling comfortably in your belly. By the time you're sipping the second glass, you feel more relaxed, but then the sharp sound of the doorbell ringing cuts through the calm.

You glance at the door from the position of the couch. You have a strong feeling about who it is. But as much as you're sure of the who, what really gnaws at you is the why.

You hesitantly make your way toward the door, and sure enough, when you pull it open, Spencer is standing at your brother’s doorstep. The corner of his lips turns upward in an awkward, almost apologetic half-smile as if he’s unsure of how to begin or whether he should even be there in the first place.

You lean against the doorframe. “Did Matt tell you I was here?”

He gives you a pointed look, his eyebrows raising slightly. “No, but it wasn’t hard to figure out.” You throw him the same questioning look, and he explains, “This is the only place you’d stay in town because not only do you hate staying alone at a hotel, but Matt wouldn’t let you even if you tried.”

You can’t believe he still remembers your offhand comment about sterile hotel rooms. It’s one of the reasons you used to prefer staying at his apartment whenever you were in town.

“Why are you here anyway?” You ask. “I thought you had plans.”

He pauses for moment as if deciding how much to say. Finally, he clears his throat. “Can I come in? I’d rather explain it inside.”

"I don't think you owe me any explanations about what you do with your time," you reply, crossing your arms.

"Maybe I don't owe it, but I want to give it.”

“Which isn’t necessary.”

“But appreciated, I hope.”

You find yourself caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. You tell yourself not to read too much into it, but there's a part of you that can't help but soften at his words. Maybe it's the way his eyes reminds you of melted chocolate as he stares at you that makes you want to let him in, despite your better judgment.

You pull the door open. “Fine, but take your shoes off. Kristy’s very serious about hygiene.”

He does as he’s told and tucks away his shoes on the rack by the door.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

He shakes his head slightly, offering a small smile. "I'm good, thanks."

You nod and gesture toward the living room. He follows you, and as you both approach the couch, he instinctively moves to the far end, settling down cautiously as if not wanting to invade your space. You take a seat on the opposite end.

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

He leans back slightly, resting his hands on his knees. You can tell he's trying to gauge your mood, figure out how much to push and when to hold back. "Do you remember when we went on that date at the street fair?"

You frown, remembering how you had missed your bus home in one of your trips here and ended up wandering at the fair with him. “That wasn’t a date.”

"Fine. Do you remember when we went to the street fair together not on a date?"

“I remember."

His shoulders relax a bit at your response. “You spent ages deciding what to eat and you ended up choosing that little Korean stall in the corner. We had to walk a bit further to get there even when your shoes were hurting you.”

You think back, internally scolding yourself for wearing those damn boots that day. “You thought I was being ridiculous.”

"I didn't think it was ridiculous. I just didn't get it at first. Your feet were practically covered in blisters."

"I really wanted kimchi."

"I could tell, and it took me a while to understand why you went through all that trouble. Now I do.”

You glance at him, sensing there's more behind his words. “Why are you bringing this up?"

He meets your gaze. His brown eyes looking a little more golden underneath the dim light. "I guess this is me choosing.”

“That you’re craving for Korean?”

He gives a soft, genuine laugh, the kind that starts in his chest and reaches his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. “Not exactly,” he says and leans a little closer. “What I’m trying to say is, that’s how I feel right now. I'm here because I want to be, not because it's convenient, but because it’s you.”

There’s a subtle flutter in your chest, and your skin prickles with a familiar warmth as he speaks. Your heart beats a little faster, not enough to be alarming, but just enough to remind you that you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be. You can feel your palms start to sweat, and there’s that almost imperceptible hitch in your breathing that you hope he doesn’t notice.

“Spencer…” You don’t even know how to start. “It’s been five years."

He nods slowly. “I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do. A lot of has changed since the last time we saw each another, and you’re here acting like we both separated on good terms? Don't you hate me?”

His brow furrows slightly. “Why would I hate you?”

“Because I broke your heart. I—" Your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words. "The moment you told me you were falling in love with me, I... I ran. I couldn’t handle it. I pushed you away like a coward.”

“You weren't a coward, you were scared. And maybe I didn’t understand that back then, but I do now.”

You shake your head. “But I hurt you.”

The sigh he lets out is heavy, yet there's something deceptively calm about it, almost as if he’s already made peace with the past. “You did what you thought you had to do, and sure, it hurt. But I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I realized that I don’t blame you for needing space. It wasn’t about me not being enough, it was about you needing to protect yourself.”

His words start to chip away at the wall you’ve built around your heart. “I thought you’d hate me,” you admit quietly.

“I could never hate you."

You lower your gaze, your fingers fiddling nervously with the edge of the cushion. “Alright, let’s say you choose me. Now what? What is it that you want?”

He pauses for a moment, his fingers curled into his palms. He looks away briefly, taking a deep breath as if gathering his thoughts, then returns his gaze to you. “I want another chance.”

If you were surprised to see him at the hospital earlier, this is something entirely different. There’s something akin to panic fluttering in your chest. It’s amusing, really, how the human body reacts before the mind fully comprehends as if your heart knows what’s coming before you do. You can feel it in the way your breath catches, in the way your stomach knots with a nervous energy you can’t quite shake. Because how do you even react to that?

You finally turn to face him, leaning your head against the back of the couch. This moment feels like some sort of déjà vu, and just like the last time, your mind is already bracing itself, preparing to give him the same answer you did back then.

“You know it’s never going to work.”

He mirrors you, but instead of the frustration or sadness you half-expected, there’s a gentle smile on his lips. “You sound so sure.”

“That’s because I am,” you reply. “I know what you’re asking for right now, and we don’t function like that. Not in the past, at least.”

“How did we function?”

“Based on sex.”

“And what do you think I’m asking for now?”

“More than sex, which isn’t going to work."

“Why not?”

“Because—” you start, but the words catch in your throat. You’re not even sure how to explain. The fears, the doubts, the past... all of it feels too big, too overwhelming to articulate in a way that makes sense.

“Because the idea still terrifies you?”

You frown, caught off guard by the directness of his question. “No.”

The smile stretches even more across his face. “Then give me one good reason why you think so.”

"Oh I can name a few."

He studies you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s trying to read every thought racing through your mind. “Let’s make a deal then. You give me those reasons why we can’t work, and I’ll give you reasons why we can.”

You’re quiet for a moment, considering his offer. It’s bold, almost reckless, and yet... there’s something in his eyes that makes you want to accept the challenge.

"And if your reasons aren’t good enough?"

“Then we’ll deal with that when we come to it,” he replies softly. “But I’m willing to bet we won’t have to.”

"You really think you can convince me?"

"I can try." He leans a little closer, just enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from his body. "So, what’s your first reason?"

That’s too easy, too obvious. “You’re one of my brother’s closest friends,” you point out. “What happens if this doesn’t work out? I don’t want to put him, or us, in that position.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “That didn’t stop us in the past.”

You scoff. “Spencer, we were sneaking around behind his back. It’s not exactly the same thing. This… whatever this is, it would be out in the open, and that’s a whole different level of complicated.”

“It would be different, yes. But that doesn’t mean it has to be a problem. If anything, it shows how serious we were then, and how serious we could be now.” You scrunch your nose at his response. “Now what’s next on your list?”

"Uhh.. the distance! You’re in D.C., and I’m not. It’s not like I can just drop everything and move closer.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re a three-hour drive away, maybe two if I take the expressway. And honestly, with how much we both travel for work, I don’t see how that’s an issue.”

His reasoning is so undeniably logical you feel a flicker of annoyance, not at him, but at how easily he’s dismantling your arguments.

“You didn’t even want to visit me back then.”

"You were the one who didn't want me to. You kept saying it was easier for you to come here.”

His words hit harder than you expect. You remember all the times you insisted on making the trips yourself. You'd convinced yourself it was about convenience, but with him calling you out on it, you realize it wasn't about convenience at all. It was about keeping things on your terms, maintaining a safe distance even when that distance wasn't physical.

"Well, I had more flexible hours," you claim. The excuse is flimsy, and the way Spencer looks at you—patient, but not fooled—makes it clear that he sees right through it.

You try to think of your next reason, although the words seem to get stuck before they even form. You know you can easily rattle off more excuses, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes it harder than it should be.

“That’s it? You’ve only thought of two? I was expecting a bit more of a challenge.”

You scowl at him. "I didn’t say I was done."

"Take your time," he comments, leaning back slightly, still wearing that infuriatingly patient smile.

You huff softly, trying to regain your footing. "Okay, how about this? Sex."

There's a beat of silence. "What about sex?"

You feel the words forming, but they sound ridiculous even in your own mind. Still, you force them out of your mouth. Your subconscious is urging you to come up with more excuses to keep him at arm’s length. "That was all that we had. What if… what if we just fall back into the same patterns?"

“Don't you think that's a reason why we can work? If we were only ever about sex and we're still here, doesn't that show there's something more between us?"

“Or it just means we had a strong physical connection. That doesn’t necessarily mean there’s something more.”

“You really believe that? That all we had was just physical?”

“Yes,” you retort, though the confidence in your voice wavers slightly. Your eyes flicker away for a split second before you meet his gaze again. “That’s all it ever was and I don’t know if it can turn into something you’re trying to imply.”

He lets out a low, amused sound, as the corners of his mouth twitches upward. “You’re deflecting.”

“I’m being realistic,” you shoot back. “What if we try, and it doesn’t work? What if everything falls apart because we weren’t good at anything but the sex?”

His eyes light up, and suddenly he’s wearing the most boyish grin you’ve ever seen on him. “So you're admitting the sex was good?"

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“You know what I mean. What we had was...” Wild? Passionate? Crazy-hot-mind-blowing sex? “…intense. But intensity isn't enough for a relationship. What if the rest of it doesn't hold up?"

He leans in closer, his hand hovering near yours on the couch.

“But what if it does?”

All you can do is stare at him.

“You’re giving me all these reasons to push me away again,” he continues. “But I’m here because I’m not afraid of those doubts. I’ve always wanted to give you more than what we had because you deserve something real. I want us to be real this time, and I think you do too, even if you’re scared to admit it.”

His words are affecting you more than you like to admit. You can slowly feel it in the tension building between you, it’s surprisingly not the uncomfortable kind, but the sort that pulls you in, that makes you want to move closer even though every instinct tells you to stay put.

And then it happens. You feel a slight tremor in your leg, an involuntary movement that causes it to brush against his. The contact is so light it's almost like it didn't happen at all, but it did. He notices—Of course he does—and now there’s a certain gentleness in his gaze like he knows exactly what's going on inside your head. He doesn't push, doesn't rush, just watches you with those impossibly kind eyes.

And in the softest, most careful voice, he asks, “Can I move closer?"

Your heart is pounding now, the rhythm echoing in your ears, in your chest, in the pulse at your throat. The sensation travels downward, a slow, steady beat that moves through your body, inching its way down your spine, tightening in your stomach before it settles low in your abdomen. It’s a heat that spreads outward until it reaches your core, leaving you acutely aware of every inch of space between you and him—and how much you want to close that distance.

You find yourself nodding. He shifts closer. “Can I touch you?”

You really want to say something witty, something that might deflect from the weight of the situation, but the words won’t come out. You can only manage another nod. He moves slowly, carefully, giving you every opportunity to pull back. But you don’t. You can’t. You’re rooted in place as his hand reaches for you.

His palm gently rests on your jaw. Your eyes flutter closed against your consciousness, and the tension that’s been coiling in your chest slowly unwinds, replaced by a sense of calm. When his thumb slides across your cheek, he speaks again. His voice is so close it's as if the words themselves are brushing over your lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

You inhale sharply. The word "Yes" hovers on the tip of your tongue, but you don't need to say it out loud. He can already see the answer in the way you’re leaning into him, and his mouth is on yours in an instant.

The reality is, you’ve kissed Spencer before. Plenty of times, actually. You know the feel of his lips, the way they can be both gentle and demanding, the way he tastes faintly of coffee or something sweet when he’s had a treat. You also think back to those hurried kisses in the past when time was short and the world was pressing down on you. Or the playful pecks that came with laughter. Even the desperate, heated moments when the need to feel something, anything, was too overwhelming to resist.

This kiss, however, isn’t like any of those. This one is slow, and achingly tender. His movements are unhurried. The way his lips glide over yours carries a deep sense of care, like he’s trying to memorize every soft curve. Just as you begin to melt in his arms, he pulls away slightly, not very far, but enough to hover close that you can still feel the heat of his breath on your lips.

There’s a tense silence as the tip of his nose brushes gently against your cheek. You can tell he’s giving you the space to decide what happens next, and there are a lot of scenarios running in your head. You could push him away, repeating history all over again. You could be in denial and pretend all of this never even happened. But something inside you snaps.

Maybe it’s the way he’s holding back, so gentle, so careful, too afraid of pushing too far. Or maybe it’s the realization that you don’t want him to hold back, that you need more, that you’re tired of resisting what you’ve both been dancing around for so long. Before you can second guess yourself, you’re clutching onto the fabric of his hoodie, tugging him closer.

He tenses for a moment, but the hesitation is gone almost as soon as it appears. His mouth finds yours again, and he lets out a deep, relieved sigh. You feel the soft, insistent push of his tongue against the seam of your lips. You hold onto him, parting your mouth eagerly before he slips his tongue with a desperation that catches you off guard.

Then his hands seem to be everywhere all at once, tracing the curve of your spine, sliding down to the small of your back, and brushing along the edge of your jaw. His fingers then tangle in your hair, tugging gently while his other hand skims over your waist. But when his hand slips inside your shirt, calloused fingers brushing your soft skin, you slowly pull away. “W-Wait.”

His eyes widen slightly, and you can feel the shift in his body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, no,” you say quickly, tugging him closer again. “I just… I think we should continue this conversation somewhere more… private?”

He pauses for a moment. “Really?”

“If you want to.”

A subtle smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Are you trying to seduce me for sex?”

You’re oscillating between being incredibly turned on and equally mortified. In a sense, yes, that’s what you’re asking. But you didn’t expect him to be so blunt about it. You don’t think he’s ever been this direct in the past, and now you’re wondering if you missed something before, or if he’s just tapped into a level of confidence you’re struggling to keep up with.

“Would it be inappropriate if I said that I am?” you ask hesitantly, and you can’t help but wince a little as the words leave your mouth.

“Since when have you been worried about being inappropriate with me?”

“Well, Spencer, if you haven’t noticed, there’s a five-year gap since the last time we slept together.”

His hand on your waist tightens slightly. “Five years too long, if you ask me.” Then he pulls you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. “You do realize this is you giving me a second chance, right?"

In a way, you do. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that you were better off keeping your distance. Walking away in the past was easy, but now… now it feels different. The years have stretched on, and the excuses you’ve made have started to wear thin. Especially when just being near him is starting to stir memories you thought you’d buried—some good, some less so—but all intense, all Spencer.

Maybe he's right. Maybe five years is too long to pretend that whatever was between you didn't matter.

You slowly meet his gaze. “I realize.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

You hesitate, not out of doubt, but because of the sheer gravity of what you're about to say.

"Maybe."

His sigh is audible when he hears your answer, and without missing a beat, he brushes the barest, lightest, most gentle of kisses on your lips. “Maybe is good.” Kiss. “I can take—” Kiss. Kiss. “—maybe.”

You think you should say something more, but all coherent thoughts scatter the instant his lips meet yours again. You return his kisses, hesitant at first, but quickly falling into a rhythm that feels achingly familiar. It doesn’t take long until his lips move into something more urgent. There’s a hunger there, a pent-up longing that he can no longer hold back. His tongue flicks against yours, teasing, coaxing, and you know you need to stop him before he starts to undress you right there on the couch.

You reluctantly pull back. “Bedroom. Now.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He pulls you to your feet, and you’re practically dragging him to the guest bedroom. When the door closes behind you, he’s quick to guide you toward the bed, his hands firm on your hips as he steers you backward. The moment your legs hit the edge of the bed, he pauses, his hands lingering on your waist, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Having second thoughts?” You tease. The sarcasm drips sweetly in your voice, knowing full well he’s been trying to win your heart the entire evening.

“No,” he mutters. “I’m trying to see if you are.”

You draw back from his arms just enough to climb onto the bed and lay down in the middle. “Does it look like I am?”

He shakes his head with that cute, bashful smile. Although there’s nothing bashful about the way he pulls off his hoodie and tosses it carelessly onto the floor. The shirt underneath is crumpled, and his hair is even messier, sticking up in ways that make you want to run your hands through it.

“Come here,” you motion for him. Without hesitation, he crawls between your legs and leans in for another kiss. His hair feels like the smoothest silk when you finally reach for it. There’s a slight dampness from the faint sheen of sweat on his skin, the way it curls just slightly at the ends, brushing against your forehead as he dips his head to capture your mouth.

You don’t think you can ever get tired of kissing him. There’s a familiarity in the way he moves. His lips mold perfectly to yours, soft yet demanding, as if he knows exactly how to draw out the deepest parts of your desire. And you feel it everywhere. In your pulse, in your veins, all the way down to the spot between your legs.

It intensifies even more when his lips begin to trail down your neck. You feel the first warm rush of arousal pooling in your panties when he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your throat, the fluttering veins below your jaw with so much intensity as if he's taking every one of your heartbeats for himself. Your grip tightens in his hair as he marks another spot near your collarbone.

“I’ve missed this so much,” he murmurs as he slowly nips down your neck. “I’ve missed you.”

You can only hum a reply, your voice catching in your throat as your head starts to spin from the way his hands are now trailing down your side. He reaches the hem of your shirt and pauses, fingers lightly tugging at the fabric.

“Can I take this off?” He asks, pulling back slightly just enough to look down at you. With his messy hair falling into his glossy brown eyes and swollen wet lips, how can you possibly say no to him?

Without a second thought, you nod, your fingers already moving to help him with the fabric. His eyes never leave yours as he slowly lifts your shirt. It slides up over your skin, and you raise your arms to let him pull it off completely, tossing it aside without a care. Your bra comes off next, and when that follows to the floor, his eyes sweep over your body.

There’s a certain look in his gaze. Devotion would be too strong of a word, but it’s something close—something softer, yet just as intense. You’ve seen desire before, felt it in fleeting touches and heated glances, but this is different. This feels different. It’s as if his gaze is reaching into the spaces between your thoughts, gently pulling at the threads that hold you together to unravel you in the most tender of ways.

He kisses the spot between your breasts.

“You’re always so pretty.”

He gives a soft peck just above your heart.

“So incredibly beautiful.”

Then his tongue flicks along the delicate curve of your chest, making a slow, teasing trail upward until he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks gently, rolling it around with his tongue, and you’re mesmerized by the lewd scene of him drawing your flesh between his lips. Your fingers instinctively find their way back into his hair, tugging on the soft strands as he continues to lap at your sensitive skin.

He then shifts slightly, his mouth releasing your nipple with a soft, wet sound before moving to give the same attention to the other. While he suckles and nibbles on one hardened peak, he rolls the other between his thumb and forefinger, sending a rush of pleasure straight to your core. If you thought you were wet before, you’re certain you’re drenched by now. Your panties cling uncomfortably and the growing desire makes you ache to peel them off.

He must sense your growing need because his kisses trail lower, down to your stomach, while his fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings. His touch is teasing, slipping just under the elastic, and you instinctively lift your hips, silently begging for more. He takes his time as he slides the fabric down your legs, his knuckles brushing against your skin before discarding them somewhere in the room.

Your attention is on him as his palm dances along your inner thigh, and the closer he gets to where you ache him the most, the more your breath hitches in your throat. When his thumb brushes over the wet patch on your panties, your hips buck against him. “Spencer…”

He glances over at you and lets out the most appreciative sigh. You really are beautiful. Eyes full of lust, skin flushed with his marks. You’re a vision of longing, and every part of him is consumed by the sight of you. “Yes?”

You squirm under his gaze. “Aren’t you… going to take them off?”

A slow, teasing smile spreads across his face. “What, these?” He gives a playful tug at the edge of your panties, his fingers just barely slipping beneath the fabric before pulling away. “Are you sure you want them off?”

You try to hold back your groan when his thumb finds your clit. “Yes. I-I’m sure.”

He grins, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you, but instead of giving in immediately, he begins to circle your clit slowly with his thumb, watching your reaction closely. “On a scale from one to ten, how sure are you?”

Now he’s starting to get on your nerves. You can’t hold back the small huff falling from your lips. He simply laughs then slowly takes off the last piece of your clothing. The cool air instantly hits your skin as he grabs your knees, spreading your legs apart. He skims along your naked body and when you notice where his gaze settles, you swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy.

It's kind of ironic, you think, how you've gotten this far, and now, of all times, you're suddenly blushing like a damn teenager. It's as if your brain is catching up to everything your body already knows—that this is real, and it's happening. You can't help but laugh at yourself a little. Here you are, all tangled up in each other, practically begging him to get you naked and yet you're acting shy now?

He seems to notice the shift in your mood, his hands pausing on your thighs as he looks up at you with concern. He tilts his head slightly, his brow furrowing. “Did I do something wrong?”

You quickly shake your head. “I’m suddenly feeling very self-conscious.”

He studies your face for a moment. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” you blurt out, more forcefully than you intended, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab his wrist. “I… I guess I’m not used to feeling this exposed in front of you.”

He shifts slightly, moving closer so he’s eye-level with you, his hands still resting gently on your thighs. “We’ve done this countless times before.”

“I know, but that was years ago. Things feel different now… like there’s more at stake, maybe?” You let out a sigh. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly,” he reassures you. He soothes the skin behind your thighs. “But you don’t need to feel self-conscious with me. You’re beautiful, and I just want you to feel as good as you make me feel.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, there’s no doubt you’ll end up giving him your heart on a silver platter by the end of this. He shifts lower down your body. “We can go as slow as you want,” he continues, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another. “Just tell me what you need.”

You take a deep breath as his soft stubble grazes your skin. “I need you.”

“Then you’ll have me.”

You watch with heavy lids as he drags his lips along your skin until he presses the most tender kiss on your cunt. He really wasn’t lying when he said he could go as slow as you want because every kiss is achingly gentle, barely more than a feather-light touch. It’s the kind of softness that makes you writhe beneath him, and before you know it, your fingers are tangling in his curls while your hips buck against his face.

There’s a slight vibration on your skin—it could be his laughter, or maybe just a hum of contentment—but you don’t bother deciphering it. You’re too lost in the sensation as his tongue breaches your folds. You peer down and watch as he trails the tip of his tongue through your wetness, slowly tracing up and down your slit until he flicks it against your clit.

You’re honestly gone after that. You’re not surprised, though. If there’s one thing Spencer Reid is good at, it’s knowing exactly how to use his mouth. Sure, he’s a bona fide genius who spouts off random facts and quotes obscure literature, but his mouth? His mouth is a whole different level of expertise. It’s almost unfair how good he is. It’s like he’s studied you, memorized every little thing that makes you go crazy, and now he’s putting all that knowledge to devastatingly good use.

And it’s not like he’s doing it just for your pleasure. It brings him the same deep satisfaction. His eyes are closed, and he seems to lose himself in the act, savoring every taste, every reaction, every subtle shift of your body beneath him. It’s as though he’s completely immersed in finding an almost insatiable need to drink in everything about you. His tongue delves deeper, swirling around your entrance before sucking gently on your folds, pulling the soft skin into his mouth.

You find yourself pressing his head closer to your heat. His eyes flickers up to you. “You’re back.” Your response is simply another push of his head. “Oh. Needy, are we now?”

"Mhm," you manage to squeak out, feeling a rush of wetness seeping out of you. He leans in, his tongue catching a bead of moisture before it drips further, dragging it between your slick folds.

Your grip in his hair tightens.

“Spencer…”

“I know, I know,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a smile before his mouth descends again, this time focusing on your clit. His tongue flicks over the sensitive nub before he gently sucks, pulling it into his mouth with a slow rhythm that has you gasping. Each motion is perfectly timed and you feel yourself growing even wetter under his attention. His tongue swirls, then flattens before he sucks a little harder.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel that familiar coil in your stomach. The pleasure builds steadily, the tension winding tighter and tighter until it slowly overwhelms you. Spencer seems to sense it too, his hands gripping the back of your thighs a little tighter, pushing them further apart as he continues with unwavering focus. He’s not rushing, though, he’s savoring it, but his slow motion is enough to make you snap.

Your hips jerk against his mouth, and he doesn’t miss a beat, holding you steady as he continues his ministrations. He’s relentless in his gentleness, coaxing every ounce of pleasure from you, even as you’re left gasping for air. When you finally come down from the high, Spencer finally lifts his head and places a final, soft kiss on your inner thigh.

“Do you still feel self-conscious now?”

It takes you a moment before you can answer. You smile lazily at him. “Not after that.”

He grins and pulls you up into a sitting position. “Do you think you can give me another one?”

“Spencer,” you breathe out. “Even if you gave me thousands of orgasms, I’d probably ask for more.”

The laugh he lets out is warm and infectious, the sound vibrating through you in a way that makes you smile even wider. “Well,” he starts, slipping his hand down your thigh. “The human body is capable of experiencing multiple orgasms in a relatively short period of time, especially for women. So technically, you could keep asking for more, and I could keep giving them.”

“Even up to a thousand?”

“Maybe not to that extent.” He pulls you close, and you lean your weight against him. “Hold on to me.”

You do as you’re told and somehow you find yourself in a new position. When he spreads your legs apart, your senses go on high alert again. “Spence?”

He kisses your cheek, your jaw, then the corner of your mouth. “Try to relax.”

A gasp escapes your lips as his fingers dive between your thighs. Try to relax? Try to relax? Men and their audacity to tell you what to do, especially when they're the reason you're so wound up in the first place. Because how are you supposed to relax when his fingertips are brushing ever so gently over your clit? How are you supposed to calm your breathing when he’s spreading your arousal up and down your folds?

And how are you supposed to keep your composure when he suddenly fills you with, not one, but two of his fingers?

You feel yourself slipping and he tightens his other arm around your waist. “Told you to hold on.”

He’s starting to annoy you, but you listen to him and bury your face in the crook of his neck. You take a deep breath as he starts to move his fingers. Soap, you decide. It must be his soap, because he smells clean and crisp, almost like fresh linen and a hint of something peppery. It’s almost distracting if it weren’t for the way his fingers are curling inside of you.

Then you feel that sensation again, the kind that ripples through every nerve of your body. At first, it’s manageable, an intensity you think you can handle. But when he suddenly changes his technique, everything shifts. His entire hand moves in a fast, up-and-down motion that catches you completely off guard, and before you know it, you’re whining, your grip tightening on him as your head falls on his shoulder.

The rapid pace makes your head spin. It feels like he’s pulling the control right out of your hands, leaving you questioning your own limits. You’ve seen yourself getting wet, you’ve felt yourself become drenched before, but you’ve never experienced anything like this. You never realized your body could produce this much liquid. It’s not an overwhelming amount, but more than you’ve ever seen from yourself, and it splatters against his hand, dripping down your thighs.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch when your nails claw into his shirt. He keeps going, and going, and going, until the only thing you hear is your rapid breathing against his neck and the slick, wet sounds he’s coaxing out of you. You’re overwhelmed (in the best way, of course) but you can’t stop yourself from cursing as the sensation intensifies, multiplies even.

It's not until your body starts to go limp that he finally takes pity on you. He slows down, his fingers pumping lazily inside you. “Good?”

“How did you—when did you—” you exhale a long breath. “I can’t feel my legs.”

He slowly withdraws his fingers out, only to rub your essence over your puffy clit, and your hips jerk once more before he finally stops. You're a trembling mess once you sink into the mattress.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you do that before.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that in my life.” Your eyes suddenly feel incredibly heavy that you can't resist letting them flutter close.

He kisses the tip of your nose. “Still up for another one?”

You peer through one eye, and when you catch him starting to undress himself, your other eye shoots open. The nod you give him is eager. His smile widens as he shrugs off his shirt, and you can’t help but let your gaze drop to the line of hair trailing down his stomach. You wonder what it would feel like under your tongue.

"Wait."

Your eyes snap back up to meet his. "What?"

His face twists into a grimace. “I don’t have a condom.”

Shit. Neither did you.

You roll onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow and resting your head in your hand. “And you’re realizing this just now?”

“I was too focused with you."

And by that, he means giving you the most intense orgasm of your life. You watch as his fingers hover over his belt. “You really didn’t think of bringing one when you decided to come over?”

“My intention coming here wasn’t exactly for this.”

“Well, it would be great if you at least considered the possibility." You study his face and blurt out the first thing on your mind, “I don’t want to stop.”

He shifts his weight on the bed. “Me neither.”

“I mean… we could have sex without using one. We’ve done it before. Once.”

He recalls what you're referring to and lets out an amused laugh. “Are you sure? Didn’t you freak out when you realized your period was late?”

“That was a coincidence! I was stressed out at that time, but I’m safe now—I think.” You pause, brows furrowing as you start calculating your cycle in your head. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m not ovulating.”

“Pretty sure?”

You give him a look. “No, I’m actually sure. I know my body, and I’ve done the math. See?” You gesture vaguely, as if the numbers and facts are floating in front of you. “No ovulation in sight.”

The corners of his mouth twitches into a smile. “Alright then,” he murmurs, and leans down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “No ovulation in sight.”

“None,” you confirm before tugging his belt. “Can you please take off your pants now?”

He complies—with incredible speed—and when he’s finally as naked as you, your mouth waters at the sight of him. His cock is painfully hard, thick, with a bead of arousal glistening at the tip. You try to reach for him, but he has other plans. He crawls over your body and slips between your legs. He then grips the back of your thigh with one hand, pulling it up slightly to open you to him, while the other holds himself from the base.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The moan you let out is lewd. “Fuck, Spencer.”

An airy laugh slips out from him as he rubs the head of his cock around your clit. “So needy.”

You wiggle your hips. “Hurry up.”

He only hums in response, before easing his hips back just enough to drag his swollen tip through your slick outer lips. The underside of his cock splits your folds open with each stroke, and your head is spinning. It’s almost sweet how he’s taking this slow, but at this point, you’re so close to just shoving him inside you. You let out a frustrated whine when he pulls back, only to thrust forward just enough for the head of his cock to nudge at your entrance.

Your walls squeeze around him.

“O-Oh…” His mouth falls open slightly as he stares down at where your bodies meet. “I… I don’t remember you being this tight.”

You follow his gaze, watching the way your outer lips swallow him inch by inch. “I-It’s been a while.”

He pushes further, and your nails dig into his shoulders as he stretches you in a way that feels almost too much, and you can't help but tense when he thrusts further. He wraps your leg around his waist before leaning down, propping his weight on his elbows.

“Need you to relax,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over the pulse fluttering wildly in your neck. You do as he says. Breathe in, breathe out. Clench, unclench. And then you feel him easing inside you, oh-so-deliciously slow, until you squeak out a gasp when he finally fills you completely.

Because fuck, he stretches you—wrenches you open, and you’re consumed by his heat, the pressure, the sheer size of him. It overwhelms your senses, and all you can do is sing out a filthy moan. He follows your tune with a melody of his own, though his voice trembles, sounding more like he’s in pain as if he’s trying to hold himself back.

“You’re so warm,” he groans, his breath hot against your skin. “You okay?”

You nod and wrap an arm around his shoulders. “More than okay.”

“Do you think I can move?”

“Please.”

There’s no hesitation in the way he pulls back, only to sink into you again. His hips roll against yours in a way that feels both achingly slow and unhurried, like he’s savoring every second to memorize the way you feel around him. It’s like he can’t quite believe this is happening, that you’re giving him the chance to be tangled up with you in this position again.

And truthfully, neither can you.

But here you are, two bodies moving in perfect harmony, intertwined in the most primal, human way. Flesh against flesh, breath against breath. Even your heartbeats sync in the same rhythm. The world beyond seems to dissolve, leaving nothing but the pull of desire that draws you deeper into the moment, into him, until the boundaries of where you end and he begins blur into something undefinable.

It’s nonexistent. You’re glued to him, fused in a way that feels as if this is exactly where you belong.

No more running away, you decide.

“Kiss me.”

He’s in no position to decline, and within a heartbeat, he captures your lips in the sweetest kiss—well, as sweet as it can go. Because even though he tastes like honeyed warmth, his hips continue to pound into you, hitting that deep, tender spot inside. You whine against his lips. A needy, breathless sound that has him faltering for just a second, his hips stuttering against yours.

“You feel so—” he chokes on his words. “God, you’re so perfect.”

You’re perfect, you want to say, but you stop yourself, biting down on the words before they escape. It’s not that you don’t believe it. You just can’t bring yourself to admit it out loud. Not yet. Instead, your need wins out, pushing past everything else.

“More,” you gasp between shallow breaths.

He rests his forehead against yours. “Yeah? You want me to go faster?”

You whine in approval.

The instant he pulls back, his tip barely teasing your entrance before slamming into you again, a sharp gasp escapes your lips. He repeats the motion. Once. Twice. By the third time, he doesn’t hold back, driving his hips hard and fast, the wet sound of your bodies slapping together echoing off the walls.

You turn into a putty mess. You can barely think, let alone form words, your mind clouded with nothing but the feeling of him—inside you, around you. Your whole world narrows down to this moment, to the way he fills you so perfectly. His forehead stays pressed against yours the whole time, his lips hovering above yours he murmurs, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

But it’s not. It’s everything. Maybe even not enough. “I…” you gasp when a certain angle from him hits a deep spot inside you. “Oh, Spencer… harder, p-please.”

He’s more than happy to oblige.

He shifts slightly, then snaps his hips forward with a sudden, forceful thrust. He repeats the motion. Over and over again. His pace is relentless now, and he starts to pant, his breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts, every exhale brushing against your lips. There’s a tension in his body, a taut strain in muscles, but he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. And you can’t help but moan softly into his mouth, swallowing each of his gasps as his control starts to slip away.

“Where do you want—” His voice falters. “Can I—inside—”

You nod frantically. “Yes. Yes.”

It’s enough to push you both over the edge.

The sensation starts as a gentle warmth in your fingertips, slowly winding its way through your body. It weaves through your limbs, spirals up your spine, before gathering intensely at your core. You’re shaking, trembling, and you instinctively reach out for something to ground yourself. One hand threads into his curls, the other clutches his jaw.

Then it happens. His cock moves in a frantic rhythm, sending you spiraling deeper into intense pleasure for the third time tonight. Your inner walls tighten around him as your orgasm crashes through you, gripping him so tightly that it pulls a raw, breathless groan from his lips. He slams into you with uneven thrusts as he presses your body flat onto the bed, until he stops and shudders, spilling hot, white liquid deep inside you.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt something this intense before—not even with him in the past. Every inch of your body is buzzing as his warmth spreads through you, reaching places you didn’t even know existed. You cling to him, your nails softly grazing his back as he finally lets out a satisfied hum, his lips moving to pepper kisses along your face.

He starts with your left cheek. Two gentle kisses. He moves to your right, giving a light peck that lingers just a moment longer, almost as if he’s blowing a warm breath against your skin. You giggle as the air tickles you. Then finally, he settles on your lips with a sigh that merges into a kiss. It’s soft, sweet, and tenderly slow.

You let out another laugh when he finally pulls away.

“What?”

His curls fall messily on his forehead and you reach up, brushing it back. “You’re starting to grow on me.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I grow on you?” You simply nod. “Like fungus?”

Your fingers pause in his hair. “Like what?”

"You know, fungus. It grows on things. Like mold or mushrooms,” he explains and gives you a smile. "Am I growing on you like that?"

You’ve been apart for so long that you almost forgot how his brain works. His unexpected comparison sparks your amusement, so you decide to humor him. “Depends on what kind of mushroom you are.”

He looks thoughtful for a while. “There's this mushroom called mycorrhiza. It forms a symbiotic relationship with trees and helps them grow by improving water and nutrient absorption."

“And that makes you what, exactly?”

“Essentially indispensable.”

“So you’re claiming you’re good for me?”

A slow, confident grin spreads across his lips. “I’m saying I’m exactly what you need.”

You burst out laughing. Your cheeks might actually ache from smiling this much. “That was pretty smooth.”

He looks incredibly pleased with himself. Then after a quiet moment, he buries his face in the curve of your neck. You close your eyes, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against yours, and a sigh escapes your lips. It’s like all the time you spent apart melts away in that single breath, and something inside you relaxes, as if he’s managed to sneak back into the parts of you you’d forgotten existed.

Maybe he is right. Maybe, after all this time, he’s exactly what you need.

You wake up to the sound of clatter. It’s loud, jarring, and it echoes around the house. You stir in bed, stretching your limbs before tensing when you feel something poking your back. Your hazy mind immediately snaps into alert, and you open your eyes fully, glancing toward the window. Sunlight is already pouring into the room, far too bright for how early you thought it was.

You quickly turn over to the other side.

“Spencer. Spencer!” you hiss, shaking his shoulders urgently. “Wake up! We overslept!”

He groans softly but doesn’t move. Another loud clatter bounces off the walls, and your heart pounds wildly in your chest.

“Spencer,” you whisper sharply, eyes widening. “I think Matt is home.”

That finally gets his attention. He blinks his eyes open. “Wha—?”

You’re already halfway out of bed, rushing to the window to peek through the curtains. Sure enough, you spot your brother’s car parked in the driveway. “Yep, he’s here,” you mutter under your breath, the panic rising as you turn back to Spencer. “And now he’s going to kill us.”

“He’s not going to kill us,” he mumbles, but even by his voice, you can tell he’s not entirely convinced. You watch as he finally slips out of bed, scrambling to pick up his clothes scattered across the floor. “We talked about this last night. It’s not going to be as bad as you think.”

You shoot him a look before quickly pulling on your own clothes.

“There’s a big difference between telling him, and him finding out that his sister is sleeping with his friend while he was away taking care of his wife and baby.” You yank your shirt over your head. “In his freaking house.”

When you put it that way, Spencer’s heart sinks a little. Although Matt isn’t a violent person, he has twice the muscle he does, and it’s not hard to imagine him being a lot less forgiving in a situation like this. He can’t help but picture the worst-case scenario even though Matt’s always been the reasonable type.

Until now, maybe.

“Do you think I should climb out the window?”

You stare at him in disbelief. "Spencer, you’re not sixteen.”

“Actually, I’ve never been in a situation like this,” he admits, pulling up his pants. “My biggest concern when I was sixteen was getting my first PhD.”

You forgot how ridiculously smart he is. Smarter than most people, definitely smarter than you. “Well now you’re getting firsthand experience.” You start pacing around the room. “Let’s just try to stay calm.”

“That’s kind of hard to do when your brother could walk in while I’m half-naked.”

You look at him in horror. “Then put your damn shirt on!"

Before he can reply, there's a noise from outside the room—a quick shuffle of steps, light and rapid, as if someone’s rushing down the hall. You barely have time to react before the door is wrenched open.

But it's not your brother.

It's far worse.

You feel your stomach drop when your eyes lands on the small figure of your nephew, standing there with wide eyes. His gaze shifts back and forth—from you, disheveled and clearly flustered, to Spencer, whose bare back is facing the door, still fumbling with his pants. From little Jake's point of view, it must look like the most confusing sight, because he quickly retreats, bolting down the hallway.

“Dad! Help! There’s a strange man in Auntie’s room!”

You don’t know whether to laugh or panic. The fact that Jake didn’t recognize Spencer without his usual suit is almost comical. You glance at him, noticing how his body has tensed, his back straightening in alarm.

“Who was that?” he whispers, turning to you with wide eyes.

"Jake.” You blow a strand of hair that falls across your face. “Who apparently thinks you're an intruder."

The blood seems to drain from his face. “He didn’t recognize me?”

Your eyes flick over his appearance—his wild, tangled hair sticking out in all directions, bare chest still slightly flushed from sleep, and pants barely zipped. “Not when you look like this, no.”

But before he can respond, you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway, heavier this time.

Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Shit.”

“I should have climbed out the window.”

The idea of him dangling from the window is even more absurd. You glance toward the door. "Okay, wait here. Let me talk to Matt first." Your eyes flicker to his bare chest again, and you let out the most exasperated sigh. "And please, for the love of God, put on your shirt."

You don’t have time to wait for his response as you rush out of the room, quickly closing the door behind you. You take a second to catch your breath, trying to compose yourself, when a noise down the hallway draws your attention. Only then do you notice Matt cautiously advancing towards your way, his back against the wall.

That’s when you spot the gun in his hand.

“Seriously?” you hiss, staring at him in disbelief. “What the hell, Matthew!”

He looks at you, equally surprised. “Jake said there was a strange man in your room!” he replies defensively, tightening his grip on the weapon. “What was I supposed to think?“

Your eyes shift toward your nephew, who’s peeking around the corner, his little head barely visible as he watches the scene unfold. This is definitely not how you expected your morning to go. A simple, awkward conversation was one thing, but having to disarm your brother while explaining this mess was an entirely different level.

“There’s no intruder, Matt. Put the gun down.”

He looks past you, his eyes zeroing in on the closed bedroom door. “Then who’s in there?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. There’s no easy way to explain this. How do you even start? That Spencer is standing half-naked in the guest room, trying to gather his dignity after being mistaken for an intruder by a six-year-old? You never thought you'd have to introduce Spencer to your brother this way, in his own house, under these chaotic circumstances.

You can feel Matt's eyes boring into you, waiting for an answer. All you can think is how ridiculous this all must look, and how there's no good way to smooth over the fact that, yes, Spencer Reid, his friend slash teammate, is behind the door. And the most absurd part? A part of you is more worried about the look on Matt's face than the fact that he's holding a gun.

“Please don’t be mad.”

You hold your breath as you slowly reach for the doorknob. You push the door open and let out a small, relieved sound when you see Spencer fully dressed, looking almost presentable, except for the wild hair that refuses to settle. He gives you a small nod before stepping out of the room.

“Uncle Spencer?” Jake’s small voice cuts through the tension. Matt’s gaze darts between you two, his jaw tightening as he puts the pieces together. You can see the moment realization hits him full force.

“Reid?” Matt’s voice is incredulous, bordering on betrayed. “What the hell is going on?”

“I can explain,” you say cautiously. “It’s not exactly how it looks.”

“Not exactly how it looks?” Matt echoes, his eyes narrowing at you, then shifting back to Spencer. “You’re in my guest room looking like you just rolled out of bed—”

“Fully clothed now,” Spencer cuts in quickly, which only earns him a frown from Matt.

“Not helping,” you mutter under your breath, shooting Spencer a look before turning back to your brother. “Fine, it’s exactly how it looks like. So… uh, surprise?”

You watch so many emotions flashing in his eyes. Matt’s always been a good brother. Sometimes annoying, but always reliable. He doesn’t usually get angry at you—quite the opposite, actually. He’s calm, level-headed, and more prone to offering advice than raising his voice. But now? The frustration is clear in his eyes.

He’s not mad exactly, but he’s definitely not happy either.

“Surprise?” Matt repeats, his voice flat. His gaze flick back to Spencer, who’s now shifting his weight awkwardly beside you. “This is how you decided to tell me?”

“Okay, it’s not how we planned it, obviously.”

“Clearly,” he deadpans.

You put on the best, innocent-looking face you can muster.

“Maaatttt,” you try again, deciding to use a different approach by being cute this time. “Don’t be so harsh.”

To your relief, it actually works on him, like it usually does whenever you try to charm your way out of trouble. His tough exterior falters because, no matter what, you’re still his baby sister. His face softens for a moment, shoulders dropping as he lets out a sigh.

“I’m not mad, okay? But I am your brother. And you,” he adds, pointing at Spencer. “You’re supposed to be my friend. I feel like I should’ve known about this before… well, before finding you like this.” Your shoulders slumps at his words. “How long has this been going?”

Now that is a tricky question. Explaining that you and Spencer occasionally had sex five years ago definitely isn’t something your brother needs to hear right now—or ever, really. You can almost feel Spencer tense beside you, probably having the same thought.

You clear your throat. “Last night.”

"Last night?" Matt looks at you as if you’re crazy. It might be the most disapproving look he’s ever given to you. "You're telling me this just started last night?"

"But—" you quickly add, holding up a hand to stop his train of thought. "We’ve been talking for a while, it’s not like it happened out of nowhere. Last night was just the first time we decided to actually do something about it."

“Right under my roof?” Matt’s brows pinches upward. “You lied about having a headache, didn’t you?”

“Wait, you had a headache? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You’re not sure you can handle two men pestering you at the same time. You focus on your brother instead.

“Look, we didn’t plan anything yesterday. Things just… happened,” you say, trying to explain without making it sound worse than it already does. “But it’s not only about last night. For what it’s worth, we were planning to tell to you. Just not like this.”

Your brother cocks an eyebrow. “So this isn’t a one-time thing?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “God, no,” he says. You feel an arm snake around your waist. “I care about her. A lot.”

Matt stares at Spencer for a long moment, his face a mixture of frustration, concern, and something else. Acceptance, maybe. He looks back at you. “Is this what you want?”

You feel Spencer’s grip tighten on your waist. He’s also waiting for your answer.

“It’s what I want.”

Spencer’s thumb brushes over you as Matt lets out a long breath, his grip on the gun finally relaxing. “This feels weird.”

“In a good way?”

“In a bizarre kind of way.” Matt’s falls falls on Spencer again. “I’m still trying to process this, but if you hurt her—”

“I won’t,” Spencer promises. “I swear.”

“Good, because you know I can put you back to prison if you do.”

Oh, he knows. Spencer understands exactly what he means, after all, Matt was one of the few people who helped clear his name during one of the most horrific moments of his life. Even if there’s a slight jab in his words, Spencer can tell he’s being dead serious. Especially with that gun still attached to his grip.

You, on the other hand, are hearing this for the first time. “Wait, what?” you blurt out. “Prison? You went to prison?”

Spencer merely shrug. Matt finally lowers his weapon, shaking his head as if he can’t quite believe this is happening. “I need coffee,” he mutters, turning toward the kitchen.

“Wait…” Jake finally peeks out from behind the wall. You blink your eyes, forgetting he’s even there. “Does this mean Uncle Spencer is your boyfriend now?”

You feel three pair of eyes on you. Matt’s gaze is sharp. Spencer’s expression is cautious. And then there’s Jake, looking up at you with the straightforward curiosity only a child can have. To him, things are simple. Either you are, or you aren’t, and in hindsight, it really is a straightforward question. But nothing about this situation has been straightforward.

You look at Spencer for a fraction of a second. You can see the nervous hope reflected in his eyes. Maybe Jake’s question isn’t just his… maybe it’s Spencer’s too.

And sure, maybe it doesn’t have to be so complicated. Maybe it really is as simple as saying—

“Yes.” You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. “I suppose he is.”

If you’ve ever seen Spencer being happy, it pales in comparison to this. His eyes light up, and he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. A genuine, almost boyish smile spreads across his face as you feel his warmth seep into your skin. There’s so much affection in his gaze it makes your chest tighten. He’s not just happy. He’s beaming.

Matt clears his throat awkwardly. “Come on, kiddo, let’s grab what your mom needs and get back to the hospital.” He glances back at you. “You guys coming?”

You nod absentmindedly. “Sure.”

He throws you both a look. Not hateful, but definitely not warm either. You see him grip his gun from the corner of your eye, more out of habit than necessity, before steering his son away with a firm hand on his shoulders.

“That went better than expected,” Spencer mutters the moment your brother is out of earshot.

“‘It’s not going to be as bad as you think’,” you mock, reciting the words he said to you half an hour ago.

“It wasn’t.”

“Spencer, he held a gun.”

“He thought I was an intruder. I would’ve done the same thing,” he points out, his tone surprisingly calm as he holds you by your waist. “Relax, okay? He’ll come around us. Eventually.”

“You’re awfully optimistic about this.”

“He likes me.”

He does have a point. Matt has always had a soft spot for Spencer, but you’re not sure how far that can go after what just happened. “I think you might have lost a few brownie points today.”

He considers the truth in your words. “Maybe,” he admits with a shrug. “But at least I earned a few with you.”

“Because of the boyfriend thing?” He’s grinning so wide that his eyes practically disappear into crescent moons. You poke the slightest dimple on his cheek. “Don’t act so smug. I’m still trying to process the fact that I’m dating an ex-felon.”

“I was framed,” he explains, and the way he says it so nonchalantly only deepens your confusion. He tries to smooth your frown with a kiss. “I’ll tell you everything on our first date.��

“Who said I’ll go on a date with you?”

“You will,” he simply says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“And what makes you so sure?”

Because he’s always been sure. The man who doubts everything, who overanalyzes every situation, looks at you with a certainty that makes your heart swell. You’ve seen that look before—the one that says he’s considered every possible outcome and decided this is the one that matters most. There’s something magnetic about it, the way he seems to know exactly what he wants, and right now, it’s you.

“Because I’m your mushroom.”

He’s so silly, yet there’s something so perfectly Spencer about it that makes the idea of not going on a date with him feel impossible. You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter, but the warmth in your chest tells you he’s already won your heart.

And you don’t mind him keeping it.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #Fanfiction #gifwriting

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mickyschumacher · 4 months ago

Text

𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: they say you should learn something new every day. in oscar's case, it's a double-edged sword. today, he learns he is also really thankful for not reading the fine prints. or in which oscar's secret santa gift hits the both of you for the second time. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), unprotected sex (protect yourselves!) shower sex, blowjob, asking to go raw, p in v, teasing, oral sex, mutual orgasms, cumming outside, still an (over)consumption of aphrodisiacs

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: oscar piastri x gf!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: as usual, proofread-ish. for the people who wanted a part 2 and for the person who said they wouldn't be disappointed bc i was nervous about making one (🥹 ily, you're a real one)... hope you like it! ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

"I think we're going to have to thank Daniel," you joked, finally regaining your words.

"Later," Oscar sucked in a sharp breath. "Like three hours later."

You furrowed your brows, looking up at Oscar, only for him to be looking down. Following his gaze, your eyes honed in on the object capturing both of your attention.

"Oh..." you pursed your lips.

God, were these chocolates living up to their name.

Oscar tucked your hair behind your ears, fingers dancing across your skin. "What did you dream about?"

You blinked blankly before mending your brows as the sudden question. "I–what? What do you mean?" You asked, peering up at him with confusion.

"Your dream earlier on. I didn't get to ask. What was it about?"

All of a sudden your throat felt like a desert; so so dry. There was something almost unsettling about the cheeky glint in those brown eyes watching you. You let out a small sigh, suppressing your eye roll. "Well, first, we were in the shower–"

"In the shower?" Oscar repeated with raised eyebrows and an amused smile.

Your hand stretched out to hit him lightly. "Yes, you idiot. The shower," you sighed yet again before continuing, "well, it was initially sweet. We were doing the usual, shampoo, soap, water fights, and what not. And then you, acting like some sort of horny monster, decided it would be fun to eat me out against the wall."

"And then?" Oscar queried quietly, hand gently gliding down the curve of your body.

You cleared your throat, trying to keep on track. "Um, then I returned the favour," you shrugged timidly, feeling goosebumps litter your skin, trailing after his touch.

Oscar grinned. "Returned the favour?" He repeated, losing himself to his own thoughts as he spoke. "You sucked my cock? How?"

You almost choked on your spit. "W-What? What do you mean 'how?'"

"How did you do it? Did you start from the tip like you usually do? Or did you start from the bottom, grazing your teeth all the way up?"

You sucked in a sharp breath. "I... I started from the tip. I know how you like it. Special attention to the slit and to the bottom. All down my throat. Till you could see the small little bulge in my throat. And then I swallowed every single drop."

Oscar swallowed his saliva. You met those puppy eyes, yet again surprised at the desperation swirling around, drowning him.

He watched you tilt your head almost innocently. "Why?" Swollen lips jutted out, face still flushed and riddled with sweat from the previous round. "Want it to come true?"

A groan fell from Oscar's lips, eyes shutting for a second. "God, yes."

Wordlessly, you observed him quickly remove himself from your grasp, moving his hands under your body, lifting you up into the air. You let out a squeal, waves of cold air hitting your warm body. "Osc!"

"I'm trying to hurry!" You heard him yell as you watched the carpet of your bedroom suddenly turn into the tiles of your bathroom. You felt Oscar place you gently down onto the shower floor, pulling the handle.

You let out a yelp at the intrusion of cold water across your skin. "Oscar, that's fucking freezing!" Ready to take a leap out of the bathroom.

You peeked an eye open at the boy who was simply smiling at you as the water pelted down on your bodies. "I guess I'll just have to warm you up in the first place."

Before you knew it, Oscar's lips were back on yours as though they had never disappeared. Your hands fell to his neck, while his wet hands encircled your waist, bringing you as close as he could. He kissed you with an indescribable sense of urgency, nipping away at your lips.

You gasped at the sheer force of the kiss, allowing him to take advantage of the open access, darting his tongue into your mouth. Your muffled moans filled his ears and long gone were the worries of the cold. Only warmth burned through the both of you.

The sloppy meeting of your lips, the occasional clang of your teeth, or the pure suction of need set you alight. Oscar groaned, a shiver running through his spine at the feel of your hand roaming his hair.

To be honest, it was difficult to see with the now slightly warm water coming down. But even then, Oscar could see it clear as day. The way your eyes sparkled looking up at him and the way your lips glided down his bare neck, trailing his chest before resting at his v-line, knees pressed on the floor... fuck, he was dreaming.

Out of your peripheral, you could see Oscar's muscles tense as you gathered the saliva in your mouth, spitting the lube down onto his cock. The low exhale from his lips made you smile momentarily.

"I'm gonna make you feel so so good, okay?"

Before he could even respond, your hot breath washed over his cock, making him twitch. Oscar's head fell back on the shower wall, feeling your hot tongue lick the tip of his dick, paying special attention to his slit. "Oh shit," he moaned, entirely lost.

His arms travelled to your wet hair, wrapping the strands tightly around the surface of his hands, guiding your head with the little control he could muster. Oscar's teeth sunk into his lip upon the twirl of your tongue and the light graze of your own teeth against his tip. "F-Fuck," he croaked, "you're so good, baby."

You hummed in response, savouring the salty taste of his precum before opening your throat a little more to take his cock fully. You feel him poorly guide his cock into the tighter tunnel, the action bombarded with a string of moans from his mouth.

Your thighs clenched at the sounds, all your arousal mixed with the falling warm droplets. You could tell he was close by the way his hips began to move as though he was in a chase. You could only help further by sucking him even harder.

Oscar blinked away the water, eyes falling down to your throat, knees almost buckling at the sight of the same little bulge in your throat. Furthermore, the sinking of your nails in his thighs.... fuck... it was another sort of cruelty waiting to be released. Closing his eyes, he cursed with a senseless yet ravenous moan, feeling the coil in his stomach began to unravel.

Suddenly Oscar's eyes shot open. His hips stopped moving. You peered up with raised brows, wondering why on earth he was edging himself as he pulled you up to meet you face-to-face.

"That is not how the dream went," you lightly chided, hitting his chest lightly.

Oscar braved a small smile, chest heaving with a crazed adrenaline as he caught your arm. His free hand brushed your wet face. "I love your dream, I really do," he said with an emphasised look down below. "But I need to be in you again."

You crumbled at the last word. The crack of his voice was laced with whatever plant or fruit you had both over consumed. He was so so needy. The pleading eyes, his aching cock begging for a release, his hands eagerly travelling across your body.

"What about the condom?" Your whisper was just heard over the water.

Oscar sucked in a sharp breath, mouth feeling dry all of a sudden. "I... can we go raw?"

You pursed your lips. Raw... you had thought of the idea more times than you'd like to admit. Obviously, a baby with Oscar wasn't something you were considering at the moment. You had discussed this, hence the condoms. And sure there was birth control, but the list of side effects was never-ending. Plus, you were never good with remembering pills anyways.

You weren't quite sure whether it was the aphrodisiacs or you, probably a mix of both. But you couldn't quite seem to get the idea of really feeling his cock for the first time out of your head.

This whole thing was already reckless and crazy as it was. What was a little more?

"Obviously, if you don't want to–" Oscar started, fumbling over his words urgently.

"Yes."

"–it's up to you because I respect your choice–"

"Osc, yes."

"Hmm?" Oscar blinked, finally registering what you were saying. His brown eyes widened before a smile washed onto his face. "Yeah? I mean I didn't really imagine it happening in the shower but... I was thinking something a bit more romantic."

You chuckled softly. "Well, I never thought we'd be drugged up on chocolates from your friend and yet, here we are..."

Oscar grinned, swiftly bringing his lips to yours. Your hands flung to his face, bringing him closer to you as his hands travelled down the sides of your body, every curve and crevice committed to memory.

His grin deepened further at the sound of your breath hitching. His fingers inched closer to your hips, aligning your body to him. He let out a slow exhale, cock painfully waiting to feel you.

Briefly, Oscar's eyes flickered back to your face. Thumb nudging you to look at him. "If anything feels wrong and I mean anything–"

"I'll tell you. Promise," you smiled softly, giving him a long kiss.

Oscar smiled in return, holding your gaze with the intention to capture this moment entirely as he slowly rubbed the tip of his cock against your engorged pussy. He could hear your soft whimpers through the droplets of water. A rippling tremble rumbled through his body while he pushed his cock into you, letting your wet arousal soak him entirely.

Oscar had never been so happy to capture your reaction. The inevitable parting of your lips, the silent gasp, the crease between your brows, the tightening of your walls against his cock... fuck, it drove him crazy.

"You okay, baby?" He asked with a shallow breath. The nod of your head green-lit him to fully bury his cock into your pussy, allowing you to feel every full inch of him, raw.

A small burn travelled through you. Oscar was stretching you out like never before. You felt so full. Fuck.

"Osc, please move.'

The plead from your swollen lips was so desperate. Like you were about to fall apart.

"Oh my God," Oscar groaned against your wet skin, fingers tightening around your hips as your words replayed in his head. His hips began to snap into you, rutting his aching cock into your warm walls. Fuck, you were gripping his cock so tight... he could've sworn he'd cry if he wasn't so fixated on the way you felt.

His hooded brown eyes couldn't help but watch his cock come in and out of your throbbing pussy, shit, you were creaming all around him. He could feel the coldness of the shower wall touch his back as he brought you even closer, drilling his cock further into you. His lips moved towards your nipple, tongue twirling around in circles as your pants filled the moist air.

"Oh fuck!" you cried, hands reaching out to grab his shoulders–anything.

You could've sworn the sounds of your skin slapping against his was echoing throughout your house. Even over the water, it rebounded of the walls, melding in with your lewd moans and the obscene squelch of your pussy craving more and more of Oscar's cock. You had never felt anything quite it.

You could feel Oscar's hand move from your hips, inching down your v-line to meet your clit. A shudder ripped through your body as he thumbed the sensitive nerves in slow circles.

"Come on, baby," Oscar encouraged, lips sloppily meeting yours. His moans were getting beyond desperate, hips beginning to pick up their pace. "Show me how good you feel, hmm? Cum for me."

Your mouth fell open as a crash of white began to take over your eyes. The water began to blur with the waves of your orgasm hitting you one after another. Your body was shaking in his hands, your own hips bucking to ride out the high for as long as you could.

Your pussy was so fucking tight, gripping him like a vice. Oscar let out a throat groan as he fought to open his eyes. He rushed to take his cock out of your folds, as much as it pained him. "Fuck, f-fuck, open your mouth, baby," he urged, own hand sliding up and down his cock.

Oscar moaned at the sight of you on your knees, pretty lips and tongue all open for him. His hips stuttered against his hand as ropes of his hot cum spilled onto your tongue. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! Yes, fuck, take it, baby. Take my cum!"

A sigh flew out of his mouth as he slowed down and the waves of his climax came to an end. Oscar softly groaned at the sight of you, bending down to kiss you. The salty taste of his cum mixed with your arousal... fuck, he loved it.

Gently, he brought you up to meet his eyes once again. Your chests both heaved in an attempt to regain your breath.

You were thankful Oscar was holding you against him: you're legs felt like jelly.

"Can you walk tomorrow?" Oscar teased, pushing your wet hair behind your ears.

You rolled your eyes, hitting his chest lightly. "You're an asshole."

Oscar chuckled softly, pressing a small kiss to the side of your head. He sighed once again, hands rubbing your back soothingly as the silence was filled with the running water. "I love you," he whispered against your skin, "Thank you for trusting me with this."

You smiled, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "I loved every second of it, baby. And for the record, it was very romantic."

"And hot?" Oscar raised a brow, a small grin playing on his face.

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes again. "Are you going to thank Daniel?"

Oscar pursed his lips at your words. "Absolutely not."

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #op81

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roosterforme · 6 months ago

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 9 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley never felt like this before in his life. As soon as he spent a few minutes in your presence, he needed to keep coming back for more. Your touch and your voice were already making this homecoming something he was hoping to repeat, and he decided to keep pressing his luck.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley getting handsy

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley promised he would pick you up in an hour. That gave you essentially no time to get yourself ready to go out. At least you didn't have those typical first date jitters, because you and he had already taken the time to slowly get to know each other over the past few months. All of the emails from him that you'd archived into their own folder in your inbox felt precious now that he was home. Now that he surprised you at work. Knowing what he felt like and seeing the way he moved in person seemed to be the only missing pieces, and now everything fit perfectly in your mind when it came to Bradley Bradshaw.

While you weren't nervous about getting to know someone new, you were a little antsy about trying to make yourself look as nice as you could in an hour. After you'd worked all day. For your first date with a man you already couldn't get enough of. He reminded you that he wanted to take you to the beach, as if you could forget the splendid details he'd divulged over the phone a month ago.

He told you he was going to wear jeans, nothing fancy, but when you looked in your closet, everything seemed tragically terrible. You could practically feel time ticking away as you yanked a simple sundress from its hanger and pulled it on over your cute underwear set. Not that he was going to see that tonight, but it made you feel good regardless. It also made your skin feel flushed as you thought about the photo you'd sent him where you'd gone topless under your bedding, and you squeaked when you heard knocking on your door.

When you pulled it open, he was there, like a dream. Earlier in your classroom, when he interacted with your students, it felt like you had imagined the whole thing. But nothing felt as real as the warmth in his voice when he softly said, "Hey, Gorgeous," as he filled your doorway with his broad shoulders.

"Hi, Handsome," you replied, even as he leaned in closer until your lips were met with a kiss as sweet as the ones he treated you to earlier. He seemed to be taking your desire to be kissed as soon as he saw you to heart. Either that or he just couldn't help himself, and you were more than okay with either scenario.

Your fingers ghosted along the buttons of the loud tropical print shirt he was wearing. The fabric was soft as he deepened the kiss enough to let you feel his rough mustache against your skin before pulling away. All of the teasing kisses from a few hours ago made you want to pull him inside toward your couch, but he was already reaching for your hand.

He looked a little tired, and once again you got butterflies knowing he wanted to spend his first evening home from a very long deployment with you. As he smiled and wrapped his big hand around yours, he asked, "You ready for me to show you why deleting that dating app was the best decision you'll make all year?"

Your lips parted in soft surprise at his confidence and his little smirk. Granted, so far, he had no reason to behave otherwise. You let him guide you outside, and you locked your door as you said, "I thought getting my students to send mail to a deployed Naval aviator was my best decision?"

He hummed softly. "Seems as though you can do no wrong."

It was like floating on a cloud, having his attention and gaze fixed on you. How in the world this man wasn't already locked down was mystifying. As his rough thumb trailed back and forth across your knuckles, the butterflies started up again in a big way. It was actually happening. The first date that you'd been daydreaming about on repeat was here. He was following through with it, and now you were expected to act normal.

When he unlocked the door and helped you climb up into his insanely cool truck, he said, "It looks like you can't stop smiling, which is great, because it's a beautiful smile."

You laughed softly and covered your eyes before groaning softly. "I'm just still kind of in shock." You peeked at him from between your fingers. "When I woke up this morning, I was convinced something terrible had happened to you... or that you ghosted me."

Bradley looked truly concerned as he coaxed your hands away from your face and said, "Baby, you thought I ghosted you?"

You gave him a little shrug and said, "The thought crossed my mind. I know you said sometimes they shut off communication from the aircraft carrier when-"

He silenced you with his lips on yours, cupping your cheek with his big hand before breaking away to say, "I've been thinking about you since I unfolded the first letter you sent. And I've been thinking about today since you gave me your personal email address. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm definitely not going to ghost you, Gorgeous." Just as you felt embarrassed for having admitted that much to him, he kissed you again and said, "I want to get you Thai food and take you to the beach. It only took me thirty-seven minutes to get here in traffic, and it should be even shorter now. Since we're going to be doing this drive with frequency, I want to learn the best times for it."

You made a soft sound as his thumb continued to stroke your cheek, and you nodded as you said, "Let's do it."

-----------------------------

Bradley laced his fingers with yours as he drove down along the coast back to Coronado. The time it took to get to your place was really no big deal to him, but he didn't want it to seem insurmountable to you. Traffic in San Diego could be a nightmare at times, especially in the evening, and he didn't want you to think he wasn't more than willing to do this. Especially after you thought he may have ghosted you. And especially since he was planning on asking you to be his girlfriend.

You and your students got him through his deployment in a way nothing else ever quite had before. Your letters and emails were informative, funny and thoughtful, and you had this addictively subtle way of always letting him know he was on your mind. After months with Vanessa, all he got was a bad attitude, a partner who clearly wasn't invested, and an email about a water bottle.

You were singing along to a song he happened to love when he chuckled to himself as he changed lanes. "What's so funny?" you asked, giving his hand a little squeeze. "My singing voice isn't that bad."

"Your singing voice isn't even slightly bad," he replied easily, glancing at your face in profile as you smiled. "I was just thinking about my ex-girlfriend."

"Oh," you said as your smile vanished, and your hold on his hand loosened.

"Shit," he grunted. "Not like that," he promised, tugging on you gently while trying to focus on the road. "You and I had exchanged more emails halfway through my deployment than Vanessa and I did in seven months. And I'm hoping you'll keep emailing with me on occasion, even though we can text and talk on the phone right now, too. I associate my inbox with you now."

"Vanessa?" you asked, avoiding the rest of his statement. "Isn't that the name of Jayden's dog?"

Bradley nodded. "It sure is," he replied with a laugh. "One of the reasons I always liked his notes the best."

You were looking out your window now as the pretty coastline started to give way to a view of North Island across the bay. "I'll keep emailing you. How could I not? Texts and phone calls would be a bonus."

"I told you, you're going to get sick of me soon, Gorgeous. That's how many of my texts and phone calls you're about to be on the receiving end of." Bradley kissed your fingers as he turned to cross the bridge that led to Coronado, and he murmured, "Start thinking about what you want to eat for dinner. We're almost there."

He would erase all doubts about him from your mind. Your hand already felt like it belonged in his as you and he walked into the takeout restaurant while you listed off some of your Thai favorites. The two of you seemed to translate well from interacting through screens to physically being together, and the fact that he already wanted to put a label on this was a bit surprising to him. But there was still a lot he wanted to ask you about and tell you first, which was proving difficult when you looked up at him with bright eyes as a beautiful smile. He practically blurted out the world girlfriend as you told him you couldn't decide what you wanted to eat.

"What are you getting?" you asked. "I'm torn between Pad Thai, Yellow Curry and Tom Yum Goong."

"Let's get all three," he replied before kissing you.

When he pulled away, your eyes were still closed as you asked, "All three? I can only finish one."

"Yeah, we can share them," he whispered, kissing you softly again. "My appetite is huge." When the person who was working at the counter had to clear their throat to keep Bradley from pulling you closer to his body like he had earlier in your classroom, he begrudgingly ordered not three, but four entrees while you laughed.

"You weren't kidding," you mused as he paid for dinner.

"Listen," he told you as he put his credit card away. "There are three things I'm never going to joke about. Food is the first one. My mom always made me clean my plate, and I never outgrew that. If I'm willing to eat two servings of dinner from an aircraft carrier mess hall, then I'm probably going to eat at least that much if it's food that actually tastes good. And second, if I say there's a spider and that I need you to come quick, there is absolutely a spider that I need you to take care of for me." You laughed and bit your lip as he said, "And third, I'm never going to joke about how attracted I am to everything about you."

Bradley tried his best not to cause a scene in the small restaurant, but when you ran your fingers along the scars on his face and up into his hair, his hands found their way to your hips, and your body was snug against his. He didn't say another word, and you didn't either. Neither of you moved any closer for a kiss. You just brushed your fingers gently through his hair, occasionally tugging a little bit, and he thought he could lose his mind this way. With you smiling softly at him, silently and unknowingly showing him that your touch was uniquely something he'd been craving for so long.

"I'll take care of the spiders for you. Don't worry," you told him as you grinned.

"Baby, that's like dirty talk," he replied, his words making him think of that one photo you sent to him of you in bed. You dipped your head, trying to hide from him as you laughed, and he leaned in to kiss your jaw just as his name was called. "You ready for dinner?" he mumbled, knowing he was about five minutes away from his stomach growling loudly even though standing here with you was one of the nicest feelings in his recent memory.

"Let's get you fed," you told him, patting his firm stomach and accidentally snagging one of his belt loops with your finger. He had to bite the inside of his cheek against the growing need he felt for you as you reached out to grab the bag of food, and he followed you back out to his Bronco like a lost puppy.

----------------------------

After some debate about where you wanted to sit since the wind was starting to pick up, you chose a blanket on the sand over the back of his Bronco. You honestly weren't sure Bradley could even fit back there comfortably with you. He was so tall and broad, and his legs were so long, you'd practically have to be on top of him so he'd have room. Your mind wandered to the idea of him spilling off of his couch while you snuggled with him, and you could feel the warmth rising in your face as he helped you down onto the sandy asphalt of the parking lot.

With your hand in his, Bradley led you around to the back door where he pulled out a picnic blanket and a cooler. The wind picked up and you shivered a bit, wondering if he would let you curl up against his warm chest and his tropical shirt.

"I brought this just in case," he told you, turning to reach back inside and grab a well worn, gray sweatshirt that said TOP GUN across the front. He held it up, and you nodded, and then Bradley pulled it over your head for you, his fingers skimming down your sides as you pushed your arms through the sleeves.

"Thanks," you murmured as the oversized garment kind of swallowed you up. It was so soft over your sundress, you couldn't imagine ever wanting to take it off. And the look Bradley was giving you as you stood before him in it warmed you up as much as the shirt itself.

"I like the way that looks," he said, voice a little raspy as the wind pushed at his wavy hair.

"Bradley."

He shook his head, brown eyes fixed on you. "And I like the way that sounds."

You didn't need to eat anything. You could be sustained on making out in the backseat. You thought about telling him as much when he groaned softly, handed you the beach blanket and picked up everything else. "If we don't get settled, we'll miss the sunset, and the food will be cold."

He pressed one hot and heavy kiss to your lips before nudging the door shut with his hip, and you scampered after his long-legged gait to catch up with him. When he asked you to pick a spot for the blanket, you spread it out near some tall dune grass, away from some of the other couples who seemed to have been lured out by the promise of a pretty sunset. And just as you predicted, Bradley sprawled himself out and took up most of the space, leaving you sitting right at his side.

You helped him open up the containers of food and the disposable utensils, and then you watched him reach into the cooler and hold up a bottle of Prosecco and a bottle of a local craft beer. You pointed to the Prosecco, and he opened it for you as you said, "I know you told me you don't have much family, but you mentioned your mom? And how she always made you clean your plate?" You couldn't help but be curious, especially since you'd already told him a bit about your own family through email.

"Yeah," he replied evenly as you took a sip of Prosecco right from the bottle when he didn't hand you a cup. It was sweet and cold, but you almost choked on it when he said, "She died years ago. So did my old man. He was in the Navy, too."

"Bradley," you gasped, sloshing some of the wine onto your fingers as you tried not to drop the bottle. "I'm so sorry." He just shrugged and waved you off, but you ended up with your arms around his neck and the cold bottle pressed to his back as you whispered, "Is that why you didn't really have anyone writing to you other than me and my class?"

His big hand found your lower back through the sweatshirt. "Baby, the only other person who ever writes to me is my best friend, and even that is pretty sporadic."

You pulled away a little bit to meet his eyes as you asked, "What about Vanessa? The human, not the dog."

Bradley laughed and said, "The dog would make a better pen pal than the human. Probably be nicer to me, too."

You were completely taken aback. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He kissed your cheek before getting you settled at his side again, and you watched him scoop some noodles onto his fork. "Means she's not like you. And I'm going to try my best to prove that I'm not like your ex boyfriend who didn't like it when you talked about your job. Shouldn't be hard since I already think your kids are so cool, and I probably read at about a fourth grade level."

"Bradley," you balked as you laughed that he remembered what you told him about your ex, but he was already holding the food out to you.

"Try this and tell me what you think." You took the fork from his hand, tasted the dinner and moaned in appreciation. "It's pretty great, right?"

"Oh my goodness," you told him, digging the fork into the container for more. "It's even better than the place by my school."

You tried the curry next as the sun just about hit the horizon, and Bradley casually said, "We can do this all the time. Or I can surprise you with dinner after work."

"It's not a surprise if you tell me that," you told him before taking another sip of the wine.

"You don't like surprises," he said with a smile, and you realized for the second time tonight that he probably remembered everything you ever told him. The butterflies were back in full force as you and he chatted while you shared the meal. It wasn't like a first date at all. It was like some highly romantic reunion where he kissed you with a bit more frequency as the food containers ended up empty and the sky turned purple.

He was so warm as you snuggled up against his chest with your head on his shoulder. As the first few stars appeared in the clear sky, his big hand came to rest on your thigh, his fingers dipping inside the hem of your dress as the breeze made you cuddle even closer to him. "Was your last mission dangerous?" you asked, remembering how apprehensive he looked and sounded over the FaceTime call.

When he didn't respond right away, you thought perhaps he didn't hear you, but he squeezed your thigh and cleared his throat. "All of them are, Gorgeous."

Your heart clenched. You had him here with you after months of wishing and dreaming. You didn't want to seem pushy by asking, but you couldn't help yourself. "I never thought about what it would be like to... be with someone who deploys for work. Not until we started talking. But now I think about it a lot." His soft grunt next to your ear had you quickly asking, "Is that what it would be like? Always worrying if you're okay? Always wondering if you miss me as much as I miss you?"

He took your breath away as he kissed you, parting your lips with his and tasting your tongue. His lips were sweet from the wine, and his nose bumped yours as his big hand slid around to the back of your thigh. All you could do was hold onto him as he treated you to kiss after toe-curling kiss. You shamelessly moaned his name when he finally let you take a breath, but then he was right back on you. Your fingernails scraped softly along his faded scars before digging into his hair, and he broke the kiss and held you to him.

"You would never have to worry about the last bit. I would make sure of that. But yeah, Baby, the rest of it would kind of suck."

The only thing you could say was, "Bradley," as his eyes searched your face in the darkening evening light.

"I would have been miserable," he whispered. "If you never sent that first package, I would have had nothing to look forward to each day and nothing I was excited to come back to San Diego for." His voice was impossibly deep and alluring as he said, "I thought about that a lot. What if you never sent it? Or what if someone else got it instead of me? What if I didn't somehow manage to earn your attention? I don't like thinking about that. And I don't like the idea of you worrying about me even though, at the same time, it feels really fucking good knowing that you would."

You were melting. You were going to turn into a puddle for this man. This lonely man who had an ex who hadn't been nice to him and never emailed him enough. This man who cleared his calendar today to bring you flowers and visit your kids as soon as he got off of the aircraft carrier. You wanted to say so much as you pushed gently on his shoulders, and Bradley slowly leaned back until he was laying flat with you on top of him.

"Gorgeous," he crooned in the moonlight with the sound of the ocean behind you and his big hands on your thighs.

You pushed his hair back from his forehead and whispered, "You just got back today, and you gave all of your time to me."

His cheek was warm and rough with some stubble as your lips found his scars. You kissed them just like you told him you wanted to as he said, "It was just me being selfish. I wanted to be around you so badly. I'm already dying for more. Please go out with me again tomorrow?"

It took you all of a split second to agree. And maybe you were being selfish too, but you weren't prepared for the way your heart was racing in time with the butterflies. And how warm his big hands were as they inched up your legs while you tasted his tongue. And how much you knew you were going to want him to stay when it was time to say goodnight.

---------------------------

Your hands were all over his face and shoulders and in his hair, and Bradley was nothing short of delighted by this. Your lips drifted from his mouth down to his chin, and he had to try very hard to focus as they grazed his Adam's apple. He had your apartment keys in his hand, with which he was also squeezing your hip though his sweatshirt. It felt serendipitous that he was the one who got your letters, especially since he went from halfway in love with you to most of the way there after one day in your presence.

"Baby, you need to go inside," he warned, but something in his tone of voice just had you clinging tighter to him. "I need you to go inside."

You broke free from where your lips ended up on the side of his neck, and you whined. "I know, Bradley."

"God," he rasped, releasing you completely and taking a step back. "Say it one more time."

You unlocked your door, turned to look at him over your shoulder, and your kiss-swollen lips curled into one of those simply gorgeous smiles that earned you your nickname. "Bradley."

It sounded so fucking good. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered. "Lock the door behind you."

You did as you were told with one more little smile just for him, and then he was left standing there alone, trying to catch his breath while he got his phone out and worked on taking date number two from daydream to reality.

-------------------------------

Why is he like this? They are going to get even more handsy on their second date, and I can't handle it. And he can't even go more than a day without seeing her? He needs to be locked away. Thanks for reading! And thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

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@blog-name6996

@bcon24

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@katiebby04

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@lyn-js

@marve2014

@furiousladyking

993 notes · View notes

headkiss · 2 years ago

Text

steady hand

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader

summary: hotch catches you at the worst times, but you’re not mad about it. or: 4 times you need hotch’s help +1 time he needs yours.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: probably very inaccurate descriptions of r’s job (it’s for the plot, okay??), shy!reader, a very small injury description, yearning (?), first kiss, fluff !!!

a/n: hiiiii this is my very first hotch fic (gasp) so i hope i did okay!!! i’m excited to be writing for him and i have enjoyed it so far and i hope you will too!!! please please let me know what you think and if you’d want to see more of him from me <33

༄

People are usually impressed when you tell them you work at the BAU.

Which, you won’t lie, is something to be proud of, but their first thought is always that you’re doing something big and solving cases. They ask you if you were there when this case was solved or when that killer was caught.

Then there’s the nodding and dissipation of their excitement when you explain that you work a desk job there. Organize files, write reports, that sort of thing. That is a lot less impressive to most.

You’re no Agent Morgan, or Dr. Reid. Certainly no Agent Hotchner or Prentiss. Instead of being on the field, you spend your time fighting with a printer.

Getting the papers you needed should have been simple, a quick in and out that would have you back hiding behind your desk in minutes. Of course, the universe or something must be against you, because instead, you’ve spent at least twenty minutes trying to figure out what’s wrong.

It isn’t jammed (you’ve checked about five times to be sure) and you’re not educated in printers enough to know how to fix whatever’s going on. You’re just lucky nobody else has needed it yet.

“Come on,” you mutter, trying to pull it away from the wall to get a better look.

You’re sure there’s stress sweat building on your forehead. The last thing you want to do is ask someone for help, to make yourself too visible in this place full of important, intimidating people. You’d rather struggle on your own for now.

You make sure that the thing is plugged in (it is) and then check if it’s jammed. Again.

“Piece of shit,” you’re mumbling at the thing, leaning over it looking for anything out of place.

That’s when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. The sound has you jumping, your knuckles smacking against the wall where your hand had been wedged between it and the printer. You turn around to find Agent Hotchner.

He’d been walking by the printer room when he heard the grumbled curse words. Peeking inside, he’d been pleasantly surprised to find you fussing over the printer. He bit back a chuckle before making his presence known.

You tug your skirt down where it’d ridden up, fiddling with the hem as you try to push down your embarrassment. Of course he’d be the one to see you, in his crisp suit and all. He’s leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, his arms crossed loosely. You swallow and try not to look at his biceps.

“Sorry, sir. The printer doesn’t seem to be, um, printing.”

“I’m assuming that’s why you were fighting with it.”

You fight a wince, “you heard that?”

“Heard what?” He asks, though by the twitch of his lips, you know that he’s well aware of what you’re talking about. He then gestures at the cause of your issues behind you, “it’s not jammed, is it?”

“I don’t think so. It wasn’t when I checked, at least.”

You’re trying not to act as nervous as you are. You don’t think you’ve ever really spoken to Agent Hotchner, save for small ‘hello’s and that one time you apologized for bumping into him. He’s handsome—you’ve always thought so—and, more importantly, he’s basically your boss.

“Let me take a look,” he says, walking over. You step aside, staying out of the way.

“It’s alright,” you start as he looks over it, “I’m sure you have much more important things to do than fix a printer, sir.”

Hotch’s eyes flick over to where you stand, a hand still fiddling with the hem of your skirt, your hair a little messy, your eyes a little wide and worried. You look pretty, he thinks. And sure, he does have things he should be doing instead of trying to fix this printer, but he doesn’t really care.

“Don’t worry about that,” he tells you.

He looks back to the printer, and he seems pretty convinced about trying to help, so you drop it.

While he’s distracted, you take the opportunity to look at his profile. The slope of his nose, the cut of his jaw, the way his brows are pinched a little in focus. It’s unfair, you think, for him to be smart and brave, and be so good-looking on top of it all.

Like he’d heard your thoughts, felt your gaze, he looks over at you again. You turn your eyes toward the floor quickly.

It’s a couple of minutes before anyone speaks. You, staring at the carpet until your vision goes a little fuzzy. Hotch, pushing buttons and flicking switches trying to figure out whatever was going on with the damn printer.

Then, the sound of the ink swiping over the pages, the papers spitting from the printer. You look over at it, mouth slightly parted. What can’t he do?

The sound of your name has your eyes snapping up to his. It’s yet another surprise, him knowing your name. You’re not that important, in the grand scheme of things at the BAU, in the world, really. Someone meant to stay hidden in the background. And still, he knows your name.

“It should be fine now,” he says, grabbing your papers from the cartridge and handing them to you as he stands up straight. “Let me know if it gives you trouble again.”

You grab the pages from him slowly, still shocked at the whole exchange. Your fingers brush against his as you do. “I- Thank you, sir.”

He nods, moving towards the hall. He pauses in the doorway, turning back towards you. “Hotch is fine.”

“Sorry?”

“You keep calling me ‘sir.’ You don’t have to. Just Hotch is fine.”

“Right. Sorry, sir- I mean, Hotch,” you test it out. “Thank you again.”

Yes, Hotch thinks, he likes you saying his name a whole lot more. He sends you a kind smile, “no problem.”

Hotch walks away, probably towards his office where he has very important things to do. Stuff that was surely delayed because he paused to help you. You stare at the doorway for a minute, until you give yourself a papercut and look down at it.

Aaron Hotchner knows who you are.

You’re two shitty coffees deep so far, your report open on your desk, the typing bar blinking on the screen of your computer.

There’s pages to go, though you’re not sure how many. You’ve been doing the sort of mindless, robot typing you do when you’re tired. When you’re preoccupied with trying not to glance in the direction of Hotch’s office.

The team got back sometime last night, long after you’d already gone home. From somewhere in Indiana, you think. You’re not sure how they do it, flying about and still coming into the office. You’re tired and you can’t even remember the last time you’ve been on a plane. Add the crime fighting and you’d be a goner.

Blinking yourself from your thoughts, you look back at the blank pages spread out in front of you. It’s not unusual for you to be missing pieces that you need to complete things, it’s just inconvenient. You always end up having to ask someone for the files you need, and then you feel like a burden.

It’s stupid, but in a place full of important people, it’s easy to feel like you’re just in the way.

Anyway, it’s your job, so you push away from your desk and stand, tugging the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.

Your first thought is to go to Reid. As far as friendship goes, you’d consider yourself closest to that definition with him. He’s also the least intimidating of the bunch, probably because you see the most of yourself in him.

You find him in the kitchen with Agent Jareau, both holding their own mugs, probably filled with the same coffee as the one that sits on your desk. You knock gently on the door even though it’s open.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if either of you have the files from that case you worked a couple weeks back. The one in Ohio,” you shuffle on your feet under their gaze. “I need them for this report.”

“Hey,” Reid speaks first, smiling kindly, “I don’t remember keeping them, but I can double check in my desk if you would like.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that, I’m sure I’ll find them somewhere.”

You’re about to head out the door when Agent Jareau stops you, “wait, I’m pretty sure Hotch has them. I can go ask him for you.”

It’s silly to feel nervous talking to them, especially when nobody’s ever been anything but nice to you. A little bit of the twist in your gut comes undone.

“No, no. I’ll go ask him if he isn’t busy, thank you though.”

“You should be fine, the door’s open,” she tells you.

You nod, sending the both of them a smile you hope doesn’t look awkward. “Thanks again.”

Their voices picking up their conversation follow you out the door. You cross the space, saying small ‘hello’s to Agent Morgan and Agent Prentiss when they greet you. You try to ignore the prickle of eyes on you as you climb the steps and head to Hotch’s office.

His jacket is draped across the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up on his forearms. It’s probably the most disheveled you’ve ever seen him, and he’s only missing a single layer. You look away from his arms when he says your name.

Hotch had his head bent, looking over a case when he’d heard footsteps, and he’d been glad to find you standing in his doorway. You work in the same place, yet he barely sees you. That’s probably why something lightens in his chest every time he does. The rarity, that’s all.

“Is this a bad time?” You ask.

“Not at all,” he leans back in his chair, “what can I do for you?”

“I’m really sorry to bother you, sir-”

“Hotch,” he reminds gently. His voice is easy, a hum that you think would sound good no matter what he was saying.

“Right, sorry. Hotch. I was just looking for some files that I need from a case you guys had for this report.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

Then, he smiles in that way that Aaron Hotchner so often does. A small twitch of his lips, a lift in the corners. One that you probably wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t paying so much attention. One that feels sort of like a gift.

You shake your head at yourself and elaborate, “the Ohio case. Three weeks ago, I think. I asked Agent Jareau, but she said you had them, so…”

Hotch wants to reassure you, but he’s not sure how to do it without standing up and letting himself grab your hand and squeeze it the way he’d like. And he can’t do that, not when you’re already nervous. Not when he’s not sure he could hold back after one touch.

“It’s no problem,” he opens one of his drawers, flips through folders until he finds what you’re looking for.

He stands up and walks around his desk until he’s in front of you, and he lets his gaze flick over your face while he has the chance. Your eyes find his easily, and you hope he can’t hear the catch in your breath.

Aaron isn’t usually so quiet with his affections, but that’s because he’s never found himself feeling this way at work. He wishes your desk was on his way to his office, just so he’d have an excuse to stop and talk to you. He makes sure never to use your favorite mug from the cupboard, just so you’ll be more likely to have it.

Hotch clears his throat, “here they are.”

He holds up the folder between you, his hand holding it loosely, the other hanging by his side. His fingers twitch.

You’re embarrassingly distracted by his exposed forearms, eyes trailing from his hand to the skin of his arm, to the way his shirt is tight where the sleeves are rolled. Then, it’s the color of his tie today, the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallows.

His hand reaching for yours is enough to erase everything else. He lifts it and places the folder in your hold for you. Your skin burns even when he pulls away.

“You alright?” He asks. Probably because you’d been staring at him like a weirdo.

Get it together.

“Yeah. Yes, sorry. Just sort of spacey today, I guess.”

When you look back to his face, there’s nothing but a sort of softness in his eyes you can’t identify. He smiles at you, and for the second time, you feel like you’ve won something.

“Is that what you needed?” He asks.

You open the folder and peek inside. You find exactly what you’d been looking for, not that you’re surprised. Hotch knew what you’d meant and you didn’t doubt that.

“It is. Thank you, Hotch,” you grin lightly when you get that part right. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“You’re not in my way.”

Hotch says the words like he’d known you needed to hear them, like he’d known what runs through your mind so often, like he can read you. He probably can, you think. He is a profiler after all.

Still, the words make your heart do a stupid little jump.

“I’ll bring them back when I’m done,” you say.

“No rush. They’ll just be going back in the drawer anyway.”

“Well, thank you again.”

“It’s no problem, really.”

Hotch watches you walk back to your desk with your head down. Looking at the folder in your hand, he thinks, at least it’s an excuse for you to come see him again.

Hotch isn’t in his office when you return the files.

Since you can’t thank him in person—assuming he’s off with the team somewhere saving lives—you leave a sticky note on top of the folder. You drop it on his desk and leave before you second-guess yourself and rip the note off.

You can’t help but think that the office feels sort of empty without the team there. Without Hotch there. It’s how it is most days, so you’re not sure why the absence feels so present now. You shake it off.

The day passes by, then your drive home, and the rest of your night, too. Through it all, you can’t stop wondering what Hotch is doing, wherever he is. Hoping he’s safe.

You’re certainly not expecting to see him the next day, back so soon, but you can’t say you’re upset about it. It’s a brief glance, him walking into his office, the rest of the team and their chatter following, but it’s enough to make your work seem less tiring for some reason.

It was a quick case, and Aaron was glad to at least get a couple of hours of sleep in before coming into the office. When he sits at his desk, the first thing he notices is the folder you’ve left there. The small note in your handwriting.

‘Thank you :)’

He peels the note away and folds it up. Without thinking, it ends up tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. It’s a simple piece of paper, but it’s heavy where it sits. He rubs a hand over the pocket where the note is and gets to work.

It’s not until a couple of hours later that Hotch ends up leaving his office. Conveniently, in the direction of your desk.

You’ve been burying yourself in your work, your leg bouncing nonstop, your nose inches away from the pages on your desk, your chair pushed in as close as it’ll go. You have to, because if you take a break, if you look away, your eyes will search for Hotch, and you don’t really want to think about what that means right now.

About the ache in your chest when he’s gone, the urge to go ask him a stupid question just to talk to him. It’s awful.

The pen you’re using suddenly runs out of ink, and it makes you pause long enough to feel a cramp in your hand. You sit up and huff, pulling your drawer open and digging around for another pen. Your name in Hotch’s voice has you shutting the drawer and spinning quickly.

It’s just your luck that your shirt gets caught, that the sound of the rip is too loud to play off or ignore.

“Oh gosh,” you whisper, looking down at the damage.

It’s a cheap shirt, you shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s worse than you’d expected. This is what you get for sitting so damn close. The side seam is split, and if you move too much, your bra would probably be visible.

“This is so embarrassing,” you say, holding the rip shut with one hand and holding the other on your forehead. Of course this would happen to you in front of him.

Aaron’s eyes hover where your skin had been exposed, even now that you hold your shirt shut, wondering if it’d feel as soft as it looks. He can’t even remember what he came over to do or say.

He swallows and looks at your face, “do you have another?”

You shake your head, still hiding behind your hand, “no. I really, really wish I did, though.”

“I have an extra one in my go bag. If you’d like?” He hears himself say the words, and he doesn’t regret them, necessarily, but it’s clear to him that you mess with his brain. He doesn’t think straight where you’re involved.

You peek up at him, dropping your hand to your side. “Are you sure? I could probably just use some paper clips, or something.”

“Nonsense. I’ll go get it, okay? I’ll bring it to the bathroom so you can change.”

“You don’t have to-”

Your name leaves his mouth again, gentle but firm. “I’ll grab it.”

“Okay.”

You speed-walk over to the washroom and walk in, closing the door only to block out the rest of the office, who surely noticed what just happened. You’re probably never gonna live this down.

Your overthinking doesn’t get very far, because after only a minute, Hotch is knocking on the door.

“It’s just me,” he says. ‘Just,’ like that word could ever be used to describe him. “You can just open the door a crack and I’ll pass the shirt through.”

You do as he says, tugging the door open until you can see a white dress shirt (of course) in his hand. You reach out and he hands it to you easily.

“Thank you, Hotch. I’ll wash it and give it back, I promise. Sorry for this.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You can’t see his face, but you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “I mean it.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly, closing the door.

His shirt is wrinkled from being packed in his bag, and the sleeves are long when you put it on, but it smells like him and isn’t ripped so you really can’t complain. You roll the sleeves and tuck the bottom into your pants, looking in the mirror to make sure you look at least a little bit put together.

Holy shit, you think. I’m wearing Aaron Hotchner’s shirt. What world have you been living in recently? To be interacting with him more often, to be feeling this sick skip in your heartbeat whenever you do.

You toss your ripped shirt in the garbage, look up, and huff out a breath before leaving the bathroom. You’re surprised to see Hotch still standing there.

“Oh,” you nearly bump into his chest when you walk out the door, but the warmth of his hand on your shoulder steadies you. “I didn’t know you were still there, sorry.”

“You don’t need to say sorry so much, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. You’re dreaming, surely. You pinch yourself on the inside of your arm, just in case. You don’t wake up.

“I- um,” you’re fumbling for words because he’s standing there, looking at you softly, calling you ‘sweetheart’ in that voice of his.

Aaron doesn’t know where that came from, but he’s said it and it’s happened. With the way he thinks about you, how often he does, he can’t really be surprised. Besides, seeing you get flustered because of him is absolutely worth it.

“I wanted to thank you for getting those files back to me so quickly.”

Your eyes flick over to his arm, and it’s then he realizes that his hand is still on your shoulder. He pulls it away and stuffs it in his pocket. He’s probably imagining it, but he swears his palm is tingling.

You wipe your hands over your thighs, “right. It was no problem, really. I was mostly done with my report, so… Thanks for giving them to me.”

“I’m glad to be able to help,” he says. Then he walks back to his office.

You’re standing in front of the bathroom for what’s surely an odd amount of time. Even back at your desk, you can’t shake the haze you feel, a pink tint to your vision, a flutter in your gut.

You spend the rest of your day with your nose buried in the collar of Hotch’s shirt, avoiding the gazes of your coworkers around you.

Aaron spends the rest of the day thinking about how you looked in his shirt. About how you’d look in it and nothing else. He drags a hand over his face when that pops into his head.

“You good, boss?” Morgan asks from the doorway.

“I’m fine.” He doesn’t miss the knowing smirk on Morgan’s face.

It’s very rare that Aaron leaves work at a reasonable time. So rare that he can’t remember the last time he wasn’t the last person there.

He’s used to the late nights, the empty spaces, deserted desks. Even so, it’s nice to finish up earlier than he’d expected. He looks forward to the extra sleep he’ll get, the longer time frame to decompress.

Leaving work early already felt like a small victory for the day, and he feels like he’s won something bigger when he sees you in your car, still in the parking lot.

You’d left maybe twenty minutes before Hotch, though you’d assumed he’d be leaving hours after you like he usually does. Everything was fine, normal as you bid your goodbyes to your desk neighbors, as you rode the elevator down.

The sun has started setting, and the air gets cooler as it sinks. You fish your car keys from your bag and unlock it, getting in quickly and tossing your bag onto the passenger seat.

You like your job, sometimes you love it, even, but you look forward to going home either way. You think about the warm shower you’ll take, the shitty dinner you’ll end up eating. Your lonely plans are ruined as you twist your car key in the ignition, it sputters and doesn’t start.

“No, no. Come on,” your head falls back, you huff and take the key out.

You try again, and still, no luck. And again, and once more until you’re fed up with it and drop the keys in your lap. Your head is dropped against the steering wheel, allowing yourself a moment of dramatics from your defeat.

A knock on your window startles you upright. Your heart races for reasons other than fear when you look at who it is.

Hotch stands outside, leaning towards your window with a scrunch in his brows. When he catches your eye, he steps back from your door and gives you room to open it and step out.

You shut your car door behind you and lean your back against it, “hi.”

“Hi. Sorry to scare you, but I wanted to check that you were alright?”

“It’s okay,” your arms are folded behind your back, your hands twisting. “Um, it’s nothing, just some car troubles.”

“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“I guess not. It won’t start for some reason. I don’t know.” If he wasn’t standing right there, you’d probably smack yourself for how unsure you sound. “You keep catching me at the worst times, Hotch.”

He disagrees. Aaron can’t think of a time where seeing you could ever be a bad thing.

“You’re fine,” he says, his voice suddenly softer, “trust me.”

Despite the bite of the wind outside, the way he speaks warms you. He’s so honest in the way he speaks, in the sense that he sounds sure, even if it isn’t necessarily vulnerable. You don’t know how he does it.

A small smile spreads on your face before you can stop it, “okay, good. And thank you for checking on me. I’ll just call a cab and figure this out tomorrow.”

There’s no way he can let you take a cab. It’s obvious that with what he does, the things he sees, he’d rather know for sure you’d be safe getting home. But then, there’s the sort of floating feeling he has when he’s around you, one he’d like to feel for a little longer if he could.

“Let me drive you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, really. I’ll be fine.”

He ducks his head a little, catches your eye and holds you with that soft gaze of his. “Please, it’s not a problem. For my peace of mind.”

It doesn’t take much convincing, really. You’d much rather sit in a car that probably smells like him than in the back of a cab that smells like sweat.

“For your peace of mind, then. That’d be great.”

You grab your bag from your car before following Aaron to his, where he opens the passenger door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before shutting it. He jogs around the front of his car and gets in.

“Where am I taking you?” He asks, starting his car. The radio hums softly through the speakers, and Hotch reaches over to turn on the heating when he catches you shivering a little.

You tell him your address, “you don’t have to drive me if it’s out of your way, Hotch. I mean it.”

“It isn’t out of my way,” he assures you, and he could easily be lying, but you accept it anyway.

It’s quiet for a little bit, besides the odd question from Aaron for which way to turn. You take the chance to look at him as he drives, his hands on the wheel, the street lights hitting his face. Your head lulls against the seat.

“You’re finished earlier than usual today,” you say. “Not that I know your schedule, or anything, I just-”

“Sweetheart,” he stops you, a smile spreading. It’s wider than what you’ve seen at work, unguarded enough to show his teeth. It’s really pretty. “It’s alright. It’s work I can be doing at home.”

“That’s good. A change of scenery, at least.”

“Exactly.”

You’re not sure what it is that feels different now, in the car. Maybe it’s because it’s only you and him, no prying eyes in the office, no concerns about what this is, what’s allowed. It might only be you, that feels this sort of spark with him, fizzing i’m the air between you. Either way, you’ll soak it up for the duration of the ride to yours.

Maybe that’s why you’re saying, “you know, I always thought you didn’t even know who I was. Until the printer thing.”

Aaron peeks over at you, leaned in his passenger seat. You look like you belong there, like there’s always been a spot for you in his life. Even when you’d started at the BAU, when he first saw you, he felt like it was right that you were there.

Hell, he’d asked Garcia who you were and has had your name in the back of his head since.

“I’ve always liked you,” he admits. He doesn’t say he’s always known you. Liked.

“Really?” You can’t help but ask. Someone like him even noticing you seemed unfathomable. But liking you? He’s gotta be lying.

“Really. Even when you were bumping into me.”

“You remember that?”

“Yeah, I do. You were looking down at the ground, walking like you were being timed. And you had on this light pink sweater.”

Your eyes go wide, focused on his face. You had been wearing a light pink sweater that day. And he remembers all of that? You think, if you looked at yourself in the mirror right now, your eyes would be in the shape of hearts, pulsing in your pupils.

“I can’t believe you noticed all of that.”

“I notice a lot of things,” he says.

Aaron has always had his guard up around new people, has always made himself more serious at work than anywhere else. Then you came along and he had to fight to keep things that way. It makes sense that the minute he sees you outside of work his walls would crumble to dust.

It was inevitable, really.

“I’ve always liked you, too.” Then, before he can say anything, you point at your building, “it’s this one here.”

The car rolls to a stop slowly, his turn signal flashing as he pulls over by the entrance of your apartment building. He puts the car in park and turns to you fully.

“Thank you for driving me.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

His hand reaches out before he can really think about it, fingertips featherlight over your cheekbone, sliding over to tuck your hair behind your ear. Then, like it was never there, he pulls back. There’s a glow in his fingers where they’d brushed your skin, golden.

It matches the one you feel on your cheek, sparkling.

“Get in safe, okay?”

“It’s a few feet from here to the front door, Hotch. I’ll be alright.”

He huffs softly, twin smiles on your faces. Lovesick and shy, nervous and pink-hazed all at once.

“For my peace of mind,” he says.

“Fine, then. Your peace of mind,” you reach for the door handle, tugging it and pushing the door open. You look at Hotch again, like you can’t get yourself to stop. “Thanks again.”

“See you, sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

You step out and head to your door, turning around before walking inside to give him a wave. Aaron grins and waves back, watching you walk inside.

He stays parked by the curb until he sees a light flick on a couple of floors up.

There’s a reason that Hotch is Unit Chief. He thinks quickly, keeps his head straight even with what he deals with every day. There’s also a reason his leadership has been questioned before, but never revoked.

He can be reckless, throwing himself into situations when he knows he probably should’ve waited for backup. This time, it only got him a split eyebrow and a few stitches. It’s been worse; this is nothing.

It is, however, proving to be an inconvenience. He’d gotten stitched up in the ER of whatever hospital was closest to where the team had caught their unsub. It had to be quick, from the hospital straight to the jet.

They’d told him to clean it up again and put a new bandage on it when he got back, which is what he’s trying to do now, in his office, with his laptop’s grainy camera as a mirror. He has the supplies the hospital gave him on his desk, but he can’t really see what he’s doing, and the task is taking much longer than he’d like.

His hands are a little shaky from the adrenaline of his day, and every time his arm comes up to reach his stitches, it blocks his view.

Then, he sees you walking up to his office.

Usually, you’d already be home by now, but you’d been yourself and messed up some of your paperwork, so you had to stay late to re-do it. When you catch sight of Hotch in his office, you’re not so annoyed with yourself.

You notice the things on his desk, the blood on the front of his shirt. Your feet carry you to his doorway easily. Last time you’d really spoken to him was that night in his car, and ever since, there’s been something boiling, a noticeable shift.

You tap your knuckles on his open door twice, “you okay?”

He gives up on dealing with his cut and looks at you instead, the slightly rumpled state of your clothes from a long day, the smile you wear that doesn’t exactly hide the concern in your eyes, the light from the hallway a halo around you. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“I’m alright. Just can't seem to do this right,” he says, gesturing to his eyebrow.

“Do you need help?”

Aaron has never been one to accept help easily, always one to do things on his own. But, when you’re offering so sweetly, when your help means your hands on his skin, how could he ever say no?

“That would be great.”

He pushes his chair back to give you room to stand in front of him. Your legs between his, leaning against the edge of his desk. His knees bump into the sides of your legs, little bursts of the kind of warmth sunlight emits on skin.

You reach for the wipes first, holding them in one hand and reaching up to his eyebrow, the other grasping his chin gently to keep his head steady.

His hand reaches up to hold your elbow. It could so easily be innocent, be almost nothing, but it feels like more. His thumb running back and forth, your face close enough to his to have your breaths mingling. It really feels like more.

“You’re here late,” he says, low and quiet.

“Spilled coffee all over my work. Had to start over. Can you believe it?” You speak just as quietly, eyes flicking from his cut down to his, just for a second.

“I can, actually. You’re sort of clumsy.”

“Hey!” He’s right, of course, but the warm chuckle he lets out is worth your dramatic gasp.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he assures you, squeezing your elbow. “I think it’s cute.”

“Well, thank you, then.”

You set the wipe aside and reach for the bandage next, placing it over his eyebrow and smoothing down the edges with a light touch. When you’re done, you pull back but don’t go far. Your hands fall from his face to grasp the edge of his desk instead.

“All done,” you say.

Aaron’s hands have shifted to your waist. His touch is so delicate, but you’d never ignore it. It might as well be bruising, the way his hands affect you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Hotch.”

Now would be the time to walk out the door, to say ‘goodnight’ and head home, but you’re in no hurry. Not when his eyes are shining in the dimmed light of his office, soft and practically melting.

They seem to beckon you closer, and though you don’t have a reason this time, your face ends up near his, noses almost touching. It’s as far as you go, afraid you’re misreading things, afraid you’ll be wrong about this.

Hotch closes the space for you.

His chin tilts up, his mouth catching yours softly at first. His hands tighten on your waist, his lips slightly chapped and completely perfect against yours.

You think your knees might buckle, so you put your hands on his shoulders, thumbs digging into his skin, like you’re trying to make sure he’s real. You’re not sure how you manage to kiss him back but you do, and you hear the sharp intake of breath he takes when you push back.

The kiss doesn’t deepen, but it doesn’t have to. You can feel plenty in it already.

It’s not long before Hotch pulls away, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head to look up at you. He removes one of your hands from his shoulder and holds it in his.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” he says, his thumb running over your knuckles.

You look down at your feet, at his legs next to yours. The hand still on his shoulder falls to your side, suddenly feeling nervous.

“You’re right, I’m so-”

“But,” he stops your apology before you can say it. As if you’d ever need to apologize for kissing him. “I’d like to take you to dinner sometime. If you’d want that.”

You look back at his face, eyes searching. He smiles so softly at you, it’s the kind of smile you could only ever give someone you like in this way. Someone you like enough to kiss.

“I’d really like that, Hotch.”

“Good,” he stands, but his hands don’t leave you. “And sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Call me Aaron.”

When you test it out, he’s sure of it; his name on your lips is his absolute favorite sound.

༄

thank you so much for reading!!! please please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, it helps a whole bunch more than you’d think and would mean a lot!! <3

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neoraso · 4 months ago

Text

talk to me in your love language | lmk

idol!mark x non!idol reader (him being an idol is not part of the plot at all, it's just for context) wc: ~2.8k warnings: i truthfully do not know how it became suggestive it was supposed to be sweet, still only like pg-13, lots of kissing and suggestive comments but no actual smut.

it really was nothing big, so why was your heart racing? this was absolutely not the first time you’ve prepared gifts for mark, but you never got over the giddiness that came with waiting for him to come home. whenever you made these small gestures, he always made sure to let you know how thankful he was, how special you were to him, but even still, sometimes you felt like it wasn’t enough. it was hard to say how you felt out loud, so you relied on writing it in letters, sometimes with stickers or little doodles. flowers and his favorite snacks, printed pictures of the two of you were the usual pairings. these gifts were given sporadically and usually for no reason other than you felt a surge of love that had to come out somehow.

oh well, it didn’t matter now because you could already hear the keypad being pressed as the front door opened, followed by an immediate calling out for you. it was nearing 8 p.m. and he had left at 9 o’clock this morning so, as usual, he had had an exhausting day. with an inward sigh, you hoped this would cheer him up. he had told you on occasion that no matter how much he worked, how little he slept, or how defeated he felt, seeing and being with you made everything worth it. now that he had you, there was no way he could live without you. of course, you felt the same and took opportunities like this to prove it.

“babe?” you could tell he hadn’t even gotten his shoes off or put his bag down before half shouting again, “baby? are you home?”

you busied yourself grabbing his gift from the drawer of your bedside table before responding as you exited the bedroom.

“yes sir. here i am.” you replied, dramatically spreading your arms with a sweet grin. you were sure you’d never get tired of looking at him and how his face lights up with a smile that spreads slowly when he sees you.

shaking his head to move his bangs out of his eyes, he immediately walked towards you, hands drawn to your hips and smiling oh so sincerely down at you.

“how’s my girl?” he said lowly, sliding his hands up and down your sides. “you gonna give me a kiss or what? been waiting all day.”

already flustered even after being with him so long, sometimes he caught you off guard with how bold he could be now. he had certainly grown from the bashful, wide-eyed boy you knew him as years ago. what’s worse is half the time he didn’t even realize what he was doing.

“i’m good…” you dragged out the words trying to ignore how close his mouth was to yours. his eyes were trained on your lips and you knew he was only half paying attention.

you could barely keep it together when his nose touched yours and his mouth slid over your slightly parted lips. just before he could have his way with you, you spoke against him.

“i got you something…”

at this, his eyes widened and he pulled away to see what you were talking about, his gaze trailed down to your right hand landing on the small jewelry box in your palm.

“what’s this? it’s not my birthday. wait- is it?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at how startled he was. “no, it’s not your birthday- or any other occasion, don’t worry. no occasion other than just another day i wanted to say i love you.”

he had still been holding your waist but now reached up to take the box from you before looking back into your eyes with a glint of something in his own that you couldn’t put your finger on.

“let me know if it fits you or you don’t like it and i can return it…” suddenly self-conscious, you started twisting the ring he had given you on your one year anniversary around your finger. it had become a habit when you were nervous to fidget with the band engraved with his initial. he picked up on this as well, but instead of commenting he simply opened the box carefully. a smile instantly cut across his face when he figured out what was engraved on the pendant of the thin, shiny silver bracelet. then you could also tell that he noticed the small note attached to the inside of the lid.

day one of my forever <3

“is this the date of when i actually like finally for real asked you to be my girlfriend?” he said through the grin that had only widened after looking at your expectant expression. as obsessed and endeared by him as you were, he was sure he was at least eight times more enamored with you. you let out a laugh at his description, nodding to confirm.

“yeah i thought, maybe you should have something of us too. obviously something not too flashy because… you know. but i just thought it would be cute. i can get the chain adjusted if it’s too short or-“

he cut you off with a kiss to your cheek, pulling you in for a hug and kissing your hair when he had you close enough.

“it’s perfect baby. thank you so much…” he trailed off, swaying with you in his arms (still in the doorway.) after a couple minutes, he breathed in slowly and deeply before speaking again.

“i feel like you’re always doing these things for me, and i can never reciprocate.” you could’ve sworn his voice cracked at the end of his sentence which alarmed you because he was almost never choked up and especially not over a bracelet. instead of pulling away to look at him (because you knew he probably wouldn’t let you if he was actually crying) you patted his back, holding him tight too.

“aw baby,” you reassured him, “i don’t do this for anything in return. this is just how i show my love. i love you unconditionally anddon’t expect anything from you on top of everything you already do for me.” now you did pull away, slightly pushing him backwards by his chest. you only briefly acknowledged how his eyes were just a bit shinier than normal and instead pulled his face to yours with both hands now that they were free.

kissing him in between phrases you tried to tell him how you felt.

“you’re so sweet to me,”

“always cheering me up,”

“making sure i get good sleep, if i’ve taken my vitamins,” he was chasing your mouth at this point, nearly drunk from how much affection was pouring out of you.

“hugging me~”

“holding me~”

“making me laugh~”

“and, you give me gifts too.” with a final kiss you stood back and patted his chest and continued, “so basically, don’t feel bad. you just express it differently. and i’ve never doubted your love. not even once. okay?”

he hid his face in your neck and pressed his lips against the skin there, dragging his mouth back and forth making you shiver and thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

“okay… well i really do love it. and i love you,” he kissed your neck and continued as his lips ghosted upwards towards your ear, “you know i’d do anything for you don’t you?”

“yes…i do…” your answer was airy as you could only whisper trying to keep your knees from buckling with how close he was. obviously, he was unaware of the effect he was having on you because he keptgoing, moving upwards and inhaling audibly before kissing your cheek, finally ghosting over the corner of your mouth until pressing against your lips full on. you responded immediately, giving in to his original request (a mutually beneficial one).

surprisingly, he pulled away before you, just far enough that you could look into his eyes but still feel his warm breath on your face.

“you know i keep everything you give me. every letter, the movie tickets from our dates, i even still have that little shell you found at the beach and gave to me just because it was pretty.” now he was smiling again, petting your hair and straightening his posture upwards so his mouth was level with your forehead, leaving yet another kiss there. you hadn’t said anything to his confession, stunned that things you thought were insignificant meant so much to him. your lack of response didn’t faze him because he knew what you meant to say just from the way you looked up at him.

“come on, help me put this on then we can get some food, i’m starving.”

“you didn’t eat?” you asked him with a frown, now grabbing the fabric of his hoodie at his wrists that were hanging onto your shoulders.

instead of answering right away, he just straightened his arms more, starting to step forward forcing you to walk backwards, you could only laugh a bit at how you both had to waddle all the way to the couch.

“nah, i ate earlier today but i left before the guys did so i could see you.” he belatedly replied, looking a bit too happy with his decision even in the face of your glare (even though he had tried to explain to you that it was more adorable than menacing). you spared him the lecture about taking care of himself because all that mattered now was that he was here, and you could take care of him all you wanted.

he flopped onto the couch with a loud sigh, swiftly pulling you down too with the grip he had on you. you scooted back, getting more comfortable when he guided your legs over his lap throwing his head over the back of the sofa with his eyes closed. you could see the exhaustion in his face and let out a small breath too, causing him to open one eye to check on you only to find you looking back at him fondly. you reached towards his hand that was still grasping the jewelry box, but he seemed to think that you meant to hold his hand because he grabbed your fingers as soon as they touched the cool leather of the box.

“i was trying to help you put this on, silly.”

“oh” was all he could say, the tips of his ears red as he tried to calm his heart down, letting go of the gift and wondering if it was always going to be this nerve-wracking being around you.

he hoped so.

he was still looking at you with visible heart eyes by the time you finished securing the bracelet around his wrist. before you removed your left hand, he softly held your fingers over his palm, admiring the ring on your middle finger.

“you wear this every day huh?” he said, chest puffing with pride at his girl wearing a ring with his name. he only saw your nod out of the corner of his eye before getting lost back in thought. he began stroking the finger next to it, your ring finger. he took a pause, with his eyes still fixed on your hand. “there’ll be a ring here next, i promise.”

you didn’t even have a chance to say anything before he leaned over to leave a quick kiss on your lips before continuing like nothing had happened. the tension dissipated just as easily as he had built it up, giving you major whiplash (which actually was nothing new with him).

“i’m thinking chicken, whatchu want girl?” he was teasing you now, squeezing the flesh of your exposed thigh, his bracelet cool against your skin. his other hand maneuvered his phone out of his pocket. your mind was still replaying his words from just a second ago, so you responded dazedly,

“whatever you want baby.” you replied simply, truly just wanting him to eat at all.

“aw, i have everything i want but i would also like some fried chicken.” he replied looking all too pleased with himself.

“how romantic.” you said flippantly, adjusting your position onto your knees to look at his phone screen for the menu. after about 30 seconds you realized he was staring at you again. when you turned your head to face him, he grinned as if this was his plan all along.

“hi.” he said simply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. it was your turn to be flustered now as you could feel your face heating up, but you still didn’t want to look away.

“hello...”

he looked at you for a moment.

“you’re so pretty, did you know that?”

he says this often, and still, it never fails to make your heart skip a beat.

“my boyfriend has told me that once or twice…”

“hm, seems like your boyfriend is slacking, what ever could he do to show you how special you are?” he played right along.

“well, he could kiss me right now for starters…”

“that’s a simple enough request.” he was already leaning in with his nose brushing yours. you met him there, parting your lips when he lightly grabbed your cheeks. he hastily slid his tongue in and pressed you impossibly close, practically panting into your mouth when you reciprocated just as eagerly. his eyes were still closed and his chest was rising and falling just a tad heavier than usual when you pulled away from him.

this only lasted for five seconds before he was already guiding you towards his face by the back of your neck so you had to talk against his mouth.

“my boyfriend…allllways shows me how pretty and special i am to him.” you kissed him once, “i have no complaints.” another kiss “love him more than he knows.” a final kiss to his lips, another on the beauty mark on each of his cheeks and a final one to his nose before attempting to sit back up.

this whole time you had been hovering over him sideways, only being held up by your hand on his knee. it was such an awkward position you tried to return to your original arrangement but he refused, tugging you closer and manipulating your hips until you were sat with your back on his chest.

“there we go, now you can help me order.” he rested his cheek on your head and turned his face a bit to kiss you there several times.

“you know what i like baby, i trust you to order.”

“yeah i do know what you like, i could show you if you want…” you couldn’t see him but you know he was smirking and raising his eyebrows suggestively like he always did when he tried to start something.

“can you order the food first and then show me?”

“can you kiss me again?”

“mark.”

“ok my bad, my bad.” finally paying for the food he all but threw his phone to the side and almost instantaneously flipping you (as delicately as possible) with your back to the couch, hovering over you.

“wow, somebody is excited.” you teased before holding in your breath when he put his face in your neck, immediately mouthing at it.

“wanted to be with my girl allll day, you gonna deny me of it?” he leaned back up over you, with a pleading look on his face. he knew if you didn’t really want his affection, you’d say it, so it was a half-rhetorical question.

“no, no, carry on cutie pie”

he groaned at this making you giggle, knowing how calling him cute makes him want to prove something. it was a fun trick you liked to pull out every once in a while.

“ugh dude, you’re killing the moment right now, we were having a moment.”

you opted to trail your finger along the neckline of his hoodie and lifting your knee upwards so it brushed the inside of his thigh. his expression was one of slight panic which always satisfied you when you got to have your moments.

“so sorry baby, let’s go have a moment anywhere but this couch my neck is already getting tweaked i can feel it.”

with your green light, he got impatient all over again. he tugged you up off the couch with him, practically vibrating with anticipation. he couldn’t even wait to kiss you again, eagerly pressing his lips to yours once you got on your feet.

“i really do love the gift baby, and i love you, can’t wait to wear it everywhere. love you so much…” he was whispering against your mouth between each kiss, grabbing at your sides.

he had a tendency to be insatiable.

you had tangled your fingers in his hair in his frenzy and now worked to smooth down the strands. cooing at him,

“aw i love you too, you’re so sweet baby, and handsome, and if i recall correctly, were just offering to show me something…” you brought him back to the task at hand and he was quick with his response, nudging you towards the bedroom.

“wayyy ahead of you.”

the food could wait.

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yxngbxkkie · 11 months ago

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telling the boys you're pregnant (l.k)

okay! so, people have asked for a part two of mornings with minho ✨️ and i finally figured out how it should go! it's short, but i do hope you guys like it 🩷

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

“Bunny?” You call out Minho's pet name after walking into the apartment. Your free hand shifts through the shopping bag you have, excited to show your husband what you bought. “Are you home??”

You can hear the bells on your cat's collars, the three of them trotting towards you. Doongie meows before rubbing his head against your leg. You giggle and set the bag onto the table, crouching down to pet your fur babies.

“Did you call me, jagiya?” Minho's voice snaps you from petting the cats.

“Yeah, hi, bunny,” you greet him as he walks over to where you're crouched.

He smiles down at you and helps you back up. “Hi, baby,” he giggles, pressing a loving kiss on your lips. Minho notices the bag on the table, reaching a hand out towards it. “What's this?”

A squeal leaves your lips, and you pull away from him, moving to show him what you've bought. “I got some things for the boys! For when we tell them about the baby,” you tell him excitedly, emptying the bag.

“I got each one a cupcake. I got you one, too. That way, there's an even amount of each color,” you start to explain, neatly placing the desserts on the table. Minho nods his head while watching you, a smile adorning his lips. “And then, I printed out seven copies of the sonogram. That'll go beside the cupcake.”

Minho grabs the photos from you, neatly placing them beside the seven cupcakes. “I still can't believe that's ours,” he whispers, moving to land a kiss on your cheek.

Your heart flutters in your chest as you nod in agreement, resting a hand on your stomach. “I know. I hope they look just like you, bunny,” you grin ear to ear, stroking your husband's cheek.

“Psh, I hope they look like you,” Minho giggles and gently kisses your forehead.

You kiss his lips quickly before going through the bag again. “I've got one more thing. I found the cutest cards to give to them. I had them made the other day,” you pull out one of them, handing it to Minho.

He takes it from you and reads what you had printed on it. “I know you won't meet me for another 7 months. Dad tells me a lot about you guys, and I can't wait to meet you. 🩷”

“This is adorable, jagiya. They won't know what hit them,” he chuckles, gently ruffling your hair.

You set everything up perfectly on the table, knowing that the boys will be here soon. “I'm nervous,” you giggle while fiddling with your fingers.

Minho tucks your hair behind your ears, and he shakes his head. “How come? You know the boys, they'll be so excited,” he reassures you and rubs your arm.

“I know, I know.”

He kisses you a few times, resting his hands on the nape of your neck. “I love you, honey. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Minho,” you whisper against his lips.

Before your husband has the chance to deepen the kiss, multiple knocks echo off of the front door.

“What perfect timing they have,” Minho groans, pulling away from you. You giggle, patting his chest before walking over to the door.

You open the door, and the rest of Minho's members stand on the other side. Chan greets you first, pulling you into a quick hug. A giggle leaves your lips as you hug each one on their way in.

“Thanks for coming,” Minho smiles as they take their seats at the table. You slide each gift in front of the boys, watching their eyes shift between you and the items. “Y/N and I have something to announce.”

“We've been waiting for weeks to tell you all,” you say with a smile, standing beside Minho.

Hyunjin's brows furrow as he opens the card first, reading the words you put. “Wait, dad?” He questions, lifting his head to look at you both.

Chan's eyes widen, and he quickly leans towards Hyunjin, reading the card. Jisung releases a gasp, dropping whatever was in his hands.

“You're pregnant?!” Jisung squeals, showing the other boys your sonogram.

Tears pool in your eyes as the chatter between them and Minho grows louder. Felix stands up from his chair, quickly rushing towards you to hug you again.

“Congratulations!” He tells you, rubbing your back gently.

“Thank you,” you smile, feeling a couple of tears slip from your eyes.

Each member gets up and hugs both of you, even though Minho hates receiving hugs from them. You giggle as Chan wraps his arms around your husband's chest, hugging him from behind.

“I can't believe Minho’s going to be a dad,” Seungmin mentions, glancing towards Jeongin.

“I know!” Jeongin exclaims.

Minho walks back over to you, draping his arm over your shoulder. “Well, believe it! In seven months, you all will be uncles!” He says before kissing the top of your head.

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

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glow-worms-are-believers · 1 year ago

Text

Mistaken Identities (dp x dc)

Danny had been doing his thing, looking around, making sure he didn't alter anything in the past, minding his own business. Officially, this was supposed to be a trip to gather more blood blossom samples for Team Phantom to study, but he had ended up being a little sidetracked. Apparently though, puritan times made for beautiful forests, sue him if he was enjoying a moment of peace in his otherwise crazy life. So here he was, relaxing for the first time in way too long when this guy just barged into the clearing. Danny straightened up with a yelp which had the guy stopping in his tracks before he turned to look at Danny.

"Be not afraid, child. I mean you no harm," the man said.

Danny squinted as he looked up at the half-shadowed face of the man that seemed vaguely familiar.

"Boy?"

"Uh-" Danny managed as he realized he was supposed to answer. "Oh yeah, no problem, man."

The man tilted his head which directed Danny's attention to his weird buckle-hat. Sobering up as he recognized the clothes from his previous jaunt in the past where Sam had almost gotten burnt at the stake, he mentally congratulated himself for turning back into a human before his nap. He really didn't want to end up trapped in blood blossoms by witch-finders again.

"Are you lost?" The man said, as he edged closer. "Do you require aid?"

The halfa jumped to his feet. "Nope!" Danny said before letting out a nervous laugh. "No aid, I'm all good. Thanks though."

The man opened his mouth to say something before another voice, higher pitched stopped him. "You are back!" A woman wearing a simple dress, with a few birds fluttering around her like a Disney princess approached them.

"Annie," answered the man.

"Come," she said before leading him away with only a glance towards the teenager. The man let himself be dragged away, but not before a last few words. "If you are ever in need of assistance, please do not hesitate."

Danny waved his hand. "Yep. For sure, dude. Thanks!"

Then before the man had turned away completely, the woman grabbed his hat playfully which revealed his face completely to the weak moonlight, and coincidentally to Danny's view. The couple disappeared between the thick foliage as Danny sat, struck dumb with what he had just witnessed.

"Oh my god," he whispered to himself. "That was Bruce fucking Wayne."

Danny had seen enough rag magazines and newspapers with his face printed on the cover to recognize the billionaire for sure. What the hell was he doing in Puritan times? Then, it hit Danny like a brick. Natural portals. They weren't common, or stable and they'd been known to spirit away people randomly. Clearly, they also had some pretty severe side-effects including amnesia considering the old-timey speech pattern Mr. Wayne was using.

There was only one thing for it, Danny clearly had to bring Mr. Wayne back to the present. Not only because it was the right thing to do, but also because a missing billionaire was bound to attract a good amount of attention and if anyone connected this to the ghost zone... Well if the GIW was bad now, Danny didn't want to know what other kind of unsavoury people would pop up if ghosts were better-known. Just imagining the Justice League getting involved was giving Danny the shivers. No, the best thing to do was get Mr. Wayne back to his time and hope he wouldn't remember much of what had happened and wouldn't dig into it further.

Just as he was nodding to himself, he heard a scream coming from not too far away. He transformed before flying towards the noise, only to find the woman he'd seen before with Mr. Wayne being captured by a bunch of men wearing the same kinds of hat.

"She's a witch! Burn her!" He heard someone yell. "Hang her dead!" Someone else said.

This was giving Danny some major flashback to Sam's very own witch burning and without wasting a second, he phased the woman right out of their grips and flew them away from the angry mob.

As soon as he landed and let go of the woman, she turned to him and gripped his arm instead. "You have to help him!"

"Help who?" Danny asked, wincing.

"Mordecai!" she said, her grip tight.

"Is that the man who was with you earlier?" the teenager asked.

The woman nodded before pointing southeast. "He is in the caves, fighting the dragon!"

Danny didn't waste anytime before flying in the direction she had pointed to. Going intangible helped with speed, and he phased through the ground, going straight for the aforementioned cave. He just phased through when he caught sight of Mr. Wayne. As he got closer, he could feel some sort of energy radiating from the man. Just then, the energy started building up and Mr. Wayne started to go transparent. Panicking, Danny did the first thing he could think of and absorbed the mounting energy to himself. It felt like a shot of adrenaline except way, way stronger and for a moment everything blanked out, before the world came into focus again. When he looked around, he couldn't find a trace of Mr. Wayne, but from the energy left over he could tell exactly when he had landed. The Golden Age of Piracy.

"Goddamit!" Danny yelled as he once again felt Bruce Wayne slip through his grasp as he stole away the potent energy from the billionaire's body before it could follow wherever he was going next. First it had been pirates, then the Wild West and lastly it was 20th century Gotham, clearly the natural portal had been all kinds of fucked up for Mr. Wayne to have been dragged from time period to time period. It was a miracle he was even still alive, the poor man! Danny let out a harsh sigh as he parsed out through the information the energy had left him with. This time he'd gotten the information for the two next time-jumps, which meant, Danny could get ahead of this for once and finally catch Mr. Wayne before he could jump again.

With a steadying intake of breath, Danny took out the Infiniv-map and set his destination before he let himself follow through. As he got through he could hear a bunch of different voices, all talking over each other.

"-distortions mean what I think it-"

"-not fair!"

"-time is breaking-"

"-only leave his body once he's dead."

Danny paid no mind as he locked eyes on Mr. Wayne who was lying in Wonder Woman's arms, in a black bodysuit, looking worse for the wear. The same energy as before was emanating from him, though this time it was even stronger. Danny approached carefully, invisible before he put a hand onto Mr. Wayne's chest and concentrated on drawing all the energy into himself. It wasn't like the other times, the flow was faster and he was having trouble staying focused as more and more flew into him. His brows scrunched in concentration, and unbeknownst to him, the invisibility dropped.

All the heroes in the room turned to look at the suddenly appearing white-haired teen who had a hand on Batman's chest. As they stared in confusion, the teen started to glow. It grew brighter and brighter before everyone had to shield their eyes as there was a pulse of bright light that died down almost immediately after. Wonder Woman had to blink the spots out of her vision as she felt the weight in her arms start to shift and let out a groan. "Bruce!"

She set him down and helped him put his head between his knees, as she gently stroked his back. Superman settled on his other side while Red Robin just sat in front of him, still half-believing Bruce was really back.

"What happened?" Bruce mumbled. "The omega radiation, I thought-"

"I'd like to know that too," Green Lantern said before he turned towards the glowy kid who was still blinking his eyes as if to chase away afterimages.

"His energy signature is the same as Darkseid," Raven said, her own eyes having not left the teenager since he had appeared.

"You don't mean..." started Superman as all the heroes turned to look at the kid slowly. The latter finally looked up as if sensing he was the focus of many eyes and cringed as he met the combined stares of the Justice League.

"Yes," Raven answered. "This is Darkseid's son."

#my guy Danny has no idea what is going on #at least nobody's shooting at him #he would still like to know who is that Darkseid guy and why do these people think he's his dad #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny is Darkseid's son #(at least that's what the justice league think)#this is what happens when you absorb unknown energy willy-nilly #it's just not sanitary who knows where that energy could have come from tsk tsk #I just read Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne #so just know this is entirely based off of that #('that' being that period when Bruce was lost in time)#roxpox #roxpoxwrote

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hiddenzev · 1 month ago

Text

Second Confession: Final Part

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Something happened to reader, causing Joel to take care of her. A happily ever after.

Chapter Warnings - Fluff, Idiots in Love, (let me know if i missed anything)

WC: 13.3K

series masterlist, AO3

A/N: The hardest chapter for me to write yall that's why it took me longer to write. It could be better but I hope you guys love the closure. Thank you for taking the time to read this story!!

Breathing in the crisp and refreshing morning air, leaving fresh hoof prints in the snow that has piled up over the night, you’re out for the supply run with Joel this morning. It had started snowing a few days after that night at the bar like you guessed. With one horse each, both of you are riding along the trees in the woods in silence.

Ever since the outburst of emotions between you and him, he has been keeping true to the words of giving you as much time and space as you need before coming around to him again and he took it way too seriously. You never see him in the library after that or the town hall or anywhere else. As a matter of fact, it’s like he has disappeared from the face of this earth. He is avoiding you as much as possible.

You use that time to comprehend everything that happened during that exchange and properly consider the actions that you should take after that. The apology from him was unexpected and it caught you off guard. Time and time again, you would see the big brown puppy eyes that were gazing into yours, begging you for forgiveness, in your head throughout the whole day. The sincerity that you see from the desperation in his eyes, the trembling of his strained voice, moist lush lips from his constant nervous licking to the soft touch of his fingers on yours. You have never seen this side of him up close before and it shook your determination to not let him get to you again.

During those days that you didn’t see him, it felt kind of empty. It’s the first time he was out of your sight for more than a day and you get the feeling of ambivalence. On one side, you get to think more clearly without him affecting you in a physical way but on the other hand, you miss him a little bit. The constant consumption of his presence vanished and it bombarded you with the longing to see him even if it is just for a second.

He definitely needs to show more through his actions if he wants to be forgiven. You’re not going to let him off the hook easily just by him apologising like he did that night. Like he said, he should do whatever it takes to make it all up to you. At the same time, you want to be a better person and not treat him like shit at least. To give him the chance to prove himself that he do want your forgiveness.

The silence of the supply run is suffocating but you don’t mind it as you make up for the time that you were not able to see him by staring at him from the back as long as you can. As much as he frustrates you, you will never get bored of looking at him. As if he could sense that you were staring at him, he glances back to say that you both are nearing the first checkpoint to take a break. By this time during your usual patrols, the both of you would have already start to make your way back to Jackson. This is going to be way more taxing but you know you got to push through it.

Surrounded by some bushes and trees, you and Joel are sitting facing each other, resting. You packed enough food for at least 2 days, packing as light as possible for the travels and supplies. You’re munching on the last few bites of your sandwich when Joel hands a small cup of his coffee to you. You raise your eyebrows at him, not expecting him to share any of his beloved coffee with you. He points with his chin, telling you to drink it.

“Thank you.”

You hand him the cup back after finishing the coffee within a couple of gulps. You didn’t bring any coffee with you unlike Joel who is definitely a caffeine addict. Coffee is a scarce resource so to have him sharing it with you is definitely surprising when he doesn’t even want to share it with Tommy.

“I think we should pick up the pace if we want to reach there before it gets dark,” he says while looking out at the sky.

“Okay. Let’s move on now.”

You stand up and brush off the food crumbs and dirt on your pants. You move to your horse and make sure everything is alright before getting on it. Joel’s eyes follow your every movement and slowly make his way to his horse.

“Cmon Miller, we’ve got no time. Pick up the pace.” you jokingly nag at him as you watch him strap his stuffs back on the horse.

The goofiness in you just want to poke some fun at him since the whole trip from the start has been a boring nightmare. Raw dogging the whole ride on a horse with a quiet and stoic man like your partner is actually brutal to your sanity right now.

He looks back at you, annoyed. You want to let out a laugh so bad but you keep it in. Instead, a small smirk creeps out of your mouth as you look down at him. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your smile, you turn your head to the side to hide it. Joel glares at you but his eyes soften when he catches that smirk of yours that you are trying to hide from him. He almost smile but straighten himself out and gets on the horse.

Both of you make your way to the designated spot to search for supplies in a faster speed than before. Eventually, you and Joel arrive there a couple hours before the sun goes down. From a distance, you can see there is a couple of cabin houses. Joel slows down and you follow suit, sensing that you should be cautious and ready if anything is going to happen. You scan the surrounding areas with sharp eyes, not wanting to miss something weird going on.

Joel leads you to a nearby tree to the nearest house, tying the horses to it. With rifles already gripped, both of you look at each other to discuss the plan.

Joel steps closer to you, eyes unwavering, whispering the plan, “We’ll check the houses one by one first. You stay close behind me and check our six. You see something, you let me know,” you nod, staring into his eyes, “If there’s no one, we’ll discuss more after. Ready? Stay sharp.”

“Stay sharp.” You echo his words and with determined glint in yours and Joel’s eyes, both of you start walking slowly to the nearest house first.

Joel is moving forward while you are checking the six, moving backwards towards Joel. You scan slowly if there’s anything or anyone hiding behind the trees. There’s no boot prints or any animal prints in sight except yours and Joel’s as you move. Reaching the first house, Joel opens the door easily as it wasn’t locked. Everything seems intact in their respective places, dusts everywhere meaning there wasn’t anyone that came around recently. But still, both of you are careful in exploring the place.

Joel and you check out the other houses as well and as you thought, this whole area hasn’t been infiltrated by anybody else for quite some time. There is an empty shed right beside the first cabin which Joel uses to shelter the horses for the night. After ransacking the houses, the both of you move the supplies found to the same shed and pack the things properly for the ride back to Jackson tomorrow.

The sun is setting once both of you are done with it and Joel is getting ready to warm the place up using the fireplace in the house. There’s only one couch that is big enough for one person to lie down on. Other than that, there are only a couple of wooden chairs around. You push the couch nearer to the fireplace and sits down on one side of it, watching Joel lit the fireplace up.

After making sure the fire is burning okay on its own, Joel moves back to the other end of the couch. You can hear his knees cracking as he sits, sighing heavily as his head reach the back of the couch. He closes his eyes as he listens to the cracking of the fire. You turn to look at him resting, taking in everything that you can to memory. His chest moving up and down slowly as he breathes. Noticing his beard and hair thicker and longer than it was a couple weeks before.

“I can feel you staring at me.” he speaks, breaking the silence in the cabin.

You look away to gaze at the fire as if you were not just staring at him.

“I wasn’t,” you deny.

“Yeah right.” He opens his eyes slightly to look at you while you tried to maintain your lie by focusing on the fire.

It is getting awkward again so you take out the food that you stored in your bag to eat for your dinner. Distracting yourself with food, Joel does the same thing, taking out a small packet of salad to eat. You notice that he was only eating greens which makes you wonder how the hell is he getting the strength without any protein in his food. The meat lover in you wouldn’t survive with just greens but hey, beggars can’t be choosers, you get it.

“Just salad?” You subconsciously frown as you ask him.

He snaps his head to you, surprised that you are making conversation with him, “No. I was short on protein. Only had the jerky which I stupidly left in my kitchen.” He looks forlorn like a kid being sad about the candy that dropped on the floor.

You hand him one of your leftover sandwiches that you have. You don’t mind giving him one because you made a bunch of sandwiches which is more than enough for you alone. He shakes his head refusing to take it.

“It’s fine. It’s your portion for tomorrow.” He refuses while picking at his salad.

“Nah, I’m good. I have more than enough.” You reassure him, not taking a no for an answer.

He takes the sandwich with hesitation, thanking you and takes a small bite out of it. You finish yours while glancing at him from time to time, making sure he is finishing his meal. He tries to hand you his coffee after the dinner but you refuse it this time because you needed to sleep soon. Both of you are slumping against the couch, legs stretched out, falling into the comfort of the night. You are in a daze as you stay still, fire gazing, before he speaks again.

“I read your letter.” He murmurs in a soft voice.

You keep quiet thinking about the letter that you wrote. You can vaguely remember word for word but you definitely know the highlights of it. Your face burns from the embarrassment again.

“I didn’t know how deep your feelings were before reading it. I’m sorry again for being a dick.”

You look down on your hands, not knowing where to look and what to say.

“I love the horse piece by the way. It’s beautiful. You should try to carve more often.” His eyes focuses on you when you turn your head to him.

His eyes twinkles with the reflection of the fire in front of the both of you.

“I thought you must have thrown it away after seeing your reaction that night,” Looking away from him, reminiscing what happened.

“I didn’t,” he shakes his head, feeling disappointed in himself for reacting badly.

The silence grow stronger as he is wallowing in sorrow of that night.

“How about the, uh, guitar pick?” In a quiet voice you ask.

He huffs softly thinking about it, “It’s so corny.” A small curl at the end of his mouth appears as he talks about it, his eyes everywhere else but you. He doesn’t know why he’s feeling shy from talking about it or maybe it’s just you that is affecting him.

“Ellie saw it one time and kept pestering me about why I didn’t tell her that I found it.” He shakes his head, almost smiling, remembering how annoying Ellie was with the bad jokes.

“So you didn’t tell her how?” you’re full on looking at him now, intrigue with this openness from him.

“I didn’t,” he shakes his head and glance at you with an unreadable gaze, “want it to be my own little secret for a bit.”

You blink a couple times at him, flustered by his reply. Meanwhile, his eyes are gazing into yours without a blink. You clear your throat, adjusting your position a little trying to be nonchalant about it.

“Did you tell her about the gifts? Because she’s been on my ass about it recently.” He continues the conversation.

“Yeah. Knew she’s gonna kick your ass about it. Can’t say you didn’t deserve it though…” you shrug your shoulders, giving him an awkward look.

“I still do deserve it.” He sits up and lean forward to rest his elbows on his thighs.

“I want to let you know that I am sincere with everything that I said that night. I’m terrible with this…feelings stuff but,” he pauses to look at you, “I will do my best to regain your affection.” He says in a firm and soothing tone.

Hearing his determination to redeem himself outright to you, it makes you speechless. You just have to see through his actions as time goes by. He breaks the eye contact and stands up to pick up his rifle.

“I’ll take the first shift. Get some sleep.” He takes a couple seconds to look at you, making sure you’re okay before making his way out of the door to check if there’s anything dangerous outside.

You proceed to lie down on the sofa, resting your head on the arm rest as you face the ceiling. Too tired to think of the conversation with Joel a couple of minutes ago, you fall into a deep slumber almost straight away.

Your eyes blink open to a brighter surrounding. The sun is starting to rise and you can hear the chirps of the birds in a distance. In a daze, you look around wondering why Joel didn’t wake you up. You notice he is sitting on the floor, leaning his side against the front of the couch seat. His head is resting sideways on the seat, facing you and almost touching your hip. His face is calm without his usual frown and you can hear his soft snoring as you stay still. His body probably going to ache so bad after this.

Your hands are twitching, wanting to caress his head but you hold back that thought, clenching your fists. You can only take this time to take in his features as he sleeps, wishing things were simpler but you get up from the sofa silently after watching him for awhile before you make any stupid decisions.

He must be in a deep sleep because he does not even move even after the rustling that you made on the sofa. You grab your rifle and get out of the cabin to check on the horses and be on watch before it’s time for you to wake Joel up. The cold air that suddenly hit you as you step out, gave you the shivers so you adjust your jacket right away, zipping it all the way up to keep yourself warm. Gripping the rifle tight, you keep your guard up as you look around for potential threats.

You didn’t find anything amiss as you make your way to the shed so once you are nearby, you sling your rifle back on your shoulders to open the shed door. The horses greet you with a few nickers as soon as they notice you coming in.You smile while giving them a couple of firm pats on their shoulders, rubbing their sides and even nuzzle your face against the neck of your horse, finding some comfort in it. Then, you make sure once again that everything is settled and ready to go.

You sit down at the corner of the shed, somewhere near the door that you left slightly ajar. Still reeling in the relaxation of the morning, you observe the horses across the other side of the shed. Once you realise that you should get back to Joel, you hear a strange noise not too far away, With no time wasted, you move cautiously to the door, hands gripping the rifle as your heartbeat starts to rise.

There isn’t much that you could see as you take a peep through the space left open by the door. You squint your eyes to see a few figures through the soft fluttering snow so you bring the rifle up and point towards them. You place your cheek by the stock of the rifle and look through the scope to have a clearer view. This time, there are shivers running down your spine, not from the cold but from what you see.

Your eyes widen as you take in the clickers approaching the cabin house. You should have guessed it from their erratic movements. There are three of them that you can count in your sight. Your mind is running in full speed, thinking the possibilities that you can take from this point onwards. Joel is probably in the house, still deep in sleep and they are coming in hot.

Without much thought, you take a few controlled breaths before shooting at one of them. Headshot, it falls to the ground, dead. The other two changes their direction towards the shed and started to pick up the speed, sprinting. The horses behind you are grunting noisily, restless after hearing the gunshot but that didn’t distract you from hitting the targets that are coming. The remaining two clickers finally went down after taking a couple of shots to their bodies and heads.

“Fuckin’ hell” you whisper under your breath as you look back at the horses, checking if they are okay.

You continue to take a few deep breaths before opening the door and steps out of the shed carefully to go back to Joel. As soon as you do that, you hear snarling coming from your right and you turn to see another group of clickers, only a few metres away, heading towards you.

“Oh shit!” You exclaim before making a run in the opposite direction, towards the woods.

You turn back a few times to take a few shots at the clickers, successfully getting two of them. There are five more on your heels, still charging towards you.

“JOOOEEELLLL!” You shout for him as loud as you can, multiple times, as you try to keep the distance and kill the clickers.

Luring them towards you, you can only hope Joel wakes up to get them from behind.

“Cmon Joel,” you beg to no one but yourself, “wake up!” You scream helplessly.

As if Joel could telepathically read your mind, you spot him over the shoulders of the clickers, coming out of the house frantically. Then, you hear a few gunshots which brings you a slight relief that he is awake finally.

Now that he is up, you plan to get back to him but you have to make it past the remaining two clickers that are still alive. You need to reload the rifle but with their arms flailing, trying to claw at you, you are not able to do it. In a haste, you duck down to get the knife that you had strapped in your boot. Popping the blade out, you stab one in the head, twisting the knife before pulling it out in one swift motion. One more kill.

Joel is making his way to where you are at while shooting the ones that are coming for him. In a blink, the two clickers drop dead at his feet as his running speed starts to increase towards you, worried. He sees you stabbing one of them in the head before dodging the arm of the other one that tries to attack you.

You avoid all of the aggressive flailing of its arms and move around it to run towards Joel. You take a couple steps but you didn’t notice the large roots of the surrounding trees which are covered in snow, resulting in you tripping and falling head first onto a rock. This causes Joel to scream your name in a bellowing voice, his stomach drops, seeing the scene that is unfolding in front of his eyes.

You tried to move but the overwhelming pounding in your head from the fall makes you freeze. With your head down on the ground, you slowly bring your hands up to clutch your head in pain. You can faintly hear the clicking behind you as you are lying on your stomach. You close your eyes shut, with a pained hiss as you think that this is the last moment of your life before getting bit. However, as you lay there helplessly, you didn’t feel any biting but only the throbbing at the side of your head.

Suddenly, you feel a pair of strong hands grabbing your arms, which causes you to flinch. Joel flips you around slowly, resting your head on one of his thighs as you look up at him. He looks down at you with wide eyes that are examining your face quickly and mouth slightly ajar as he takes long, dragged breaths. He moves your hair away from your face and checks out the cut from the fall with the touch of a feather. You feel warm liquid trickling down your head as his finger accidentally grazes the pained area which makes you scrunch your face and whimpers.

“I know, I know. You’re going to be okay.” He says in a reassuring voice.

In your head, you want to say something sarcastic like, ‘Took you long enough’ but all that comes out from your mouth is just unintelligible mumbling because of the concussion which takes the articulation out of you.

“Can you move?” He asks with a raspy voice, eyes boring into yours.

You nod slightly with a weak voice, “Yeah.”

The both of you get up slowly with one of his hands holding your arm and the other, around your waist. You pause after standing up, taking a moment before moving to stabilise yourself. Your vision is kind of blurry but you push through the dizziness while still holding onto Joel. You can see your bright red blood in contrast to the shallow white snow on the ground. With him by your side, not letting go of your waist, you stagger back to the shed, passing by all the dead bodies of clickers.

You reach the shed without much complications with the help of Joel. He sits you down on the stool that you were sitting at not too long ago before the disaster that you were in. The headache is still prominent but you don’t want to be a burden and prolong the journey back to Jackson. Not only that, you start to feel some parts of your body aching from the fall as your adrenaline level starts to reduce. You are sure there are going to be some bruises and wounds on your body from the impact of the fall but you are more worried about your bleeding head.

Meanwhile, Joel rushes out of the shed to check the house again if there’s anything that has been left behind. He comes storming back to the shed glancing at you to see how you are keeping up. You are taking deep breaths to try and ease the pain but it doesn’t really help you. He goes straight to his bag to grab some stuffs out of it and comes kneeling in front of you, eyes levelling with yours. The whole time your face is scowling from the throbbing pain, it’s difficult for you to keep your eyes open.

He pours some water on a small towel to clean the blood that is smearing the side of your face, down to your chin. You open your eyes slightly, taking in the way his forehead creases, eyebrows knitted and eyes unblinking as he cleans your face gently. However, you don’t have the luxury of time to be lost in him when the ache keeps on increasing. He takes your hand and gives you a small cloth, telling you to keep pressing it on the open cut to slow down the bleeding. You hesitantly do so, sucking in a breath due to the stinging from the contact. He wraps your head with a long shredded piece of cloth to help it stay intact.

“Eyes on me.” You hear him say once he finishes with it.

You look straight at him, biting your lip.

“I’m going to get you on the horse, okay? We’re going back to Jackson right now as fast as we can.” He explains to you in a low, steady voice, grounding you.

“Okay.” You whisper in a strained voice.

He leans in closer to cup your face with his gloved hands that warms your cheek, “You’re going to be okay. I got you so just hold on for a bit longer.”

HIs eyes darting between the both of your eyes for a few seconds before getting up to get everything set and ready to go. Once everything is ready, he move the horses outside. You follow suit with staggering steps as you approach him. He gets a hold of you the moment he notices you walking up to him without his help. Somehow, he manage to get you up on the horse and he is seated closely right behind you. His arms surround you as he holds on to the reins while his thighs cage your legs. The warmth emitting from the closeness of his body engulfs you all of a sudden as he nudges the horse to move.

About 30 minutes of riding, you start to feel way more dizzy. The continuous motion of riding mixed with the blinding daylight is causing you to feel lightheaded and nauseous. You cannot help but to lean back on Joel’s chest, resting your head on one of his shoulders, as you grimace in all of the sickening symptoms you are facing. Your hands reach out to grab whatever parts of him that you can, his thighs and his arms, clenching it tightly. Nails that are covered by your gloves can still be felt digging into his clothes.

“I know, baby, I know.” You feel his warm breath at the top of your head, not even registering him calling you baby as you wince, eyes keeping shut.

“Cmon, stay with me.” He murmurs with a wobbly voice in anxiety, seeing you in excruciating pain.

Your hearing is already reduced and whatever Joel says sounds muffled to you. All you can hear is the rapid heartbeat of yours. Within seconds, you lose consciousness and your body goes limp. Joel uses his arms to keep you steady while still holding on to the reins. He calls out your name louder for a few more times but you did not respond, causing him to slow down to check your pulse. He removes his glove to touch your neck and he feels the coldness of your body against his hand. After making sure that you are still breathing, he picks up the speed, arms circling your waist as his front sticks to your back like glue to share his body warmth with yours.

Throughout the journey back, you are in and out of consciousness from the overwhelming pain and the blood loss. Joel had stop multiple times to give you a few drops of water so that you would not be dehydrated. It is all a blur to you and you just wish to be back in Jackson already.

“TOMMY!” Joel’s yelling makes everyone in the nearby vicinity turn their heads. He shouts for Tommy as soon as the gates open.

Tommy, Maria and a few others patrollers are waiting by the gates as they were starting to get worried, not seeing any glimpse of you and Joel a few hours ago and now, it’s already getting dark. When the gates open, they rush to Joel to help you off the horse. Eddie, your previous patrol partner before Joel, carries you to the infirmary with Maria beside him. Joel gets off the horse, letting the other people to take over the horses and supplies and hurries to follow where you are brought to.

“What happened?” Tommy asks while running back towards Eddie with Joel.

“We were attacked by some clickers back at the cabin house.” Joel answers with eyes fixed on your form being carried by Eddie.

“Did she get bit?”

“I don’t think so,” Joel blinks, eyebrows furrowed.

“You didn’t check?” Tommy asks with a louder voice than before.

Joel didn’t respond, his jaws clenched. He knows he should have checked whether you got bit but he wasn’t thinking clearly. Getting you somewhere safe was his only priority at that time.

“Joel-“

“I didn’t check.” He stops outside of the infirmary doors and turns to Tommy, glaring with fiery eyes.

“She was bleeding out from the head, Tommy, and I can only think of bringing her back here safely.” Joel argues, already stressed about you and now his brother is trying to lecture him about his mistake.

He goes in, pushing the doors aggressively, leaving Tommy to chase after him. He approaches your bed which are already crowded with the only doctor and a couple of nurses on duty in Jackson, checking your condition. He joins Maria and Eddie that are waiting a few steps away from the foot of the bed. Joel cannot keep his eyes away from you. His heart is still racing from the adrenaline rush. You are still unconscious and the blood is trickling down from your head as the doctor loosens the stained alternative bandage to check the open wound to mend it later on. The nurses continue to check the other parts of your body for other wounds or bite marks, just in case. To check, they have to undress you and that is when Maria guides the group of them watching, to wait outside at the waiting area.

Eddie has to go off to check on the horses and the supplies that were brought back, telling Maria to update him on your status. Maria and Tommy thank him for his help while Joel gives him a silent nod. His arms folded while he leans on one foot to the other, pacing back and forth from time to time, staring at the door to the ward room. He looks back on what happened back at the cabin house and he thinks the state that you are in right now is somehow his fault. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep and let you fight the clickers by yourself. He should have protected you from this situation. He runs his fingers through his hair, scratching his head as he feels guilty.

Tommy and Maria doesn’t say a word, seeing Joel already agitated from you being injured. The three of them wait in silence before the doctor comes out to let them know how you are holding up.

“Her heartbeat is stable now. I’ve already stitched the open wound on her head to stop the bleeding. She must have taken a hard impact of a fall seeing the bruises on the left side of her body, especially the shoulder and the arm. Luckily, there isn’t any broken bone or bite marks. For now, we’ll keep on looking after her and wait til she wakes up.” The doctor informs the three of them.

Joel rubs his face as he releases a sigh of relief knowing that you’re okay now. Maria and Tommy hold hands, comforting each other, relieved as well.

“Can I see her now?” Joel in a rush to get back to you after hearing everything from the doctor.

“Of course,” The doctor gives Joel a tight smile.

Joel goes back in to the room after murmuring his thanks to the doctor, not looking back.

“Thank you, Remy, as always.” Maria shakes Remy’s hands before walking hand in hand with Tommy to the ward room.

Joel pulls a chair close to your bed and sits on it, eyes fixed on you. The nurses has already changed you out of your clothes to a more comfortable patient gown. Your stitches is covered with a pad to keep it dry. He notices the red bruises on your shoulders that is peeking out of the gown and there are also a few scrapes on your arms like the doctor had said. He can feel his heart breaks a little, looking at your injuries. He raises his hand to swipe at your cheek gently, feeling your soft skin. He sees your eyes flutter slightly from the touch but still not opening awake.

Tommy clears his throat causing Joel to freeze from what he was doing. He glances back at Tommy and Maria who is observing him and clasps his hands together between his thighs. Shying away from the looks of them, Joel keeps his eyes on your face.

“We’re glad the both of you are okay.” Maria speaks to Joel.

Joel as usual, doesn’t speak but gives a slight nod to what Maria said.

“She’ll be fine Joel. Don’t stress yourself out more than necessary.” Tommy tries to comfort his brother who is clearly defeated from the hours of travelling and tending to your unconscious body.

Tommy and Maria stays there for a while more before leaving to let Joel be alone with you.

“Do you want me to bring you dinner?” Tommy asks him.

“I’m good,” Joel shakes his head, not having the appetite to eat.

“Alright. Do you want me to tell Ellie that you’re here?”

Joel looks up at Tommy, momentarily realises that he was not thinking about Ellie at all, “Let her know that we're fine. I don’t want her to stay up waiting for me, I’ll see her in the morning.” Tommy places his hand on Joel’s shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze and heads out with Maria, leaving Joel alone, keeping his eyes on you.

The following morning, Joel is dozing off in his seat beside you, heads nodding awake time and time again. He clearly needs a proper sleep but he is fighting it off, wanting to be by your side when you wake up. With half-lidded eyes, he looks at you who is still in the same position as yesterday night. Throughout the night, he has pull his chair even closer to you. Holding your hand which seems to fit right with his, caressing your head when he hears your little whimpers, softly running his hands through your hair. He wants to keep doing that but it will be even better when you’re not lying sick in bed and is actually awake.

He stands up carefully to go home and freshen up before coming back to look after you. He also have to explain to Ellie about what had happened so she wouldn’t be worried. He gives you a last long look, eyes sunken deeply in sadness before turning around to leave while the nurses give morning greetings to him as he goes.

Not long after, your eyes slowly opens to an unfamiliar ceiling. You can feel a slight ache on your head, not remembering what happened when it suddenly hits you. The memory of the supply run, the clickers and the way you fell resulting in you being out of consciousness. Then, a face comes to your mind. Joel. Joel! Where is he? Where is this place?

You hear footsteps coming towards you. You try to get up from the bed but your body is too weak so you give up in doing so. A familiar face comes into view and you realises that she is one of the nurses in Jackson. She looks away from her board to see you looking at her with confusion on you face.

“Oh! You’re awake. Great to see you again.” She smiles at you, coming closer to check how you are doing.

She presses a stethoscope to your chest to listen to your heartbeat while you are still confused on how you are back in Jackson. She continues to check your eyes and your hearing before letting you know about your health state right now.

“Everything is good but you will still feel dizzy and nauseous, don’t worry, it’s normal after an injury like yours. Your muscles will still be weak and your body will ache for awhile. These symptoms can last for a couple days and up to a few weeks, depends on the how serious the injury is. You can be discharged tomorrow but we advise that you have someone to check up on you, in case anything happens.” She explains to you calmly.

You on the other hand, are at loss of words as you listen to her, still disoriented from just waking up a couple of minutes ago.

“I don’t have anyone to ask. I only have myself.” In a soft voice, you uttered defeatedly. You do not want to be another burden to someone else.

“I’m sure Joel Miller doesn’t mind it.” She mention casually, handing you a cup of water to drink. You pause for a moment, blinking at her blankly and takes the cup.

“Joel?” You stammers out his name, not expecting him to be mentioned.

“Yeah. He was here all night. It was so sweet to see the grumpiest man in Jackson caring for someone.” She gives you a pleased smile, “He left shortly before you were awake.”

You glance at the seat by your bed, knowing he was sitting right there for the night. Your heart skips a beat, imagining him looking at you for that whole time. You’re in your own thoughts when the nurse speaks again.

“Rest up for now. Just call for me if you need anything, alright?” She gives you a knowing smile as if she knows that you are thinking of the man that was just here.

“Thank you.” You give her a thin-lipped smile and thank her for the help.

She leaves you alone in the ward with conflicted feelings. It’s so overwhelming having these different feelings all at once. Before, anger was the forefront feeling that derives you away from Joel while still having a small amount of affection for him that you try to ignore. Then, he confused you with his actions and words, tugging your heart a little bit from seeing the change of his heart. Right now, he has saved you from going into the other side and you remember seeing the look of concern etched on his face when you were going through it. You know that he is definitely not faking it, feeling the sincerity from him in the last 24 hours.

Joel is walking back to the infirmary after washing up and having a short breakfast with Ellie. She was devastated to hear what went down during the supply run and told Joel that she is going to visit you after school. She did not say a word to Joel about how distracted he was during the breakfast. She knows it must be you that is affecting his mood and she cannot do anything about it except not taking more of his time and let him go back to the infirmary. To you.

In his hands, he carries a small bag containing a vegetable soup that he quickly cooked for breakfast with Ellie. He walks in and goes straight to the ward but stopping immediately in his tracks. From the open door, he sees that you are awake, smiling so brightly, not because of him but because of the guy that is sitting on the chair beside your bed. The chair that he was sitting on while rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

You are holding on to the flowers that Emile gave you. The both of you are laughing about something and his heart clenches hearing your laughter. The last he heard of your voice was when you are whimpering in pain and all that he wishes, then, was to hear your gentle and playful voice again. He lowers his head, the hopeful light in his eyes gone as he turns around feeling crushed. He approaches one of the nurses and passes them the breakfast that he brought for you, telling them to give it to you before leaving the infirmary.

While you are busy catching up with Emile, another nurse comes in to give you a bowl of soup. It smells delicious and you cannot wait to dig in as you are starving from the amount of energy that you lost for the past 24 hours.

“This smells delicious. Thank you.” You cheerily says in exclamation.

“Mr. Miller wants you to have this for breakfast.” The young lady informs you with an innocent look in her eyes.

In shock, your head snaps towards her with wide eyes, “Which Miller?”

“Joel Miller,” she looks at you questioningly.

“He just dropped this off?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You peer at the open door, seeing no sight of him while you keep staring. You wonder why did he not just come in and give you the soup himself. Is he busy with another duty? Did he see Emile and was not happy? Why would he go out of his way to give you breakfast?

“Anything else that I can do for you?” The nurse asks looking at you, confused with your reaction.

“No. It’s fine. Thank you.” You give a forced smile at her and your eyes drifting to the doorway as she leaves. You cannot help but to look at the doorway, wanting to see Joel but you are still too shy to admit it to yourself.

“What’s wrong?” Emile’s voice snaps you out of your trance from the doorway.

“Nothing.” You mumble and start to eat the soup made by Joel.

Emile squints his eyes, sensing that you are hiding something but he lets it go, seeing you gobbling the soup down in hunger.

The next morning, you are accompanied by Emile on your day of discharge. You told him that you can go back home today and he offered to walk you home. You are struggling because of the body ache that you are having and also the sudden waves of dizziness if you move too fast. It took you a couple of minutes to be walking without holding on to him anymore. Your stubborn ass is resilient to not hold onto him as you continue walking slowly at your own pace. The three minute walk to your house from the infirmary at your usual speed is now delayed to almost 10 minutes including the intervals of you pausing to let the dizziness or pain pass before moving again.

Joel is sitting by his bedroom window that is facing your house. He knows that you are being discharged today from what Ellie had told him after her visit. If Emile hadn’t offered, he would have gone to help you, given his free time after the supply run. He sees you struggling to walk with Emile by your side with a worried look on his face. For a moment, anger fills Joel’s entire body when he sees Emile not helping you at all but he eventually calms down after noticing how you are holding your hand out when Emile comes closer. He scoffs, a small curl on side of his lips as he shakes his head. What is he going to do with that stubborn head of yours? If he could, he would have already picked you up and carried you in the house.

Emile leaves after making sure you are back in your house safely and you reassuring him that you will be fine, not needing anymore of his help. You haven’t got the chance to eat something yet so you move the kitchen to make a small sandwich for breakfast, already tired from moving too much. You slump down on the sofa after eating, immersing yourself in the comfort of your home without any disturbances. You lay there, eyes slowly blinking heavily, letting your body relax and eventually you are deep in sleep.

A few hours later, you hear knocking on your door, partially awaken from the sound but you are still not moving.

Knock, Knock, Knock

It is louder this time. Grumbling as you get up from the couch, body still weak. You shout as loud as you can saying that you are coming to get the door. You take your time to reach the door and opening it to no one on the other side except a small bag on the floor. You look around and you spot the broad back of Joel slipping into his house, closing the door without looking back. You pick the bag up to find out the contents of it and the mix of nutty and savoury smell of warm avocado toast that hits you almost makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head.

You bring it inside to the dining table and devours it, smiling to yourself. Smiling because of how good the toast was or maybe because of the person behind the toast. You want to thank him for saving and taking care of you when you were out of it. The ice in your heart is slowly melting away, recalling the moments of his newfound vulnerability that he allows you to see. The way he talks to you calmly instead of the usual hostility in his tone when he speaks to you previously. You remember the cold piercing eyes that was replaced with round melancholic eyes that captivates when he looks at you. In your heart, you know that he might just hit the nail right on the head soon and earn that forgiveness from you.

It went on like that for the next couple of days. You will open the door to a bag of packed food whether it would be breakfast or lunch or dinner. It is obviously from Joel, 100%, no doubt. He for sure makes a run home once he hears you coming, taking advantage of your slowed down speed. Every time you open the door, you either sees him already going into his house or already halfway back, walking nonchalantly as he takes a couple of glances back at you.

He comes knocking when there is no one visiting you at that time, knowing when you have not eaten your meal yet. You’ve been trying to catch him, reading his pattern and always sneaking looks out of your window to see if he is coming. You’re in luck this afternoon when you caught sight of him taking big strides towards your house, feeling confident that he is going to get away with it as usual. He does not know that the pain in your head had subsided marginally and your body is stronger now from all the time that you took to rest. Quicker than he is, you are standing behind the front door, waiting for him. Quietly giggling to yourself, expecting to see his shocked face. Unbeknownst to him, this has been a game to you while spending time alone in the house.

You hear the scrapes of his heavy boots and the creaking of the floorboards as he goes up the stairs. Your heart is racing so fast that you can hear its pounding in your ears. He is right on the other side of the door. You don’t even know what you’re going to say to him. He stops, pausing for a beat, then raises his hand to knock on the door. As soon as you hear a knock, you turn the handle, opening the door wide.

Joel’s brows shoot as high as possible, eyes widening as he stays still from the unexpected situation. His arm is still in midair, his mouth parted, not knowing what to say. On his other hand, he is holding the bag of meal that he had cooked for you. You look up at him with a playful glint in your eyes, appearing to be innocent but your mouth is twitching, trying not to laugh seeing him flustered.

“Hi.” You greet him, voice croaked from resisting the laughter that is bubbling in your throat.

He is still speechless, eyes blinking rapidly trying to think of an excuse for his appearance. You wait for his answer but clears your throat instead when he doesn’t respond.

“What do you got for me today?” You point at the bag of meal that he is holding awkwardly.

“Uh, nothing special. Here.” He passes the bag over to you and you take it, fingers brushing his in that split second.

“Thank you, Joel.” You thank him with a small smile, locking eyes with him for a few seconds before looking down at your feet. He grunts a reply, scratching the back of his neck as he fidgets, eyes darting everywhere else except you.

“I think I should go now. Enjoy your meal.” He breaks the awkward silence, not making eye contact as he turns around to head back home.

“Joel.” You quickly call out after him which makes him stop and look back at you.

“Do you want to come in?” You suggested without giving it a thought, not wanting him to leave.

“Sure.” He replies after contemplating for a moment.

You invite him in, heart still racing as you head to the dining table to place the food down. He follows after you slowly, taking in the insides of your house. This is the first time he is in your house and he is observing every single detail of it, knowing this is your comfort place. This is a part of you that he gets to see for the first time so he is going to cherish this opportunity that is given to him.

You’re in the kitchen, washing your hands, grabbing the plate and utensils to place them down at the dining table. You turn towards Joel who is still checking out your place, standing by your living room couch.

“Have you eaten already?”

“Yeah.” He mutters, eyes locked onto the shelves at the front wall of your living room where there is a remaining carved piece of wood that you didn’t put away.

“Can I get for you coffee?” you offer.

He turns around and steps closer to the dining table while keeping his eyes on you.

“That would be lovely, thank you.” He nods before taking a seat opposite of yours.

Joel’s eyes drifting together with your movements as you make the coffee for him. He is pleased to be in your presence even though it is nerve wrecking for him but finally talking to you again makes his heart blooms with happiness. He schools his features back to a composed face when you approach the table with drinks.

“Thank you again for the food.” You thank him again before taking a bite of the steak and mashed potatoes that he prepared for you today. He gives you his signature nod as a reply.

Your eyes widen as you take the first bite of the meat and gawks at Joel, “It’s delicious!”

“Glad you like it.” He shrugs his shoulders, tipping his head forward slightly, feeling smug from your praise.

“What the fuck. It’s really good.” You cannot believe it and keeps on eating.

Joel brings the mug to his face, sipping on his coffee to cover the smile that is breaking into his face after seeing your raw reaction to his cooking. The way you react reminds him of Ellie and he finds it so adorable. He scans the side of your head that is covered with a new gauze for the stitch and notices the red bruises on your arms that is fading to brown as it heals. He hated seeing you in that kind of pain and it was gut wrenching to witness that, not able to soothe the pain away for you. He is relieved to see you smile again and this time because of him.You finish the meal while he sits there watching you eat with warm and focused eyes as you steal glances at him.

He insisted that you have a seat at the sofa as he washes the dishes for you. You did argued with him to let you do it yourself but you cannot defeat the man that is way more hardheaded than you. Staring at the back of the man that broke your heart two months ago who is now washing your dishes in your kitchen, you would have never seen this coming. You selfishly want to see more of him, shamelessly admitting it to yourself.

"Uh, I should go now." Joel rubbing his hands on his jeans, wiping the leftover wetness as he comes out of the kitchen area, towards you.

"Already?" your brows furrowed unknowingly, standing up slowly to see him out.

Joel cocks his head to the side, hearing the disappointment in your voice. He moves closer to you, heart beating rapidly, knowing that you want to spend more time with him.

"I'm on patrol duty with your temporary replacement soon." He explains.

"Oh. Hopefully you don't scare him away while I'm gone." You tease him.

He huffs before replying you with a smirk, "We'll see bout that.”

Just before he steps out of the house, you grab his wrist instinctively, turning him around to face you again.

“I really want to thank you for everything that you did for me. I appreciate it and it means a lot to me that you had my back. I’m sorry if I was a troublesome-“

“You weren’t,” Joel interrupts, twisting his wrist to hold your hand instead, “you never were.” He whispers, still shy to convey his true feelings.

His eyes are expressive with so many unspoken words as he gazes into yours, instinctively rubbing circles on the back of your hands like he did in the infirmary, waiting for you to be awake. But you don’t know that. Don’t know about the delicate touches that he leaves on your skin that night.

“Also, don’t leave the food by itself in front of my door. Next time, say hi to me at least.” You complain.

“Yes ma’am.” He give you a once over before letting go of your hand, “take care.” He heads out to make his way to the stables, looking back at you again who gives him a small timid wave. You notice his smile twisted with a smile before he snaps his head away, hiding his blushing face away from you. He walks away with lighter steps as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Surrounded by the books, you are sitting at one of the tables in the library with Emile. There is no sign of other people this morning causing the library to be filled with serene silence. The sunlight from the window, pierce through the gaps of the bookshelves, softly hitting the tables. Emile is rambling about his new read excitedly and you are listening to him intently, interested in where the story is going. It goes on from sharing stories with each other to talking about usual random stuffs until Emile brings up Joel in the conversation.

“How’s it going with Joel?” He asks in a cheery voice.

“What do you mean?” You release a laugh awkwardly.

“You seem livelier for the past few days and I thought Joel could be the reason for that.” His eyes are bright as he keeps the eye contact with you.

“What makes you say that?”

“I overheard that Joel has been cooking for you and that you guys even eat together for the past few days at your house.”

You smack your lips, nodding your head as you look away. You don’t talk to Emile about Joel so it’s kinda embarrassing to admit it to him. Since it’s out in the open, you use this time to tell the truth.

“You are a good friend, Emile. It’s comfortable to have conversations with you. I get to talk to you about anything and you are one of my emotional support in Jackson. I’m happy that we became friends.” You express to him with a sense of guilt, assuming it might hurt him that you put him in the friend zone. Your eyes lowering to your fidgeting hands on the table.

“Is this the part where you say that you don’t have feelings for me?” He questions with a clear voice.

You blink blankly at him, taken aback by his direct question. Your mouth parts slowly, wanting to speak but he continues to talk, sensing your faint hesitation.

“It’s okay. I know you are just being friendly with me without any other intentions, whether it’s good or bad. I see how you react when he’s around you and it’s pretty obvious, making me think that I’m stupid for not noticing it at first.”

“You’re not stupid,” you deny his negative thought.

“But I do enjoy your company and I’m really glad that we became friends as well.” His face beaming with a smile that infects you to mirror his.

You hold out a hand for him to shake on. He takes it and gives a firm handshake.

“We’re officially besties now” You states with a bright smile.

“Isn’t Ellie your bestie?”

“Okay, you’re officially my second bestie now.” You correct yourself.

“Whatever, tell me about you and Joel.” Emile still curious about the two of you, wiggling his eyebrows as he sent a playful smirk towards you.

“Oh shut up.” You pushes his hand away, rolling your eyes, faking the irritation. You know that if you talk about Joel now, you cannot control your expressions. He barks out a laugh seeing your reaction which makes you laugh as well.

Still giggling as Emile teases you, the both of you hear the door open and standing there is the man of the hour himself, Joel Miller. Stunned, you just freeze in your seat, gawking at him. You notice the cloud of breath coming out of his mouth as he exhales. His eyes studying your face and drifts towards Emile who is sitting opposite of you. His eyelids flutters slightly before lowering his gaze towards the floor.

“Sorry for interrupting.” He mutters, rubbing his gloved hands together before turning around to leave the library.

You stand up, eyes still trained on the door that was just shut.

“Go.” Emile looks up at you.

“I’ll see you again.” You take off without looking back.

Joel is dragging his feet back to his house, jaws clenching as the image of you and Emile having a good time laughing is stuck on his mind. In the span of few days of him checking up on you and having meals together, he forgets about Emile who has always been treating you nicely. How can he compete with a man who hasn’t been mean to you and break your heart?

“Joel! Wait up!” Your yelling halts him in his tracks. He looks over his shoulder and see you trying to keep up with him. He is still worried about you moving that fast, anxious that it will trigger dizziness in you again. He waits for you patiently, facing you with his head hanging low as he looks at his boots in the snow.

Another pair of boots comes into his view, opposite of him. He looks up to your face, seeing you panting, trying to catch your breath. How can you still look this cute standing in front of him while you gasp for air? He just wants to hold your face with his hands, warming your face that is growing cold.

“Where are you going?” You ask him.

“Home.” He gives a short reply, glancing towards the street.

“It’s cold. You should get back inside. I didn’t mean to disturb your time together.” His eyes darting over your shoulders at the library.

“You didn’t disturb anything. Were you looking for me?” You dismisses what he just said.

“I brought breakfast for us to eat together but you weren’t there.” He tries to be casual about it but you caught the sad look in his eyes.

“Let’s go then.” You walk ahead, leaving him to follow after you.

Joel picking at his leftover food aimlessly is bothering you. He is more quiet this morning, keeping his eyes on his plate most of the time. You call him out on his behaviour, not standing it anymore.

“What’s with the long face?”

“Nothing,”

“Don’t lie to me.” You firmly said.

He pauses for a moment before answering you, “You still seeing the librarian?” Still not making eye contact.

“I told you that he’s just my friend, Joel.” You reiterate that point again.

He nods his head solemnly, his lips still in a thin line. He leans back, not having the appetite to finish the rest of his food. You don’t believe that he agrees with that statement.

“You jealous?” You can’t help but grin, raising an eyebrow towards him.

“Get that smile off your face.” He rolls his eyes at you. You still don’t get why he is shy to admit it when he literally said that it hurts him to see you and Emile together, back at The Tipsy Bison.

“I sense jealousy.” You said in a singsong voice as you pick up the your plates and his, going to the kitchen sink.

Joel immediately follows and stands beside you as you wash the plates.

“You’re so infuriating, d’you know that. I told you that I will do the dishes.” He grumbles, annoyed that you didn’t listen to him.

“Well, too bad. I took them first.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Give me that. I’ll dry it.” He takes the washed plate from you, wiping it a dry cloth.

The both of you stand there, shoulders and arms touching as you focus on the task at hand. He lightly shoves you with his arm suddenly which makes you look up at him, frowning. He fake innocence as he wipes the utensils. You pushes him back, stronger than he did but he doesn’t budge. Not satisfied, you keep trying to shove him to the side but you fail miserably. You huff, feeling unfair by the significant difference of strength. Giving up, you continue to clean the cups but didn’t expect him to continue his disturbance by nudging you with his hip.

You cup your hands with water and splashes his face with it. His eyes are closely shut, his fringe sticks to his forehead, soaked with water and it’s running down his face. Droplets of water forms at his chin which drips onto the front of his shirt. Your nose flaring as you try to suppress your laughter but you couldn’t resist it anymore when he opens his eyes to look at you. You back away from him slowly before running away, laughing at him.

“Come here.” He chases after you right away and you didn’t get too far before you feel his arms wrapped around your waist from behind. You squeal as he lifts you slightly before letting you down and turn you around to face him, his hands clasps on your lower back.

He shakes his head vigorously, like a dog trying to dry itself, water droplets splattering on your face from it. You cover your face while still giggling at him. After he stops, you lower down your hand to his chest. A big grin is plastered on his face as he looks down at you, bewitching you with his dreamy and enchanting expression. You are entranced by him, spotting the dimples that you rarely see.

“Don’t mess with me.” He tries to warn you with a smile tugging on side of his face.

“Oooh, that is so threatening. I’m so scared.” You sarcastically joke which earns you a scoff from him.

You stay in his arms like that for a few more seconds. The both of you are not saying anything as you stare into each other’s eyes. He licks his lips and for a moment, you think that he might lean closer to you but disappointingly, he lets you go.

He clears his throat, “I better get going. Patrol duty again.” Avoiding eye contact.

“How is he by the way?” Curious about your temporary replacement.

“Not bad.” He shrugs.

“Wow. That is a compliment in your books.” You are surprised by his comment.

“Yeah. Better than the girl that keeps annoying me.”

“Get out.” You jokingly says, passing him his jacket that is on the couch and with your hands on his back, you keep pushing him towards the door as he tries to fight back while softly laughing at your antics.

He puts on his jacket and faces you again. Bending lower to meet you on your eye level, he tucks a stray hair on your ear and the graze of his fingers are burning your ears. You blink excessively, your heart stopping for a beat when his eyes meet yours.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart.” He whispers to you, eyes twinkling as if they are the stars. You can’t stop the rapid beating of your heart even after he gets out of your house, leaving you dumbfounded and heated.

The Tipsy Bison is rowdy tonight with the residents of Jackson celebrating the bartender’s birthday. Kyle is the most loved by the people because of his endless kindness to everyone around him. You are seated in a booth with your usual crowd, Tommy, Maria and Joel. Unfortunately, Emile is unable to join as he finishes up his work in the library. Joel’s warm, strong thigh is pressing into yours even though there is more than enough space for the both on you on one side of the booth.

Joel has changed slightly, opening more of himself up to you. You get to see him bantering with Tommy over petty things like little boys which is what they are doing now. Arguing about who will beat whom in a arm wrestling match. You and Maria has seen this behaviour too many times that the both of you just shake your heads, sighing.

Recently, Joel has been brave to steal a couple of touches, not even hiding it anymore. He would tuck your stray hair or pat your head when he compliments you on something that you have done a good job at or placing his hand on your lower back to guide you somewhere and he takes every opportunity that he can to touch you. Like what he is doing now with his thigh, just to feel you there beside him.

A group of drunk, rowdy men walks past the booth before one of them stops to look at you. You sense his gaze and your head turns to look at him. It is the asshole from the other night, Jack. His eyes are heavy as he steps closer to the booth, clearly drunk.

“Oh look who it is!” He exclaims when he recognises you.

You don’t say a word, glaring at him as he drunkenly spews out insults at you again. The Miller brothers stop their argument and snaps their head towards Jack’s voice.

“Aren’t you Emile’s little mommy?” He says in a mocking tone, making you squeeze for fists. Joel scans your scowling face first before he notices your balled up fists on your thighs. His hand hovers your fist before cupping it gently, signalling you that he got your back.

“You threw him to the side after you get your fun and now you’re sucking off Joel Miller. What a slut.” He slurs on without shame.

Luckily for him, you are sitting on the inside so you cannot lunge at him to rip his face off and beat him to death like you wanted. Instead, Joel brings his fist to Jack’s face, rocking his jaw in an instant. Jack stumbles backwards, crashing on the nearby tables and chairs before falling to the ground, making people turn their heads to the commotion. Everybody stills, watching the event that is unfolding in front of their eyes. Joel cages him with his thighs, throwing punches at his face. Tommy gets up from his seat, holding Joel back before it gets worse. Joel stands and presses one foot on Jack’s chest, heaving from the punches that he threw.

“Last time, I told you to fuck off before I break your jaw. It seems like you really need it to break to get it into your fuckin’ head.” He growls at Jack that is looking up at him with eyes that are clouded with terror.

“You talk about my girl like that again, I will not hesitate to end you.” He warns with eyes that could kill Jack right there on the spot. “Now fuck off!” He spits at Jack after removing his foot away. Jack scrambles away with his friends, holding them for support.

Joel stands there, reeling in what he had just done. The crowd slowly gets going again, knowing that Jack had that coming for messing around with Joel. Joel is still pissed off at Jack and if no one had stopped him, he would have already killed that son of a bitch. His hand flinches when he feels a hand touching his. It is you that notices his trembling hand. You bring it up to your face, seeing the blood on his knuckles. You frown, not liking the fact that he got hurt from trying to protect you. You go back to the booth to let Maria and Tommy know that you’re bringing Joel back home to treat the cuts on his hand.

You drag him out of the bar with his other hand, heading back to your house. He follows you obediently, walking hand in hand, even though he is still fuelled with anger. Stomping his feet, he keeps on grumbling insults about Jack and wanting to beat the shit out of him. You glance at him, seeing his fiery eyes and downturned lips as he continues to curse the asshole. A smile appears on your face as you listen to his complaints. You are still replaying the words in your head again and again. He called you his girl. It brings butterflies in your stomach just by thinking about it.

You sat him down on your couch while you get the first aid kit. You pushes the coffee table close to the couch to sit on the edge of it, facing him with your legs in between his. You place his hand on your thighs as you wipe the blood off his hand. After putting the ointment, you bandage his hand with a gauze pad available. The entire time you were focused on treating his wounds, he was studying your face, processing every single detail to memory.

"All done," you let go of his hand.

"Thank you."

"You didn't have to do that, y'know"

"I want to." He says with conviction. "I don't like him talking about you like that."

"But I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm not. This was nothing." he tries to minimise the level of his injury.

You narrow your eyes and he shrugs at you trying to say that it is true. You shake your head disapprovingly, tired of his stubbornness. In the quietness of the night, wanting him to calm down, an idea comes to your mind.

"Come, I got something I want to show you." you crosses over his thigh, wanting to go up the stairs.

He quickly grabs your hand, wanting you to guide him upstairs as you hold on to him. You blushes when he does that, still making your heart flutters. Swallowing his spit, nervous that you brought him to your room, he stands at your door just watching you opening your window. You climb out the window to sit at your tiled roof, looking back at him, urging him to join you.

He marches across your room to the window, poking his head out, "It's freezing."

"I know. Just come out for awhile. You won't die," you reassures him. "Or are you just a coward?"

That strikes a nerve in him as he clicks his tongue at you and asks you to move over to give him some space. He folds his body, bones cracking as he struggles to go through the window.

"Damn, you're old." Holding on to him as he goes through the window, teasing him about his bone cracking.

"Ha. Ha. Funny." He replies in a monotonous voice.

The both of you sat next to each other, looking into the darkness of the vast sky. Because it is not snowing heavily, the moon that is not blocked by the clouds, brighten the snow-covered landscapes with a soft glow. The faint twinkle of the stars, reflecting in Joel's glassy eyes as you blatantly stare at him.

"I would sit here especially during the summer nights to stargaze. The enlightenment you get when you let your body immerse within the beauty of the nature is like no other." you explain.

"They're gorgeous." Peering into your eyes as it seems like he's not talking about the stars but you instead.

You are lost in his shining eyes and so is he, in yours. All of a sudden, he blinks the unwavering eyes of his away, remembering something. He takes out something from the inside of his jacket that is small enough to fit in his hands. Opening his palm towards you, you find a horse chess piece sitting on it. You look up at him with questions in your eyes while he portrays a shy smile on his face, suggesting you to take it.

“Stop! This is the prettiest one I’ve ever seen. You made this?” Still surveying the piece in awe.

“Yeah. Look at the bottom.”

You flip it around and notices a small writing on it. You stop breathing for a moment, reminded of the guitar pick that you gave him two months ago. You keep staring at the words directing at you.

“I was contemplating between this and ‘Let me be your knight in shining armour’, y’know. Because of the horse. But it was too long for me to-“ He stammers while trying to elaborate but stops when you lay your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Joel. I love it.” You hold the chess piece in your hand, tightly. His heart jumps with elation, overjoyed by your words.

He whispers your name, enrapturing you to shift your eyes at him, still resting your head on his shoulder.

“I would undo every single thing that I’ve done or said that hurt your feelings, in a heartbeat if I could. I didn’t see you for who you are and it kills me that I wasted so much time being a prick when we could spend more time together instead. You never fail to fill my heart with kindness and love and I want to do the same for you. Will you let me do that for you?” He confesses to you.

“Who said you haven’t done that yet?” You batted your eyelashes at him.

His heart stops for a beat, staring down at your face that is only a few inches away. Your glossy eyes mirror his look of adoration and he can’t help but moves your hair out of your face, caressing your cheeks softly.

“Joel Miller, the grumpiest man to ever lived, is sitting on the roof with me, stargazing. Who would have thought?”

“Only because it’s with you.” His thumb rubbing, warming your cold cheeks as you lean more into his touch.

His face tilts down to yours, eyes roaming over your features and stops at your lips. You hold your breath as he moves closer, heart pounding with anticipation. You have been waiting for this moment, imagining many different ways of exploring his lips. Your body shivering as he pauses when his lips are almost touching yours.

“Can I kiss you?” He mutters, almost inaudible as he shifts his eyes back to yours for confirmation, his tongue poking out slightly to wet his lips at the same time.

“Now you want to be polite? Just kiss me already.” You pull him closer by the neck, gently pressing his lips to yours. His lips are electrifying to touch despite the softness of it. He continues to move and you follow, effortlessly flowing together like water. His arms that are pressing against your side, slides up your back, holding you close to him. You feel him smiling against your mouth as the kiss gets heated. You pull back from him to catch your breath, foreheads still pressed against each other while you keep your eyes closed, heart still racing from the kiss. He is panting for air as well, eyes fixed on your parted lips.

“I’ve been waiting for a year for this,”

“I know, baby.” He cups your face, looking at you with dazed eyes before suggesting that the both of you get inside before it gets colder. You step down into the room first and he follows right after. He pulls you back towards him by your belt loop, wrapping his arms around your waist as he cannot resist the look of need in your eyes.

“I’m not done with you, my love.”

He leans in to kiss you again, this time more desperately. You throw your hands over his shoulders, arching your back to press your front against his. As it gets passionate, you are stumbling backwards as he pushes you towards your bed, lying you down on it. He hovers over you, leaning his weight on his palms that rest on either side of your head.

“I’ll repay the one year worth of kisses tonight so that you can forgive my dumbass.” Sliding down the side of your face, leaving kisses on your neck. You let out a moan, blessing his ears with the sounds that you are making involuntarily. You try to say something but your head is clouded with lust as he lightly runs his tongue along your jawline, raking one of your hands through his curls and another, scratching across his firm back. His soft grunts in your ear makes your spine tingle, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as he slides his hands under your shirt, digging his fingers in your waist.

“You’re forgiven, baby.” You blurt out while you are distracted by his pressing body on yours. He stops, raising his head towards you, not believing what he just heard.

“What did you just say?”

“Huh?” Your eyes heavy lidded as you look at him.

“Let me hear it again.” He smiles adorably.

“You’re forgiven?” Your brows knitted in confusion.

“No. The other one.”

“Baby?”

His face breaks into a grin and he softly giggles into your chest, loving the fact that you called him ‘baby’. Fuck the forgiveness, he just wants you to claim him as yours forever. He peppers you with kisses all over your face, making you scrunch, still smiling at him.The night deepens as the both of you continue exploring each other’s bodies, steaming the room up with grunts and moans throughout the night. The chess piece that fell to the ground while the both of you kiss, lies sidewards, the writing prominent at the bottom of it.

‘I pick you 2’

previous part

Thank you for reading! I have another Joel Miller fic that is coming soon over here. It's a sports romance x childhood friends to enemies to lovers. Do keep a lookout if you're interested. All love <3 - Z

Taglist: @greenwitchfromthewoods @rebeccawinters @cuteanimalmama @rodriguez31 @orcasoul @ashleyfilm @macaroni676 @whirlwindrider29 @vickie5446 @uncassettodiricordi @astralqueenoc

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller au #joel miller x f!reader #joel the last of us #joel x reader #the last of us fic

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marvelfanfics1 · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! Could you do a Rafe x Little!Reader where it is the readers first time being little around Rafe and the reader is very shy and emotional and it’s just all cute and fluffy please?

I totally get it if you can’t!

Btw, I absolutely loved your Moody Princess one shot, thank you so much for writing it!

Baby's Safe Space

Pairing: daddy!rafe x pogue!little!reader

Warnings: age regression, small mentions of past abuse, soft!rafe, fluff

A/n: Thank you lovely! I hope I made the request justice and that you like how it came out 🫣🫶🏻

⭒𖥸⭒

It took Rafe some time to understand the aspects of regressing but after you explained it to him he started to do more research on his own, and maybe buying some stuff online he thought you would like, to show his support.

You told Rafe that regressing is just how you cope with past trauma you endured during your childhood.

He understood how important it is for your little self to feel safe and protected, knowing it's not for everyone to see and felt honored that you finally got the courage to talk about it with him. That you feel safe enough in his presence to show your most vulnerable side.

Growing up at the cut with abusive parents took quite a tool on you and as you found out about the term age regression it was clear to you it's what you needed to cope or what you deserved to have.

Rafe was beyond anxious that he somehow mess things up by saying or doing the wrong thing that it results in you being little by yourself again.

He felt bad knowing you probably were only little when he would have busy work days or a business trip.

It was a little into the afternoon and you just got out of the bathroom after doing your skincare and Rafe instantly noticed the pastel colored jammies that had little bunnies printed all over them.

He smiled at you softly, internally excited as hell to finally see that side of you and even curious as to how different your behavior is now in this state.

He noticed at the way you fiddled with the hem of your shirt that you're probably even more nervous than him right now, which is totally understandable.

It was already a hard challenge for you to even tell him about it.

Putting his phone aside he waved you over to him.

"Come here, baby. Promise I won't bite ya." He smirked and to see you smile a little was already a triumph to him.

Shyly you shuffled over to the bed, climbing your way up to snuggle into Rafe's side and grasping his shirt in one of your hands.

He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head when suddenly he remembered what he had hidden under the bed. "Ah- wait a second..."

He reached beside under the bed to pull out a white box with a rather big red ribbon on top of it. You sat up straight when he placed it between you both. "I- uh...thought you might like it and if not that's totally fine."

You haven't even opened it yet but Rafe certainly knew you cherish absolutely anything he gifted you.

He was just afraid he would go too far with what he bought you but the sparkle in your eyes already eased his nerves a little.

You slowly took of the lid and gasped. There was a lamb stuffie, color books with crayons, and some obviously custom made pacis in your favorite colors you had been dreaming of getting for yourself for a while now.

You instantly teared up, scaring Rafe beyond belief. "Hey, hey...what's wrong kid?" He asked reaching out to cup your face in his large palms, his thumb swiping away the tears that slipped before asking. "Was it too much at once?"

You quickly shook your head which was a little hard with him holding your face. You placed your hands over his, smiling at him. "Dey are happy tears."

"Really? You don't have to say that just to-" you silenced him by leaning forward to peck his lips.

"fank you, Rafey..." You whispered and he pressed his forehead against yours.

"Not for that, baby. I'd do anything to make you happy."

After your sweet moment you only pulled out the stuffie and a paci, placing the box on the ground beside the bed and snuggled back into Rafe's side. You popped in your paci and had the lamb held snugly under your chin while he turned on the TV and looked through Netflix for a movie that suited your headspace, yet he had some difficulty.

"Can you tell me how old you're feeling right now?" He asked and you held up three fingers. After a moment of looking through the kids section he stopped when you squealed quietly and pointed your finger at the screen at seeing your favorite cartoon making Rafe chuckle slightly. "Alright, guess it's gonna be this one."

He put the cartoon on play, an arm wrapping around you to keep you close and kissing your head.

You sighed contently, mumbling sleepily from behind your paci. "Lub you Rafey..."

"I love you more, baby."

⭒𖥸⭒

Taglist

for everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse @kissforvoid

Crossed out are the ones I somehow can't tag!

#little!reader #little reader #cg!rafe cameron #cg!rafe #daddy!rafe cameron x little!reader #daddy!rafe x little!reader #daddy!rafe cameron #daddy!rafe #daddy rafe x little reader #daddy rafe cameron #daddy rafe cameron x little reader #daddy rafe

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yuyu1024 · 10 months ago

Text

Twilight

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞 smut/angst, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kink, unprotected sex, mention of smoking and drinking alchohol jealousy, insecurity, mention of weight&food/eating, mention of blood/violence

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 5.6k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Part 1 - Prisoner

Part 2 - Escape

Part 3 - Twilight

A/N: again thanks for liking this mini series and my simple writing... 🫶🏻 hope i don't disappoint 🙏🏻

****

[Day 1 into the marriage]

"Here is the wedding certificate and then here are the papers where all the terms of agreement are listed." The lawyer says as he puts down the pens and papers in front of you and Yoongi whilst you two are still in your wedding outfits. "These are final prints... they were revised based from our last meeting." He adds

"Good." Yoongi picks up his pen and signs the wedding certificate. "Thanks for doing this within short notice." And then he proceeds to signing our contract, flipping each page like he's just signing some random deal at work.

"No worries, Mr. Min. We've had clients who have way more pages and things to consider than yours two." The lawyer says

So, this means that a lot of rich people do this kind of contracts. Besides the pre-nup thingy. Meaning, contracts for those who got married just because they had to. What a world we live in.

"Mrs. Min?" Your eyes slowly rises. You see the lawyer handing you the pen.

"Oh." You take the pen from his hand and then slighty move forward from the sofa you are sitting so you could reach the papers.

"Left handed...?" Yoongi mumbles making you look back at him. He is sitting beside you.

"I- I am..." and then you proceed to signing everything. Not missing a page.

"Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Min." The lawyer puts everything in a folder and then an envelope and stands up to bow. "Congratulation on your marriage!"

You are not sure how to response as you know what 'marriage' you just entered. But all you could say is 'Thank you' and bow back

Then the moment the lawyer and his minions left the room, you finally relax and let out a sigh of relieved. The wedding is finally over. The day you have been preparing for months. And the acting as a perfect bride is over. Well atleast for this moment. Coz now, you are not just a bride, you are a wife now. A wife of one of the wealthiest and good looking man in the country. The only son of the famous mafia known to man.

"Don't cut your hair short..." he suddenly says cutting you from your deep thoughts

"Sorry?"

You see him staring at you. His legs crossed and his chin resting on his palm. "Maintain that length..."

Then you glance down at your curled hair that is reaching until below your chest. "Ahm.... okay." You softly answer

"Do you have a doctor?"

"Doctor? For what?"

"To monitor your health... and also a doctor to take care of you... reproductive wise..."

"W-what...?" You could feel your cheeks burn up. You didn't expect a conversation like this just after getting married. "W-why...? Like... Do we need to have children as soon as possible?"

He looks away. "The opposite." He then stands up, hands in his pockets and walks towards the door. "Monitor your period...so when I want to have sex with you... we're safe."

Speechless. He's so straightforward and he sound so cold. But atleast he is talking to you now.

"Did you hear me?" He looks back at you

"Y-yes... I will." You answer, clutching onto your skirt, nervous and scared at the same time.

"Good." He turns his back again to you. "You can rest for bit... and when you're done, your car is waiting at the back entrance."

"My... car? H-how about you?"

"I have work. I'll see you at the house."

"Oh. Okay..."

You watch him leave the room and see Mr. Kim his right hand man smile at you to bid their goodbye and close the door.

That's it for your wedding day. The very eventful day ended up to becoming so silent. Because the next time you see him is 2 weeks after. Crazy isn't it.

Weddings supposed to be followed by a trip for your honeymoon but instead you are brought to his mansion and became a prison.

***

You are walking around the mansion, familiarizing yourself with the surrounding with your personal maid that was assigned to you by your husband, when you hear commotions. Everyone are in a hurry and mumbling as they do random things.

"Miss... Master is home." Your personal maid says answering your unspoken curiosity

"Is he..." you softly say under your breathe. "Should I go to my room now and change?" You ask her.

They have debriefed you the whole two weeks your husband is out. They told you all the things you need to know and add a bit of ideas to you what Yoongi likes. More particularly, your hair being braided whenever he wants to have sex.

How funny that even his staffs know these kind of things. During the two weeks time, it made you wonder, what type of person is Yoongi. How can he be so open about his wants especially from a woman. Like woman he fucks.

It also made you question, did he fuck a lot of woman before he was forced to marry? Did he bring a different woman to pleasure him? Will you be seeing other women if you don't give him his needs? Can you satisfy him?

It's been only at beginning of this life and yet you are flooded by question but no one could answer it. You are not allowed to question him or be curious.

The maid nods and bows.

"Okay then..." you are nervous.

If ever he comes to you and he asks for sex, you are worried and scared at the same time. This is your first time. You are not experienced. You never had a chance to have to have sex yet since you are busy trying to survive and work for your family. The only experience you got is kissing and you don't even know if you are good at it. Your first and last boyfriend was the onky experience you got. you two didn't lasted that long and you were young back then so..

"What are you doing here...?"

Both you and the maid got startled a bit. You two looking back, you both see Yoongi standing at the end of the hallway.

"Y-yoongi?" You mumble, almost a whisper that you can only hear yourself.

Your husband looks like he just came from a fight. The corner of his lips is bleeding and his white shirt have blood on it too.

"Master." The maid bows and explains why you are there. "Miss is just roaming around to get familiar with the house."

While you on the other hand, you are shaking but you try your very best to hide it. "W-what happen..." your voice is too weak for him to even hear

"We were just about to go to her room to get ready." The maid adds.

Yoongi's expression is empty. He is just starring at you with those sharp eyes. It is sending shivers all over your body.

"Tell everybody to not set foot on this wing until I say so..." Yoongi orders the maid

She bows and says, "Understood." And then she glances at me and does the same. "Miss..." before she disappears leaving you and Yoongi alone in the hallway.

"What are you staring at?" He asks as he begins to walk towards you. "Do I scare you?"

"No..." you shake your head

"Do I repulse you?" He then stops right in front of you.

You can now see it more clearing. His bloody lip, the scratches on his neck and his scar. The prominent scar on his face that made you curious about him since the day you met him.

"No... not at all..." you answer

He scoffs with disbelief with your answer. "You are just saying that because of our contract."

You feel offended a little because you are being honest. You are scared of the situation but not him. You are afraid that you might mess up your first night but not because of him. He never really scares you which is odd.

Before you met him, people already gave you warning about him. You were worried yes however all of that blew away when you saw him look at you. You know something is behind those empty eyes. He is different that what people know. You don't want to judge him.

"No..." you insist.

"Really?" He then raises his hand and touch your long straight hair.

"Your hand..." you mumble seeing his red knuckles. "Does it hurt?"

"That's nothing." He answers. "I can still use my hand..." then he gently touch your breast. He let his finger feel where your nipple is and then squeezing it lightly.

You inhale sharply as you watch him do it. This is the first time anyone have touched you like this, in a semi public place. You thought you'd be uncomfortable. But no. You like it. That's what your body tells you.

He is also watching you react on his touch. His eyes never left yours. "Are you nervous?" He asks

"A little."

He smirks, "you should be."

Then he pulled you in for a kiss by grabbing you by your nape. You tip toed a little as he is taller than you. You struggled a bit to find your balance but it didn't matter seconds later as you begin to melt the moment he devours your lips. He is holding you tight and basically carrying you.

His other hand skims down your back until it reaches your ass. He's caressing you down back that it pulls up your mini dress.

"I like this." He says in between the kiss as he touched your lace underwear.

Your heart is beating so fast. The sudden thrilling feeling is overwhelming you but at the same time is turning you on. The way he touches you is making you feel you are so sexy even though you know you are not.

"Spread your legs." He orders and you follow. Then his hand goes in to your panty and cup you down there. "You're so wet." He smirks

You are out of breathe when the kissing stops but him touching you down there, it is making you so red. No one has touched you down there.

"No braids today... I can't fucking wait anymore." He then scoops you off the ground and carried you bridal style. "I'll let this one go since we just got married. I need to fuck you right now."

**********

[6months into the marriage]

Yoongi have been gone for two days for business. He said he will back today but told you not to wait and just go to bed. However, after seeing him looking at bit grumpy and frustrated during his call earlier, you can't help but worry for him. Because usually when you see him like that he'll come home with a bloody knuckle again.

Thinking about him the whole day now affects you. You can't sleep nor feel tired. Your brain is so awake and imagining things that might happen to him.

You want to call him or even message Mr. Kim to know how is he doing. But you can't. You're not allowed to contact him unless it is about your schedule or about his parents. Your interaction with him is still very limited. It's been months since you two got married but nothing has changed.

And since you can't sleep, you decided to go down to the kitchen and make yourself a hot milk. It is perfect for the winter weather and also maybe it can help to ease your mind and get you to feel sleepy even just a little bit.

"It's snowing..." you mumble to yourself as enter the kitchen area.

There is a huge window where you could see the back of the house where the mini garden. You say mini since it is mini compare to how huse this whole house is.

The bushes are all covered in snow and you could see how the moon light reflects on them. It's mesmarizing but also dangerous especially if you are out driving.

"I wonder..." you whisper as you stand right next to the window. "I hope he gets home safetly..."

***

After drinking your hot milk and spending a few minutes staring into the world outside through the window, you still don't feel sleepy at all. So even it's already pass 10pm, you decided that maybe going to your study room and to read a book might help to.

However, on your way to your study area, you walk pass by Yoongi's wing where his room is located

You could hear men talking which made you stop and observe from the end of the hall. You see Mr. Kim talking to a man wearing a white blazer coat. He looked familiar but you are not sure. Not until he turned around and talked to a nurse that came out of Yoongi's room.

He is the Min's family doctor. He is also the same doctor that did your health check up months ago.

"Why is he--"

Then a high pitched, piercing cry echoed from Yoongi's room. He's screaming. He is in pain.

Both men hurries back in his room to check on Yoongi while you on the other hand, frozen and terrified from afar. Questions like; what happened? What's going on? Is he hurt? Why? Is he okay? Why is he screaming like that?

You want to sprint forward to go and check what the fuck is going on with your husband but you are forbidden to enter his wing. Per his rule.

'Y/N... just walk away. Walk away and pretend you didn't hear anything. That's how its supposed to be...' you say to yourself in your head as you take a step back and try to act like nothing happened.

Just move on. You keep repeating as you turn your back. You know he'll not like it, you being nosy.

*******

[7 months & 1 week into the marriage]

"What is it?" He asks as he flips the page of the book he's reading.

"Oh...S-sorry..." you lower your head again and just continued pretending reading the book you have in hand.

He caught you staring at him. But to be more specific, staring at his injured shoulder. This is the first you guys spent time together again. He was gone for awhile. Their doctor insisted that he need to get an operation as his injury was serious.

Yoongi denied him so many times. Even the doctor explained the danger that it would caused him and the injury really damaging his shoulder. He's very hard headed.

But you are glad that eventually, he said yes to the operation. Everyone is relieved when Mrs. Min, his mom, got to force him out of his dungeon and straight to the hospital.

"Are you even actually reading that book?" Yoongi shuts the book he have on hand and throws it on the sofa he's sitting on.

"Ahm..." your eyes shake. "I am..."

"Okay then... what is it about?"

You lift the book more to cover your face. "A young girl... fell in love with a vampire... but the vampire does not like her... so she tries his best to find a way to be... a vampire too... coz maybe... he'll like her back." You made it up. Sort of. You barely finished reading chapter 15.

"Really?"

"Uhum..." you hum and flip a page to act like you are still reading.

Yoongi shakes his head, "What a dumb book." He mumbles.

"Why do you think it is dumb?"

He rolls his eyes. "Why would she want to be a vampire if the vampire does not even like her in the first place. What would that change? That's a bit pathetic of her and stupid"

You lower the book onto your lap and shut it slowly. "Yeah... I guess you're right..."

His comment about the book sort of hit you in the heart. Since you kind a share the same story of the female lead. You are not in love but you try so hard to be accepted and be liked by him, your husband. Though you know it will never happen. He only likes to fuck you. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"My mother wants to have lunch with you on the weekend. Be available." He says as he is focused on his phone probably reading emails.

'I'm always available.' You say in your head. 'How can I not be? I'm just at home and no where to go to.'

"Okay." You answer as you put down the book down beside you.

He is busy looking down at his phone now. Again. And just like that the room became so silent. You are just literally there to accompany him while he sits down in his home office and do whatever business he do. He do his work at home since he cannot report yet to work.

*beeps*

Your phone blinks as you receive a new message. It is a message from your friend back home, Taehyung. He's asking you how are you and also giving you updates about everything that has been going on in your small town. His simple text and updates every now and then really makes you smile. It is a simple thing that you look forward to every now and then. Since, lately, you have been loosing your smile day by day.

"What's funny?" He asks, not even looking at you

You put your phone down. "N-nothing... sorry...."

********

[11 months into the marriage]

Your wedding anniversary is coming soon and for some reason you are excited about it. You are not giggling to yourself or kicking off your feet when you are in bed alone thinking about it, however, you are really looking forward to it. For some reason, you want to celebrate it. It is a milestone for you. A simple achievement.

"Here you go, Miss." Your maid pulls out this mini plunging floral print dress with long sleeves from the hanger. You bought this online a few weeks ago. You think it is a cute dress to wear today. It is not fancy nor expensive but you like it. "Where to go today, Miss?"

You get up from the chair and undo your robe, revealing a cute pair of undergarment. "Nothing special... I just.... want to go out."

"I'll inform the driver then to get ready."

"Thank you." You take the dress from her hand so she could go on and inform the driver.

You have nothing to do today. Yoongi is out of town again and you have no schedules so you decided to go and visit your friend back home.

***

"Y/N!" Taehyung runs towards you and embraces you the moment you got out of the car. "Long time no see!" He then pats your head and pinches your cheek.

"Long time..." you answer then pulling back a little as you see his little sister running from afar. "Mia!" Bending down so you could welcome the little cutie's hug. "I've missed you! Oh my gosh! You've grown so much!"

"She's now two... can you believe it?" Taehyung says

"Oh dear!" You carry her and kisses her chubby cheeks. "I want to eat your cute little cheeks!" You tease her, making her giggle.

"Glad you had time to visit."

"Yeah... My husband is away so... I made plans."

"Why? Does he not allow you to go out?"

"No... not like that... he's busy and I got busy as well which is... new. And I'm still adjusting..."

It is true that Yoongi does not limit you with going out. It's just that you were and still adjusting big time to everything. The lifestyle, the household and Him. He is the big adjustment in your life right now.

"So, how's married life? I mean... married life with one of the richest man in the country?"

You exhale as smile. "Weird?"

"Weird? In what way?"

A lot of things. The lavish life is very nice in the beginning and exciting but then as time goes by you get very overwhelmed by the new things and items that comes in every now and then. Plus you don't repeat that much clothes which is very icky for you coz every dress and clothing is expensive so you want to wear them as much as possible.

Luckily, Yoongi didn't mind when you told him to not ask his stylists to buy you new clothes every release. You told him you wanted to buy on your own and just ask for consultation when you need to.

"Not used to it yet." Then you look behind you. "Even going around with a maid and a bodyguard."

He looks back and sees the two person standing a few feet away. "Oh... right."

"Play! Play!" Little Mia mumbles as she points at their house

"Play what?" You ask

"Ah, Dad built her a play house at the back. She likes to go their and play pretend house with her dolls." Taehyung explains

"I see.." you kiss little Mia's cheek again. "Let's play?"

"Yayaya!" Little Mia squeals in joy.

***

You spent quite a few hours at your friend's house. You even met a few old neighbors and classmates as well, catching up with their own lives and everything. It was fun. You enjoyed talking with them, finally talking this much again like before. It was refreshing.

However, along the talkings, you find it amusing that most of them got married as well after you and one is already expecting a baby and the other one is excited to go on a trip with his husband. Their stories of marriage is very different than yours. Their stories are very warm and thrilling while yours have a lot of activities yes, but the warmth, you don't have that.

You felt your smile fade away as the conversations continues. You also felt small and be like the other kid that's missing out a lot.

Taehyung even noticed it. He put his arm around you and gave you a 'it's okay' look. He knows what you are already feeling though he didn't asked what was on your mind. He just knew you needed a little nudge.

"Warm bath, miss?" Your maid asks as you both exit the elevator.

You got home already. You were knocked out on the way home.

"Maybe later?" You say.

"Understood."

"Thank you for today... you can go and rest for a bit. I'll just call you if I need you."

She bows. "Miss." And then walks off

You sigh heavily, closing your eyes shut for a few seconds before you decide to go to your study room. You want complete isolation and probably sit down at your favorite spot, the window seat and watch the sunset. Your study room have the best view of the sunset.

Pushing the window slightly open to let the crispy cool air in, then kicking your shoes off your feet as you lean your head out a bit and take in the fresh air.

The small smile you are wearing instantly vanishes as a thought comes in your head again.

Taehyung did talked to you before you left earlier. Besides asking you to visit often, he suddenly asked you if you're happy. Of course you said yes but deep inside, you question yourself. 'Am I?'

"Yah! Yoongi! You promised me that yatch so you should get me that yatch!"

You suddenly hear a woman's voice from afar. You have never heard anyone talk that loud ever in this house. So it made you curious. You peak your head out again from your window and start to look around where it comes from. And then when your eyes lands on the view of the driveway, you see Yoongi walking towards the car where Mr. Kim is waiting, holding the door and then a woman following your husband.

"Hey... don't ignore me!" She runs after Yoongi and hooks her arm to his.

It stunned you. You never hooked your arms around Yoongi's before. They.... look close. Who is she?

You see Yoongi talk to her, making an exhausted face. He looks so done and just want her to leave. But at the same time, it's not like he does not want to talk to her. Actually, he looks a bit relaxed talking to her.

Compared to you. He is strict, always serious and bored.

"Buy me the yatch!" She says again before he gets into the car.

You didn't hear what Yoongi answered. He just waved his hands and Mr. Kim shuts the door and goes to the passenger seat and leave with the unknown girl.

Before Yoongi could turn around and catch you, you instantly get back in and shut the window.

*****

[1st Anniversary]

"Good morning, Miss." Your maid enters your room and bows as she always does.

"Is he home?"

"Master left early this morning."

"Really..." you softly say. You sound sad and disappointed. "Did he say where is he going and what time will he back?"

"Sorry, Miss. Master didn't mention anything nor Mr. Kim."

"Hmm... okay then."

You had your hopes up. How stupid of you to think that he will celebrate with you. Hoping that maybe, even just for special occassions like this he could atleast be present.

It is a tough year for you. All through out this whole year, the only thing that is constant for your smile fading away. Yeah you are a bit light and always trying to be positive about the two of you. But since now its your one year into this marriage, officially 1st anniversary, and he is still like this. Maybe it's better you stop smiling already. It breaking your heart every time.

"Maybe he's with her." You mumble. "She's more of a good company than I am..." you flop on your bed and cover yourself with your duvet.

"Shall I get ready your outfits, Miss?"

"No.... just... sorry... can you please leave me alone for awhile?"

"I'll be outside."

Hearing the door closing, finally you let loose of yourself. For the first time, you are crying because of Him. Sobbing. You don't know why you are but it just felt right. You are disappointed, tired and feel unappreciated. Though you know how this thing between you two is, even you tell it to yourself hundred of times, you can't stop your own self to care and not try. You don't want to be a burden for him. You don't want to take advantage of his money. You don't want to act like you don't give a fuck. You don't want to not like him.

Yoongi is still a person, a man and you are a woman. Though you know that you don't love him you still like him. He is a kind person and giving though he is strict and have tons of rules for you but you don't care. And you don't know why you don't care.

It is very confusing for you. You are not even sure now what you are feeling. You just want him to notice you and just to... care. Maybe? Even just a little bit. ;(

You continue to cry and cry until your heart feels as numb as your eyes. You want to let it all out now to get over with your feelings. He can't see you emotional. He can't see that you care. Because if he did, maybe it will make him change his mind and let you go.

****************

[Day after 1st anniversary]

"Here's your coffee, Sir." Mr. Kim cautiously puts his cup of coffee in his desk while Yoongi is busy talking to his staff online

He did woke up early today even though he finished work late as well. He is already in his home office at 4am and very busy already. He had a few early meetings with time differences to think of.

"Can't you all fucking handle this? It's not like the task is hard!" He is scowling at the two men at the corner of the screen as he take a hit of his cigarette. "I assigned you to collect these because I know you could handle those mother fuckers. What happened?!?"

"Our mistake, Sir." One starts, "We didn't expected him to resist since it's their frist time dealing with us."

"Hmmm." Yoongi smashes his cigar on the ash tray. "Bring in your men tomorrow morning before dawn and show them how we deal with fuckers like him. And tell them this is us being super nice."

"Yes sir."

"Let's end this now. Just inform me when it's all sorted."

"Understood sir."

Yoongi then slams his laptap close and then grabs his cup of coffee to drink.

"What's my schedule for today?"

Mr. Kim then checks the ipad on his hand. "Nothing sir..."

"Nothing?" Yoongi frowns. "What you mean nothing?"

Mr. Kim looks at him and tries to see if Yoongi would realize what day it is today. "I guess you really forgot."

"Forgot what?" Yoongi puts down the coffee and pulls his phone out of his pocket to see what day it is. "So, you are telling me you didn't scheduled any work today because of my wedding anniversary yesterday?"

"Yes."

Yoongi rolls his eyes and leans back to his chair. "We have a lot of collections to do, Mr. Kim."

"I know sir. But one day of rest would not hurt." He says, "with your wife."

Raising his brow, Yoongi does not show any hint of any emotion. Mr. Kim could not sense if he's okay with it or not.

Sighing, "Ready the car." Yoongi orders the man standing by the door.

"Where are you going, Sir?" Mr. Kim questions

Yoongi didn't answer though. He just stood up and started walking to exit his office. He even told his men and even Mr. Kim to not follow him which confused most of them.

"Where do you think Master going today?" The young guard asks

Mr. Kim smiles and says, "Not sure where... but looks like he's visiting his wife first."

And he is right. Yoongi is actually stomping his way towards the other wing of the mansion where Y/N's room is located.

"Master." Two maids who are walking along the hallways this early, cleaning, sees him and greets him.

"Is she awake?"

"No sir. Not yet...."

He stops just at her door. "She's usually up early. Right?"

"Yes, master." One answer, "she do get up early... but not today..."

"Is she sick?"

"No... but..." then the maid pauses and lookd hesitant.

"What is it?" Yoongi turns to see why the maid stopped.

"Well...." she lowers her voice. "We heard that... Miss cried so much yesterday."

"Cried?" Yoongi's forehead creases with confusion

"Yes." Both maid answers

"Hmm..." Yoongi then faces Y/N's wooden door and just stayed still for a good few seconds.

"Do you want us to wake her up, Master?" One asks

"No..." he utters as he hold onto the door handle. "Please go ahead and prepare breakfast so when she wakes up at sunrise she could eat...and also... just... leave us alone for a moment..."

Both maids look at each other, surpressing a smile. They know Yoongi is worried about his wife though their master seems to not notice it himself. They find it amusing how their master is... changing. It is very minimal and not really noticable unless you have known him for quite sometime. But it is a big thing.

"We'll let the others know..." the other says, pertaining to not disturb the couple

***

Upon entering Y/N's room, Yoongi finds his wife sleeping so soundly on her queen size bed. Her arms are on her side, spreadout like they are her wings and about to fly. Her eyes, he can see how puffy they are. And her expression, she looks like she really did fell asleep crying. She even fell asleep on the buttom end of her bed.

She's adorable.

"Why did you cried?" Yoongi asks softly as he runs his knuckles on her cheek. "Is it because of me...?" He goes down to sit on the bedroom bench and picks up the book that must've fallen on the floor. "Or is it because... of this book...?" He places the book back on the bed and leans in, to fix her douvet. "I hope it's the latter... don't cry because of me... it's not worth it." He then removes the hair strands covering her face. "also.... I didn't forgot" he then bends over more before planting a soft and delicate kiss on her lips whilst making sure he won't wake her up. "Happy anniversary Y/N..." his eyes scans her face one more time before kissing her again. But this time on her forehead and whispered. "Just wait a bit more..."

***

"Sir..." Mr. Kim bows as Yoongi returns to his home office. "The car is ready..."

However, Yoongi didn't responded. He just walk pass Mr. Kim and go to stand by his office window.

"Is everything alright, Sir?"

Closing his eyes, Yoongi tries to organize his thoughts.

"Mr. Kim..."

"Yes, sir?"

Yoongi opens his eyes, just in time for the a hint of light peaks through the dark sky. "Can you please call my lawyer..."

"Sir?" Mr. Kim wonders why Yoongi suddenly wants him to contact a lawyer. "May I ask, which one?"

Yoongi turns around to face him. "Call Mr. Choi..."

Processing in his mind why Yoongi would like to call the lawyer than made their prenup and marriage contract alk of a sudden. "Okay sir... but may I ask for what reason?"

Yoongi picks up his pack of cigarette and pulls out one stick using his lips. "Just bring him in. I need to talk to him. Privately.... Asap."

"Understood, Sir."

Next: Fate

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chuusheartattck · 4 months ago

Text

THAT’S THAT ME ESPRESSO (TTME)

Chapter 13- Ik the law baby ☕️

(Warning: This chapter includes details of bullying. No violence but mentions of harassment)

Dread.

Dread was all you could feel at this very moment. You have met up with Yanfei and Heizou to film the video explaining your side. It was your story to be told so why were you so nervous?

You felt a warm hand touch your shoulder.

It was Yanfei.

“Don’t be so nervous Y/n. We’ll be here throughout everything.” She reassured you.

The three of you sat down at a table. You in the middle, Yanfei to your right, and Heizou to your left. All three of you discussed what to say and when. As you go on with your story, they will present the printed evidence to the camera.

The cameraman begins rolling.

You clear your throat and begin to talk, “Hello everyone. I’m Y/n L/n and I’ve been recently tangled up in some controversy regarding my days in school. I would like to make this video addressing all the allegations and clearing my name. I hope this video also sheds light on bullying in schools and helps someone know they’re not alone.”

Yanfei and Heizou flip through their papers for the first topic.

You talk again, “During my junior year I rejected someone named Dottore. I simply didn’t have time to date and because of it, he got upset. I have screenshots of when it first happened and how his friendgroup would begin to attack me online. This is all the evidence I have compiled throughout.”

Heizou held up DM’s from various people calling you fake and a liar.

“I was so confused on why his group would attack me like this as I never had an encounter with them in the first place. I only talked to Dottore on a few occasions. His friend group liked to call themselves The Fatui and the grade would eventually call them that too. I have no idea where the name originated from but they were extremely popular and basically were friends with everyone.” You add.

You pause for a moment as the memories of the torment they caused you start pouring in.

This didn’t stop you and you speak once again, “The harassment didn’t stop online. It continued during school. I have videos and audio recordings of them making gestures to me and yelling out profanities. They said they were trolling me, but is it really trolling if it goes on till we graduated?”

Yanfei begins to play an audio recording of voices from various people. Both the men and the women of the group making noises at you and yelling threats at you.

The audio recording stops.

“Anyways, that’s what I had to deal with my entire junior year. Now you may be asking, why didn’t nobody stop them? That’s the same question I asked myself the entire time. The group spread false rumors against me saying I slept with many people and how easy I am. I never had a boyfriend nor engaged in any sexual activity with anyone. However, everyone believed them and half the grade was against me. I had my friend’s support but everyone clowned anyone who was associated with me. It really felt like I had nobody.”

Heizou then holds up a series screenshots of a group chat that you were added to.

“Let’s move onto this group chat that I was added to by them. They used this group chat to tease and curse at me. If I were to leave or ignore them, they would add me back and harass me even more. One of the girls in the group, Columbina, would be the one to harass me in the group chat the most. Probably wanted to look good in front of the guys I don’t know.”

Yanfei then holds up papers of [redacted] individuals pleading with you to go tell the school.

“These are my friends who wanted to report the group to the school. Their names are redacted since I don’t want their information getting leaked. The reason why I didn’t report the group is because it would get much worse. Think about it, they would get suspended sure but what happens when they get out of suspension? They’re going to continue and possibly do worse things. If some of you are wondering if I ever stood up for myself. I did. I’m not going to let people walk all over me. However, just because I stand up for myself, doesn’t mean they’re going to stop. They would still continue.”

You take a sip of water before carrying on. You’ve been talking for so long you didn’t realize how dry your throat had became.

“The summer came around and I didn’t have to see them nor hear from them. However, they made sure that I knew they weren’t done with me. If I were to get invited to a party, they would make the host uninvite me or just tell people not to invite me at all. This affected me the most when they prevented me from going to my friend’s birthday party. I’m still upset about it to this day.”

Heizou holds up another series of screenshots of The Fatui threatening people to not invite you.

“Senior year came and the harassment died down a tiny bit. They would still tease me but I think they got tired of it by senior year as they had officially drained any spark I had left. They got what they wanted, the grade didn’t like me and I had a few friends left. I was so thankful to finally be able to graduate but it was short lived as they have now tried to ruin my career.”

You felt your throat close up again and you drink more water. It was never easy talking about your experiences, especially in front of a camera.

You continue again, “I have found out that the account was created by that group through investigations.”

Yanfei holds up the last document of Pantalone and Scaramouche’s conversation. The conversation where Pantalone admitted everything.

Scaramouche’s name is redacted for obvious reasons.

“The person who talked to Pantalone and the person who sent me these screenshots would like to remain anonymous. If you are both seeing this, I would like to give my upmost gratitude. You know who you are and I seriously can’t thank you enough.”

You then look straight into the camera, almost as if you were talking to The Fatui directly.

“To the group who made my high school experience a living hell, I hope you like the lawsuit coming to you in the mail. Have fun explaining to your parents why you’re getting charged with defamation and harassment.”

The video wraps up and it feels like you can finally breathe again.

A weight is lifted from your shoulders and you feel the best you have felt in a while.

The video gets posted shortly.

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: Written chapter!! I wasn’t planning on making this written but I also wanted to make it detailed. The bully arc is finally done so now I can move onto the other things I planned 🥰

ALSOOO lmk if you guys want your users to be added to this au and i’ll make you a twitter user :)

Synopsis: You’re a new idol that just debuted under ‘Fontaine Entertainment’ with your new single ‘Espresso.’ You just graduated high school which means all your classmates are shocked to see you into stardom. Including your old situationship, who happens to be an actor.

Taglist: @skyoverkill1 @quacking-simp @lolmeowing @astro-stars @kaitfae @sl-vega @veekoko @scarawiki @yuminako @samyayaya @skyvella @kur0kki @practicoi @kukikoooo @scaraenthusiast1 @shutingstar @lloovvv @moonjellyfishie @miy-svz @xionri @lalalaloveallmydays @hearts4lizzzz @kathiwis @state-of-grac3 @morgyyyyyyy @scaradooche @theyluvkatt @meigalaxy @noirechomps @crimxeorcremexistspeacefully @vxcmx @ariesloves @cayl33n @animeobsessed56

#genshin impact #genshin impact smau #genshin smau #y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #ttme #chuusheartattck

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harrysgal · 6 months ago

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I DIG YOUR CINEMA (4)

harry styles x yn aspiring filmmaker — social media AU

I am actually a little bit nervous about this part, so I hope you enjoy it.

About the smau: yn starts posting videos on youtube and is trying to build a career as a filmmaker. Things are going pretty well for her and she starts getting more attention when she creates content about shows she goes to. She’s also a fan of Harry’s music and some of his fans start getting suspicious when his team starts interacting with her.

Disclaimer: The story it’s set in 2021 and it will follow their relationship through the LOT leg in the US. Since this is nothing but fiction, I will be following some of the real timeline but also adding my own stuff. On top of that, I won’t be basing myself on Harry’s actual posts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PART 3 — DENVER // MASTERLIST

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I DIG YOUR CINEMA (PART 4) — THE VIDEO

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liked by bestfriend, anthonypham, mollyjane_x and 59,302 others

yourinstagram im sorry its taken me so long to show up. i thought time would give me the ability to find some words to say, but as it turns out im much better at telling things through a camera than through a pen (or a keyboard, in this case). when i posted my first video on youtube, all i wanted was to find myself again after finally getting free from a relationship that drained the fun out of me. making movies is something that ive always been passionate about, so i thought — why not? three months later, when i posted my first video at a concert, all i wanted was to tell the story of a woman who, after raising two kids and giving everything she had to make everyone around her happy and safe, finally had the opportunity to make one of her most “innocent” dreams (seeing shania twain) come true. fast forward to this week, as i post my latest video all i want is to tell the story of a man who has the entire world in the palm of his hand and yet lives his life as if he’s merely another ordinary soul on earth. what happens now, and what you do with this story (or with any other ive already told), its not up to me anymore.

that all being said, thank you harry for trusting me with this story. it wasn’t mine to tell, but you allowed me to do it anyway and i’ll always be grateful for that. so, again, thank you.

ok i will stop typing now.

actually, im just gonna add that i hope you all enjoy this video as much as i do (but if you don’t, thats fair, and i’ll accept it just as much)

ok, now im done :)

view all 11,073 comments

lookitsnyoh 👑👑👑👑👑 harryfan9 this was so much more than we’ve asked for 🙏🙏🙏 user1 its been almost 24 hours since you posted this video and im still 😲!! YOU’RE INCREDIBLE user5 absolutely amazing! unexpected, captivating, touching… 10/10! yourbrother Kinda sucks that I don’t even feel like teasing you this time. I’m just proud.

↳ sisterinlaw Printed and framed already. ↳ yourinstagram … i dont even know what to say right now ↳ yourinstagram ＠sisterinlaw i’ll need a copy of that pls

harryfan your mind is so brilliant im so in love with this and i know i speak for the entire fandom when i say: THANK YOU 😭

↳ harryfan5 no really bc we’re so used to getting practically nothing that she coulve just done anything and we would’ve still died… and yet she gave us THIS? ↳ harryfan7 yn deserves the best in life period ↳ harryfan54 c’mon… it’s not THAT good

harrystyles 😲 so this was my story you were telling?

↳ yourinstagram i kept my side of the promise, didnt i? you were supposed to keep yours ↳ harrystyles fair enough. you’re welcome x ↳ yourinstagram 😌😌😌😌😌 ↳ yourinstagram thank you ↳ harrystyles you’re welcome x ↳ harryfan25 OMFGDSGFUAGFBH ↳ harryfan11 ＠yourinstagram ＠harrystyles sorry guys do you want us to leave you two alone? ↳ harryfan51 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 ↳ harryfan17 wdym you kept your side of the promise??? what did you promise????? what is it?????

harryfan10 pls we need more harry content already user7 Don’t go missing again, we miss you here!

Sep 9, 2021 •

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liked by yourinstagram, bestfriend, jefezoff and 5,187,031 others

harrystyles I’m honored to say ＠yourinstagram has turned the beginning of this new chapter into a lovely short-movie, one you can watch right now on her youtube channel.

Thank you Yn for being so caring and respectful about everything and everyone involved in this project. To watch this idea turn into reality has been nothing but inspiring.

Welcome to the team, it’s too late to back out now. x

view all 203,557 comments

bestfriend this moment is all mine. 20+ years of friendship are FINALLY paying off.

↳ user3 you’re so unserious i love it fgajdujn ↳ yourinstagram im doing it just for you <3

harryfan5 noooooo I can’t do this my heart can’t take it pls stop 😭😭 harryfan23 I CANT BELIEVE YNS FIRSTS WORDS TO HIM WERE SHUT THE FUCK UP HAHAHAHAHA annetwist What a wonderful job you’ve done dear ＠yourinstagram 🥰

↳ yourinstagram ❤️ ↳ harryfan54 🙄

harryfan66 who are you and what have you done to the real harry? 🧐

↳ harryfan14 for real tho lmao ↳ harryfan74 yup. ive been saying it: another strategy just to get a random famous on harrys back. as usual.

harryfan9 NOT HARRY EXPOSING THE FIRST TIME THEY TALKED????

↳ harryfan3 and the fact that HE texted her first??? ↳ harryfan9 pls!!! molly gave me your nUmBeR 🤪🤪

harryfan15 oh you’re so sick for this AHDUAJHDJ yourinstagram THOSE messages? REALLY???

↳ harrystyles I’ve been explicitly forbidden to post a picture with you so I had to improvise. ↳ yourinstagram ok but did you also have to conveniently leave my next message out of it? ↳ harrystyles Yes x.

Sep 9, 2021 •

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— — — — —

PART 5: FROM SAN ANTONIO

— — — — —

#harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles fake social media #harry styles smau #harry styles social media au #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

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narryffdreaming · 7 months ago

Text

A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — ONE

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

Author's note: You have no idea how much I love these characters and how nervous I am to finally share this story again. I posted ATTTF for the first time back in 2022 but never got to finish it, so I'm hoping I'll get to do it this time! If you read this, I hope you enjoy it, and please be gentle with them! (lol)

PART ONE: 5,4k words

The sky is still dark when the Uber driver drops Aurora off at Stansted airport.

The polite man, who just kept her company for an hour and a half, wishes her a safe trip, and Aurora smiles, waving him a last goodbye and wishing him a good day right before she shuts the door of his black Toyota Prius. Once alone, a light breeze tickles her shoulders, but she doesn't give it enough time to settle as she rearranges the strap of the navy duffel bag on her shoulder and turns around, then sets her feet into motion.

Hopefully, she isn't late. She doesn't think she is. She left the house forty minutes before she needed to, and the ride to get there was shorter than expected because of the early hour, so she shouldn't be.

Still, she wants to make sure.

Just in case.

You can blame it on the fact that she hasn't spent a weekend with her friends in years. Or that it is the first time she's going out since… Well, since everything in her life turned upside down.

The strap of her bag slips from her shoulder, and Aurora catches it between her fingers. She puts it back in place and tightens her grip around the soft fabric, turning sideways to squeeze herself between a group of people that's happily chatting on the sidewalk. An apology leaves her mouth as she runs past them, but they don't seem to care nor notice they're standing in her way — or in everyone's way.

Has the Stansted airport always been this crowded?

The lights are bright outside, and the glass walls reveal how equally well-lit it is inside the terminal building. When she reaches the automatic doors, they take a moment to open, and she stops. It gives her enough time to catch a glimpse of her reflection, and her stomach quivers. Her hair is messy, the sports bag she's carrying doesn't match the maxi dress she's wearing, and she's showing off too much cleavage for a woman her age.

Those are too many things to notice in one quick glance, and she wishes she hadn't. Still, it is too early in the morning to feel insecure about the way she looks, and she doesn't have time for that. She has a flight to catch.

(Also, she really needs to pee right now.)

So she breathes in deeply and darts her eyes down, then takes her free hand up to her chest and pulls the fabric up. When she moves next, she keeps her sight fixed on the floor, then grabs the pendant of her necklace between her fingers and walks through the doors, biting the flesh inside of her cheek and fidgeting with the gold disk as her feet drag her inside the airport.

Everything feels slow and heavy. And there's a mix of nervousness and anticipation that's building up inside her. It's unsettling, but it keeps her moving, at least.

Once inside, Aurora looks up again. She turns her head to one side, then to the other, short nails never letting go of her necklace.

The wide open area in front of her leads to multiple check-in desks from several different airlines, but she ignores all of them, aiming solemnly on the huge departure boards placed around the terminal.

She doesn't have any luggage to drop, and her boarding pass is printed and ready inside her bag — and, just in case, there's also a copy of it saved on her phone — but she wants to make sure she won't be running late if she takes another five minutes for a quick run to the toilets before standing in line to get through security.

Her determination drives her forward, and she only stops walking when she's right in front of the closest monitor. She blinks a couple of times, making sense of all the information while searching for the only flight she cares about. And it only takes her a minute till she finds it:

6:45, Ryanair, Naples.

She drops her shoulders, and a yawn eases from her mouth, along with a shaky laughter.

She is fine. Everything's just fine. Desks aren't even open for check-in yet, so she has plenty of time to go to the bathroom and wake herself up. There's no need to collapse.

At some point she'll have to face the fact that she didn't sleep at all last night, but she plans to keep herself together and entertained until she's settled on her 2 hours and 45 minutes flight.

Then, she'll sleep.

Aurora turns around, and wanders her eyes to find the nearest toilets. She can't tell when was the last time she's been at Stansted Airport, but everything feels different from what she remembers. Did they go through renovations? Or has it always been big and hectic like this?

Well, it's not like Aurora is familiar with airports, anyway. She doesn't travel that much, and London has too many of them for her to get familiar with. The last time she went somewhere — anywhere — was for Noah's birthday, when she and Zack took him to Disneyland Paris for a quick celebration. They took a flight from Heathrow, though, and that place was so big that it did nothing but overwhelm her. So much that she barely remembers it.

Her chest tightens, and she closes her hand in a fist around the pendant.

A lot has changed since Noah's third birthday. In fact, everything changed because of Noah's third birthday. And things never stopped changing since then. Not even a year and a month later.

Oh God… In a couple of years she is going to be sitting on a leather couch, facing the traumatizing memories she and Zack created for him and apologizing for ruining his childhood.

She knows she will. She can see it happening.

A man bumps into her, and Aurora stumbles forward. She looks over her shoulder and apologizes, but he isn't around to listen anymore. Sighing, she lets go of her necklace and shifts her bag from one shoulder to the other, holding the strap to keep it firmly in place.

What was she even—Oh, toilets!

Right!

She shakes her head.

It takes her another minute until she sees some directions that will help her get there, and then she's walking again.

The toilets she's heading to are placed in a much quieter area, where even the lights are dim. Only a few people are there, seemingly waiting for time to pass — some occupying themselves with their phones on the chairs, but most of them laying on the floor, sleeping next to their luggage or using their backpacks as pillows. A baby cries somewhere distant in the terminal, and there's some coughing coming from a corner behind her, but besides that, everything's quiet.

She reaches the door at the exact moment a lady is walking out, and she almost bumps into her. They exchange polite smiles, and Aurora takes a step aside to make room for her to walk by. Once the lady is off her way, Aurora moves inside, then lets the door shut behind her, and everything goes silent.

The room is bright again, and someone must've just cleaned the place, because the smell of disinfectant is fresh and strong.

Aurora sighs. She heads to the last stall, walking past a row of other six on her way there.

After relieving herself, she stops by the sinks and washes her hands, taking the opportunity to look around her. And mostly to look at her.

The mirrors are big, almost covering the entire green wall between the sink and the ceiling, from side to side. To be fair, staring at her reflection doesn't sound like a good idea, but she promised she would try her best to go into the weekend with a positive mindset, and she can't do that while feeling so insecure about herself.

She lets the duffel bag slide down her arm and places it between her legs, then crouches to find her washcloth inside it. Holding the soft fabric between her fingers, she closes the zipper and stands up again.

Public toilets aren't the ideal places for skincare routines, but she's determined to do the best of whatever she can get. She places the washcloth on her shoulder and grabs the hair tie from her wrist, pulling her locks into a bun and getting them out of her way. Hunching down, she turns the tap on and puts her hands together, filling them with water before splashing it on her face. The coldness makes her wince, but it also makes her shoulders relax, and she pulls her lips into a timid smile.

She repeats the same process three times before grabbing the washcloth again and placing it against her skin. She doesn't rub it, but instead lets the fabric soak in the dampness. Finally putting her hands down, she looks at her reflection in the mirror, and bites the insides of her cheek. Her face looks more alive now that she's freshened up, but the rest of her body doesn't feel the same.

When she'd put that maxi dress on, an hour before leaving her house, she didn't think she would end up regretting the outfit. It's been probably a decade since the last time she's put it on, sure, but it used to be one of her favorites, and she always went for it when she didn't know what to wear. She used to consider it her safe choice.

And yet, wearing it now feels everything but safe.

It also doesn't feel nearly as comfortable as it used to. Maybe it's because of the straps… She never wears sleeveless outfits anymore, let alone something that's held by such a thin string of fabric. And the V neck… Oh God. How did she walk around London showing off her chest so comfortably? How did she go to class not bothering about people being able to see the curve of her breasts?

Even its color shade looks weird now, and she's not sure she enjoys how that rust red looks on her anymore. Her body hasn't seen the sun in a really long time, and her skin doesn't look very appealing — it's dry, and filled with stretch marks.

Honestly, the full length and loose fit are the only things she can still appreciate from the dress — although around her waist it doesn't feel as loose as it used to feel before.

Shit. Did she even pack one thing that's going to make her feel good about herself in Italy?

No, of course she didn't. Because Madison was the one who helped her pack for the weekend, so of course all of her choices included the tiniest, brightest and most provocative outfits that were hidden and forgotten inside of her closet since… Well, basically since Aurora stopped being single, to be honest.

"You need to loosen up," she'd said. Along with "you're divorced, not dead," and "your tits need to see the sun; they are gorgeous, they deserve it".

Alone inside the restroom, Aurora rolls her eyes at the memory of her best friend's words. Obviously, the whole chit-chat did nothing to convince her. Most of the old clothes Maddie had found hadn't seen the light of day in almost a decade, and Aurora doesn't have the same body she used to have back then to simply put them on again.

Not to mention she doesn't want Noah to ever see her wearing any of those outfits. It's not the image of a mother she wants him to remember. And she's been already messing up so many things for him, that she doesn't need to add "being an embarrassing mom" to the list — and she won't add an accusation of excessively exposing her son to his own mother's naked body in those future therapy sessions she already knows she'll be paying for.

Call it damage control, if you want to. After all, that's how she's facing it herself.

But then Maddie had put her hands on her shoulders, stared deeply into her eyes, and said: "it's going to be us. Just us. It's the perfect and safest place to have some fun and try out of your comfort zone. And you and I both know how much you need it right now." And Aurora couldn't fight her on that, so she said yes and agreed to put all of her jeans and t-shirts away for the weekend — which she can now confirm was a terrible, terrible decision.

She sighs. Again.

It's going to be a long weekend, isn't it?

Still examining herself, she turns around and looks over her shoulder, facing her back on the mirror. Fortunately, it doesn't show too much skin, although the flesh of her armpits could be more covered.

There was a time when Aurora felt breezy and comfortable on her own body. When she looked at herself and felt beautiful and free. Even sexy. Now, though, the simple thought makes her laugh. It sounds ridiculous, and she can't even make sense of it.

Biting her lip, she turns around one more time, and something catches her eye. She stops midway, narrowing her eyes to find out what it is, and then, she raises her eyebrows, and a spark of hope ignites inside her — she completely forgot about the adjustable straps!

Fully turning around, she squats down and puts the washcloth away, then stands up, already reaching both hands towards her back to tighten and shorten the strings. It isn't easy, and for a moment she even considers to hide inside of a stool and take the dress off to do it more comfortably, but eventually she succeeds, and the slight change instantly makes her chest feel more covered.

It's a small win, but Aurora is serious about making the best of whatever she can get that weekend, so she takes it, and smiles at her reflection.

The gold disk shines on her chest, and she takes it between her fingers, pulling it to her mouth and placing a soft kiss to it. She's really going to miss spending the weekend with Noah, but she knows she needs to take care of herself to be able to take care of him, and that it's also important for him to spend some time with his dad. Besides, it's only going to be three days — not even that. By Sunday afternoon she'll be back home with him, and everything will go back to normal.

Yes, see? That's it: two days.

Two relaxing and fun days with her friends, and then everything will go back to normal.

The line to get through security is huge.

Aurora stops behind a chatty and cheerful family of five, and sighs. She puts her frizzy hair down, then crosses her arms under her chest and lifts one hand to fidget aimlessly with her pendant.

Honestly? She can't wait to get to Italy. She can't wait to finally see that beautiful ocean in the Amalfi Coast. It's a trip she always dreamed about, but also one she didn't think would actually happen — and one she's sure she wouldn't be actually embarking on if she hadn't been forced to by her friends.

Aurora's mouth turns into a smile, and she looks at the ground, taking the pendant to cover her lips.

Despite everything that went wrong with her own marriage, she is happy for Lucy and Theo. She truly is. Just because things didn't work out for her, it doesn't mean they won't for them. Besides, their relationship is the only thing between all of them that hasn't changed since their graduation, so who knows? Maybe they'll have better luck than her and Zack. Maybe Lucy won't mess things up like she did, and maybe Theo won't—

"Auri?" a deep and low voice calls. Aurora furrows her brows and takes her hand down from her lips, putting her necklace back to its place. "Aurora?"

She turns on her feet, finding flamingos on a loose black shirt. Blinking a couple of times, she darts her eyes up, and meets the face of a friend she hasn't thought of in a really long time.

She widens her eyes, and places the palm of her hand on her cheek.

"Oh my God," she whispers. She raises her eyebrows, and her mouth curves into a smile at the same time it falls open. "Harry!"

She breathes out a laugh and takes a step forward, then stands on her tiptoes and throws her arms around his neck.

The duffel bag on her shoulder follows the movement of her body, hitting Harry's stomach before she can stop it.

"Ouch," he groans into her ear.

Aurora pulls away. "Sorry, sorry—"

He chuckles, hunching down slightly and placing his hands in the middle of her back.

"'S okay, c'mere," he says, pulling her body closer and crossing his arms around her waist, embracing her into a tight hug.

Heat takes over her body, radiating through her chest and tingling from head to toe. It's so good to see him! She can't help the smile that lightens up her face, so she closes her eyes and rests her chin on his shoulder, circling his neck with the same affection he's putting into his hold.

"What are you doing here?!" she asks, still too excited to let him go.

Did he get even taller?

Or is he just stronger than he used to be?

"Probably the same thing as you?" Harry chuckles.

Shit. She's so stupid! Of course Harry would be at Lucy and Theo's party. Of course! After all, he was part of the group, too. Sure, maybe the last to join and the youngest of them all, and also the only one living across the world, but still… He was—he is part of the group. And Lucy and Theo would invite him, too. Of course they would. How didn't she think of him when thinking about the weekend?

"Don't wanna break the moment," Harry murmurs, rubbing his hand up and down her back, "but I think we gotta walk."

Aurora jumps away, holding her weight on his shoulder and twisting her neck to see the line ahead of her. She slides her fingers down, watching as the family of five gathers their things. They aren't rushing, though, and it doesn't seem like they'll be taking more than two steps forward.

Still smiling, she bites her bottom lip to keep her excitement down, then looks back at him.

Harry is standing with his arms loose on each side of his body, chin down while he stares down at his chest.

Following his sight, Aurora finds her own hand, and she widens her eyes. She's clutching at the second button, where both sides of his black shirt with pink flamingos meet. His hairy chest is on display, just like tiny bits of black ink tattooed on his skin and the long golden string of a necklace.

A rush runs through her fingers, and she withdraws her arm.

"Sorry," she whispers, pulling her hand to her own chest and squeezing it into a fist.

Harry clears his throat.

"'S okay," he murmurs. Without looking at her, he straightens his back and stretches an arm, pointing out to the empty space in front of them. "Shall we?"

Aurora moves quickly, shuffling on her feet and nodding in silence. She turns around, and the strap of her bag falls from her shoulder, dropping to the crook of her arm. She winces, and stumbles a little.

"Shit."

"Here," Harry says, and the weight on her elbow disappears. "Let me."

Frozen, she watches — and feels — the way he gently grabs her wrist and takes her bag out of her arm, pulling it to himself.

"Harry…" She drops her shoulders. "You don't have to."

"Just walk, c'mon. We're holding the line."

Aurora peeks over his shoulder, and certainly people don't seem friendly while watching them. She sighs, but turns around and walks.

It only takes them three steps to reach the family of five once again, though, and she's back to facing him.

Harry is rearranging the straps on his shoulders, holding two duffel bags now — his own, and hers.

"Okay," she says, stretching her arm to him, "now give me that."

He chuckles, and dodges her. "Nope."

"C'mon!" She rolls her eyes, but a smile dances on her lips. "I can carry my own bag, okay?"

Harry shrugs. "Never said you couldn't."

She sighs, and tilts her head. "Harry…"

"Will you stop being stubborn?"

Harry grins widely, contrasting his words, and his eyes brighten with amusement.

Aurora lifts her brows and parts her lips. A shaky chuckle coming out of her mouth. "I—Excuse me?"

Harry diverts his eyes somewhere behind her, and he tilts his chin up.

"C'mon, we gotta walk again."

Lifting her left eyebrow, Aurora crosses her arms, and stares silently at him.

Harry glances back at her, then presses his lips together, watching her for a moment as he wanders his eyes around her face. He purses his mouth, and then he cracks into soft, genuine laughter.

"Ha!" He throws his head back for a moment, chuckling lightly, then looks back at her. "I totally forgot you could do that."

Aurora's beaming, just like him, but her heart is racing, and her breath gets stuck in her throat. His smile is really contagious, framed by deep dimples on his cheeks and wrinkles all around his eyes. It's hard not to feel mesmerized by it.

"Uh…" She blinks a couple of times. "Do what, exactly?"

He walks, prompting her to walk along with him. Still smiling, he points a finger up, right to her face. "The thing… Y'know. With your eyebrow."

"Oh…" Aurora widens her eyes for a second. "Right."

She laughs and shakes her head, relaxing the muscles of her entire body, including her face.

She takes one hand to her forehead, and rubs the tip of her middle finger on her left eyebrow. Even though it's something she used to intentionally do pretty often when she was younger, usually to prove a point, it was also something that came up so naturally to her that she never paid too much attention to it. And a habit that, with time, she left behind. However, now that she found out Noah thinks it's super cool that his mom can lift only one eyebrow while most people can't, she's been consciously doing it more often. She never cared about being a cool mom, to be honest, but lately it seems the title started to mean something to her.

They stop walking, much closer to the metal detectors now, and Aurora stretches her arm again. She doesn't say a word, simply reaching for the strap of her bag on his shoulder.

"Auri..." Harry chuckles. He grabs her wrist between his fingers, then slides his touch to her hand, taking it to his mouth. He places a single kiss on her knuckles, and looks at her. "Please, 's nothing. I promise."

Aurora presses her lips together tightly, words getting stuck on her throat. It only lasted a second, but it was enough to keep the warmth of his lips lingering onto her cold skin.

"Okay." She nods. Her voice is softer, and she looks down to smile. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he says, taking her hand down and gently letting it go. "Did you bring a jacket?"

Raising her head, Aurora narrows her eyes, and meets his stare. "What?"

"Your hand's really cold." He shrugs. "Do you want my jacket?"

Aurora chuckles, and waves him off. "Oh no, I'm fine. My hands are always cold."

Harry pulls his brows together. He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly shuts it again.

"Anyway…" She clears her throat. "How are you? We haven't talked in… I don't know… Five? Six years?"

Harry looks down and nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Around that, yeah."

"Hmm… Well, I had no idea you were back in the UK!"

"Uh, yeah." He shifts on his feet, and shrugs. "Came back a couple of weeks ago, actually. Haven't seen anyone yet."

Taking one hand out of his pockets, he lifts his arm and scratches his jaw. The movement draws Aurora's attention to the facial hair he seems to be growing, but also to his chipped yellow nail polish and the three rings he's carrying on his fingers. And when he rakes the same hand through his curls, pulling his hair away from his face, she notices the amount of new tattoos covering his slightly tanned skin.

His movements are subtle, almost timid, but Aurora is hypnotized. She hasn't seen him since… Damn, when was the last time she saw him? He was at her wedding, she remembers that, because she remembers the floral-printed suit he was wearing, and that his hair used to be longer than—

Aurora gasps, and Harry jolts.

"What?"

"Your hair!" Uncrossing her arms, she takes a step forward. She stands on her tiptoes and reaches for his head, touching the tips of his short curls while switching her voice to a soft murmur, "It's so… Short."

Harry shoves his hand back inside his pocket, but doesn't say anything, and Aurora entertains herself stroking the hair at the back of his neck, and then pulling some longer bits around his ears.

"Oh my God…" she murmurs again.

For as long as she's known Harry, she's known him with curls long enough to french braid, pull into buns and even attempt some ponytails — he hated the last ones, by the way. The girls used to tease him for having softer and shiner hair than any of them, and they all even went through a phase of trying to use the same hair products as him.

And yet, looking at him now, she's not sure if there's length enough for even a hair clip. Well, maybe a tiny one, to keep those curls that fall into his forehead out of the way… But still…

"The line," Harry murmurs.

Aurora pulls her arm to her chest, and lands her heels back on the floor.

"Right."

She turns around and takes a couple of steps forward, and an unsettling feeling grows in the pit of her stomach. It squeezes her lungs, and it makes her mouth go dry, so she presses her lips into a hard line and swallows. Then, she takes a deep breath in. And another one.

There's silence between them, until Harry clears his throat.

"I cut it as soon as I left," he explains, and Aurora glances at him over her shoulder. "I think this is the longest it's been since then." He shrugs. "I'll probably do something about it next week."

Aurora hums, and curls one side of her mouth up.

"You got a lot of new tattoos, as well."

Harry smiles, albeit sheepishly, and nods once. "Guess I did."

Facing away from him, Aurora can't help but smile again.

What a weird thing it is, to stand in front of Harry after so many years and find everything about him so familiar, yet completely different and strange at the same time. To have grown so distant from his friendship, and yet feel as close to him as she's ever felt before.

How could she forget about him?

How could she go through life without thinking about a friend? Without wondering about how they are, or what's going on with their lives?

Shit.

Tapping one foot on the floor, she grabs her necklace between her fingers.

She can't spiral into this right now. She hates coming face to face with the person she's become, and this weekend isn't for her to swell into guilt and drama. She's supposed to have fun. She's supposed to let things go. She's supposed to—

"Auri?"

Aurora stops the steady movement of her foot, and looks at him over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

Someone from security calls the next passenger, and she follows Harry's movements to walk forward, not even bothering to look where she's going.

"Nothing." Harry shakes his head, dismissing the subject, but Aurora can see the way his brain is working hard to figure something out. Noah tends to do the same a lot of the time — he'll have questions, and when he doesn't understand the answer, he'll purse his lips and shift his eyes around him, as if looking for a different explanation.

It appears Harry is going through the same process, because he keeps staring at her arms, and at her hands. And when he pinches at his bottom lip — something she recognizes as an old habit of his — it's enough for her to confirm her suspicion.

"Harry…" She chuckles and rolls her eyes, making sure to keep her voice soft as she calls him out. "Don't be silly. Just say what's on your mind, c'mon."

An amused and short laugh leaves his chest, and she smiles at the way his entire face lights up again.

"'S nothing… I was just… Because you… I mean, you don't seem to be taking a lot of stuff… Then I realized you… Well… I was wondering…"

There's a bit of silence, and it quickly becomes clear he won't complete any of his half-sentences.

Aurora half-smiles. "Yes?"

"Sorry." He shakes his head. "Is your husband coming, too?"

"Oh…" She lifts her brows, then puts them down again.

She nods once, understanding where he's coming from. It is a genuine question, a very reasonable doubt. After all, the last time they saw each other was at the wedding — her wedding — and not many people know about the many changes in her life since then. So she can't expect him to know, nor blame him for asking.

She doesn't want to say the words out loud, though. Is there a way to tell him without actually telling him?

"Hm, no," she tries. "It's just me. Zack's with Noah."

Harry hums. He gives her a lopsided smile, and nods.

Aurora frowns, and turns around to face the line.

That probably wasn't helpful. It didn't announce Zack isn't in her life anymore. It just seemed like he stayed home with Noah.

Which he did, yes, but he isn't at home with Noah. He is at his own place, a very fancy apartment he didn't struggle at all to buy after their divorce.

Ugh! Why is it so hard for her to announce to the world that Zack isn't her husband anymore? He hasn't been for a while now, and it's not like she wishes he would still be. Honestly, figuring out her relationship with Zack keeps being exhausting, no matter how much distance she puts between them.

Will that ever change? Will things ever get easier for her?

"How's he, by the way?" Harry's voice sounds behind her. "Noah, I mean. Just turned four, right?"

Aurora bites her lip, but it isn't enough to hold back the grin on her face.

People move forward, and they walk a couple of steps. There are only three passengers left in front of the family of five.

Aurora nods.

"Yes, he's four now. And he's the most adorable kid in the world! So, so, so sensitive, and so smart" —she walks forward again, but doesn't stop talking— "and now he's getting into this stage of trying to do things by himself, and it's just so endearing to watch! And he's really chatty, too, oh my. He loves telling stories, so he keeps—"

Aurora widens her eyes, and turns around.

Harry is beaming at her, and she covers her mouth with one hand.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles against her palm, then puts it back down. "Sorry, sorry. I'm so—I mean, I know, I'm one of those mums now."

"What?!" Harry laughs. "I was loving it! Was even hoping you'd show me a couple of pictures."

Her cheeks warm up, and she looks at her feet.

"Right."

Her hair falls to her face, and she takes both hands to put it behind her ears.

Please, don't blush.

Please just keep it together.

"Hey, I mean it." He places one hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. His hand is warm, but his rings are cold and her skin tingles with goosebumps. Shit. Now, her earlier prayer becomes a silent cry of help for him not to notice her reaction. "He sounds a lot like you, by the way."

Her lips twitch, and she bites her bottom lip to hold back the stupid smile that keeps looming on her face.

"Well… Would you really like to see some pictures? 'Cause I have plenty of them."

Peeking up at him, she finds him staring and smiling. Harry's hand is still on her shoulder, but it promptly circles her neck, grabbing her opposite side and pulling her forward.

Aurora holds her breath, crushing against Harry's chest as he squeezes her body and kisses the top of her head.

"God," he groans, his lips brushing her hair as they move, "you're so adorable. 'S so good to see you again."

Hii! If you're here, thank you so much for reading part one :) it truly means the world to me! I care a lot about this story and these characters, so I'd love to know your thoughts about it — and I hope you'll feel comfortable to share them with me!

Once again, thank you for reading! :)

Dani

PART TWO

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles writing

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