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katytheinspiredworkaholic · 4 years ago

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✏, hotchreid, first kiss 🥺

You don’t just get a blurb honey, you get the whole damn night. I’ll eventually start writing blurbs and not full-length oneshots for these asks, but Cee (my love my family my favorite always) is who got me back into CM in the first place so yours was always going to be the long, fleshed out version. I love you so my dear.

((P.S. Yes I’m still working on the 200follower asks xD I’m so sorry life got in the way and I discovered hcs but I’m being responsible and finishing all of these now I promise!!!))

Personal plot bunny: Hotch invites Reid over to help with a research paper/with Jack and Reid gets to see his boss all domestic and soft, and in turn Spencer just kind of fits in his home seamlessly and Hotch kisses him as he leaves.

Word Count: 3107

It’s a perfectly ordinary day in late November when Hotch opens his apartment door to Reid standing there in the clothes he’d worn to work earlier that day. Satchel over his shoulder, wrapped in jacket and scarf, and giving him a small quirk of a smile in greeting -- still very obviously thrown off kilter that Hotch had invited him over in the first place.

When Reid said he’d lend him a hand on his most recent research paper, the younger agent had probably expected them to do it at the office. Interviews and research were all a big part of having a Behavioral Science subunit at the FBI, and published papers were a requirement from all BAU members to aid in this endeavor. Every team had to keep a steady output of resources and research studies going just to keep funding for the department afloat. He may be Unit Chief, but Hotch was no exception to these requirements, even with as much work as he has to put in on the regular.

Usually, he can do his research and piece together papers in between his daily paperwork. But this week Jess is sick with a stomach flu, and Jack hadn’t gotten to spend time with Hotch in what feels like a month. So the easiest solution was obviously to invite Reid to have dinner with them at his home, entertain him while he read over the drafted paper and helped Hotch out.

Obviously.

The only reasonable option, really.

“Thanks for coming, Reid,” Hotch greets back with a softened expression as he looks him up and down. “Did you even go home first?” The very first thing Hotch always does is change out of his suit when he gets home, shedding that armour as best he can to switch mindsets between Agent Hotchner of the FBI, and Aaron Hotchner the ever-stressed-out single dad. That evening donning worn jeans and a heather grey Henley to better accommodate himself within the space.

“Oh -- no, I didn’t see much point,” Reid shrugs, then motioning to his satchel which is now filled with books that weren’t there when he’d left the bull pen a couple hours before. “I stopped by the law library in Georgetown and found a few more references, just in case you were using the Favero citations instead of Weston and I don’t have all of those read yet -- or I didn’t. I do now. But I still brought them--”

Hotch smiles, a real smile -- small as it is, but no less fond of Reid going out of his way to help him. But before he can thank him again Jack’s socked feet come thundering down the hall behind him.

“Dr. Spencer! Dr. Spencer! Dr. Spencer!” And he’s slipping past Hotch, smooth and fluid as water, attaching himself to Reid’s legs and waist in a hug with a big smile that looks so much like Aaron’s own. When he’d been younger, only about three or four years old, Jack had been deathly scared of Doctor’s visits. It had been Reid’s idea to have Jack start calling him ‘Dr. Spencer’ to help alleviate some of that fear, associating the moniker with his non-threatening and familiar face. Reid had been much younger then, too, and that had helped the tactic work like a charm. Haley had been over the moon when his reverse psychology worked out so well.

“Jack! Woah, you got taller!” Reid’s whole demeanor changes. A little more animated, more comfortable, even -- and Hotch could remember a time when Reid hadn’t even wanted to hold a child for fear of the interaction. Now, he was always the first to talk to one if JJ didn’t beat him to it. “How’ve you been?” “Good!” Jack says excitedly, barreling over the small talk in ways only children can. “Dad says you’re going to help him with his homework, can you help me with mine too?!”

Reid smiles even wider and chances a glance at Hotch that he feels in his chest. “You bet, I love helping with homework.”

Jack just scrunches his nose up at him. “Why?”

“Because it’s fun.”

“Homework isn’t fun.”

“Well, maybe you’ve been doing it wrong.”

“Let’s let Dr. Reid in from the hallway,” Hotch interrupts with a laugh, herding his son and the younger agent inside. “Jack, go get your homework and you can do it at the table,” Hotch says as he takes Reid’s coat and watches him kick off his shoes by the door. Mismatched socks prominent against the hardwood floors. Making himself at home, shedding some of the layers and getting comfortable in the space much like Aaron does every day after work. “Hope you like spaghetti. It won’t be as good as Rossi’s.”

“Who doesn’t love spaghetti,” Spencer grins with a soft laugh. “Rossi’s is almost too fancy for me, anyway.”

“A man of simple tastes,” Hotch teases him.

“I’m easily impressed.”

“Lucky me.”

It slips out, the low, comfortable banter, and Reid’s eyes are alight and Aaron feels himself smiling enough his dimples show, and he leads the way to the kitchen where dinner is already in the works on the stove. Filling the small condo with the smell of tomato sauce and garlic.

Jack and Reid set up at the kitchen bartop where they can watch Hotch finish cooking and stay within reach of conversation. It doesn’t take long for Hotch to finish making dinner, or for Jack to finish his homework spurred on by Reid’s strange enthusiasm for math problems. With how much time they spend talking about psychology and sociology (and sometimes even philosophy) Hotch always forgets one of Reid’s Ph.D.’s is in mathematics.

“Numbers just make sense,” he explains, when Hotch brings it up while drizzling olive oil on the drained pasta on the stove. “There’s always a right answer and the rest are wrong. It’s comforting, to an extent, but predictable -- that’s why I shifted focus from sciences to humanities. There’s no right or wrong answers in philosophy, it’s all argumentative. Always evolving. I prefer that, it’s no fun having all the answers.”

And coming from someone who does always have all the right answers, that must mean something profound to the younger man. One conversation outside the walls of the BAU and Hotch already feels like he understands Reid more than he has in a long time.

Dinner runs so smoothly it’s as if Reid is always there for it. Jack even finishes all of his food and helps with the dishes before Hotch has to ask him to. Making the two men exchange a glance and Hotch ask, “You charge by the hour?” and Reid laughs into his water glass in reply. They end up talking a bit about the paper Hotch has been working on, along with about a dozen other things Reid launches into in side tangents -- from the books he’d read during his brief visit to Georgetown that afternoon, to his most recent philosophical debate he had with his doctoral advisor about his thesis paper he’ll have to submit at the end of next month.

“Do you need time to piece it together? I didn’t know you were that close to your next Ph.D.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Reid waves him off. “I just need a weekend where we are actually in town and not on a case, and I’ll get it finished.”

“I’ve been working on this paper for the past six months,” Hotch all but balks in disbelief. “How can you write a Ph.D. dissertation in a weekend?”

“Well, I’m not the Unit Chief or a single parent,” Reid points out with a gentle grin, and Hotch feels one pulling at his own lips as well. “But it’s mostly written anyway, just all up here.” He points to his head, and Hotch bets he could recite the paper verbatim with what he writes up when he has the time.

“You could always write it on the jet,” Hotch says.

“I do,” Reid smirks, and Hotch can’t help but roll his eyes. “In my head, someone is usually taking up the table with a headstart on paperwork.”

“I think they can be talked into relinquishing some table top space,” Hotch says, until Reid gives him a look. “Oh, you mean me?”

“You spread out everything to keep it organized in piles.”

“I’d share with you.”

“You told Rossi to use the couch last week when he wanted to answer emails,” Reid says with a barely contained laugh.

“Yeah, well, he’s not you,” Hotch admits before he can take it back, and Reid almost answers -- mouth open and everything -- when Jack comes back and is all but begging ‘Dr. Spencer’ to help him with his science fair project he hadn’t even decided on.

The rest of the evening ends up with the three holed up in Hotch’s office, Reid surrounded by Law books and reading material he hasn’t gotten to sift through before, Hotch with his drafted paper printed out for Reid’s ease of access, and Jack with his science textbook and a notebook already talking Reid’s ear off about a science project for the spring.

But once the time starts to tip into the later hours of the night, Hotch tells Jack to get ready for bed and say goodnight to Dr. Reid.

“Goodnight, Dr. Spencer. Thanks for your help,” Jack says politely, ingrained in him by his father and Reid smiles a little too bright and soft at the same time at how sweet it is he tries to be good for company.

“You know, Jack, you can just call me Spencer if you’d like,” he says, knowing that the older boy has already outgrown his fear of the doctor and the reverse psychology is no longer needed.

Jack looks a little confused for a moment. “Dad doesn’t.”

“Well, your dad can, too -- if he wants,” Reid says, looking to Hotch and they share a look he once again can feel in his chest. Watching the whole interaction with a carefully guarded expression, but it melts under Reid’s glance and he isn’t quite sure what is there anymore. But whatever it is, it makes Reid smile softly at him.

“Okay, goodnight Spencer,” Jack interrupts their moment, and hugs Reid around the neck from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor. It jostles the younger man, and Hotch smiles wide and ducks his head down to hide it. But Reid hugs Hotch’s son back, and tells him goodnight, as well. “You’ll come back, right?”

“Of course, I’d love to,” Reid tells him, and -- satisfied -- Jack goes off to brush his teeth, leaving the two in a lull of heavy silence. “Sorry, I think I just invited myself over, some time.”

“You’re welcome anytime.” And he means that, knows Reid knows that as he looks at him a little more soundly than before. “Not just for work.” If that needed to be said.

And if Reid’s face flushes a little darker in the low lighting, Hotch doesn’t mention. No matter how much he can’t seem to look away.

Reid looks over his entire paper while Hotch tucks Jack into bed, and is already making notes on it at his desk when the man returns. The next hour rolls into two, and Hotch drags another chair in from the kitchen so they can share his desk and work through bullet points on the paper but… it was pretty much done, from the start. Even Reid’s edits didn’t take them long. After a while they dissolve into just talking, discussions and anecdotes and sitting maybe a little too close and laughing so much and so loud sometimes they have to quiet themselves so they don’t wake Jack down the hall.

It’s almost 10:30 by the time they resurface from each other, before Hotch realizes Reid probably needs to go home because they both have to be at work bright and early. But this was… this was the best night he’s had in a long, long time, and he wants to do it again. Soon. More than soon. More than once. He thinks about all of this as he follows Reid to the front door and helps him gather the rest of his things.

“We should do this again, sometime,” Hotch mentions, hands in his pockets and trying to be more cool about this than he feels.

“I’d like that, I had a lot of fun tonight,” Reid answers, standing up from tying his shoes and giving him that bright, wide smile he doesn’t always feel comfortable enough to allow. It never fails to stall Hotch in his tracks, staring a little too long at his mouth than he should be.

“What if, next time, it’s just us? And no Jack?” he continues, elaboration just in case Reid doesn’t grasp what he’s asking. Reid is watching him with this look as if he’s unsure he heard correctly, and Hotch is nothing if not patient.

“I’d… I’d be okay with that,” Reid answers, slowly as he weighs some unseen options and gauges Hotch’s facial expressions to the most minute detail.

“Good. How about Saturday?”

He can see the moment it all clicks into place.

“...Are you asking me on a date?” Reid asks, a little winded.

“If that’s alright with you,” Hotch says with a half smile. Once again sounding more confident than he should in the face of how Reid’s eyes start to dart around and he licks his lips nervously.

“I don’t know how -- how good I am with dates.” There’s a story behind that, and Hotch wants to know it, but he does his best to press Reid gently. Because… he’s been holding off asking the younger man for a long time, now, but after tonight he gets the feeling that he might not have needed to be so hesitant, after all.

“Oh?”

“Just -- the ritual of it all always throws me off. Dressing up and going out, and making conversation over dinner while trying to eat and maintain the other’s attention, and then keeping it all going if you manage to do that I just don’t always do so well one-on-one and --”

“Reid.” He pauses, then -- “Spencer.” And that stalls his stream of thought to words, catching Spencer’s attention and snagging it in the best way. “...we just did all of that. And it was great.” Hotch knows his own expression has softened around the edges over the course of the night, smiles easier to hold, eyes more expressive, and Spencer takes in every change and nuance with a well-practice eye and is… very obviously stunned by what he finds. “So -- I’d like to do it again. Saturday?”

Shocked, eyes a little wide, breath lost to the wind, Spencer waits a beat too long to answer. Enough to make Hotch nervous, before he answers in a sound that could have been a whisper if it had been quieter. A slight crack to it that betrays his emotion.

“Okay.”

Hotch gets a turn to be stunned, because he thought this had been about to take a very different turn. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“--Okay.”

Intelligent men that they were, that was the extent of the conversation, and then Reid is smiling that bright, sunshine laced smile and Hotch is trying to contain his own and -- Reid still needs to go home. So, biting his lip, Reid turns as if to leave -- is just about out the door when he stops and turns back so quick he almost runs into Hotch on the threshold.

“So… technically, that means this was our first date, then. Right?” he looks so goddamn hopeful, and like he has something further to add, that Hotch smiles outright and this time doesn’t bother hiding it.

“Technically, yes.” He supposes it was. And it really had been… a great night. Not a bad first date, at all.

Reid takes far too long trying to string together words after that. Keeps looking to Hotch then away to gather his thoughts, then back again as if in search of something; and it’s after about the third time that Hotch realizes what he’s getting at. What he’s trying to find a way to ask.

It hits him so silent and hard it about knocks the wind out of him.

Oh.

He can do that.

Hotch steps closer, about the same time Spencer opens his mouth like he’s finally figured out the right combination of words within the range of the English language to form a coherent sentence, and they all die on his tongue the moment Hotch guides him back with a hand on his hip. He’s done it before, gentle leading when Reid strays the wrong way or needs to be shifted in a crowded room on cases, and this time is just as easy and no different.

Except this time, Hotch isn’t maneuvering them to get past him. This time, he presses Spencer’s spine to the doorframe and leans in to capture his lips with his own. Right there, in the open doorway.

Hotch kisses him, and it’s perfect.

The gentle slide of lips is over before either know it, lasts longer than his racing heart can measure, and before Hotch can decide his next move Spencer tilts in closer and kisses him back, slow and methodical and Hotch feels that. Feels it the way he’s felt every moment they had and shared the whole night. His free hand finds that sharp jaw framed in messy curls getting longer all over again, and Spencer doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands beyond grasp at Hotch’s shirt at his sides and then --

Then Hotch pulls back enough that he can nudge his nose against Spencer’s carefully, a punctuation that ends the kiss soft and apologetic. Silently says that’s all they can do tonight. That there’s more, awaiting them, but that…

That had been one hell of a good first kiss.

“See you in the morning, Spencer.”

For once, Dr. Spencer Reid is speechless in an entirely new way, and he merely nods with lips still parted and a little darker from the kiss. From kissing him, and Hotch knows he stares more than he should, but that’s been a frequent occurrence lately. It’s just getting harder and harder to turn away, watch Reid -- Spencer -- smile at him in that quiet way only ever directed at him, and then walk away. But he lets it happen, feels every step even as he shuts the door behind him.

Because Hotch will see Spencer tomorrow.

And, one day, maybe he won’t have to watch him walk away at all.

#I'm so tired I can't even tell if this is good or not because OF COURSE these dorks would flirt over a damn research paper #tell me I'm wrong #also I'm a sucker for domestic hotchreid we all know this #but I hope you like this my dear I know it's hella long it just got away from me #Cee my love my light ilysm #asks #HotchReid #Heid #katyswriting #200followerasks

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years ago

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The Long Con Part Three

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: Cursing; a little angst; mostly fluff tho Summary: When Marcus had first come to your lecture to ask for your help, he had been hesitant.

Over the course of the following week, you spent more time with Marcus - both on the phone and in person - for the sake of getting a little more comfortable with one another. But to your surprise, there really wasn’t much that needed to be eased into. You went over to his place a couple more times, and he surprised you by showing up at your office once. He even plopped himself down on your crummy little office couch with a stack of quizzes and an answer key while the two of you chatted.

You’d been stunned to find how easily conversation flowed between the two of you, beyond his work at the Bureau. Sure, the two of you talked about his work, but he liked to hear about yours, too - about the student that had come to you for help with her thesis on Han Van Meegeren; about the freshman in your Art History 101 class that had turned up reeking of weed and raised their hand to clarify that you were discussing Michelangelo the painter, not the Ninja Turtle. Now and again, though, as things quieted between the two of you, Marcus would remind you how grateful that he was that you were doing this - that you didn’t have to, that he owed you one. You’d always lightly wave him off, tell him you’d never been to Austin and were getting free cake out of it. Marcus told you about growing up in Austin, living there; the band he’d been in in college, playing bass and singing; he told you about his ex-wife and ex-fiancé, and that he hadn’t given up on love yet. You told him about the endless days that you had spent at museums and galleries as a child, taking tours and falling in love with art and history. He never pressed you for details about your grandmother, about how you were moved from place to place, about when and how you began to fence her work for her. With Marcus, those things really didn’t seem to matter. But you felt so safe with Marcus, so comfortable that, well— You would’ve told him, if he asked. -- When Marcus had first come to your lecture to ask for your help, he had been hesitant. When the two of you got off of the plane in Austin, he was downright nervous.

The two of you used the flight going over your story again, running through some of the particulars of the week’s schedule that you hadn’t gotten to go over the week before. You also began to ease into that casual PDA that you knew his family would expect from the two of you - holding hands intermittently, touching the other on the knee to draw the other’s attention: twice, he’d leaned over and murmured in your ear to comment on the show that the person sitting in front of you was watching; once, you’d reached out and brushed back a stray strand of hair that had come loose from his otherwise controlled coif.

He’d been a little uneasy as you’d gotten on the plane, and slightly jittery during the trip. It wasn’t a lengthy flight, so it didn’t take terribly long for his nerves to intensify. His leg had started bouncing somewhere over Atlanta. It hadn’t gotten any better as the plane had started to descend. What discomfort had triggered in Marcus was a hometown fact info-dump that you could never have seen coming. And god, it was some of the nerdiest shit that you’d ever heard. “You know this airport has one of the country’s longest commercial runways?” He told you as he hauled your suitcase off of the baggage carousel. “Really?” You asked teasingly. Marcus nodded, seeming to miss your tone as he lifted his own off of the carousel and set it down. “It used to be an old Air Force base, back in the— the 40′s? It actually opened to the public in, uh—1999 and—” “Hey,” You reached out, cupping his face to focus him. He went quiet, lips parted in surprise. You offered him a gentle smile. “It’s going to be fine,” You insisted. Marcus’ shoulders relaxed a little, and he turned his head, pressing a kiss to one of your palms. The feeling sent a wave of warmth through you, and you smiled, sweeping a thumb along his cheekbone before you let your hands fall away. You had to remind yourself that those little touches would be commonplace throughout the week.

“Before we get out there,” He said quietly. “Mm?” “I know I’ve said this before, but I really, really appreciate you doing this. I mean you didn’t have to, and… I wanna thank you for being here with me.” You felt your stomach flutter at his thanks, and you nodded. “Thank you for trusting me to be,” You returned. Marcus’ eyes searched your face for a moment, warm and kind, and the urge to hide bubbled up in your chest. You didn’t know what he was looking for, and you didn’t know if he would find it. “C’mon. We don’t wanna keep your mom waiting,” You added, taking hold of the handle of your suitcase. Marcus nodded, shifting his bag onto his arm and taking hold of your free hand. You intertwined your fingers, glancing up at him to make sure it was alright. He smiled, giving your hand a squeeze in turn. “How do you know so much about the airport, anyway?” You asked curiously. “Oh-- I’ve got a cousin that works here.” “You’ve got all the inside dirt, huh? I see how it is.” “Marky!” You heard crowed from a little ways away. “Marky?” You repeated quietly, glancing up at him, and grinning when you saw an embarrassed flush tipping his ears. “Do not start using that--” “Oh I’m so using it,” You laughed as the two of you approached the woman that had called out to him, “Gimme your bag,” You urged, gently untangling your hand from Marcus’ to take hold of his duffel so that he could hug his mother unencumbered. “Thanks-- Hey, mom,” Marcus grinned, embracing his mom. You grinned, watching the two of them, listening as the two chattered a little as they held to one another. He was nearly a head and a half taller than she was. “Is there someone you’d like to introduce me to?” She asked, peering at you around his arm. Marcus smiled, leaning away from her. “Yeah, there is. C’mere, sweetheart,” He murmured, holding a hand out to you. You felt yourself thrill a little, bashful as you ducked your head a bit. The two of you hadn’t discussed pet names, but ‘sweetheart’ sounded...so terribly dear coming out of that man’s mouth. You stepped closer to Marcus as he introduced you, passing his bag back when he gestured for it. “This is my mother, Jill Pike.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Pike,” You said lightly, holding your hand out to shake hers. “Call me Jill-- Oh, come here,” Jill laughed, tugging you in for a hug without a moment’s hesitation. Your brows rose at the tug, but you took the hug that was offered, smiling and laughing a little bit. “Jill-- it’s a pleasure to meet you. Marcus talks about you all the time.” “Oh,” Jill leaned away, holding you at arm’s length, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too! I’ll admit Marky has been light on the details,” She shot Marcus a look, as he made careful study of his shoes. “Oh, ma’am, I’m afraid that’s my fault,” You cut in quickly, “I’ve been told I’m a little hard to pin down.” Jill’s brows rose. “Mark, this one is a firecracker! Where’d you two meet?” She asked, hooking her arm through yours and steering you toward the exit. “Work. She’s been kind enough to assist us on several cases. We’d be lost without her.” You shot Marcus a thankful smile over the top of Jill’s head as the two of you walked through the parking lot. “He’s being too sweet-- You guys’d be fine.” “No, not true,” Marcus volleyed back, “That break in the Rosepoint case? It would’ve taken us months to find that dealer-- and the forger.” “Weeks at best.” “You cut the time down, sweetheart, just-- Take the compliment,” Marcus pouted a little, and you rolled your eyes, smiling. “Well, I’m glad I could help.”

“You wanna sit up front?” Marcus offered, taking hold of your suitcase and lifting it into the trunk of his mom’s car.

“Why don’t you? Give you and your mom some extra face time before the week gets busy,” You said.

Jill smiled, giving your arm a light squeeze before letting go. Marcus rounded the car, opening the back door for you and pecking your cheek before you got in.

You’d been a little apprehensive when Marcus had told you that you’d be staying with his family for the duration of the visit. But apparently Marcus always stayed with his family when he went home now, and you didn’t want to further mess with the family dynamic. He’d reassured you that the house had room enough for you all to be comfortably situated. “My parents can be a little old-fashioned,” He’d warned, “You know-- unmarried couples can’t sleep together, that kinda thing, but the house has three bedrooms. I’ll be in my old room, and you’ll be bunking in Marnie’s with her massive canopy bed-- and her Air Supply poster.” You’d appreciated his reassurances. The two of you had certainly gotten more relaxed around one another in his apartment and your office, but it was one thing to be nearby one another. It was another entirely to share a bed. You felt your nerves roil up in you as Marcus and Jill chatted in the front seat. You contributed to the conversation a little, answered questions when they were asked of you, but said little else. You were careful not to use your phone for the duration of the car ride, not wanting to seem rude, or like you weren’t paying attention. As Jill pulled the car into the driveway of the house on the wooded hillside, you found yourself perking up a bit more, despite your trepidation. You noted Marcus glancing back to look at you, but couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eye as you tried to take in each new little detail. He and Jill were still chattering as the three of you got out of the car, but you bring yourself to contribute. You just couldn’t help stop yourself from looking around. You looked over the two-story home with exposed brick exterior and dark wooden door. You spotted someone peering out at you through the front window before hurrying away when you met their eyes. Marcus’ hand rested on your lower back as he murmured, “Are you alright?” In your ear. “You grew up here?” You asked, a little dazed. Moving around as much as you had, the places you’d stayed had never been any bigger than a two-bedroom apartment. You couldn’t imagine spending your whole childhood in a house— especially one as beautiful as this. “Yeah,” Marcus chuckled softly as he steered you up in the front walkway, “If you think this is nice, wait until you see the back porch.” “You have a porch?” “Oh, honey,” Jill laughed as she opened the front door, “We’ll have to get you down here more often.”

Marnie was a streak of dark hair and lanky limbs that launched herself at her brother with a squeal of excitement the second Marcus crossed the threshold. He dropped his hand from your back just in time to catch hold of her, clearly anticipating the charge. You smiled, taking a step to the side to give them adequate room as Marcus lightly rocked them side to side. “Do you have any siblings?” Jill asked softly as the two of you watched the reunion, the two chattering between one another. You shook your head a little bit, glancing over at Jill and smiling. “Do you?” “Five sisters. Imagine that bathroom when we were all late for school,” Jill laughed. You turned back as you heard Marcus say your name. “Oh, I know who she is,” Marnie waved Marcus off as she broke away from her brother, “Honestly, no name has puzzled me more since you told me that you were talking Shlomo Ziegler to prom.” “Was...Shlomo going with someone else?” You frowned. “There was no Shlomo Ziegler. He heard the name on an episode of the Golden Girls,” Jill explained. “Oh, honey,” You turned a sympathetic smile up at Marcus before taking a step closer to Marnie. Marnie had the same kind eyes that her brother did. Their noses were the same, too, but her cheekbones and lips were like her mother’s. She pulled you in the same way that Jill did, giving you a light squeeze before leaning back to get a better look. “It’s nice to meet you,” You smiled, “I’ve heard a lot about you-- About all of you.” And that was technically true. “I’ll grab your bag and run it up to Marnie’s old room,” Marcus reassured, resting his hand on your lower back. “Oooh,” Marnie cringed, glancing between the two of you, “I meant to mention, um-- I’m staying here this week.” Marcus froze, glancing between you and Marnie. “W-Why?” “Well, Hazel and I thought it would be kinda cute, you know, spending the week apart. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and stuff.” “So I’ll...Sleep... On the couch?” Marcus frowned. Jill waved him off. “Oh, you and your sweetheart can sleep in the same room. You’re all adults now, christssake,” She laughed, reaching up and pinching his cheek. You glanced back at him, raising a brow at his stunned expression. This was going to be an adjustment, but part of the reason you were down there with Marcus was to help him roll with the punches. He could only do that if you did. “Yeah, Marky,” You smiled, reassuring, “We’re all adults.” Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @blueeyesatnight ; @elen-aranel ; @yespolkadotkitty ; @artsymaddie ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @lunaserenade ; @winniedaboo ; @empress-palpat1ne ; @randomness501 ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @lou-la-lou ; @captain-jebi ; @supernaturalgirl ; @naturenebula21 ; @evelynseventyr ; @giselatropicana ; @heatherbel ; @marydjarin ; @annathewitch ; @absurdthirst

#The Long Con #marcus pike x reader #Marcus Pike x You #Marcus Pike/Reader #Marcus Pike/You #Marcus Pike Imagine #Marcus Pike Fic

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andromedasstarship · 4 years ago

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i could not choose between 77-80 so i overbearingly ask u to use each of them with spencer reid if u wish 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

80. “Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner.” + 77- “If you want to leave, we can leave.”

send a prompt + character from this list!

pairing - spencer reid x gn!reader

warnings - stress?? mostly fluff

a/n - tysm kenna for requesting this i love you and i loved writing this. i also went overboard on this one bye! ive also never posted something this long in an ask reply before so if this looks weird BYE!

Your car had long gone cold, but you still couldn’t find the energy to pull yourself out yet. It was futile to try and wrestle your emotions into a tightly sealed box; as soon as you crossed the threshold of the town-home you shared with Spencer, you knew he’d be able to read you like a book. Damn genius profiler skills.

Taking a quick look at the time you knew you had to suck it up and go inside; you were pushing how ‘late’ you could be without him worrying something had happened on your commute home. With a deep sigh, you grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and exited the car; taking your sweet time with locking the car behind you and digging your house keys out of the bottom of your bag.

To put it simply, it had been a difficult year. It was the final year of your Phd. program and while- all things considered- you had had an amazing time, the past few months had been both physically and mentally draining. What was once your lifelong passion had suddenly started to feel like a chore; a chore you felt you weren’t even good at anymore. Almost every day was spent either in your own classes or teaching undergrads. Almost every night was spent on the final edits of your thesis or grading work from your students. The few moments of freedom you found were spent doing the boring parts of adult life: housekeeping, getting your car fixed, calling elderly family members, etc.

Neither of you had formerly addressed it, but you knew it was taking a toll on your relationship. Spencer being busy was a constant, but it was normally balanced out by your typical 9-5 schedule. But recently, even on the nights he was home you’d be too wrapped up in your own work to even sit down and eat dinner with him. By the time you crawled into bed he’d be long asleep and in the mornings you’d been leaving for work earlier and earlier in order to get research time in at the university library. It felt like the two of you hadn’t even been awake in the same room for weeks, let alone do anything relationship-y.

Tonight was supposed to change that. Kind of. His team was having a fancy dinner to celebrate some major milestone that you couldn’t remember. It’d been on the books for months, but kept getting pushed back by surprise cases. It felt like everyone held their breath this week, waiting for a case to pop up, but instead everyone was left pleasantly surprised when no such thing happened. It was going to be a great night: classic Rossi pasta dish, all partners and kids invited. Even though the two of you wouldn’t be alone, it’d still be a perfectly good excuse to get out, put on some nice outfits and have a fun evening with friends.

Spencer had been particularly excited. The past week, you felt as if it was the only thing he ever talked about. Not that the two of you were having extensive conversations. He kept talking about how great it would be to get out of the house and how much he was looking forward to having a totally work free evening. His excitement warmed your heart.

Which is why you were taking so long to find your keys. Today had been one of the hardest day you’d experienced in a long time. The thesis meeting you had with your advisor- that you’d been staying up late every night editing for- had gone horribly; it was as if everything you prepared was wrong. Almost every student in the class you taught scored poorly on the latest assessment- on a unit you considered yourself an expert on-, something you viewed as a failure of your ability to convey the info. And to top it all off, even though you felt as if you’d spent hours upon hours working yourself to the bone the past week- in order to clear space for tonight-, you still felt as if you had piles of work to catch up on.

You knew the stress and tension of the day would read clear on your body as soon as Spencer got a look at you. And with how excited he’d been, you absolutely didn’t want to ruin the dinner. You’d hate for him to feel as if you were being selfish or that you couldn’t even prioritize him in your schedule.

You took one last deep breath, before going to put the key into the doorknob. Just as you touched the handle, the door swung open from the other side.

“Jesus!” You exclaimed, one hand clutching your chest as you nearly jumped out of your skin. In front of you was Spencer, smiling down at you with that irresistible grin of his.

“Did I scare you? Sorry. I thought I heard you car pull up earlier and when you didn’t come in I thought maybe something was wrong so I wanted to come check-”

You quickly cut him off- even though you did find his worrying a bit endearing- by pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“A good song came on just as I pulled in, couldn’t just get out.” You lied, adding a small laugh for effect. It was an on brand situation for you, something certainly believable. If Spencer had any doubts, he didn’t question you, simply moved out of the doorframe so you could step in.

Inside the house, you set your bag down by the front door like you always did. While kicking your shoes off, you pulled your jacket off, smiling when Spencer had his hands already open to hang it on the rack. You knew he had that ridiculous memory- and you had a pretty set routine-, but it still made your heart swell every time he anticipated your next move and went the extra mile to be helpful.

“So, how was your day?" Spencer asked, as the two of you made your way to the kitchen area. “What’d Professor Addams have to say in your meeting?”

You clenched at the handle of the fridge, grinding your teeth before pulling the door open. When you turned to look at Spencer, you saw he made himself comfortable on one of the countertop stools.

“Went well. They gave me some uh, um, some comprehensive revisions.” You said flatly, turning back to face the fridge; missing the skeptical look Spencer was throwing you.

“That’s good?” He said slowly, before adding, “well how was class? You just wrapped up the last unit didn’t you?” You both knew he knew the answer, but was just attempting to further the conversation. Had it been any other day you would’ve found it endearing, but today just wasn’t that day.

You slammed the fridge door shut, just hard enough to be cause for concern. “I thought tonight was absolutely no shop talk. Huh? Why don’t we just start that rule now.” You said, a slight edge to your voice. It’s not his fault, it’s not his fault.

“Are you okay-”

“Yes! I just don’t-”

“If there’s something wrong, you know you can tell-”

“There’s nothing wrong-”

“Do you need to stay-”

“Stop!” You exclaimed, bringing an end to the constant cutting each other off. “Everything is fine. Okay?” You said, unable to maintain eye contact.

Spencer slowly nodded, though you could tell he didn’t believe an ounce of what you had just said. Luckily for you, he seemed to let it go, falling back in his seat.

“I’m gonna go shower and get ready and then we can leave, alright?” You asked rhetorically. When he just nodded again, you very quickly walked up to him and pressed another quick kiss to his lips. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

---

The ride to Rossi’s was silent, something that normally wouldn’t have bothered either of you had it not been for the borderline argument you had in the kitchen. As you pulled up a few cars down from the house, you caught Spencer staring at you from the passenger seat, a slightly concerned look on his face.

“Stop doing that.” You huffed out, but there was no real bite in your voice.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked gently, reaching out to push a piece of your hair away from your face. God that was sweet.

You quickly nodded and threw a very forced smile his way, not quite meeting his eyes. “I’m fine. I promise, come on.” You said, killing the engine and pushing open your car door.

Before you could fully open the door, Spencer’s arm shot out across your body and pulled the door back shut with a bang.

“Spencer!” You yelped, startled by his sudden movement. You turned and gave him a bewildered look.

“You always look over my head when you lie.” Spencer stated.

“Oh I do not-” You started, but letting the sentence fall flat as soon as you realized you currently were looking over his head.

“Your favorite song came on the radio, twice, on the drive here and you didn’t react at all either times.” He said. When you still didn’t say anything he continued. “What’s going on? You know you can tell me.”

The look he was giving you was making you feel all sorts of guilty. Of course he cared, that’s why you loved him so much. You just didn’t want to ruin something that’d been in the works for so long, all because you had a bad day.

“Spencer,” you started, giving him a very pointed look and making sure to hold eye contact, “I’m fine. Can we just go in?”

Spencer shook his head, externally searching your face for more clues while also internally thinking back to any clues from your kitchen fight. “We aren’t going anywhere, until you talk to me.” He urged.

It probably wasn’t the best move on his part, seeing as you both were incredibly stubborn. The two of you were unrelenting, both staring blankly at the other; hoping the other one would break first. After nearly 5 minutes of silence, it became very clear that neither of you were standing down anytime soon.

Spencer reached his hand out again, gently cupping your cheek; internally you cursed your body’s natural reaction to lean into his touch. “What’s going on?” He asked, voice much softer than earlier.

You were internally screaming over how caring he was. Damn him! You cursed yourself for not being able to just play the role of perfect partner for one night.

“I’m exhausted.” You said, voice quiet. “My meeting went horrible day. I absolutely failed at teaching my students the last unit. I’ve been bringing so much work back to the house I haven’t even been able to give you a second of attention. And now we have this dinner that you’ve been looking forward to for months and I don’t want to ruin-”

This time, it was Spencer that quickly cut off your rambles with a kiss.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked, as if it were the most simple thing ever

You gave him a shocked look. “Spencer, you’ve been talking about this dinner for weeks. I, I can’t ask you to put this off, you and the team rarely get time to-”

“If you want to leave, we can leave.” He said. His voice was so sincere it made the whole thing that much more difficult. He was too good.

“Spencer, no.” You said, putting special emphasis on the ‘no’. “We haven’t even walked in the door, there’s nothing to leave yet. I’m not going to ruin the dinner we’ve all been planning on for months. I’ll be fine for a couple hours.”

He didn’t answer, instead pulled his phone out and quickly started to type out a text.

“What are you doing?”

“Texting Rossi, I’m gonna tell him you aren’t feeling well and we can’t come anymore.”

“We’re outside his house! It’s not a big deal-!

“Your comfort and happiness is more important to me than some stupid dinner!” Spencer cut you off, giving you a very pointed look. You weren’t sure your heart could take the swelling much longer.

“Spencer, you’ve been planning-”

“I don’t want to hear it-”

“You’ve wanted to get out of the house for so long!” You stressed, giving him a ‘duh’ look.

“We can go do something else!” He replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Just us, no pressure to be ‘on’ in front of anyone else.” That did sound good- No!

“I’m not gonna be the one who keeps their boyfriend away from his friends-”

“I see them every day. Every day. One dinner means nothing.” Spencer said confidently, clasping your hand tightly between his.

You contemplated for what seemed like hours; though it couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.” Spencer said, giving you a very mock serious look; you couldn’t help but laugh at that. “There you are.” He said, smiling to match yours.

You turned the car on, clicking your seatbelt back into place. “So, where to pretty boy?” You asked.

“Well, I heard of this new ice cream place that just opened up. Their ‘claim to fame’ is they make over 50 flavors in store every single day. Did you know on average it takes nearly three hours from start to finish to make a single batch of ice cream? Or that when ice cream-”

You shook your head in amusement, chancing a couple glances in his direction as you were driving. You loved his excited ramblings and animated hand motions as he further explained the history of ice cream; as well as all the random facts about the place he was directing you to. As you got closer to your new destination, all you could think about was how lucky you were to, to be loved by someone who always knew just what to say.

---

permanent tags - @sunflowersandotherthings

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #'stori writes #kenna #'stori answers #spencer reid/you #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid/gn!reader

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solarwonux · 4 years ago

Text

Sugar || Wonwoo

gamer!wonwoo x f!reader

w.c: 2.2k

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, fluff

note: this is one of my fav one shots I have written lol, its so cute and fluffy and honestly who does not love gamer!wonwoo!!!! Anyway, I hope you like this one it is one of my older ones but a good one (i think), let me know your thoughts <3

drabble game || masterlist

You could hear Wonwoo cursing in his office at his computer screen for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, driving you insane. Normally, you wouldn’t have minded, watching him react to the game he was playing was one of your favorite sources of entertainment. And It was no wonder people tuned in twice a week to watch him play while he streamed.

But tonight, you were due to finish your senior thesis and the words weren’t coming in. You had spent all day working around your apartment, turning over sentences in your head as you thought of ways to finish off your thesis. But when you had sat down in front of your coffee table to finally begin writing after finishing all the chores you had tasked yourself in doing. Your mind went blank. You had spent the following hours writing and rewriting growing even more frustrated when you realized that you had hit a wall.

Slamming your laptop shut, you rested your head on top of your coffee table, tracing over the lines in the wood with your index finger. Listening to Wonwoo’s laughter as he continued talking to his webcam, cursing whenever something didn’t go his way. You sighed wishing you weren’t contemplating barging into the office and pulling out the power chord to his gaming set up, as a means to silence him. Though you knew it would just lead to a fight and as annoyed as you were, that was the last thing you wanted.

Sighing, you got up from your spot on the floor and walked slowly to the office and gently knocked on the door. You wrapped your cardigan around your torso tightly while you waited for him to open it. You knew asking him to keep it down was useless, considering that it hadn't worked before, but you were out of options.

“Yes, baby.” Wonwoo smiled at you widely once he had finished opening the door. His headset around his neck, his round glasses slowly sliding off the bridge of his nose and his hair sticking up in places he had tugged on out of frustration.

“How long are you gonna stay on tonight?” You leaned up running a delicate hand through his hair attempting to fix it.

“Not sure…Seungcheol on too and we just started playing this new game that came out.” He finished pushing his glasses up his nose. “Why, what’s wrong?” He reached over smoothing over the creases that had formed between your brows.

“Umm…it’s nothing.” You shook your head. “But could you at least try to keep it down a little.” You pouted forming prayer hands in front of you. Wonwoo chuckled and pecked your lips softly. “I’ll try, have you finished your thesis yet?”

“Almost.” You smiled widely, hating yourself for lying to him, knowing that if you had told him the truth, he would’ve shut down the game and sat with you until you finished. And you couldn’t do that to him knowing how excited he got for his streams. Remembering how he kept tabs on comments that he’d find funny just so he’d be able to tell you about them later.

“Does that mean you’ll come sit with me when you finish.” He rubbed soothing circles on your chin as he looked down at you with that certain look you could never say no too. “Mhm.” You nodded and pecked his nose making him scrunch it up. “Now go before someone thinks you’ve gone missing.” You shoved him into the room lightly making him laugh.

“Impossible, they know I’m with my crazy, beautiful, sexy, cool girlfriend.” He winked at you as he sat down in his gaming chair, throwing you a kiss as he put on his headset again. You closed the door shaking your head, sighing in frustration as you leaned your forehead against it. Wishing you didn’t care and support Wonwoo’s hobby that had quickly turned into his second job as much as you did.

Knowing you weren’t going to get anywhere with your thesis, you decided to go take a shower. Hoping the hot water hitting your tense muscles will help clear the whirlwind going on in your head.

Feeling a lot lighter after your shower you wrapped a towel around your body. You walked out of your fogged-up bathroom and went to your dresser sitting down. Grabbing your body butter and lathering it around on your legs slowly kneading out the tension, then doing the same to the rest of your body. Once you finished you picked up your towel that had fallen onto the floor and before you could wrap it around yourself again, Wonwoo cursed loudly causing you to jump. You sighed and stormed out of your bedroom, opening up the door to the office and throwing your towel angrily at him.

“What the hell baby?” He exclaimed, jumping slightly from his chair angrily clicking on his computer mouse. “I’m in the middle of a game.” He groaned doing a double-take the second he realized you were standing naked with your hands on your waist in the doorway. You watched as he nervously scrambled taking off his headset and covering his webcam with his hands as quickly as possible, his going wide. “What are you doing, go put on some clothes.” He yelled, whispering.

“I asked you to keep it down…why are you being so loud today?” You said moving your arms around before bringing them to settle on to your hips again.

Wonwoo swallowed and looked down at his computer monitor, you could hear the gunshots from the game and Seungcheol calling out for Wonwoo telling him he needed back up. “Sorry, sorry, sorry…but you can’t just barge in here lookin’ like that.” He stared at you, his bottom lip slowly making its way in between his teeth as he looked over you slowly.

“Why not, they can’t see me.” You challenged stepping into the room. Wonwoo walked back tripping over his gaming chair as he tried to keep his hands on the webcam. “Well now they can’t, I’m covering it.” He retorted, his body at an awkward angle as you stood right in front of the monitor. “Maybe it’s a good thing they see, it’ll teach you to listen to me when I tell you things.” You said putting your hand over his hand feeling his hold on the webcam tighten. “Bet Seungcheol will listen to me if I was standing in front of him like this.” You whispered giving him a sultry look before running out of the room giggling.

You stood outside the hallway with your back against the wall as you listened to Wonwoo frantically try to cut his stream short. “Umm…s-sorry guys something came up, I’ll be back next week.”

“Wonwoo you pussy don’t leave me al—” You heard Seungcheol yell through the mic, getting cut off when Wonwoo shut everything down. You heard the sound of his headset gently hit his keyboard. You leaned over peaking your head in as you watched Wonwoo angrily run his fingers through his hair before looking over at you. “You little minx…get in here.” He demanded as he started walking towards you. You giggled and started running away into your bedroom, while he followed.

You threw yourself on your bed and waited for Wonwoo. “Hi Woo, what’s wrong?” You asked laying down the minute he walked into the room.

“Don’t you have a thesis to finish…what are you getting me so worked up for?” He said bringing his t-shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere in the room.

“I don’t think that was me, baby, that was your stupid games’ doing.” You sat up \on your elbows watching as he continued to undress.

“Do you know how dangerous that was…I could’ve been reported for nudity if you were caught.” He said as he finished taking off his boxers and climbed onto the bed.

“It’s a good thing you weren’t.” You giggled, Wonwoo rolled his eyes and turned you over so you were now laying on your stomach. You felt his palm come down onto your ass causing you to moan out. He leaned down and bit one of your cheeks, a small inaudible gasp leaving your mouth making him smirk against your skin. “If you wanted to play all you had to do was ask love.” He spoke against your skin and slowly kissed his way up your body, reaching over to move your drying hair away from your neck.

“You only ever want to play your games.” You moaned out as you felt him suck onto your neck harshly, feeling another slap land on your ass. “That’s not true…this will always be my favorite game.” He bit your earlobe sneaking a hand around your front resting his hand over your neck. “What do you say baby…want to play?” He tightened his hold around your neck making you gasp.

“mhm, yes please.” You moaned feeling his free hand teasingly run down his back, his knees parting your legs. “Always so respectful for me aren’t you.” He said sneaking his hand in between your legs. “And wet.” He moaned, coating his fingers with your arousal, teasing you slowly.

“Now tell me, love, was this what you wanted when you rudely interrupted me?” Wonwoo removed his hand from around your neck and tugged at your hips bringing you up to your knees.

“N-No.” You whimpered, feeling the head of his cock run through your folds. “I find that hard to believe. You’re all clean and moisturized and wet for me, baby.” He groaned and pressed his head onto your clit. “Just look at how hard you have me.” He finished pushing himself in slowly. You arched your back moaning, feeling yourself stretch around him.

For months your busy schedules had been getting in the way. He has his job at Woozi’s record company and his twitch streams two times a week. And you with your part-time job at the publishing company and going to night classes to finish up your masters, that by the time any of you would get home all you wanted to do was sleep.

“Woo, it’s been too long please move.” You choked out feeling his veins throbbing against your silky walls. “Anything for you my angel.” He grunted snapping his hips into you hard making you scream out his name. Feeling your arms start to give out as the pleasure continued to course through your body, you leaned down on your forearms.

His hips hitting your backside hard yet slowly as he sensually rode out the pleasure the two of you were currently feeling. His cock throbbing the more the two of you started reaching for your high. “I-I’ve missed you.” He moaned breathlessly leaning his body over yours digging his fingers into your hips roughly. He buried his head into the crook of your neck as he continued to ram himself into you. You turned your head to the side and kissed him messily biting his lower lip roughly. “I missed you too.” You gasped feeling him hit the sweet spot you knew he loved to play with.

Both of your moans mix with the sound of your skin against his, bounced of your bedroom walls. The headboard of the bed slamming into the wall creating small dents that you were sure you would worry about in the morning. Along with the noise complaint letters you would get during the week from all the angry tenants living in your apartment building. But you could care less, the only thing that mattered was the delicious spread going on in between your legs.

“Touch yourself b-baby,” Wonwoo demanded, feeling the loss of his skin against your back as he lifted up his body. You snaked your hand between your legs and rubbed your clit roughly, as Wonwoo sped up his movements. He set a foot on your bed reaching a new angle in you making you arch your back in pleasure as he helped you chase your high. The coil of pleasure spirals until you burst around him screaming out his name in pleasure. You panted bottoming out looking up over your shoulder whimpering as Wonwoo pulled out of you, releasing his load onto your back milking himself out.

He gave your ass a little tap signaling for you to lay down on your stomach again. He panted laying down next to you putting an arm underneath his head and the other on your upper back. “So much for finishing my thesis tonight.” You said trying to catch your breath.

Wonwoo laughed, shaking his head, drawing small patterns on your shoulders with his thumb. “That’s on you baby.” He leaned over kissing your nose. “Are you feeling better?”

You looked up at him raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean Woo, I’m not sick.”

He sighed, turning his body to face you. “No, but you were stressed out, I could tell the second I came home and when you told me to keep it down the first time.” He brought his hand up over and rubbed soothing circles around your flushed-out cheek. You nodded burying your face into his chest. “I’m feeling a lot better…thank you.”

“Good, now let me run you a bath and then we can sit down together and finish your thesis…does that sound okay?” He scrunched up his nose at a poor attempt to push his glasses up. You smiled helping him and kissed his lips softly.

“Sounds amazing love.”

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hangovercurse · 4 years ago

Text

Thesis

After a bad day, Colson comes over to take care of you, only to find out about a secret you’ve been keeping from him.

Request: “I was wondering if you could do a Kells fic where he's dating the reader and finds out she is c*tting, and helps her. Its total ok if you aren't comfortable writing this though 🖤”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: discussion and depictions of self-harm, cursing, angst

A/N: Gonna get really serious with this one: If you are struggling with self-harm (in all forms, not just those discussed in this text) or issues with your mental health, please reach out to someone! Family, friends, anyone. I know it’s hard and you may feel like no one cares, but I promise someone does. If you don’t feel comfortable telling someone you know, message me. My page is a safe space and I will never judge you. I promise you, the world is a much better place with you in it and you deserve to take up space, you deserve to be happy.

On that note, do not read this if you feel it may be triggering to you, please.

Word Count: 2457

You sighed as you read the email subject Re: Y/L/N Final Thesis Revised 2. Every time your doctoral advisor sent you an email in response to any work on your thesis, it wasn’t good.

Ms. Y/L/N,

I regret to inform you that the corrections that you have made are still not adequate enough for submission to the board. Please read my notes attached for further work to be done.

You didn’t even bother reading the rest of the email, instead choosing to slam your head down against your wooden desk. “Fuck!” You yelled to your empty house.

You had rewritten your doctoral thesis 4 times already and submitted for approval twice, both of which were rejected. Your advisor was trying to be patient with you, but you could tell his tolerance was running low. “What am I doing wrong?” You whispered to yourself, closing your eyes as you let your head rest against the wood.

Maybe you’re just not smart enough. That unhelpful voice in your mind chimed in, making you groan. Seriously though, if you were smarter, then you would have been approved already.

Your chest started tightening and you felt nauseous, tears coming to your eyes. You reached around for your phone, hearing Colson’s voice in your mind. “If you have a bad day, text me. You can always talk to me.”

Hey

You texted him, hoping he would respond soon. Your breathing was getting heavier and you just wanted to talk to someone that wasn’t the voice in your head.

Hey, I’m in the studio rn, everything ok?

My thesis got rejected

Again :(

I’m sorry babe

Wanna see you

Colson didn’t answer for a few moments, and you had a feeling he was letting out a frustrated sigh. You hated bothering him at work, it always made you feel like a nuisance to him.

I can’t leave right now

You’ll be okay

It’s just a paper

Now it was your turn to let out a sigh. Colson didn’t exactly understand why this was so important to you. Every time you got upset after it didn’t turn out well, he told you the same thing, “It’s just a paper, you can just rewrite it.”

But it’s not just a paper. It’s currently the only thing standing between you and a doctorate degree. And you’ve rewritten it four times before.

He’s just sick of you whining about it.

You annoy him

He doesn’t care about you

You got up from your desk and made your way to the bathroom, not sure if you were going to throw up or do something worse. The voice kept speaking, her incessant words running through your head.

You know what’ll make you feel better.

And you did. You had been trying to stop, and you were doing pretty good until a few weeks ago. Up until that point it was rare, a few times a month. Now it was 4 times a week; more days than not.

You reached under your bathroom counter, pulling out the small, inconspicuous makeup bag. You brought it over and set it on the edge of the bathtub, sitting on the floor next to it.

The zipper felt familiar under your fingers as you pulled it, the metal coming into view. Your secret stash of hellish paradise.

You pulled one of the razers out, feeling the coolness on your skin. Pulling up the sleeve of your sweater, you placed the sharp edge against the fragile skin on your wrist. You took a deep breath as you slid it across the skin, not even wincing at the pain. The blood rolling out of the wound was beautiful to you, a therapy in itself. You laid the arm over the bathtub, taking another slice at your wrist.

You had to be careful not to go too close to the hand or else the sweaters you wore could ride up and expose you, and you couldn’t make too many cuts or someone would be bound to notice.

Once you had made 4 slits in your skin, you stopped. The razor fell to the edge of the bathtub as you watched the blood drip down your arm, gravity pulling it towards your hand to pool in your palm. As fucked up as it was, you liked the view. The pain barely registered to you anymore.

It felt like all the fears were draining from your body with the blood. You knew it would all come back eventually, but in this moment, you felt peace. Your stomach stopped turning and your chest loosened. And for just a little while, the voices in your head were gone.

You laid there for probably 30 minutes, the peaceful silence engulfing you. Eventually you came back to your senses, realizing the mess you had made. You sighed, standing up and turning the faucet on. You watched the blood that sat in the tub wash away before running your arm under the water. It stung a bit, but the blood disappeared from your arm, leaving you with the visual of 4 dark red cuts.

Once the tub was clean, you moved to the cabinets under the sink again, this time grabbing a package of band-aids and covering the marks that were bleeding slightly after the water pressure opened them up again. You ran the blade under water from the sink to clean it before throwing it back in the bag and hiding it. Satisfied that all evidence of your sins was gone, you pulled down the sleeves of your sweater and made your way to your couch to watch a true crime documentary.

A little over a half hour later Colson texted you.

Picking up your favorite food :)

Be over in 10

You smiled at your phone for a second before guilt crept into your mind. How could you think that he doesn’t care about you? He’s never done anything but love you.

You are the world’s worst girlfriend.

You bit your lip, trying to make the thoughts go away. You didn’t want to be upset when Colson got there, it would spoil his whole night.

It didn’t quite work, but you were able to put on a fake smile when he got to your door. He set the bags of food on your coffee table before flopping on top of you on the couch. His face buried into your neck, pressing soft kisses onto the skin all over. He did this whenever he knew you were sad, it made you laugh.

He sat up, looking down on you, “how’s my girl doing?” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Better now that you’re here.” You mumbled, throwing your clothed arms around his middle and pulling him back against you. He chuckled and flipped you around so his back was against the couch and you were resting on his chest.

You smiled at him, you don’t deserve him, the voice screamed. You ignored it, burying your head into his shirt, the smell of him filling your nose. “What’re we watching?”

Your voice was muffled by the fabric, “The Vanishing of Elisa Lam.”

He looked up, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “of course we are.”

“We can watch something else.” You mumbled. Colson chuckled and sat up, pulling you with him to rest in his lap, your back against his chest.

His long arm reached to grab the food off the table, setting one box in your hands. “Your weird true crime show is fine, babe. You choose tonight.” He kissed your cheek, making you smile and sink further into his chest.

A little while passed and you had both finished your food, placing the empty boxes on the table. Colson’s arms were around your waist and you moved to hold his hands. You had tried wrapped your palm over the back of his hand, but he flipped his hand so his palm encased yours. As the documentary played, he began to rub circles into your skin subconsciously, moving down your wrist slowly.

In his arms you momentarily forgot about your session in the bathroom from earlier, but when his thumb brushed against the bandage on your arm you were shocked back into reality. “What’s that?” He mumbled, chin resting on your shoulder and looking down to the shirt sleeve.

“Nothing, I cut myself doing dishes earlier.” You lied, it being second nature at this point.

Colson’s hand moved to the edge of your sleeve, moving to roll it up. “You’re so clumsy sometimes.”

You yanked your arm out of his hand as you felt the fabric moving up, “what are you doing?” You asked, holding your arm closer to yourself subconsciously.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “I was gonna kiss it better.” He mumbled.

“It’s fine, you don’t need to.” You sighed, turning your attention back to the TV. He didn’t like that answer and based off of your reaction, he could tell something was up.

He reached to hold your arm again, and you relaxed into his touch, thinking he would just hold your hand. Instead, he dragged your sleeve up your arm, exposing four band-aids on your wrist and older, exposed scars.

“Colson!” You yelled, standing up and wiggling out of his grasp.

He had a shocked expression on his face that slowly turned into a mixture of concern and hurt. He tried to form words but was struggling. Finally, he got out a whispered “why?”

You bit your tongue, arms wrapped around your body as you faced away from him. Your breathing got heavy and you could feel tears coming to your eyes. He’s definitely gonna leave you now.

When you didn’t respond he stood up slowly, walking towards you and wrapping his arms around you. His lips met the top of your head briefly before replacing them with his chin.

The feeling of his embrace was enough to send your walls crashing down, tears finally falling down your face. You shook in his arms, your knees buckling under you. He whispered as he held you up, “hey hey hey hey, I’m here, baby. I’m right here. You can talk to me.” He led you back to the couch, pulling you back into his lap. You turned towards him and buried your face into his chest. His arms wrapped around you tighter than they ever had before.

Your sniffles filled the room, followed by your quiet “I’m sorry.”

Colson shook his head, taking your face in his hand and moving it away from his skin so you were forced to look at him. “You don’t have to be sorry.” You nodded and he slowly wiped the tears from under your eyes. The soft motion made you calm down ever so slightly. After a few minutes of being held, your sobs stopped, tears not falling as hard. “Can we talk about this.”

You sniffled but nodded your head, your eyes not meeting his. “I’m not gonna be upset with you, or angry. I just need you to be honest with me, okay?” He asked, his blue eyes searching your face. You simply nodded again, turning your head all the way down so your nose was parallel to the floor. The top of your head pressed against Colson’s chest.

“How long?” His voice was a whisper, but it held an infinity of emotion.

You mumbled out a response, “a while.” You could feel how fast his heart was beating, “Before I met you. It’s just gotten a lot worse lately.”

He nodded, sucking his lips in. “Why didn’t you talk to me? You know you can always talk to me, darling.”

New tears fell from your eyes. “I tried to.” You whispered, feeling guilty. His hand moved to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear.

He took a few moments to remember what you were talking about before he sighed. “Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you were so upset. I didn’t know.” He whispered, “But I know now, so from now on you gotta tell me if you feel like doing this to yourself.”

You nodded against him. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that. Don’t be sorry, why are you sorry?” He asked

You shrugged, “sorry you have to deal with me.”

He grabbed your face again, this time forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Don’t ever say that again. Okay? I fucking love you. You’re going through some shit right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop loving you. I don’t want you to ever think that.” As he spoke his harsh tone got softer, quieter.

“I just don’t feel like I’m good enough, for anything.” You slumped into him, your head laying on his shoulder.

His arms pulled you further into him, “Y/N, you are the smartest, most amazing, most beautiful person I’ve ever met. You’re literally about to become a doctor! That’s fucking incredible. I am so proud of you.”

“’m not really gonna be a doctor.” You mumbled, “I can’t get this fucking thesis approved.”

He sighed into your hair, “You are going to get through this. You have worked your ass off to get here, I know you’re not gonna let a stupid paper get in your way.” He pressed a kiss into your hair and you looked up to him, a pout still on your face. “Baby you aren’t just good enough, you’re better. I know it feels shitty right now but you’re gonna get through this. And I’m gonna be right here with you.”

He leaned down and pressed a deep kiss to your lips. It took a second, but you kissed him back. “Thank you.” You whispered when you pulled away, reaching up to wipe your tears away with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

“I love you.” He whispered, “do you think we could throw your blades away?” He asked softly.

“I might need your help.” You whispered. He nodded, lifting you off his lap and standing up. He grabbed your hand and you led him to your bathroom. You found the bag and handed it to him. “I can’t…” You whispered, trying to stop the tears you felt behind your eyes.

Colson nodded, taking it from you and opening it, frowning at the metal inside. “I don’t want to throw them away here, because you could get them out of the trash later. So, I’m gonna take them back to my house tomorrow and I’ll throw them out there.”

You nodded, hand squeezing his. You moved closer to him, resting your free hand on his shoulder, and pressing your cheek against his chest. “I love you.”

He smiled down at you, wrapping his arm around you, “I love you too.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #colson imagine

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the-modernmary · 4 years ago

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my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 1)

Summary: When Aaron Hotchner ended your affair with him, saying that a serial killer was going after him and his family, you were content with the idea that you’d probably never see him again. Two years have come and gone since then, but when you get dragged into an FBI investigation as a key witness, you and Hotch are forced to come face to face with all the things left unsaid.

Warnings: n/a

A/N: Thank you for all of the love on the prologue!! like WOW i couldn't have expected that big of a response so THANK YOU!!! As a reminder: I already have the first 17 chapters out on ao3, so I will be updating on here pretty quickly! This takes place two years after the prologue, and this is where the actual storyline starts!

masterlist || read on ao3

Anything you say can and will be held against you

So only say my name

It will be held against you

-Fall Out Boy, “Just One Yesterday”

Present Day- Two Years Later

You tugged at the handcuff that was attaching you to the interrogation table, hoping that if you glared at it enough, it would just go away. One minute, you were at your apartment and getting ready to go out with some of your friends, and the next minute Metro D.C. police were banging on your door, ordering you to go with them, no charges and no explanation.

So now you were just stuck, sitting and waiting for somebody to tell you what the hell this all was about. Law school had taught you enough about interrogation tactics, and they were pulling out all of the stops- turning down the room temperature, forcing you to sit in the most uncomfortable chair you’ve ever been in, and just making you be by yourself in the metal room. A small part of you was nervous, but mostly you were just confused. You couldn’t think of anything you’d done that would warrant your arrest.

Just as the isolation of the room was about to get to you, the door swung open and in walked two people. The first one was a petite blonde woman and following her was a younger looking man in a cardigan. You narrowed your eyes slightly at the site of them. You had expected the usual “good cop/bad cop” technique, but neither of these cops looked very intimidating.

“Hi there,” the woman spoke, sliding into the chair across from you. “My name is Agent Jareau and this is Dr. Reid. We’re here to ask you a few questions.”

Her name sounded familiar, but you couldn’t quite place where you knew it from. You raised an eyebrow and jutted your head towards Dr. Reid. “Is the handsome one not an agent?” you asked, leaning back in your chair.

Dr. Reid seemed unphased by your question, as if he was used to that question. “I am an agent. But I also have three doctorates,” he answered.

You just smirked at him before looking back at Agent Jareau. She had placed a file on the table, the seal of the FBI practically staring you in the face. Whatever they brought you in for was an FBI matter? Oh, you were definitely screwed. You tried to keep your cool. “So are you guys going to actually charge me with anything, or are you just going to hold me for 72 hours until you find something to stick?” you accused.

Agent Jareau shook her head, and you were still desperately trying to remember how you knew that name. “The faster you cooperate, the faster we can let you go.” It didn’t go unnoticed to you that she refused to answer your question. She leaned over the table slightly to slide the file towards you and you caught a glimpse of her ID. Everything came back to you at once.

Jennifer Jareau. FBI. Business cards. “You can set up a formal meeting with me at the BAU…” Holy shit, you did know that name.

You laughed softly to yourself and crossed your legs as the memories came flooding back. “Okay, I’ll cooperate,” you agreed, but you were looking directly at the two way mirror. “But only if I can speak to your unit chief. It still is Aaron Hotchner, correct?” Your voice was innocent enough to not be too suspicious, but you knew it would drive Aaron crazy. It was the same voice you would use when he had a fistfull of your hair and you were promising to be his good girl.

You could only imagine what was going on behind that two way mirror; Aaron’s team looking at him with complete and utter confusion, trying to figure out how you knew him, all while Aaron was probably clenching his teeth, red with anger. Maybe if you made him mad enough, he would bend you over the interrogation table once everybody else had left.

Jennifer and Dr. Reid shared a quick glance before looking back at you. Dr. Reid spoke first. “It would be best if we could go over our questions with you first.”

You bopped your head, pretending to think it over. “I get it, the two of you have a job to do and you have a strategy to stay in control, so I’ll give you guys a choice. You can let me speak to Agent Hotchner or I lawyer up and invoke the 5th.”

Like clockwork, the door swung open violently and Aaron stormed in. “I’ll take it from here,” he ordered, and the other two agents quickly shuffled out of the room.

He sat down in the seat across from you and you just raised the hand that was handcuffed to the table, wiggling your fingers. He was pissed, you could tell, and you loved every second of it. You leaned over the table, signalling for him to move closer to you. He hesitated, which earned him a roll of your eyes, but he eventually leaned over the table too.

“If you wanted me in handcuffs again for you, you didn’t have to go through all this effort. My phone number hasn’t changed,” you whispered, low enough so that the group watching on the other side of the mirror couldn’t hear. He refused to answer and instead just pulled back to his normal seated position. Ever the good agent, Aaron’s face went back to it’s normal, stoic look, and it made you pout. You wanted to get more of a rise out of him.

“Miss. Y/L/N,” he said cooly. “Why don’t we get started?” You realized with a sinking feeling that he was already starting to lose interest in you flirting, his attention focused back on the task at hand, attention that you selfishly wanted all to yourself.

You slipped off the heels you were wearing and stretched your leg out so that your foot could brush against his leg. If you couldn’t touch him with your hands right now, you were going to make sure he could feel you in some way. His eyes shot up to yours, giving you a warning look, as if to say “Stop right now or I’m going to make you.”

You knew that look too well, craved for it even. You just responded with a smirk and dropped your foot, relishing in the fact that he actually looked slightly disappointed that you stopped.

“How are Haley and Jack doing, Aaron?” you asked lazily, leaning back in your chair. “Visiting them more often?”

Aaron cleared his throat and ran his hand down his tie to flatten it, as if it had come out of place. He was always so put together at work. “Jack is fine. Haley passed away a while ago,” he said quickly, and guilt immediately engulfed you.

You lowered your gaze so that you were staring at the interrogation table. “Oh,” you mumbled. “I’m sorry.” And you really were sorry. Sure, your relationship, or lack of relationship, with Haley was weird. You were sleeping with her ex before the divorce papers had time to be fully submitted, and even though Aaron was well in his right to be with whoever he wanted, the two of you still found yourselves sneaking around with each other. But you never had anything against her personally- she seemed like a great mother and obviously made Aaron happy for however long they were married.

Besides, you could take a guess as to what happened to Haley. Your fling with Aaron lasted for a fun few months, neither of you ever expecting anything other than sex whenever you met up, so when you and Aaron had decided to stop seeing each other, it was completely amicable. He had explained that the BAU was closing in on a serial killer who was going after him and his family, and you did not want to be involved in that mess. The fact that Haley died right as a serial killer was chasing her… that definitely wasn’t just a coincidence.

The tension was thick in the room as the two of you desperately searched for how to continue the conversation. What were you supposed to say after finding out your fuck buddy’s ex wife was murdered?

You started talking before your brain could even process what you were saying. “Well, like told you, if you ever need somebody to help you pick up those broken pieces...”

He ignored you, electing to direct the conversation in his own direction. “You know, I read the paper you were working on,” he said casually, and that sure caught you by surprise.

“You did?” you asked.

“You piqued my interest,” he admitted. “Your professor and I worked on a few cases together, so he gave me a copy. It was good. You are much more professional on paper.”

“I could say the same about you,” you countered, and he gave you a hint of a genuine smile.

“Although I did notice that you didn’t mention The People vs. Michaelson anywhere in it.” There was something in his voice that put you on edge. You could feel yourself walking into his trap, but you couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to know more.

You shrugged. “Well, I got some shit information about the case.”

For a split second, you thought you saw a flash of the old Aaron, but just as quickly as it came, it disappeared, and he was business as usual. “What intrigued me even more, however,” he continued, completely ignoring your previous comment. “Was that you didn’t mention recidivism at all, which is what that case is all about. Your thesis was on jury selection. Why ask me about the case if you weren’t going to use the information for school?”

You glared at him and clenched your hands into fists, your nails digging into your palms. What a dick. He knew why you were interested in the case- it mirrored your father’s situation almost perfectly. You were 12 the first time your father was arrested. When your mom realized that your dad was involved with some shady people, she immediately turned him into the cops to protect you. The prosecutor barely even tried during the case and your dad was in and out of prison within two years. The day he was released, he came right back to your home and killed your mom out of revenge. He’s now rotting in a max security prison for life, but you were still angry that he even had the opportunity to come after your mom. It’s why you wanted to become a prosecutor in the first place, so that you could ensure these criminals were actually brought to justice.

Aaron knew all that. You realized as he began to inch the case file closer to you that he was just trying to knock you off balance. The actual interrogation hadn’t even started yet. “And you say that I’m the one who gets under people’s skin,” you snapped at him.

Aaron humed to himself, arrogance oozing off of him. If you weren’t so angry at him, you would have thought it was hot. “You’re currently interning at DuPont and Associates?” You nodded, annoyed at him brushing off your last comment. “What do you know about the recent string of murders in the area?” Aaron asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed at his question. “Um… Just what they’re saying on the news? Somebody has been killing a bunch of people whose cases were dismissed because of technicalities- their Miranda rights were read incorrectly and that kind of stuff. I haven’t really been keeping up,” you admitted, still unsure of why you were there.

Aaron flipped open the case files, and instead of gruesome crime scene photos, you just saw legal briefs. More shocking, however, was that they were all legal briefs you had helped write. “Each of these victims had their initial cases through duPont and Associates, and we found that you were the only person who assisted on every case. What did you think about those dismissals? Some of these people really should have been locked up, wouldn’t you agree?”

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried desperately to find the words to say. Unconsciously, you started to tug at the handcuff again, as if they would suddenly just release you if you fought it enough. “Maybe, but that’s not really my decision,” you said disdainfully. Then the fear and realization slowly creeped into you. “Wait you don’t… you guys don’t think I did this, do you?” Your voice was rough and panicky.

Aaron placed his hands on the cold metal of the interrogation table, his fingers interlocked. His FBI Unit Chief exterior melted away ever so slightly. “No, I don’t,” he said softly, and his use of “I” instead of “We” did not go unnoticed by you. You weren’t sure if you were comforted by that or not. “But you are our best lead right now, and I think you know more than you realize. We have reason to believe that the unsub works for the law firm you’re interning at and is playing out a vigilante fantasy and considering you are the only one who actually worked on every single case, we need to use you and your position at the firm to get more intel.”

We need to use you. He realized his slip before he even finished his sentence. It was innocuous enough that his team probably didn’t even notice it; He was just letting a potential witness know that they were going to be an important part of the investigation. But you knew Aaron better than that, and you could see the wheels turning in his brain as he tried to figure out how to go back on what he just said.

You gave him a smirk and brought your elbows up on the table, steepling your fingers. Of course you were going to help them, whatever they needed. You’d do that even if Aaron wasn’t involved. But after being forcibly brought to the interrogation room, you figured you could make him sweat a little. “Oh Aaron, I’m flattered that you think I could be an asset to the BAU’s investigation. But if you want something from me, you’re going to have to ask for it.”

You got him right where you wanted him. You knew he wasn’t going to be happy with the roll reversal, using his own words against him. But you missed the playful banter between you and Aaron, and nobody knew how to get you off the way he did. Aaron had quite literally ruined sex for you, much to your disappointment. The other people you had slept with since meeting Aaron all lacked the confidence and intelligence that Aaron brought to every meeting, and they could never walk that fine line of fucking you like they adored you and hated you at the same time.

The way that Aaron would demand you to ask and use your words was more than just a way for him to remain in control, although you knew that was definitely part of it. And it was more than just checking for consent- that always came earlier and you had your safeword. No, it was more than all of that. He wanted to hear you beg for the things you wanted, as if he wanted to be validated; He always wanted to know that you still wanted him, which you did. So you just kept asking him for things, and he happily kept giving them to you.

Aaron looked downright murderous, his eyebrows scrunched together and his breathing getting heavier. He stood up and slammed the case file shut. “I’m not going to ask for anything, because where I’m standing, I have the control here. In case you forgot, you’re in handcuffs and I can walk out of here whenever I want.” But even as he said it, he stayed exactly where he was, his hands on the table and leaning down so that he was closer to you.

In return, you just arched your eyebrow at him, waiting for his question. He had to ask you for the sake of his job and the case and you both knew it, and you got a strange satisfaction from watching him have to ask you for something for once. He stared at you for a few moments, jaw clenching, until he realized the entire BAU team was behind the two way mirror watching this situation go down. “Will you please help us with the case?” he asked through gritted teeth.

You gave him a smug smile, which only served to irritate him further. “I would love to,” you told him, your voice too sweet and too innocent. “Now can you please take my handcuffs off?”

Aaron walked towards you wordlessly, taking the keys out of his pockets. “You’ll still have to wait here for a few minutes so that you can sign some papers,” he told you, keeping his voice even, but it all changed as he kneeled next to you, slowly unlocking the handcuffs. His fingers lingered on your skin for far too long to be considered appropriate. “Don’t get too comfortable,” he whispered in your ear, voice low enough so that nobody could hear what he was saying. “You’re going to be in handcuffs for the rest of night while I punish you for that little show you decided to give everybody. Did you already forget how to not be a brat? Do I have to teach you again?”

His words made your arousal shoot straight to your core. You were released with a soft click! and you rubbed your irritated wrist lightly. “Yes,” you practically moaned, and you were sure that your face was flushed. And just like that, it was as if only a few days had passed since you and Aaron had last seen each other, instead of two years. The two of you fell back into an easy rhythm. “I still live in the same apartment. Five minutes from here.”

With that, Aaron stormed out of the interrogation room, already barking orders at the cops. “Get her processed and out of here quickly, I don’t want to spend anymore time on this,” he demanded, making a beeline to grab his stuff. Unfortunately for him, Rossi was standing right in front of Aaron’s bag, a knowing smirk on his face. Aaron stopped mid step and groaned in annoyance. “Dave, don’t.”

Rossi just ignored him. “Old friend?” he asked, stepping aside just enough to let Aaron grab his bag.

Aaron looked around quickly and was relieved to see that there were no other BAU members near them. “You could say that,” Aaron mumbled and started to walk to the doors.

To his dismay, Rossi just followed him. “She’s pretty,” Rossi hummed, and Aaron hated how easily Rossi was able to keep this conversation so casual. “Not your usual type, though.” It didn’t take a profiler to get the underlying comment: She’s young.

Aaron took an audible breath, keeping his eyes on the exit sign that seemed to be getting further and further away. “Yeah, well…” His voice trailed off, unable to find a good response.

“When did you meet her?”

Aaron paused, deciding how honest he was going to be. He figured that if anybody was going to find out, it would be Rossi, and if he was honest with Rossi now, they would be able to keep it a secret from the rest of the team. He cleared his throat. “An alumni event at George Washington. Before Foyet but after the divorce.” Another pause. “Right after the divorce,” he clarified.

Rossi just nodded understandably, a soft “Ah” coming from his lips. He would push the full story out of Aaron later, but it was obvious that Aaron was just desperate to get out of the police station. “Okay, well... I will let the team know about your emergency meeting with Strauss that she just called, which is why you’re leaving so quickly. And if they ask, from what you’re telling me, Y/N is just one of Sean’s old friends from before he dropped out of law school. I’m pretty sure you never got along with his friends, am I correct?” Sometimes, Rossi was too good at thinking on his feet.

Aaron turned to face Rossi, his mouth open and ready to argue, but he knew there was no point. With Rossi’s lie, it would keep the team from asking too many questions, at least until Aaron got his need for you out of his system. Just one night, he promised himself. That’s all I’ll need. So instead of arguing, Hotch just nodded at Rossi, a hint of a smile on his face. It made it all worth it, in Rossi’s eyes. Aaron hadn’t been this excited about a girl since Haley’s death. He deserved a night of fun. “Thank you,” Aaron breathed before swiftly stepping out of the police station.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotcner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #my best habit #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #my writing

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awkwardgtace · 3 years ago

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Secret Brother Pt2

Continuing Ian and Mikhail gonna keep the same tws unless someone's asked for changes

TW: mentions of abandonment. Later parts will have mentions of a borrower being treated like a pet this is entirely painted in how fuckin wrong it is and how it added to the trauma.

Part 1 Part 3 (Final)

Secret Brother Part 2

Mikhail started living a double life after that. He was making good progress with Ian. He wasn’t sure how Ian had made any kind of home before, he seemed to struggle with basic bits of borrowing. It was becoming the highlight of most days to go home and sneak in to his own house the size of a borrower. Ian seemed almost nervous to be left in a house with a human alone, it didn’t make a ton of sense. The thing that started his move before must have been pretty bad.

The last few months had been a bit stressful too. At least one of his students seemed aware that the dorm ‘ghost’ had left with him. She claimed it was discussing her thesis, but it seemed to be highly focused on borrowers. Although she kept calling it a hypothetical idea of small beings. A study on the folklore of creatures like that which pop up in a lot of cultures. Finding ways to push her to new topics was becoming hard. Mikhail was looking forward to his afternoon with Ian.

“Ian, you around bud?” he called out. Ian rushed at him, covering his mouth. Mikhail looked at him curiously. Ian slowly slid his hand off him, seemingly happy with the silence. “What was that about?”

“I, uh, I thought I heard the human before,” he said nervously. Mikhail had been quiet, he hadn’t even opened his door. “I figured we should be extra quiet today, or just stay here, I have enough supplies for at least a week.”

Mikhail studied him, this wasn’t normal. Even if he made noise on his way, he can’t hear the noise in the walls as a human. Well he couldn’t hear them this far in, he made Ian move to make sure of that. Ian was jumpy, looking around like something would show up out of nowhere. He’d go with it for now, they’d hang out in the walls. He could teach him better sewing and they could work out the paths a little more.

“All right bud,” he said, hoping the smile would calm him. “We can stay in the walls just get some chores done in here, set up some extra paths you may need.”

Ian visibly calmed hearing that. He grabbed Mikhail’s arm and dragged him to the makeshift table. He had plenty of projects he started and needed guidance on. Mikhail was happy to oblige. They worked in a casual silence, Ian showing the parts he struggled with and Mikhail guiding him. It was a pretty normal day as far as life for a borrower is concerned, but Mikhail couldn’t ignore how terrified Ian was. It couldn’t just be that he thought he heard Mikhail, or well the human sized Mikhail, in the house. He was trying to think of how to bring it up when Ian dropped his project.

“Mik,” he started. “You’ve been coming to this house for a long time right?”

“Yeah it’s a normal stop,” he answered. He didn’t think he wanted to know where this was going.

“What do you think of this human?” Ian looked at him, his eyes had something in them he couldn’t read.

“I’m not sure what you mean bud,” he knew the right responses, but didn’t want to give them. He didn’t want to encourage Ian to be afraid of him.

“L-let’s say, there was a human you knew was bad, like really bad. If you had to pick between them and the human here, which would you pick?”

“I mean, as far as I can tell with this human, they wouldn’t do anything bad,” he started slowly. “I don’t know how bad the bad human would be in this scenario, but I’d pick the human who lives here. I’ve known them for an extremely long time, they don’t seem the type to do anything cruel.”

Ian nodded solemnly. Something was going on and he wasn’t telling him. Mikhail was tempted to push, but there wasn’t a good way to ask. He didn’t like leaving like this, but he had some work to get done this weekend, he couldn’t stay. He ruffled Ian’s hair standing to stretch, then started gathering the few things of his he brought with him. Ian grabbed his shoulder tightly.

“Mik, can you stay? For a few days?” his voice was small. Mikhail wanted to stay, to help him with what he wasn’t saying, but he couldn’t. He had to grade assignments and review thesis topics. He turned with a sad smile to Ian.

“I’m sorry Ian, I can’t. Honestly I may be gone for about a week this time. I can’t put off this work much longer. It won’t f-”

“Can I come?”

Mikhail sighed, “Ian I can’t take you with me for these trips. It won’t feel that long promise.”

Ian let go of him. Mikhail turned and saw he looked close to tears. He pulled Ian into a hug, holding tightly. Ian melted into it, seeming to need some sort of reassurance. Mikhail was more reluctant to leave, but he had to work so they could keep this up anyway. He let go and moved towards the exit, relieved to see Ian sitting back down at the table. He’d tell Ian the truth next time, he had to know he wasn’t as alone as he thought when ‘Mik’ wasn’t around.

“We’ll talk about some important stuff when I come back too all right?” he asked. Ian perked up, nodding with a look of relief. Things like that seemed to calm him, promises that meant he’d return without that being the promise. Once outside the house Mikhail waited a few minutes before shifting back. He needed to make sure Ian wasn’t planning to follow him. Once sure he focused and the world returned to its usual view. He took slow steps toward his car, climbing in to move it. Next time he saw Ian wasn’t going to be easy. He pulled the car off to the side, hidden completely from view for the weekend.

He sighed as he walked in, far from excited to deal with the guilt he’d be feeling. He went straight to his desk, if he could make it through the papers fast enough he could talk with Ian sooner. He pulled out the first and got to reading, blocking out the world around him. Ian wouldn’t come out for a while based on how he was acting. Hours passed as he worked through the assignments, a number of which would need to be completely redone. The black ink on white paper getting to him, he walked out to get a drink. The house was dark, he never bothered to turn on any lights when he came in. He reached the kitchen and flicked the light on, nearly screaming.

Sitting at the center of the table was Ian, his hook placed clearly out of reach. Mikhail couldn’t believe his eyes. He decided to act like he saw nothing, continuing on to get his water. He would go back to his desk and then Ian could keep up whatever crazy thing he was planning. Unless this had to do with the question earlier about trusting the human here. Did he know it was Mikhail who lived here? Ian must have figured it out. He turned to leave, trying so hard not to let his concern show.

“H-human!” Ian called out. There went any hope of pretending not to see him. Mikhail locked his eyes on Ian, the boy flinching as he gained the attention he wanted. Mikhail crouched down, getting himself eye level with the borrower. He was barely ready for whatever this meant.

“Hi?” he said. He had no idea how to do this. Wait he called out human, does Ian not know?

“I-I want to make a deal with you.” Ian was trying to be confident. Mikhail felt a lot of pride at that. He was so much more confident than he was a few months ago.

“What do you need?”

“I-if you’ll keep the bad human from me and my friend I’ll stay with you.”

“Wait what? What bad human? What do you mean stay with me?” Mikhail was utterly lost. Ian was here in front of him when he was human. Offering to stay with him in exchange for protection from the bad human. Now he really needed to know what was going on. He leaned down on the table, arms as a pillow, to be a little closer.

“I-I ran away from a human. They were keeping me as a,” he paused a mixture of fear and disgust on his face, “as a pet. I’ll stay with you as one if you’ll keep the bad one from me and my friend.”

“First no to that whole pet thing, you’re clearly a person. Second, I need to know about this bad human to help.”

“I-I can be good. I won’t run from you. I’ll be the project thingy for you they were talking about. I can-”

“Whoa slow down buddy, I just need information.” Mikhail was trying hard to stay calm. This is what scared him so much. Some human kept him as a pet and brought him to the school. Mikhail was going to deal with this, later though for now Ian had to calm down.

“I can do tricks, I won’t complain really. You can go get a cage now and I’ll wait right here. I won’t move at all. I won’t fight if you try to show me off either. I’ll be a good pet just as long as you protect us.”

“Kiddo, I just said the pet thing isn’t happening. I’ll just help you if you talk to me about this bad human.”

“I’m not stupid. I know you’ll want something eventually. I’m giving you something. I know you spend time at the place the bad human had brought me. I’ll be obedient for anything you need just keep the bad one away. I put the only way I can get down far enough away. Just admit you like this idea and-”

“Ian, knock it off! I’m not entertaining you talking about yourself like that’s all you’re good for. You’re a person, damn it!” Mikhail shouted. He hadn’t meant to, but hearing Ian thought he’d like this idea hurt. Over the last few months Ian felt like a younger brother, he’d do anything for him.

“H-How do you know my name?” Ian’s eyes were wide. Mikhail didn’t realize he used his name, he’d gotten lucky until now. Ian seemed far more scared than before hearing the human knew his name, starting to back away. Mikhail stood up and backed off. This wasn’t what he wanted to happen. He was going to have to show him as much as he hated it. He made his way back over to the table gripping the edge with both hands. He focused on them as he willed himself smaller. He pulled himself onto the table then sped up how fast he shifted. Focusing his gaze on Ian once he was done.

“This,” Mikhail gestured to himself, “would be why you couldn’t come with me.”

#gt writing #gt #giant/tiny #gianttiny #g/t #g/t writing #OC:Ian #OC:Mikhail/Mik #OC:Mik/Mikhail

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

Text

give it a try

w/c: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of smut, angst, and swearing

a/n: i meant to say this a while ago but thank you all so much for 1k oh my GODDD i love you guys and it makes me so happy y’all love me back <3 and i know i’ve just been doing blurb requests lately but i’m gonna try to write more fics too! keep sending them in though it’s fun talking to everyone!!!! also i got this idea here so thanks to whoever sent it

“fuck,” peter breathes out, rolling over so he’s next to you on your bed. you’re a panting mess after what you just did together. you let out a laugh and turn to face him. “shit, that was good.” your fingers comb through his matted curls. he takes your hand in his, bringing it to his chest. “really good. i’m ready to go again,” he chuckles. you playfully swat at his chest with your intertwined fingers. “of course you are.”

you’ve been doing this with peter for a few months now. he’ll send you a text or just drop by your apartment, and you take it from there. the transition from friends to friends with benefits happened over some beer one night.

you’d known you felt something more for him ever since you got close in your freshman year of college. alcohol gave you the courage to act on it. peter ended up feeling the same. sexually, at least. you’re pretty sure the romantic part is one sided. you still make an effort either way.

propping yourself up on your elbow, you look him over. “wanna go get food? it’s early.” “nah, i can’t. i’m supposed finish a paper for tomorrow.” peter presses his lips together. he never stays too long after you hook up. you don’t know what it is. maybe it’s to keep this separate from your friendship. you wish he’d let things overlap for once. messy is exciting.

“oh, that’s okay.” you try not to sound too disappointed. peter gives you an apologetic smile and gets off the bed. he steps back into his boxers, picking his shirt up off the floor next. you’re only watching. you already feel so empty, and he hasn’t even left. that’s the only part of being friends with benefits that you don’t like. you only get half of what you want.

peter is fully dressed now. he comes back over to you so he can say goodbye. sitting up, you raise your eyebrows at him. “are you sure you don’t wanna stay a little longer?” this is another attempt to break the cycle again. his mouth drops open, but he doesn’t say anything. he stares at you for a few seconds. he can see the hope in your eyes. you can see it in his, too. he’s finally changing his mind.

then, he shakes his head.

“i really have to go, y/n. i’ll text you later.” peter lowers his voice, breaking eye contact. a weight comes crushing down on your chest. you thought it finally worked. nodding, you stay silent as he walks to your bedroom door. he turns back with his hand on the knob. he’s waiting for you to say something.

“goodnight. good luck with your paper,” you croak out. “thanks. find something to eat.” it’s like he was never here the second he’s out your door.

your appetite is gone, but you know you need dinner. you throw together a boring salad with whatever is in your fridge. all you can think about while you chew the bitter lettuce is being cuddled up next to peter. you’d eventually fall asleep in his arms, and he’d be there when you wake up. is that so much to ask for?

peter can’t focus. he’s been trying to write his thesis for way too long. every time he starts typing, his mind goes to you. you under him, you holding his hand, you fighting back tears when he left. he hates doing this to you. if he could help it, he would have stayed all those nights and this one. he wishes it were that simple.

he’s worried he’ll lose you somehow. your friendship is what keeps him grounded, and he doesn’t want to imagine not having it in his life. too many people have came and gone. peter can’t ruin what he has with you. that’s why he never made a move, until you initiated it.

he knows you love him as more than a friend. he loves you the same, but he’s not taking things farther than they are right now. there’s always the possibility you’ll break up. he could also put you in danger. anything that takes you away from him isn’t happening. it’s easier to keep doing this, even though it hurts both of you.

the next time peter comes over, it’s been a while since you’ve seen him. you were never free at the same time. whether he planned that or not is beyond you. he makes it up to you either way, taking things slower than usual and giving you head first. he also lays with you when you’re done. something might have clicked after your last hookup.

peter has an arm wrapped loosely around you. your head is resting on his bare chest, smiling lazily. “so, did you wanna spend the night?” you figured you’d give it a shot by asking. things seem different for once. sighing, peter looks away from you. “i have to be up early, and none of my stuff is here. sorry.”

it’s like he has an infinite amount of excuses.

“you could borrow a toothbrush,” you scoff. his arm slips from around your side. “y/n, it’s not gonna work.” his voice is too calm for your liking. you sit up. “will it ever? i keep giving you signs, and you always reject me-“ “i’m not rejecting you.” there’s no way he said that. laughing in disbelief, you throw your hands up.

“then what are you doing, peter?” he gulps. “because i can’t keep letting you make me feel this way.” suddenly, peter is on his feet. he’s gathering his clothes while you sit there. that wasn’t what you were expecting.

“i told you not to get attached,” he almost yells, balling his clothes into a pile. you blink a few times. “i already was.” there’s a silence between you two. not sure what to do, peter quickly heads out of your room without another word. you’re so confused. you have no idea where this leaves the two of you or where he’s going.

as complicated as this is, you aren’t trying to fix it this time. peter made it clear he doesn’t want you to.

you wake up later that night to someone knocking at your window. the only person who could get up this high is peter. rubbing your eyes, you pull the covers off yourself. this is new. you turn on a light before sliding up your window for him. peter comes through just like he left, silently. he has a nervous look on his face.

“can i sit?” he asks quietly, you gesturing to your bed in response. you take a seat next to him. “what are you doing here so late?” “i...” his hands fidget in his lap. “i wanted to apologize.” you nod once to let him know he can go on. “i’ve been a really bad friend lately, and you’re right.” “about what?” he’s still playing with his fingers to distract himself. you put one of your hands on top of his. his teary eyes meet yours.

“i thought pushing you away was the only way to keep this going.” he takes in a shaky breath. “but... i love you, y/n.” tears are falling down his cheeks, your heart beating faster at his confession. his voice breaks. “i’m so sorry i didn’t say it sooner. i fucked everything up.”

“peter, peter. no you didn’t.” you put an arm around him, your free hand coming up to hold the back of his head. he hides his face in your shoulder. he’s crying on you.

you’re stroking his hair while he lets it all out, his arms wrapped around your lower back. you hug him against you. “i love you, okay? we’re gonna be fine.” “could we...” peter cuts himself off with a sniffle. “could we give it a try? being a couple?” you tilt your head to look at him.

“of course. you know i want to.” he uses a hand to wipe at his eyes, taking his head off your shoulder. you move yours down to his neck. he’s starting to catch his breath.

“i’ll, um, spend the night. if that’s okay.” “let’s get in bed,” you tell him softly, guiding him back to the pillows. he goes under the covers while you reach over and shut the light. you’re under them next, the bed warmer than usual now thay peter is in it. it’s nice. “wanna cuddle?” you almost whisper.

peter holds an arm out for you. curling into his side, you wrap both of yours around his torso. this is exactly what you’ve been needing. both of you.

it took some time to get here, but you’re finally giving it a try.

#peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine

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recurring-polynya · 3 years ago

Note

For the Renji birthday prompt: A fic where Renji discovers that he can't go tits out anymore now that he's married (maybe with some jealous Rukia thrown in perhaps)?

I maintain that the new tits-in regime is self-imposed; I present to you my thesis. (I did not attempt to take on The Vest; I assume it came later, and I eagerly await more Vest Lore from Kubo himself)

Warning that I sincerely hope deters absolutely no one: This fic is about boobs. It contains many, many synonyms for boobs. Some of them are rude.

Read on ao3 or ff.net

---

“I’m telling you, you’re jumping to conclusions. Sometimes he puts them away when he fights. He told me this.”

“I haven’t seen them in weeks.”

“It’s been winter.”

“That has never stopped him before. And it’s April now. Open season. And yet…?”

“I think we should just ask him.”

“You can’t just ask a guy, ‘hey, where did your tits go?’”

“I could, but I refuse. Abarai’s aesthetic is his own business.”

“Since when?”

“Okay, he’s here, someone’s gotta do it.”

“Not it!”

“Also not it!”

“Matsumoto, you have to do it. You’re the one who talked him into letting them hang out in the first place.”

“I agree with Yumichika. Renji knows what he’s doing, and if he has decided that the puppies are off-limits, that’s on him.”

“Hey, guys!” Abarai Renji’s cheerful voice rang out over the din of the bar. “Sorry I’m late!”

“Just means you have to catch up quick!” Rangiku declared, pouring him some sake.

“No missus tonight?” Shuuhei asked.

Renji’s entire face went pink and he got the same moony look in his eyes he always got whenever someone mentioned his wife or his marital state generally. “She sends her regards and says I’m supposed to drink extra for her. She goes over to the Manor on Wednesday evenings now to hang out with her brother.”

“Have you actually managed to call him by his given name yet?” Iba asked. “Now that you’re related?”

“His given name is ‘Captain’ and I call him that all the time,” Renji replied snottily.

“So. Renji,” Izuru said, leaning forward on his elbow. “Are you doing something different? With your look? I feel like there’s something different about you.”

Renji’s face lit up. “You noticed!” He swung his head around, his long braid swinging over his shoulder. “I’ve started braiding it!”

“Oh, no, it’s permanent?” Yumichika moaned.

“That’s not new,” Iba scoffed. “You slept with it like that the whole time we were roommates. I just figured that you didn’t have time to fix your hair in the morning anymore because you were too busy taking care--oof!”

“It looks very nice, Renji!” Momo said sweetly, extracting her elbow from Iba’s rib cage.

“It’s different,” Renji glowered at Iba. “I braid it loosely at night to prevent breakage and lock in moisture. This is an action braid.” He wheeled on Yumichika. “And I’m only French braiding it for now, because it’s shorter in front than in the back, you know, because of the accident. Once I’ve grown it out to all one length again, I’ll just do a regular braid.”

“You could just cut it to the length of the shortest part and go back to the pineapple hair,” Ikkaku suggested. “I always liked the pineapple hair.”

Renji turned pink again. “Ah, well. Rukia likes it long.”

“Yeah, I don’t think the braid is… what I was thinking of,” Izuru soldiered on.

Renji sucked his teeth thoughtfully. “I got a new tattoo? A pair, actually.”

“Oh! Did you?”

“On your chest?” Shuuhei asked hopefully. A healing tattoo would be a good excuse to cover up.

“Nah, on my thighs.”

Izuru sighed. “Since when do I look at your thighs, Abarai?”

“I have good thighs, Izuru.”

“He probably just looks different because he’s so happy now,” Rangiku suggested. “By which I mean getting your back blown out every night.”

“That could be it!” Renji agreed cheerfully. “Oh, I was wearing a scarf for a while there, when we had that cold snap! Is it the scarf? Or maybe the lack of scarf? It’s a nice scarf, Captain gave it to me for a wedding present. He says a man of quality should own a scarf.”

“I give up,” Izuru sighed.

“Hey, jocks, what’s going on?” a new voice interrupted.

“Akon!” half the table chorused and Renji scooted over so Akon could slide in next to him.

“Glad you could make it!”

“Yeah, sorry, I had an experiment I wanted to get finished up.”

“We were just talking about how there’s something different about Renji,” Shuuhei pressed.

Akon surveyed Renji for a moment. “Well, he’s got his tits tucked in for once. Aren’t you hot? You told me once you did that for ventilation.”

“That was very much a lie,” Renji clarified. “And I’m a married man now, my cans are closed for business. Speaking of which, Rangiku, fill ‘er up again, please, I’ve gotta keep up my wife’s reputation.”

---

Momo couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Out of their entire friend group, she was pretty sure she was the least interested in Renji’s… bosoms. There was a time… long, long ago when she had thought he was pretty hot stuff. She still counted him among her closest friends and favorite people, but had long ago come to the conclusion that big and beefy just wasn’t her type.

“Why, Lieutenant Hinamori! What brings you to my office?” Acting Captain Kuchiki Rukia leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. She must have been practicing, because the last time Momo had seen her do that, she had nearly fallen backwards out of the chair.

Momo sighed. “I have to tell you, this isn’t business.” Not exactly. It sort of was, in the sense that Shuuhei and Matsumoto (who apparently did care very much about Renji’s chest situation, so long as she wasn’t the one who had to confront him about it) had come over and dramatically draped themselves all over the Squad 5 couch and complained about the dreary state of affairs to Captain Hirako until he ordered Momo to go do some investigating.

“Good, because I have been filling out Nanao’s new skills-inventory-for-seated-officer forms all morning and I’m about to lose it,” Rukia said with an overly cheerful grin.

“We could go out to the yard and fight?” Momo offered hopefully. Maybe she could tell Captain Hirako that she got distracted and forgot to ask about Renji.

Rukia’s face fell a little. “Er, I’d love to, but I really shouldn’t today. Sentarou just made me this pot of tea, though. Do you want some? It’s lemon ginger, it’s really good.”

“Sure,” Momo agreed.

“So what’s up?” Rukia asked again, once Momo was perched in the guest chair, a fragrant cup of tea cradled in her hands.

Well, might as well just rip the bandage off. “I need you to know that I was put up to this by… you know. The idiots. The cowards we go drinking with.”

“Understood,” Rukia agreed.

“There is… some concern… about your husband.”

Rukia’s eyebrows shot up. “My sweet pumpkin pants?”

“I’m leaving,” Momo announced.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Rukia waved her hands, laughing. “I’ll be serious. What has that lunkhead done now?”

“This is so dumb,” Momo muttered. She cleared her throat. “He’s stopped going around with his bazongas hanging out all the time, and everyone’s losing their minds over it.”

Rukia stared at her. “Excuse me, his what?”

Momo made a vague gesture at her own chest. “You know. His… boobies.”

“That’s what I thought you meant,” Rukia nodded, her brow creased in thought. “Bazongas. I like that.”

“Not that I care!” Momo excused. “I mean, I agree, he should be allowed to dress how he likes, but you two seem to have a very equitable relationship and I said that I was sure he wasn’t doing anything that he hadn’t agreed to--”

“Hold on,” Rukia interrupted. “You think I had something to do with this?”

“You didn’t?” Momo asked. “He said he was keeping them tucked in because he was married now. We assumed it was at your request.”

“I didn’t even know!” Rukia replied. “I mean, I came home yesterday, and he was just--” she made a hand gesture like she was pulling her kosode open, “--completely out--”

“I don’t need to hear this,” Momo begged.

“Well, I tell you I had nothing to do with it,” Rukia assured her. “No one is more supportive of Renji acting slutty in public than me. Everyone knows I have that locked down, and honestly, it just makes me seem more powerful.”

Momo squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m going to punch Shuuhei so hard.”

Rukia rubbed her index finger over her chin. “It’s possible this came down from Brother…”

Momo whimpered, although, honestly, having a conversation with the other Captain Kuchiki about Abarai’s pectorals couldn’t possibly be more awkward than this.

“...or it might be… something else.” Rukia frowned. “I’ll talk to him, okay?”

“You will?” Momo asked hopefully.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it. I can’t promise to bring the jugs back, but I’ll make sure it’s just Renji being a doofus and not Renji hiding his anxieties under aesthetic choices or Renji being oppressed by his brother-in-law.”

“Thank you, Rukia,” Momo said. Rukia could be bossy at times, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “Sometimes, Renji has to be bullied into taking care of himself.”

“You’re telling me!” Rukia exclaimed. “Thank you for caring about him,” she added warmly.

“For the record, I care about him,” Momo replied. “Everyone else just misses the view.”

“Noted,” Rukia replied.

---

Renji had his nose stuffed in his cookbook, which lately, wasn’t a good sign. Renji only owned one cookbook, an encyclopedic tome that he only cracked open when he was trying something new or otherwise wasn’t sure what he was doing.

“I hope you aren’t making that kale curry again,” Rukia noted dryly.

Renji jumped three feet in the air. “Aaah, shoot! Rukia! I didn’t hear you come in! I’m so sorry!”

Rukia hopped up on her kitchen stool and leaned across the counter to give him a kiss. “We’ve been married for four months now. You don’t have to greet me at the door every single day, you know.”

“Sixteen weeks, three days,” Renji replied. “And I can still be sorry about it.”

“Just tell me we’re having something normal for dinner, and I’ll forgive you,” Rukia replied.

Renji jerked a thumb toward the stove behind him. “I made oden,” he explained. “It’s simmering, probably’ll be another ten minutes.”

“Ohhhhhh, I love your oden!” Rukia stretched her arms across the counter and did grabby hands at his hands until he laced his fingers through hers. “Did you make enough for me to take some for lunch tomorrow?”

“Depends on how much you eat tonight,” he replied. “Your appetite’s been really hit or miss lately.”

“Yeah, well...” Rukia agreed. “So what’s with the cookbook, then?”

“Oh,” Renji said vaguely. “I’m thinking about learning to bake cookies?”

“I’m in favor of that,” Rukia agreed, although her mind immediately went back to the conversation she’d had with Momo that afternoon.

“I’m not sure this book is helping,” Renji admitted. “If I was any good at baking, it would be one thing, but it’s too different. I’ve always been better at learning stuff from other people. Do you think it would be weird if I asked Iba’s mom to teach me? She used to make these little sesame biscuits for Iba. I would always steal them from him. They were so good and he didn’t properly appreciate them anyway.”

“It would absolutely be weird, and I think you should do it anyway,” Rukia proclaimed. She paused. “But maybe you could wait a few more weeks until we tell everyone we’re pregnant so all your friends will stop asking me what’s wrong with you.”

Renji’s eyes widened. “Did your brother say something last night? Because he told me he liked the braid!”

Rukia snorted. “No. He’s worse than you are anyway, he’s been reading books. Please make him stop, if you can. Actually, I’ve been getting complaints about,” she circled a finger in the vicinity of Renji’s chest.

Renji glanced down, and realized that his kosode was still neatly folded up to his collarbone. “Oops, sorry! I told you I didn’t hear you come home.” He immediately began untucking it.

Rukia leaned her chin on her palm, watching his progress. “I realize that making emotionally constipated people face their feelings is usually your department, but it seems you’ve got something heavy rattling around in there. Wanna talk about it?”

Renji’s eyes slid to one side. “Talk about what?”

Rukia cocked an eyebrow and waited.

Renji heaved a sigh. “Do you remember that time, back in Inuzuri, the first time I used my reiatsu in public? When I blocked a lead pipe with my arm?”

Rukia almost choked. “What do you mean, do I remember it? Of course I remember it.”

“Well, not so much that, but do you remember afterward, when you said I was too big and mean to be a sneakthief anymore? That it was better to confront the world and show it what we were made of?”

“I do remember that. I did not call you mean.”

“You probably didn’t. It’s probably just something I thought about myself.” He looked pensive for a moment. “In any case, it was something I really took to heart, especially after we split up. At first, I just wanted to make myself as big and loud and scary as possible. I liked the way people shied away from me. Later on, after I started hanging out with Yumichika, I realized that walking around sexy could be intimidating in a different sort of way, and I liked that, too.”

Rukia had a comment for that, but she decided to just listen, instead.

Renji smoothed the page of his book with his fingers. “I don’t want to look scary anymore.”

“You don’t look scary,” Rukia reassured him. “You haven’t looked scary in a long time.”

“I want to do better than that, though,” Renji frowned. “Has your brother ever talked to you about his dad?”

Rukia blinked, surprised, mostly that Byakuya had talked about Soujun with Renji. “A few times.”

“I, uh, asked him what his dad was like. Since I never had one myself. I expected him to either blow me off or start bellyaching, like he does about his granddad, but he didn’t. He said his pop was very gentle and kind. He said he was a good dad.”

“Byakuya loved his father a lot.”

“Yeah, that was pretty clear.”

“I hope he finished by saying what a good father you will make, but it’s my brother, so I’m sure he didn’t.”

“He said something about how he was sure I would proceed in my own way.”

Rukia sighed again. “Renji, you’ll be a great dad. It’s super obvious. I’ve only told half a dozen people that I’m pregnant and all of them who aren’t Byakuya have immediately reacted with ‘Renji is going to be such a good dad.’ You don’t need to change anything about yourself.”

Renji sucked his teeth for a moment. “Well, all my good dad instincts are telling me our kid is gonna wanna fight the world bad enough as it is, that the last thing they need is a dad who wants to fight the world, too. I’ve fought the world long enough. I’m probably never gonna be gentle, but I can try my best to be kind, and I can dress like a normal person in public for a change and… maybe I can make a cookie? It’s worth a try, I think.”

Rukia flashed him a sad, but fond smile. “You’re such a dork. A sweet, thoughtful dork, though, and I will support your experiment, even though you know I love your bazongas more than anyone.”

“‘Bazongas’? Oh no, did those assholes make Momo come and talk to you?”

Rukia shrugged and tried to look innocent.

“Anyway, you’re my wife, I will take them out for you whenever you want.”

“Yay!”

Renji furrowed his brow into its “determined” configuration. “Do not get me wrong. I am actually upping my chest day routine. I am going to keep them immaculate, and when my shirt gets ripped off in a fight, people are going to lose their minds over how lush my boys are.”

“I love you so much,” Rukia replied.

#renji's birthday 2k21 #my writing #this was a lot of fun i got to use all my favorite horrible synonyms for da tiddies #ok maybe not allll my faves

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ppersonna · 4 years ago

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love like this - pjm | m

never used to get excited to sit here in the silence. holdin' on to something the way im holding you. didn't used to know how fast time walks and runs and flies by. i never thought i’d feel so deeply, but damn, i do - love like this, ben rector

↳ summary- Jimin wants to make sure this birthday is your favorite one yet.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- park jimin x reader

↳ genre- smut, fluff, good god this is so fluffy because i am going through it right now.

↳ warnings- shower sex, oral sex (f receiving), praising, fluffy dirty talk, jimin being best boy, cute sex, light breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up babes!), jimin internally waxing poetic about oral sex lolol

↳ a/n - hi babies! i am in my feels right now and whipped this out because 1- its jimin and he’s my actual baby and 2- i lowkey dreamed abt this sort of scenario and im....... emotionally unwell llllloooooollll. i really hope you like this! i super recommend listening to the song in the title/summary because fuck its CUTE and sums up alot of this relationship! pls feel free to comment, message, talk to me in any way! i love you lots!

“Wake up, my love.”

Jimin’s whispers in your ear is like hearing the harps of heaven. The way it vibrates and rolls down your spine feels like silk. It doesn't startle you awake like it should, it simply awakens your consciousness.

Your eyes flutter open and the blinking red light of your alarm clock is the first thing you see.

11:54 pm.

You must have fallen asleep waiting for your boyfriend to return home from work, like you said you would. You had plans. Tomorrow is your birthday and Jimin wanted to spend the night beforehand with you. It was some sort of tradition, dedicating the night before a birthday to each other. It started out friendly, back when you both denied yourself the feelings you were both falling in. It lasted through the years, and through the relationship changes.

“Sorry, I fell asleep,” you mutter through a half-awake yawn.

He smiles at you from where he stands above. His hair falls in his face slightly, and he reaches his hand out to cup your cheek.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I’m late. Hobi kept us at practice until we had the dance down. You know how that goes…” he sighs.

You roll to sit up in bed and nod at the boy in front of you.

“I’m going to go shower, okay princess?” He states as he lowers himself to sit on the bed for a moment. “I’ll be back once I’m not drenched in sweat.”

You wrinkle your nose playfully at the thought, and he touches the tip of it lightly. There’s no need to exchange any more words. Jimin leans forward and captures your lips in for a kiss.

It’s sweet, so sweet it makes you nearly slide back down into bed into a puddle. He tastes like chapstick and sweat. He holds you there, kissing you like you’re the only person on earth he cares to be around, before he pulls away and smiles.

“Go back to sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up when I’m back.”

He stands and enters the en-suite bathroom, yellow light from the bathroom flooding into the darkened bedroom. He closes the door, but not all the way, so you can hear the way the water falls and his humming echoing against the tile walls.

You’re awake now—you stretch and yawn for a moment in bed before you decide to join in the shower with Jimin.

His back is turned to you when you pad into the bathroom and peer through the glass shower door. He’s humming his own song—it’s probably stuck in his head from practicing through the choreo all day.

He notices your presence by the chill of the air wafting through the open door.

“My baby,” he murmurs as he spots your sleepy smile. “Come join me.”

The door to the shower swings wide open and he stands in the spray as he watches you undress.

His eyes follow your hands as they tug at the t-shirt covering your frame. It’s old—from back in your college days, but Jimin finds it more alluring than any lingerie. It’s so classically you it makes his heart beat fast in his chest. He’ll forever associate the baggy shirt with the way you look in the mornings, messy hair and wrapped in his blankets in his bed. It’s domestic and sweet.

The shirt comes off and Jimin swears his breath hitches in his throat at the sight of your body. It’s been years now that you’ve been together, and yet it still feels like the first time all the time. You’re undeniably attractive, of course you are, but it’s more than just that. It’s the freckles that dot your shoulders, the scar on your stomach from your appendix surgery, the color of your skin tickled gold from the sun. It all culminates to be more than a seductive body with luscious curves. It’s you.

The shorts come next. Jimin is sure they’re an old pair of his boxers and the sentiment of you in his clothing pounds hard in his chest. He’s hypnotised by your long legs, soft hips, thighs that meet in the middle so softly and gently. He loves your body, every inch and curve and delicate sway. He watched as you struggled as a teenager to love and accept your body in its state. You hated the way it seemed too much, not like the others in school. Jimin thinks your body is the perfect mold. He loves the way his hands fit in the hourglass curve of your waist. He loves the plushness of your hips and solid strong thighs that hold you up with confidence.

Jimin loves every single inch of you and hasn’t stopped telling you that since the day he confessed his feelings to you.

“Come to me,” he whispers. His eyes drag up and down your body, before they settle at your own eyes. “I need you.”

You’re loathe to deny any request from the man, especially one that sounds so sweet.

The tile floor is heated from the temperature of the water. Jimin’s always liked the showers to nearly roast the skin off him. His hair is slicked back and his tanned and toned arms open for you—your favorite spot to slip into is the spot he designates between his arms for you, only you.

Your body presses against his and he’s warm, so warm that you audibly moan and press further into him. He feels like bliss. His arms encircle you and pull you tight around the middle while yours circle his neck. Any stress or discomfort in your body floats away with the steam of the shower as you rest your head on his damp collarbones. Jimin’s comforting grasp, and the way he presses his wet lips into your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, is the balm for all your wounds.

“I think it’s midnight,” he whispers as his hands smooth up and down your back. “It’s your birthday, baby.”

A smile spreads across your face, and you bury your blushing cheeks into his chest.

“I’m ollllddd,” you whine playfully and he pokes your sides with a laugh.

“Oh shush,” he chides. “You’re not that old… you’re just older than me.”

“Jimin!” You lift your head and gasp and Jimin throws his head back in laughter. You can’t help but join in, but your hands tickle at his sides, regardless.

“Okay, okay! I give!” He chokes through his laughter. “Mercy, please.”

You grant his plea and soon the laughter dies down and you hold each other tight, allowing the water to cascade down your joined bodies.

“I love you,” he whispers as he presses his lips to your neck and shell of your ear. “I’m so lucky to be the first one to wish you a happy birthday, every year.”

A lump in your throat forms and your eyes mist over. Jimin’s always been the one. He would wait up with you all night long every year of your birthday. He’d sleep over at your house in high school, stay on the phone with you during his idol training days, facetime with you while on tour across the country. Jimin’s been the one.

“I love you, Jimin.”

Finally, your lips meet where they’re magnetized to most. His plushy pink lips are turning red from the heat of the shower and they feel like warm pillows against your own. His hands wrap around you possessively, and he holds you like he doesn’t want to break you and like he can’t get enough all in one grip.

As he kisses you, he guides you down to the granite bench of the shower. It was an addition Jimin insisted on when building the house. Initially, you resisted and thought the idea too gaudy and expensive, but now that you’re here, being pressed into the warm rock surface, you’re thankful Jimin didn’t let up.

“Let me give you your first gift,” he whispers as he finally pulls his lips away from yours.

You’re breathless. You press your back against the wall of the shower and nod dumbly at the man above you. He adjusts the spray of the shower so it continues to bathe the two of you in warmth—he refuses to make you uncomfortable for even just a second.

Jimin stands before you, and you’re reaching to grasp at his hardened length to take what you think he intends to give you, but he bats your hands away.

“No, my love,” he coos as he lowers himself to his knees. “Today is all about you.”

Shivers erupt down your spine and your nipples prickle at the sensation. Jimin smiles as he watches the buds wrinkle and harden on your skin and he leans forward to pull one into his mouth. It feels hot, hotter than the water pouring onto your skin, and soft mewling noises escape you.

Jimin’s always known your hot spots. He spent the first 6 months of your dating life nearly writing a thesis on what spots you loved most, where you reacted the best when he focused his attention. He’s learned that worshipping your body with slow and languid kisses and licks has your internal temperature heating to its boiling point.

He sucks gently, nibbles the buds in his mouth as he palms the other with his hand. He loves the way you feel in his grasp, the weight of your pretty breasts filling his palms. He’s obsessed with every curve that makes the shape of you. He can’t get enough. He thinks he’s memorized your body in his sleep.

You gasp his name and arch your back to allow him more room, more access to your chest. He laves his tongue around the nipple he sucked on, before he switches to the other. He never lets them remain untouched for long—his tongue works on one while his fingers grasp the other.

Your legs spread open unconsciously, core dripping with heat comparable to the steamy shower above you.

“Please, Jimin,” you gasp out as he nibbles a bit and pops a bud out of his mouth.

His face shows no sign of teasing, no intent on making you beg or earn. Jimin is dominant with you, through and through, but tonight he has no intention of making you kneel before him or beg for his cock. He wants to worship you, wants to pour his love out with his tongue against your clit. And he intends to make it known how deep that love goes.

“Yes, my baby,” he whispers as his lips trail up your collar and neck to kiss at your lips.

His baby. You shiver at the sound of the possessiveness in his voice. It never fails to make you weak, to have you eating out of the palm of his hands. You’ve always been his, even before you truly knew it.

He doesn’t linger long on your lips. He cups a cheek and rubs at the gentle skin beneath your eyes as he gazes into you. Tonight, Jimin’s eyes say more than just raw or carnal desire. The color and look in Jimin’s eyes could write sonnets that rival the great Shakespeare himself. He looks as if he could compose symphonies devoted to you and the way you make him feel. The thought rolls around your head and makes your heart swell so big it feels as if it cuts off the air to your lungs.

Jimin trails his lips down your body, kisses at your reddened nipples one last time. His lips against your stomach and hips and thighs feel like his exaltation to you, as if he’s praying to you, a goddess, and offering his supplication for what you have given him.

He presses your legs open wider and stares with heat and desire at your center. It’s slicked up with arousal and colored a pretty pink that makes him dizzy with love. Jimin thinks his favorite color is the shade of fuschia of your clit.

You’re whimpering as he spreads your folds apart with his fingers. You can feel the heat of the shower, the solid breath escaping his plush lips that you’re desperate to have on you. Your legs tremble and Jimin smiles as he watches your big eyes plead for him to give you something—anything.

“My beautiful, perfect baby,” he invokes like a prayer. “So pretty and laid out for me. I love you. I love this sweet little pussy and how wet you get for me.”

Another desperate whimper leaves your lips and he can feel the desire rolling off you in waves.

“Let me hear you, baby. Let me hear those pretty little sighs as I drink you up.”

He leaves you no chance to agree to his gentle command and instead buries himself into the apex of your thighs. You gasp as his tongue makes contact with your clit and begins a languid vertical motion from your dripping hole back to the nub of nerves.

You whine out his name graciously, desperately, as his tongue dives into you and laps at the juices coming out of you. He drinks it like its wine, the finest and most expensive vintage. The way your body tightens and trembles at his touch makes him groan against your pussy. He feels so powerful with you, so loved and adored. He finds it incredible that even amid him pleasuring you, your response to his ministrations pleasures him as much as your mouth would.

His tongue and lips against your nub feel like stinging, delicious fire. It feels like the shower heats to a simmer by his actions alone, and it leaves scorching marks on your skin that make you gasp. His fingers grip at the thickness of your thighs and leave prints where they hold you tight. He likes the way the plush skin feels beneath him—the way his fingers leave bruises on your delicate skin.

“Jimin,” you cry. “Please, more.” You’re desperate for more but you’re quickly losing the ability to coherently ask for it.

Jimin normally would make you verbalize it, make you tell him exactly what you want him to do. But he feels merciful tonight. Maybe it’s the sweet gasps and moans you make that go straight to his cock and to his heart. He’ll give in tonight, make you feel in control of the events tonight.

“You want my fingers, baby?” He asks sweetly while his tongue spells his name out on your clit. He wants your body to recognize just who gets you going, who works your body to the brink every single time. You’re his, and he wants every atom, every strand of DNA inside you to know that.

You’re nodding quickly, hands trembling as you try to grip at something and come short. The slippery granite does nothing more for you than add to the desperation you feel and you’re nearly keening for him.

“Yes, my love,” he agrees.

Jimin slowly inserts his middle and pointer finger into your core. It’s a stretch for now, but he’ll slowly work you open until you can take every inch of his thick cock later. He wants to take you all night, have your body pressed up against his as he makes love to you on every surface of your shared bedroom and adjoining bathroom. He wants to give you a birthday present of filling you up as much as you want and can take it.

Once you feel his fingers breach you, your moans turn from breathy and needy to loud and wanton. It feels incredible to feel him inside you, filling an emptiness that lingers anytime he’s not within you. Once Jimin first slid into you so long ago, you knew he was the missing piece to your body and your soul.

“Fuck!” You shout as he flicks his tongue against your clit and sets a pace with his fingers.

He smirks against your cunt as you shout, knowing he’s got you now wrapped around his fingers. He coaxes more out of you by curling his fingers, pressing against the spongy spot within you that stops your breathing for a moment and makes your legs jerk. He coos his revelry into you and increases the speed. He wants to see your undoing, wants to watch the way your body lets go around his fingers and against his tongue.

Jimin’s tongue continues its barrage on your clit and you’re winding higher and higher and you can feel the way your stomach tightens to prepare for your end. He can feel your channel tightening and it eggs him on to continue, to pump faster and slip in a third finger while he suckles at your sensitive clit. You’re gasping out his name, pleading and begging and warning him as the end comes closer and closer.

In an instant, you snap and your cunt convulses around his fingers. He can feel it pulsating around him and your clit throbs against his tongue. He smiles, closes his eyes as he listens to you cry out your bliss and tug at his wet hair. He wishes he could record the way you scream his name at your end, always unable to hold back whimpering and whining his full name instead of whatever honorific he makes you call him the rest of the time.

He loves that you know it’s always him, always Jimin, making you reach your high.

Jimin’s tongue laps at the wetness escaping you as you settle down. Your breathing remains harsh but you’re able to inhale deeper and open your eyes. You peer down at him as he pulls his fingers from within you. Your gaze melts his soul. It speaks more than your words ever could. It tells him just how in love with him you are, just how devoted you are to him for the rest of your life.

Jimin doesn’t give you time to speak. He pulls your weak legs to standing and guides you out of the shower. He rubs you with soft, warm towels and dries your entire body before drying himself. He dries your hair with a smile as you peek at him through the white towel, before you lean forward and kiss him. He holds the kiss, moves his lips against yours deeply and passionately as he lifts you and walks you towards the king-sized bed. The blankets are messy from where you slept, but neither of you care to fix it. He tucks you into the sheets and follows suit.

His fingers trail hot on your skin as he kisses at your face, your chin, your neck.

There’s no speaking as he hovers over you, lines his thick length with your aching core and slides into you.

“Jimin,” you whisper as he sheathes himself fully.

The way you say his name sounds like a grateful prayer, a thankful benediction to him. It sends him reeling.

He starts the pace slowly, watches the way your eyes bore into his as the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room. It feels like white, hot bliss to be buried inside you. The slickness of your first orgasm coats him and he slides in and out of you easily.

Jimin never felt what home was until the first time he slipped between you. He never understood that home wasn’t a place, a brick and mortar building with belongings. Home is buried within you, taking two beings and joining them as one. He thinks wherever he goes, home will always be the way you cling to him, whisper your adoration to him as he makes love to you.

He can’t help himself from kissing your face, pressing his lips against your eyelids and your cheeks as he ruts into you. Your hips are matching his speed and time, egging him on and desperate for his own end. You want to treat him as well as he treated you.

It’s not just your body that feels deliciously stretched and full of Jimin—it’s your entire soul and being that feels as if you’ve finally found a piece of you that wasn’t quite complete. Jimin fits himself into that slot so easily, without fail.

“I love you,” he groans into your ear as he licks and kisses it gently. “I love you, so much.”

His words make you whimper, make your pussy tighten impossibly around his thickness and it makes him moan.

“Want to fill you,” he whispers as he sucks a mark into your neck. “Want to give us a baby.”

It makes your heart burst. You’re desperate for a family, want a child with the idol above you so badly you dream of it nightly. Jimin wants it too, wants to see you swollen with his baby, wants to start and raise a family with you, you, only you.

“Please!”

It’s all you're capable of asking, only capable of begging for what he offers you. Your heart rate speeds incredibly at the thought of finally establishing more than just you and him and bringing a life that is proof of your devotion and love.

He keeps at it, moving his hips faster and faster. He lifts his head up to throw it back at how good you feel, how close he is. You can tell he’s close to the edge by how desperate his breathy moans and sweet words come out. He drops a hand to circle at your clit—he wants to come with you, wants to make this moment about both of you, about the culmination of you.

The added pressure along with the look on his face that reads as if he’s memorizing every moment of this love-making sends you over your edge unexpectedly. The turbulent waves crash over you and send you soaring high, higher than you think you’ve ever been before. The passion in the love-making makes your end so much more overwhelming—it’s the physical manifestation of how much he loves you, and you love him.

Your walls contracts around him and Jimin whimpers a ‘fuck!’ as he feels himself unravel and pump his seed into you, as deep as he can make it go. The feeing is unparalleled, the highest point of bliss you think you’ve ever felt. You’re gasping out as it feels your entire body is sucking him in, milking him and wanting to keep him buried inside you for as long as you can. Jimin doesn’t think he’d ever leave if he had the choice.

The come-down from the high is just as blissful as the orgasm itself. Jimin is sure he’s never met someone who makes post-coital cuddling as intense and orgasmic as the sex itself. You hold him so sweetly, whisper your praise into his ear, tell him how much you love him and how you hope to be his forever and ever. You tell him you can’t wait to have his baby, to start a family with him.

Jimin holds you close, pulls the blankets tight around your still damp bodies.

As your breathing slows and evens out and he whispers a soft ‘happy birthday’ to your ears, Jimin knows he’s never felt a love quite like this.

#bts smut #jimin smut #jimin #bts fic #bts imagine #bts park jimin #bts jimin #park jimin smut #kpop smut #bts fluff #jimin fluff #park jimin fluff #bangtan smut #bangtan fluff #bangtanarmynet #heartsforbts

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peaches-writes · 4 years ago

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off season

description: student athletes need to look out for each other—well, at least seungmin needs to look out for your clumsy ass most of the time member: seungmin genre: fluff, sports au, best friends to lovers au, slice of life au, summer au, a side of college au (but like the ugly ass summer classes aspect of college life), implied fem reader word count: 11.3k warning: explicit language, blood, injuries, extreme sports, a very poor attempt at writing sports, seungmin worries the entire time for good reason note: a bunch of stuff put together it’s not rlly good sldkfsk like it was getting too lengthy i had to like haphazardly end it somehow + the one time you see me write a sports-themed fic & it’s not abt the actual sports i play lmao + also hi @t-toodumbtocare u told me to tag u so here we are

one - saturday

Amidst preparations for your incoming senior thesis, choosing your course specialization, clubs, and training, Kim Seungmin rushed getting his driver’s license before the end of your 3rd year’s 2nd semester for the sole purpose of driving you around the city this summer and you’re quite sure that that’s love. Though he disapproves of your specific choice of escapade that has you running around Seoul in circles in the first place, your best friend still made sure to pass his driving classes a whole month before the previous semester ended and with flying colors so he can “look after you” as he would put it. It definitely is love—simultaneously a heartwarming and annoying one at that.

“I can take care of myself, I’m an adult,” You feign a frown at him stubbornly for the third time this month, sliding in the front seat of his navy Subaru anyway and placing your gym bag in front of your feet. You then busy yourself with taking your roller skates out, switching them out with your old Converse. “and it’s not like I don’t know how to commute.”

But, just as you’ve had this conversation every time he picks you up from your dorm on Saturday evenings, Seungmin only dismisses your argument and replies, “Yeah, and you know transport is not the main reason why I chaperone.” From the corner of your eye, you then see him expertly shifting the gears and turning the steering wheel, driving the car to the campus’ South gate, his serious expression unwavering and making you stifle a giggle. “You could get seriously hurt playing. Your mom will kill me and your coach will kill you for that.”

“But I haven’t yet.” You counter with a slight teasing in your tone, pretending to ignore his last comment. You don’t even repeat this argument every week in the hopes of changing Seungmin’s mind at this point; after almost two months of the same starting conversation between the two of you, you just press his buttons now for fun. Undeniably, it’s funny seeing him get visibly riled up. “I’ve been playing derby for two months and the most I’ve gotten is a severely bloody nose. It’s nothing I can’t handle—“

“Yet.” He scoffs now in frustration before turning right to the main highway, well-aware of what you’re doing but letting himself get stressed anyway. “Even athletes get seriously hurt in the field, Y/N, we both know that.”

You only nod with a hum, twisting your body to Seungmin’s direction and poking his side. “I know, Minnie.” You assure, softer now as you finally let out the chuckle you’ve been holding. “Now relax, loosen up a bit! You know I’m just messing with you!”

“I know and it’s getting a bit concerning.” He rolls his eyes, finally relaxing his shoulders a bit and sighing in disbelief before swiftly swatting your hand away from his waist. “You talk like you’re not training for next year’s Championships.”

“Ah, but it’s because training isn’t as strict yet, at least with mine.” You shrug, sitting up properly in your seat as you take this opportunity to change the topic. “How’s your training, by the way? I barely saw you this week. Is Jeno giving you a hard time as co-capt.?”

You sink in your seat and look up at Seungmin expectantly after, smiling unconsciously when he doesn’t respond immediately to focus on driving, giving you a brief moment to admire his focused expression. “Training’s okay.” He eventually replies, quirking an eyebrow when he briefly glances at you over his shoulder and catches you staring. “Surprisingly, Jeno’s chill with being co-capt. We’re getting along.”

“’Chill,’ you mean lazy like you.” You scoff playfully. “Why have you been too busy to hang out this week, then?”

“Practicing my driving so I don’t accidentally kill you first before roller skating could.” He answers dryly, making you roll your eyes. “That and Mr. Im’s giving too much papers for an intersession class.”

“Right, summer classes. So responsible.” You scrunch up your nose. “Aren’t you tired? Training, summer classes, driving me on Saturdays, not to mention we’re going to be seniors after the break...”

When you don’t speak after trailing off, you see him shaking his head. “A bit, but driving you around is relaxing.” He corrects casually, missing the way he catches you off-guard. “It helps me think and, like I’ve said before, I get to look after you so, seriously, don’t try sneaking around me and commuting on your own or I’ll start panicking.”

Now, that is new to your Saturday conversation starter.

“Really now?” You raise your own eyebrow, trying your best to not sound too surprised. “So you don’t hate this as much as you make it seem like?”

“I didn’t say that.” Though visibly caught off-guard too, he shakes his head as seriously as he can look, not even sparing you a glance this time as he makes another turn. “But making sure you’re alive is kind of part of the best friend job.” He explains after, making you laugh. “And driving—driving’s always fun.”

“Sure, sure.” You smile as you try playing it off coolly, looking down on your hands as heat rises up your neck. “Whatever you say, Minnie.”

You first got into roller derby through Yuna, a freshman in your university and a fellow figure skater who began training alongside you during the 1st semester of your 3rd year. Sometime almost two months ago, one of her derby team members, Yeji, had to cancel a few days prior to an important game to attend to her personal matters and so she immediately turned to you as a possible substitute, noting your figure skating skills and how you’re already familiar with the sport from occasionally watching her. Naturally, with your adventurous streak, curiosity got the best of you when presented with the offer and, especially after winning the game, you’ve been hooked ever since; meeting up with her and the rest of the all-girls team almost every Friday and Saturday at the warehouse on the way to Incheon where the games are usually held.

So naturally, she always makes sure to meet you at the entrance of the venue, especially now that she’s not training with you for the summer to focus on her own summer classes and a part-time job.

“Finally, you’re here! I missed you!” She hurriedly waves at Seungmin before throwing an arm around your shoulder in a side hug. “How have you two been, lovebirds?”

“Ya, Minnie and I aren’t like that.” You roll your eyes as you briefly hug her back by her waist, careful of her arm injury from two Saturdays ago while expertly hiding the heat flaming your cheeks. With this gesture, you almost miss the way Seungmin’s lips frown every so slightly in front of you, if it’s because of the nickname or your reaction to it, you dare not to ask for fear of further embarrassment. “And I’ve been well, Coach Park isn’t going beast mode on me yet. Seungmin here’s been busy, though.”

“Oh, right! I heard from Jeno that your first game’s in 2 weeks already.” Yena then turns to your best friend expectantly. “How’s training? The game’s on a Saturday, right?”

“It’s...fine,” Seungmin answers slowly with a hum, almost as if he’s hesitant on what word to use. You then see him narrow his eyes at you when he sees the mischievous glint in your eyes at the familiar question. “...chill, actually.”

“Chill as in lazy.” And as expected, you chime in the same words you commented on the car ride to the venue, making Yuna throw her head back in laughter. “You know how our friends are.”

“As expected of Seungmin and Jeno together, I guess.” She nods in confirmation between laughs, making Seungmin groan in defeat even more. “How do boys in team sports even do it? Train, I mean?”

You shrug in response, giggling at Seungmin’s annoyed expression directed mostly to you. “Guess we’ll have to see in two weeks, right? Are you free on that weekend?”

“Yeah, intersession’s been hectic, but I’ll try and clear my schedule!”

“Oh coo—!” But before you could even comment more on a possible hangout with Yuna, Seungmin is already directing the three of you inside the warehouse impatiently. “Ya!”

“Yeah, yeah, finish your game tonight first then I’ll think about letting you in mine. Aish, you two are so mean to me and Jeno all the time.” He huffs with a roll of eyes, stopping right in front of the path behind the audience bleachers leading to the locker rooms.

Turning to you again, he then bids you goodbye with an affectionate pat to your head and a long sigh. “Be careful tonight, okay? Make sure to wear your gear properly.”

“Always am.” You assure with a wink, holding your gear up in front of him before he can take another step back. “Relax, would you? Just enjoy the show tonight!”

Seungmin nods at you with pursed lips one last time before waving goodbye as he starts retreating back into the crowd, most likely to join your other friends at the bleachers. “I’ll see you on the rink!”

“I’ll be the one with the star on my helmet!” You jokingly remind with a chuckle, smiling when he acknowledges you with a final wave before finally turning around to walk away properly.

“Ah, lovebirds.” Yuna comments on the side once Seungmin fully disappears into the crowd, making you glare at her at already knowing where this conversation is going to lead to. “Every single time you’re here without fail. So romantic!”

“Yuna!” You scold much like you’ve been doing the past two months, throwing your arm around her shoulder this time as the two of you now turn left to the lockers. “It’s really not like that!”

“I’m friends with Kai and Jeno but you don’t see those two caring if I die on the rink every game. I’m pretty sure they want me dead more than anything, even.” She points out in defense. “I’m telling you, Seungmin’s a whole keeper! And you already told me you like him too so what’s stopping yo—“

“We’re not dating ever.” You insist stubbornly, entering the locker rooms now where your teammates greet you (and Yeji scolds you again for arriving late). “He’s just looking out for me because he thinks I can’t commit to anything without threatening death. Besides, he’s busy, I’m busy—”

“—You like him, he likes you, you’re both dense.” Yuna interjects in the same enumerating tone you used, settling on a nearby bench as you move to your locker to change and prepare your gear. “The same speech every week, and they’re not even good excuses. Seriously, just date already!”

You open your mouth to respond while taking your outer clothes off, revealing your derby uniform inside, but Lia, as expected, suddenly pops out of nowhere, asking, “Who’s dating?”

“No one—”

“Will date, you mean.” Yuna corrects, turning your frown into a scowl now as you pop your head out of your shirt, carefully discarding the material inside your locker with your gym bag in exchange for your helmet and arm gear. “You already know who.”

At this, you see Lia smile knowingly and lean back on the bench as you hurriedly put on your gear and helmet. “Right, the lovebirds.” She nods at Yuna before turning to you. “Did anything happen this week?”

You quickly shake your head, adjusting your helmet as you do so. “No, Yuna’s just teasing me—again.” You then sit in between the two girls, re-tying your roller skate’s laces. “Don’t listen to her, she’s delusional.”

“Um, delusional for a reason!” The girl in question protests much to Lia’s amusement, bumping her shoulders with yours in the process. “Who even drives people to places even when they don’t want to? And he always insists on looking at your injuries after every game too? I think someone’s whipped and his name begins with a Seung and ends with a Min.”

“He’s just nice and—” You try to insist again but to no avail when you see her raising her eyebrows and smiling suggestively, your hands going up to your face sheepishly as your stubborn front easily breaks down at it. “Ugh, stop with those looks!”

On your sides, you hear Lia and Yuna laugh, patting your back and shoulders comfortingly.

“Hey, you know Yuna’s just messing with you.” Lia reminds you softly after a moment, prying your hands off of your face and helping you up. “You won’t let that get in your head now of all weeks, would you? It’s the re-match game against our seniors tonight!”

“It’s just you always put me up to it. Seriously, stop it!” You groan instead in protest, belatedly swatting the two away as you join your team back outside and to the rink. “I swear, if I end up getting thrown by Jeongyeon across the rink again tonight, I’m blaming it on you because you keep teasing me.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” Yuna rolls her eyes playfully just as you reach the rink, meeting the crowd’s cheers that momentarily prompts you to wave and smile at them. “maybe until later after the game.”

“Don’t even try pointing at Seungmin to me again mid-game.” You elbow her harshly, ending the conversation as the announcer, Jaemin, calls your team name and starts listing your numbers one by one in introduction.

“...number 5 Lee Chaeryeong, number 9 Shin Yuna, and number 17 Y/N Y/L/N!”

“I don’t have to,” Yuna retorts playfully as she prepares to slide in the rink before you, referring to your last comment. “You always find him yourself, anyway.”

And, as if her words easily got to you, you unconsciously find Seungmin waving at you from the crowd, seated with Jeno, Kai, and Jeongin who are holding yet another cheesy poster for your team. You wave back at him out of courtesy, glancing at Yuna after to roll your eyes in her direction.

“See?” She mouths at you before moving to the very front of the group with Lia and Yeji, starting the game. “Whipped!”

Meanwhile, you skate over to the back with the opposing team’s jammer, Jeongyeon, accepting her high-five before getting in position.

“Y/N, long time no see! Are you with your boyfriend again?” She teases just as Jaemin, blows the first whistle for the pack to start skating. “Seungmin, right? The kid from Legal Management?”

You glance at her briefly, skating on the second whistle first before exclaiming, “Jeongyeon, not you too!”

“I’m just asking!” She holds her hands up in defense, quickening her pace almost at the same time as you do. “Just so I know if you get distracted again!”

“I won’t this time, promise.” You assure, using the conversation to fuel your momentum and easily overtaking her. “I’ll be focused tonight!”

“We’ll see about that!” You hear her yell behind you as she catches up, dodging your teammates while you dodge hers to score a point.

Swiftly, you duck and jump around the pack, making sure to avoid Seungmin’s eyes when you pass his bleachers to prove to Yuna, Lia, and even Jeongyeon otherwise as you come in contact with them.

Eventually, with a little difficulty and a lot of harsh shoulder and hip bumps from Chaeyoung and Dahyun, you then score the first point with a huge gap between you and Jeongyeon.

“See, I’m focused!” You brag to your senior who runs behind you before turning your gaze ahead again.

“And the first 5 points of the night goes to number 17, Y/N!” Meanwhile, Jaemin announces into his mic from the center of the rink, catching a high-five from you as you pass. “Must be all that formal training, huh?”

“What are you talking about? This is how I usually walk!” You reply playfully, eliciting more cheers from the crowd as you naturally change into your athletic persona.

“And the figure skater brags again.” Jaemin muses out loud, receiving the banter well as the host. “Careful there, Y/N, Jeongyeon, number 1, is catching up quickly!”

But despite the warning, you take the time away from the pack to momentarily slow down, waving and receiving more high-fives from the crowd before finally looking over at Seungmin who is now on his feet and clapping wildly while cheering for your team, a stark contrast of his usual worried disposition at the start of the night. When you reach his bleacher as you quicken your pace to try and score another point, you lean over the barrier and send him a confident wink which he receives with a playful scoff.

“What are you doing? Focus on your game!” He scolds, the other boys snickering next to him.

“I’m just checking in with my biggest fan before he goes back to worried mode.” You grin at him, pinching his cheek affectionately. “How was my first five points?”

“Great, great.” He answers quickly, gently pushing you by your shoulder as if gesturing you to go back to your game. “Now, go, you have a pack to catch up to and a game to win.”

Cute, you think to yourself, a grin forming on your features as you bid him goodbye again to go back to chasing the pack around the rink. “Okay, Minnie, whatever you say!”

“You two are so adorable!” Sana points out as you reach her on the side of the pack after, not even bothering to block you or hit you by the hips now with how much she’s gushing over you and Seungmin. “So cute!”

“I know, right? Unnie, can you believe they’re still not dating?” Yuna agrees, letting her guard down momentarily from blocking Sana until she sees Jeongyeon catching up to you from over your shoulder.

“Yuna, stop it!”

“No! It’s fu—oh, look out!”

Behind you, Jeongyeon easily knocks Lia and Chaeryeong off their skates, her hand reaching your shoulder to propel herself forward in the tightly-knit pack.

“Come on, guys, less talking more hitting!” Your opponent jammer sticks her tongue out, purposely waiting for you to catch up before picking up the pace again. “Y/N, you said you’re not getting distracted!”

“Sana and Yuna were ganging up on me!” You retort in protest, bumping her by her shoulders and hips and overtaking her again. “More hitting it is then!”

“Oh, it seems like this second game between Team Neon and Team Magenta is going to be bloody!” Jaemin, quickly picking up on the commotion, comments. “Who will be our winner tonight? It looks like it’s going to be a very close call!”

“Ah, not on my watch.” You mumble under your breath, expertly knocking out Jeongyeon on the way to another five points.

The game ends almost two hours later, the score being 115-110 with your team emerging victorious and at least four overall cuts and bruises around your body. As soon as all the photographs have been taken for Instagram and the weekly plastic trophy has been passed around your team at least twice, Seungmin immediately takes you away from the crowd and your team right after taking your things from the locker room, his adrenaline for watching sports directing its attention to tending to you again and his cheerful expression switching back to worry.

“Minnieee,” You call for him for the second time as you near the bathroom at the end of the hall, tiredly stumbling over nothing when Seungmin doesn’t slow down a bit with his brisk walking. “Minnie, slow down a bit, my legs are tired!”

But he only slows down when you reach the bathroom, gently hoisting you up to sit on the cold marble of the sinks before taking out his first-aid kit and the ice packs he got from Jaemin from the outer pockets of his backpack. His serious and worried expression doesn’t falter once, looking even worse than the one he always wears on your car rides to the game. “Don’t move too much until I—until we’ve checked everything.” He instructs you, lifting your gym bag and his backpack that he’s been carrying with him to the side.

“You’re so serious again.” You feign another frown at him once you’re settled on top of the sink, gaze softening as he quietly and hurriedly shuffles around to wrap the ice packs in towels as if ignoring your comment. “Don’t I get another ‘congrats’ or a ‘good job’? I scored 85 of those 115 points. I’m fine.”

“I already congratulated you with the others out there,” He reminds with a frustrated sigh, carefully inspecting your arms and legs for more bruises he didn’t initially notice. “and you already know you did really well against Jeongyeon this time around but that fall before the 85th point...”

At the mention of your one violent fall tonight, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. “This one?” You ask for confirmation, lifting your shift up and pulling your waistband down slightly against your heated cheeks and Seungmin’s suddenly wide eyes. Clearing your throat, you hide it again from him as quickly as you showed it and assure, “It’s fine, seriously, I—“

But, just as stubborn as you are, Seungmin’s hands move shakily to the hem of your shirt, hesitantly lifting it up after looking up at you in permission to see the harsh mark. “I-It’s turning blue. You didn’t even ice it up properly when you switched positions with Chaeyeon.” He argues back as firmly as he can and thus cutting you off from showing him your other bruises, his other hand holding up the ice pack in between the two of you. “This one really needs the ice pack more than the rest.”

Your eyes widen back at him because of the gesture, freezing for a moment in place until you quickly regain composure and manage to stutter out, “O-okay, fine...” And with that, you take his hand off your shirt, holding it up yourself while your other hand takes the ice pack from him. “Th—shit—t-thanks.”

Seungmin only nods and hums in acknowledgement awkwardly, picking up two other ice packs wrapped in a towels and leaving one to rest on your right thigh while he hovers the other over your your collarbones. “The other two don’t look too bad, though.” He comments, changing the topic and muttering a quick apology when you hiss at the simultaneous cold contact on your skin. “You’re not hurt anywhere else, right?”

“I think I have a cut on my feet, I’m not sure, it stings a bit when I put too much pressure.” You shrug your free shoulder carefully, meeting Seungmin’s eyes when you turn to him again and find him hovering dangerously close to your face. With the way he looks at you expectantly for answers, you immediately figure out that it’s not time to tease or play games with him anymore. “I-I’ll just—walk back out with slippers, it’s probably just the blisters from last week.”

“We’ll have to check that too. You also have a cut on your lip, you know.” He points out after when he leans closer, his free hand picking up a small box of face tissues from the first-aid kit. “When did this even happen?”

Instinctively, you reach out to touch your bare lips first before taking the tissues from him, only then noticing the dry skin bumps that have now formed around what you assume would be a dried cut. “Huh, I didn’t even notice.” You muse out loud, closing your mouth and taking the tissues from Seungmin immediately when you feel the wound open slightly again. “It must be from when Chaeyoung hit me—shit.”

“Nothing you can’t handle, huh?” Seungmin mumbles under his breath, looking down on your thigh to check the bruise under the ice pack he left freely on top of it. “You’re so clumsy.”

You frown at him and the reference to earlier this evening, making him crack a small amused smile when he meets your gaze again. “Fine, maybe I am a bit—clumsy.” You admit hesitantly with a sigh and a roll of your eyes when he raises an eyebrow at you again. “But at least I got you to patch me up every time, right?”

“And that’s why I chaperone you.” He reiterates firmly, briefly taking off the ice pack he’s holding against your collarbones to inspect the bruise after and furrowing his eyebrows.

“Tch, it’s not like this happens every week. It just happened that tonight was extra violent, you know.” You reply slowly before licking your lips and disposing the tissue into a nearby chute.

“Yeah but point you still got hurt like you always do every single week.” He retorts before picking up the ointment and cotton balls next to you, taking a step back and crouching down to the level of your skates. Untying your shoelaces then taking your skates and socks off, you lean forward to see Seungmin wince at the amount of red blotches and commenting, “Look, you even managed to open your blisters tonight.”

“Is it that ba—sh-shit! Ya, Minnie, you’re pressing too hard on i—ya, it hurts!” You wince when Seungmin presses a cotton ball coated in ointment on one of your blisters, making you instinctively grip on the edge of the sink and lean back.

“Ya, you really didn’t notice this? At all?” He scolds, cleaning your wounds again but this time simultaneously evading your unconscious attempts at kicking his face.

“Well, I was too happy knowing that we’re advancing to fina—ow, ow, ow, it stings!”

“Ah, seriously. Ya, stop moving too much, I still need to bandage these.” He hisses, slapping your leg gently before going back to cleaning your wounds. “I’ll make it up to you later, promise.”

“Piggyback and ice cream?” You pout. “You’re being really harsh on my blisters.”

“Wheelchair if you don’t behave and kick me in the face.” He threatens, holding your feet in place by your ankles before going back to cleaning the rest of your wounds. “Now, just hold it in a bit.”

two - sunday

Seungmin also dotes on you by randomly checking in during your training hours. Though he’s always done this even before you started training competitively, ever since you’ve picked up your side hobby of roller derby this summer he’s started picking up a more consistent schedule of coming over on Sunday mornings (when he knows you’d still push yourself to attend training) to make sure that you’re not overworking and further damaging your already bruised and wounded body. It’s a bit too much for his character, you’d know very well as his best friend with years of observing how he treats his other student athlete friends, but he always brings you coffee and a cheat meal bento for when Coach Park isn’t looking so you can’t really complain.

“Minnie!” You greet him with a wave as he finally arrives, 8 PM on the dot just as you finish your best attempt at warming up your already sore body. Skating over to his side of the audience area, you then lean over the barriers with your arms folded on top of it with an anticipating smile, watching him get comfortable in his unofficial seat in the middle of the front row. “What do you have for me today?”

“It’s Korean special for today.” He answers with a smile, taking out a pair of familiar white bento boxes typically sold at the cafeteria of the nearby College of Architecture and shaking it in front of you before placing it on the seat next to him. Looking around the empty rink, he then asks, “Coach Park isn’t with you today?”

“Faculty meeting, won’t be back until lunch,” You shrug before another thought crosses your mind. “Hey, do you want to skate?”

Seungmin hesitantly shakes his head in front of your wide eyes, sinking in his seat. “No, I’m good, thanks.” He shrugs as casually as he can, though you’re quicker to take note of his gaze lingering on the smooth ice.

So, stubborn as you are, you insist anyway, “I see that look!”

“You’re supposed to be training—actually, you shouldn’t even be with all the hits you took last night.” He points out. “Anyway, don’t you need the whole rink?”

“I’ll be here the whole day. I can just practice seriously when Coach Park is actually here.” You grin widely, smoothly gliding to the gates now to fetch him. When he doesn’t move in his seat, you continue further up the stairs until your blades hit the rubber mats of the audience area. “And like you said, I shouldn’t be training with all the hits I took last night.”

“We can just skate around leisurely!” You conclude, Seungmin’s eyes narrowing up at you when you reach him and his body automatically cringing at the sound of your blades hitting rubber.

“Yeah, but—”

In response, you take hold of his free hand with your own while the other puts his backpack to the side, tugging him to the direction of the locker rooms. “I’m injured so I need help getting around.” You answer after halfheartedly.

“You were already skating before I could even get here.” He tries reasoning out but before he can even continue, you’ve already managed to pull him up to a stand, almost tripping the two of you even until he quickly balanced himself right in front of you.

“Kids will start training here by next week so this is literally the last time we’ll have the ice on our own for a while.” You counter back, already pulling him to the locker rooms with the loud thud of your blades. Glancing over at him from behind your shoulder, you chuckle as you catch Seungmin’s expression change into that of resignation as he finally lets you pull him along. “Ha, knew it.”

“I’m just looking out for you,” He states, more to convince himself than you. At that, you reach the locker room, proceeding straight to the unclaimed locker next to yours by the door for Seungmin’s skates—an old pair you stole from his house some two Christmases ago when he started visiting you like this.

“Right, right.” You giggle at him, passing him his skates and taking out another article of clothing from the lockers, this time a familiar hoodie from your locker that immediately catches Seungmin’s eye. “Just put these on.”

“Didn’t you say you lost this hoodie?”

“It actually got lost in my laundry for two months bu—ya, don’t look at me like that! At least I’m giving it back now! I don’t want you getting in there cold!”

Seungmin is exceptionally knowledgeable on many things like Legal Management (his course), baseball, music (especially singing with the amount of times he hangs out with Jeongin, his other best friend), and skating—but the last is quite debatable since his knowledge is limited to growing up watching you upgrade from the lake behind your houses when you were five to the rinks you train at today. He still doesn’t get how scoring works (”But you looked so great out there!” “Not to the judges, I guess.” “Huh?!”) and he still can’t differentiate the common jumps in competitive figure skating that well but you trust him as one who has a good eye for artistry and technique. He is a fellow athlete, after all.

“Can you extend your arms a little more?” He asks after you’ve shown him a particular step in a work-in-progress choreography for next year’s Championships. After a mini argument with him over whether you’ll practice your stunts while he’s still with you or just skate around until you feel tired, he somehow convinced you to show your choreography first before skating with you by offering to treat you to another bento box and a cup of iced coffee later.

Damn his negotiating skills.

Skating back to him from the other side of the rink, you sigh. “I mean I can if I’m not injured at the moment.” You answer, gesturing to the bruise on your collarbone hidden behind your own long sleeves. “Maybe on the day itself, you know, 7 months from now.”

“Then you should make sure to extend your arms out in that move when your bruise heals so you look pretty,” He concludes, taking your phone out of his pocket and pressing pause on your chosen music that now fades to a segment without choreography yet. “and don’t play any derby on that month.”

The last comment makes you smile as you now leisurely skate in circles around him. “So you’re allowing me to play derby until next year?” You ask with your most hopeful look, halting to a stop next to him and linking your arms with his after.

“I’m just saying in case you still want to play derby until next year.” He shrugs, following you around the rink when you tug him forward. “The choice is still up to you.”

You then take this as a sign that you can now skate freely around after a whole hour of “practice,” mindlessly leading the two of you around the ice. Seungmin would still trip a little bit no matter how many times you’ve tried teaching him how to glide smoothly on the ice but you pretend to not take notice of this, gently helping him balance himself wordlessly instead.

“Wait, do you still want to?” He asks after a moment. “Play after the summer, I mean?”

You shrug back, alternating your attention between thinking of a more elaborate answer and looking down on Seungmin’s skates to make sure he’s not threatening another fall. “Derby’s fun and all, especially right now on my off-season but I don’t know. It does take a toll sometimes.” You end up saying in the end, guiding Seungmin around the curve of the rink in increasingly larger glides. “Coach Park’s kind of getting mad at me already too when she sees some of my blisters since it’s not helping me break in my new skates.”

“So...yes, no, maybe?”

“Maybe.” You answer, looking up at him and admiring the way he concentrates on balancing himself. “Besides, I still have to ask you about it too.”

At that, you catch Seungmin’s gaze and raised eyebrow. “Me?” He repeats, almost falling over in front of him and prompting you to slow down.

“Yeah,” You naturally follow up, skating ahead of him and moving your hands back into his as you try skating backwards this time. “as my no. 1 fan—and by that I mean my best friend who always scolds me before and after the games but cheers on me wildly during—what do you think?”

You observe Seungmin without too much anticipation in your expression in case he correctly guesses that you’re expecting a certain answer from him.

“I’ve already told you before...” He eventually trails off after a moment before glancing at you again and sighing. “...it’s just, you look like you’re having fun but—”

“But it’s dangerous.“

“But you should play less.” He corrects seriously, skating the arms distance between the two of you and placing his hands on your upper arms, holding you in place. With this gesture, you look up at him with a confused expression, trying to decipher all the thoughts that seem to run over a mile a second in the way he glances back at you. “I’m always behind you and whatever you do, even if it’s dangerous and stupid, that’s what best friends do—but even that has limits sometimes.”

You pause. For some reason, you don’t think of an immediate and witty comeback to lighten what has unconsciously become a sincere atmosphere, your thoughts lingering instead to the conversation you had with Yuna just last night.

“Who even drives people to places even when they don’t want to?” You hear your friend loud and clear in your mind, almost nagging even.

Definitely not Seungmin, you think to yourself, especially if it’s another person like Hyunjin or Jeongin...

“Y/N?” Seungmin suddenly calls for you, his voice just barely above a whisper as he hesitantly lets go of your arms and snaps you out of your daze.

Blinking twice up at him, you catch him just in time before he can even skate back away from you, holding him by his fingertips. “So...” You trail off, furrowing your eyebrows in thought. “so yes, no, maybe—?”

“Maybe.” He finishes the thought for you, rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly before huffing slightly in the cold, a puff of white air escaping his pink lips. “That’s a maybe too, I guess.”

You nod slowly in acknowledgement, tugging him forwards. “So, in conclusion,” You reply slowly, changing your direction again as you now move yourself and Seungmin to the very center of the rink before breaking out into a chuckle to diffuse the unnecessarily tense atmosphere. “let’s get back to it after the summer?”

“That and don’t play derby when the time comes that you’re actually in Championships.” Seungmin points out, catching up with you now so you’re skating next to each other again. “Multi-tasking isn’t really your strongest suit.”

“Ya!” You protest, elbowing him gently and making him laugh.

“I was just kidding!” When you try skating away from him, Seungmin latches onto your elbow and desperately pulls you back to his side, barely missing another threat of a fall. “Don’t let go, I’ll trip!”

“Says the one who called me clumsy that I can’t multitask.” You roll your eyes with an amused chuckle

“We just had a really heartfelt talk and that’s all you picked up?” Seungmin feigns a frown at you, tightening his arms linked to yours. “You’re unbelievable sometimes.”

“It’s not like we don’t always talk about it.” You scoff, pulling Seungmin close by linking your arms again. “Though, I am a bit surprised with today’s answer. You just always know how to re-word the same thing a bunch of times, huh?”

“You brought it up and I answered sincerely.” He gestures to you with a tilt of his head, looking down on his skates after. “I didn’t even know my opinion was that important to you. I mean, you have been ignoring it for 2 months straight.”

“Like I said, no. 1 fan.” You grin before nudging him by his shoulder. “And I don’t ignore your opinion, I’ve been retiring from the game itself earlier like you asked me to before!”

“As if that makes a difference.” He rolls his eyes, pursing his lips before he could comment further. “You still play 3/4 of the game, anyway.”

“We’re going to argue about this for the whole morning if ever, Kim Seungmin.” You chuckle, holding his hand again and leading him to another spin around the rink. “Let’s just skate freely for now, hm?”

Coach Park arrives an hour earlier than she intended later on while you and Seungmin ate your bento boxes, prompting your best friend to not return to the ice after and to simply watch you from the stands instead. When your training ends almost five hours later, you’re quick to change back into your shoes in the locker rooms to return back to Seungmin’s side, making even your coach laugh in amusement.

“I’ll see you next week Thursday, correct?” Coach Park asks you as she readies to shut the power off the venue, still chuckling every time she glances at you standing next to Seungmin by the entrance. “Those wounds should improve by then so we can start landing at least half of your jumps.”

You nod, adjusting your gym bag on your one shoulder. “I’ll rest until then, promise!”

Coach Park then turns to Seungmin with a feigned strict look, pointing at you as she then instructs, “Look after them, Kim, alright? I trust you’ll keep Y/N in check until then.”

“I will, coach.” Seungmin assures with a nod and a smile himself, slinging an arm over your waist to help you balance yourself before turning you towards the direction of the entrance doors and concluding, “We’ll be off now!”

“Alright, see you!” You hear coach Park bid you goodbye before you pass through the double doors of the entrance, getting pulled to the direction of the parking lot by Seungmin after.

“I thought you’re buying me an extra bento box? And iced coffee?” You ask when you don’t make the turn leading to the College of Architecture, following Seungmin straight ahead to his car parked right across the building entrance anyway. “Ya, Minnie—”

“I texted Changbin to buy, it should be at your dorm’s kitchen by now.” Seungmin answers casually, taking out his keys from his hoodie pocket and pointing it to his car. Once you near the vehicle, he then opens the door for you on the front passenger seat, wordlessly taking your gym bag and placing it in the back along with his backpack. “If not, then I’ll just drive back here, I don’t have anywhere to be today.”

You smile at the thought, happily putting on your seatbelt. “I love you, have I said that this week?” You chuckle, wrapping an arm behind his waist in a side hug before he can close the door. “You’re the best, capt.!”

“It’s weird when you call me capt.” He feigns a scowl, patting your head and briefly hugging you back anyway. “And you only love me because I practically babysit you.”

"I never even asked to be babysit in the first place.” You pout, following him with your eyes even when he closes the door and moves to the other side of the vehicle to the driver’s seat. Turning your body to his direction as he turns on the ignition and starts driving away, you then add, “You’re supposed to say you love me too, capt.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes in an attempt to move your eyes away from the wild blush on his cheeks. “Put your seatbelt on.” He steers the conversation instead, placing a hand behind your headrest as he backs the car away from the parking.

“‘I love you too’?”

“What do you want to do when we get to your dorm?”

“Okay, I’ll take that. How about you choose the movie for today?”

three - wednesday

Though he never demands you for it from knowing full-well your own busy training schedule and classes, you’ve always made sure to attend each and every baseball game Seungmin participates in ever since you were children to cheer him on and he’s always thought that that’s your own version of showing your affection to him in return for his support for you. Though you can get a bit embarrassing cheering on him the loudest and always wearing his extra old jerseys to the games, he never complains about it anyway and only argues with you after the game about other things, mostly you skipping your own training to see him or attending his games instead of resting at home like today. It definitely is love—simultaneously a heartwarming and worrying one at that.

So today, at his baseball team’s scrimmage, he’s not even that surprised anymore when you show up with Jeongin by your side, insisting that your cuts and bruises are already manageable enough to let you walk without needing much help. He is, however, still worried over your well-being as usual.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks you for the fourth time since you met up right outside the field, an arm draped over your shoulder as you walk. Ahead of you, Jeongin and Yuna have already reserved seats along with the rest of your friend group, chatting away with some members of the team. “And you’re not skipping any training today?”

“I already told you, Minnie,” You giggle, limping a little from your blisters and leaning most of your weight to him with your hand on his waist. “My next training’s next week, you were even there when Coach Park reminded me! And it’s not like I’m playing, I’m just going to watch you today!”

“I’m mainly worried about your blisters since you were training last Sunday. You could’ve just rested at the dorms today.” He points out, sitting you down next to Jeongin on the aisle before kneeling right in front of you. “It’s just a scrimmage, anyway.”

“But I don’t want to miss a game,” You insist stubbornly, smiling reassuringly at him and his furrowed eyebrows. “and even if it’s just a scrimmage, it’s still you playing. I want to see you play.”

With this, Seungmin eventually sighs in defeat. “Whatever, not like I can walk you home now and get back to the game in time.”

“I’m already here and you can’t do anything about it.” You affirm with a chuckle, patting his arm. “Now, go, shoo, you have a scrimmage to win.”

Seungmin then turns to Jeongin, gesturing to you as he stands up, “Look after Y/N, please?”

“If you mean look after them as in not letting them topple over the seats then sure.” Jeongin nods with a laugh.

“Hey, I don’t—!”

But, as if ignoring your protests, Seungmin nods gratefully and bids you two goodbye. “Thanks!” He then turns to his teammates before you could even finish another sentence, ushering everyone to jog back to the field. “Okay, guys, chat time’s over. Let’s head to the field!”

“Ay, Seung, don’t get too flustered over Y/N now!” Jisung reminds him with a hand over the younger boy’s shoulders and a snicker, tapping on the mound with his glove as the two reach their designated positions. “Jeno’s pitching, too, you might get hit in the face if you’ll just keep looking at your Y/N.”

“Shut up, Ji.” Seungmin rolls his eyes, tapping on the mound as well with his bat just as Jeno signals from across the diamond, preparing to pitch. With one last glance at you, he then mutters to himself, “Aish, why did they even come today? They’re injured.”

Jisung opens his mouth to speak behind his helmet to ask what Seungmin could mean with his last comment but he’s inadvertently cut off by Jeno signaling for everyone to get ready, expertly throwing the first ball which Seungmin instinctively hits hard with his bat, prompting him to start running to first base before Daehwi and Eunwoo could even retrieve it by the chain link fences of the field, thus leaving Jisung to his thoughts.

“Yay, let’s go Kim Seungmin!” You cheer and yell from the bleachers, almost standing up with a struggle until Jeongin pulls you down by your arms, most likely to remind you of your injuries, which Seungmin is more than grateful for. “Go Minnie! Number 22! Number 22!”

As he runs, Seungmin makes sure to wave at you in responds when he passes by your bleachers, sending a bashful smile your way that only fuels more teasing from Jeongin without him noticing. You wave both hands back in response before he could turn his eyes back ahead, sinking in your seat as he now tries to aim for second base seeing everyone moving a bit slower than usual.

Eventually, he makes it to second base just in time, sliding into the plate and narrowly missing Daehwi’s attempt at getting him out.

“Yay, let’s go Seungmin!” He hears you yell and clap loudly again, making his ears heat up and everyone in the diamond to stifle their giggles.

“Hey, isn’t Y/N injured from last Saturday?” Daehwi asks at belatedly noticing your presence.

Seungmin then stands up and dusts the dirt off his uniform, adjusting his cap and turning his focus to Jeno and Hyunjin (who bats next) ahead. “I insisted that they skip today’s game since it’s just a scrimmage but you know how they are.”

“Really? That’s so sweet!” Daehwi squeals in delight, waving at you and the others from others bleachers. “and here everyone thought that Y/N skipping training was already cute enough! They just outdo themselves every time!”

“Way to romanticize injuries, Dae.” Seungmin scoffs, hiding a smile from Daehwi. Simultaneously, Jeno signals again that the game is about to start, preparing to pitch. “Seriously, it’s not cute. I’m more worried than flattered.”

“Right, because waving at them while running was definitely being worried,” Daehwi chuckles, getting in position again. “Just say you’re whipped and go.”

“You wish,” Seungmin scrunches up his nose, successfully dodging Daehwi again and leaving him on the second base. “but I do have to get going now!”

“Ya!”

“Woo! Go Seungmin!” You yell loudly and repeatedly again, until he successfully reaches home base which prompts you to finally stand up and jump around in cheer despite the pain your lower half. “Way to go Seungmin!”

Seungmin can only roll his eyes at you as he walks off the field, scoffing in disbelief when you don’t stop cheering even as he approaches you from the other side of the chain link fences since he’s already done for this particular inning.

“Why are you up? You’re injured.” He frowns, his hands going up the chain links. “Sit down, Y/N.”

“I’m fine!” You dismiss, sitting down anyway when Jeongin and Yuna start tugging on your shirt for you to sit down. “But, more importantly, you did well!”

“It’s just the first inning—and a scrimmage.”

“Scrimmage, formal game, it’s all the same, you don’t have to say it twice.” You retort, rolling your eyes and chuckling. “You looked really cool out there!”

The last comment definitely catches Seungmin off-guard but he hides it better this time, waving his hand in front of him. “It was nothing.”

“So modest,” You scoff with a proud smile, leaning forward and linking your hands between the chain links. “What do you want after the game? Ice cream? Tteokbeokki?”

“Don’t stand up too much during the game and I’ll think about it,” He answers instead. “and we’re not going anywhere after this with your injuries. I’m taking you straight home.”

“Fine.” You huff in defeat, gesturing to his teammates after. “Okay, now go back, Jeno’s looking at us weird.”

“Don’t stand up again!”

“I won’t!”

Seungmin meets up with you again after the game. When the scrimmage ends later that afternoon with Jeno’s team winning at 14-18 and everyone heading straight to the showers, he sees you with Jeongin right outside of the locker rooms, sitting on a nearby bench while the younger boy pesters you with questions on your summer training and last Saturday’s game.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jisung, accompanying Seungmin on the way out, greets you with an innocent slap to your back before your best friend could, making you wince in pain. “Oh, shit, sorry!”

“Ya,” Seungmin reprimands him firmly, slapping Jisung’s hand away from you before helping you up from the bench. “Careful, Y/N’s injured.”

“Why?” Jisung asks curiously, making everyone turn to him.

“Derby last Saturday.” You answer sheepishly, leaning your weight to Seungmin again appreciatively as he helps you balance yourself. “Got knocked out before scoring a point.”

“You would’ve seen if you didn’t have a date that day.” Hyunjin adds, playfully catching Jisung in a chokehold as your group now walks out of the lockers rooms and outside the field. “It was so bloody as fuck, they were against the league veterans!”

“You make it sound like I died and got resurrected.” You scoff, reaching out for Hyunjin with a struggle and slapping his arm.

“Don’t entertain him too much, he’s just dramatic.” Seungmin assures you, eliciting protests from Hyunjin.

“Really?” Meanwhile, Jisung frowns in jealously, prying Hyunjin off of him and kicking him from behind his knees as a comeback. “Ay, I really would’ve gone if only Haneul liked watching derby.”

“They don’t seem to like watching sports in general,” Jeongin points out bluntly, you nodding along to his right. “why are you still going out with this person, even? Clearly, they’re not interested in your major passion.”

“Because I like them,” the boy in question shrugs without hesitation, making you tilt your head in confusion. “I mean, Haneul’s cool but we—I guess we never really talked about the whole sports thing.”

“Why not? Bro, you’re aiming for the national team.” Hyunjin prods this time. By now, your group has reached and stopped on the sidewalk of the main campus road where you’re supposed to part ways since Jeno’s hosting a get-together but Seungmin’s insisted on taking you home. “In a few years, it’s gonna be weird being in games and having one less person to cheer you on, especially if that person’s your girlfriend.”

“Well, not everyone’s lucky enough to being in love with people who have similar hobbies as they do.” Jisung rolls his eyes dryly, his gaze instinctively landing to you and Seungmin after which only prompts you to raise an eyebrow while Seungmin glares at Jisung.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, making Jisung chuckle.

“Nothing, nothing.” He waves his hand dismissively at you before turning to Hyunjin and Jeongin. “Anyway, Haneul and I will talk about it again more later on. Personally, I’m not that bothered right now—I’m just happy we get to hang out.”

“But that’s because you started dating before any major games.” Seungmin speaks up after a while.

Jeongin nods in agreement. “We’ll really just have to see next Friday if you still think that way.”

“Seung, Y/N always attends our games so I don’t think you’re qualified to speak over my love life.” Jisung deadpans, prompting Seungmin to hit him again. “Ow! But it’s true!”

“What?” You scoff, finally getting what he means but pretending to not know anyway in embarrassment.

“Whatever.” Seungmin huffs dismissively at Jisung, directing you away from the group now. “Anyway, we’ll get going now. It’s getting late.”

“We’re seriously going home?” You frown up at Seungmin who’s now standing behind you, both his hands on your shoulders as he moves you to the opposite direction of where the rest of the boys are going. “I was hoping you’d change your mind last minute.”

“I didn’t bring my car here today and Jeno’s dorm’s on the other side of campus.” Seungmin answers your question, waving goodbye to the others. “Come on, let’s go home. We can order again or something.”

“Fine.” You sigh in defeat, letting him walk you backwards as you reluctantly wave goodbye at everyone. “Bye, guys. I guess I’ll see you next Friday.”

“Bye!” Hyunjin, Jisung, and Jeongin wave back at you as they laugh over your frown, the eldest boy making sure to add, “Have fun on your date!”

“It’s not a date!” You yell back at him in exasperation, making the three laugh.

“We’ll make sure to eat well for you!” Jisung teases, winking at you before Seungmin could pull you to the left turn leading back to your dorms. Before you completely part ways, you hear him yell, “Alright, now let’s eat samgyeopsal!”

Heading back to your dorm now, Seungmin stands next to you again, draping his arm over your shoulder again and matching your pace. You walk in comfortable silence for a while, that is until you think about Jisung’s words once again, prompting you to ask, “What was that about by the way?”

“What?”

“The thing with Haneul.” You clarify, tearing your gaze away from him to look down on the ground. “Jisung said something about other people being lucky that they like people who have similar hobbies then looked at you.”

“Looked at me? I thought he was looking at you?” Seungmin tries to joke awkwardly before stopping when you don’t laugh along. “It’s nothing, he’s just being weird.”

You furrow your eyebrows, looking up at him only to meet his side profile. Taking a quick inhale, you then try asking, “Seungmin...do you perhaps—do you like anyone lately?”

At that, Seungmin almost trips over nothing uncharacteristically, his grip on your shoulder accidentally tightening when he holds onto you for support. “Sorry, um—w-what?”

“It’s just,” You shrug awkwardly, feeling smaller under his arm now that your impulsive question suddenly made the air awkward. You walk slower now, despite your dorm being only a block away now. “what Jisung said and—and, you know, you’ve been busy lately.”

“Yeah, because of you and classes.” He points out, still with furrowed eyebrows. “I don’t—I don’t have time to date.”

“But do you want to?”

“Hm?”

“I-If you weren’t busy with classes, training...looking after my clumsy ass and all—would you...would you want to date anyone? Do you like...someone?” You clarify as clearly and as eloquently as you can against the pain on your feet from walking and the sudden loud hammering of your heart against your chest. Why did I even ask? You can only scold yourself internally, keeping a front anyway now that you’re in too deep to change the topic now.

Next to you, Seungmin thinks about your question carefully. He’s not actually thinking about the question per se, more like thinking about why you would ask such question. Are you expecting some kind of answer? “I...” He trails off in thought, catching your gaze momentarily from the corner of his eye. “N-No, not really.”

“Oh.” You muse out loud, trying your best to hide your disappointment. “I guess that’s understandable. You’re aiming for the national team, after all.”

Seungmin then stops walking altogether, making you stop. In front of you, you see your dorm building coming into view, confusing you even more when he moves in front of you.

“No, it’s....“ He shrugs, looking down on his hands before flitting his eyes up again to you. “all my time’s for you, classes, and training right now and it’s fine. Sure, the end goal’s the national team but at the same time, I have all I need right now—dating just so happens to not really a top priority right now.”

You nod slowly with a low hum, smiling at his sincerity after a while. “So I’m top priority?”

At your comment, his sincere facade immediately fades into a scoff, rubbing his temples up in frustration. “I answer your question sincerely and all you pick up is you being a priority?” He asks in disbelief, making you laugh. “And here I was, about to offer you piggyback again.”

“I was just kidding!” You bluff in between laughs, extending your arms out for him to carry you. “Piggyback, please! I live on the third floor!”

“Maybe if you didn’t respond weirdly to my emotional rant—“

“Ya, Seungmin!” You protest, hopping on your better foot and jumping on his back before he could even move away from you. “Ha! Got you!”

Reluctantly, Seungmin then adjusts the strap of his gym bag on his shoulder and hooks his arms under your legs. “If you’re not so injured right now, I’d drop you on the ground.” He hoists you up on his back with a groan, continuing to walk forward anyway. “Ah, this brat.”

You chuckle, pinching his cheeks before resting your arms on his shoulders. “But seriously...” You trail off with an awkward cough. “Just date, dude, you can multitask, better than me at least.”

You then hear Seungmin mumble under his breath, “Maybe if...” but you fail to catch the last words as he then shakes his head and adds, “Ah, whatever. How did we even get to this kind of talk?”

five - saturday

As if the universe is conspiring against you, you end up getting severely injured halfway through your next derby game the following Saturday. When the score is 45-70 in favor of the opposing team, you end up taking a nasty fall after successfully scoring a point, causing a broken nose.

So much for all the talks you had with Seungmin in the past days, you think to yourself as you catch his surprised gaze from across the rink.

Maybe it’s also because of how you’ve been talking to him a lot lately about his concerns for you and this sport that he immediately rushes to your side as Yuna and Yeji help you walk from the rink to the locker room as Jaemin suddenly announces a short break. Quickly and gently taking your arm from Yeji’s shoulder from the sides of the rink, the next three minutes are a bit of a blur to you as Seungmin multitasks between examining your bruises, assuring your teammates that he can take care of you, and walking you to the nearest bathroom—all the while scolding you under his breath.

You can only pout at him the whole way, letting him drag you along with him until he’s hoisting you up again on top of the sink counter much like every other Saturday.

Except it feels a bit different this time, especially since Seungmin has never looked this worried since you started this sport 2 months ago.

“Okay, let’s see that bloody nose again.” He asks you after a while, tilting your face downwards with his one hand (the other holding an ice pack from Jaemin) and scrunching up his nose with furrowed eyebrows. “Yikes.”

“I’m sort of choking here a bit.” You point out, shifting uncomfortably in your place at the feeling of blood on your tongue and the realization that you also have small cuts on your lips. “Um...”

You see his eyebrows furrow deeper in thought as he then turns to his side and places his backpack next to you, temporarily placing the ice pack in the space between your leg and his backpack and taking out a first aid kit. “That bad? Fuck.” He hisses under his breath, more to himself than to you, as he proceeds to prepare a whole bag of cotton balls, wipes, and ointment. “I can clean and ice this up but we’ll have to go immediately after this and get you checked out at the clinic across the street.”

“Really?” You wince at seeing Seungmin hold up a wet wipe to your face. “So I can’t finish the game?”

“You’re face is broken and you’re thinking about the game? Y/N, please...” He sighs disapprovingly at you, cupping your chin again and lightly dabbing on the trail of blood on your face with the wet wipe. “Try to hold in the pain for a bit while I clean your face and maybe try not to think about the game.”

"Sorry...” You trail off, pouting up at Seungmin and earning you another sigh from him.

“This is the worst I’ve seen you.” He muses out loud, his furrowed eyebrows slowly softening as he purses his lips. “What even happened back there? It was all too quick for me, to be honest.”

“The other team’s jammer bumped me a bit too harsh.” You reply slowly, careful of the blood on your lips and the sting you feel from inhaling. In front of you, Seungmin unconsciously winces through carefully cleaning your face. “We were skating on the slope going up so I ended up hitting my face on the barriers.”

“They’re visitors, right?” He asks you next and you nod quietly in response. “I’ll have to remind Jaemin to talk to them. If not, I’ll talk to them myself...”

“Seungmin—”

“You fell really bad, they should be accountable.” He insists anyway. “Even if derby’s a violent sport, there are still limits to it and this is just too much.”

You unconsciously mirror Seungmin’s frown the longer he stares down at the bloodied lower half of your face, your shoulders slouching deeply when he finally reaches the end of the drying red trail on your chin with his third wet wipe. The physical pain of a broken nose and a bruised lip can’t even compete with the guilt pooling in your stomach now as you observe your best friend’s disappointed expression, making you wince less and sigh more in front of him at knowing full well that it’s all because of how you played tonight. “Just say it already.”

“Say what?” He mumbles back, now with a raised eyebrow at you as he disposes off the used wet wipes next to you on top of the sink counter. He then passes you the ice pack, guiding your hands to slowly move it up to your nose. “Where’s this coming from all of a sudden?”

You see the genuine anticipation in his eyes of what you meant by your words, making you look down on your free hand rested right on top of the faint bruise marks on your lap. “That I’m being stupid for pursuing this sport, that I should stop playing.” You answer quietly as you shift in your seat. “It’s just that we were talking about this exact thing for the whole week and then it happens and now you look so upset so I thought...”

In front of you, you hear Seungmin sigh before gently tilting your chin up again, meeting your eyes with a soft gaze before moving his hands up to carefully massage your cheeks. “Ya, you’re not stupid,” He shakes his head. “you’re just clumsy sometimes but that’s because you keep forgetting that you’re supposed to be on wheels here and not blades.”

“Ya—”

“And this incident wasn’t your fault.” He adds after a while, when you don’t immediately speak. “I’m not mad at you, just frustrated. I’m mad at the other team, though.”

"Seungmin—” You huff in his touch, cracking a small and brief smile on his face.

“Anyway, I still think you should lessen playing, especially since the semester’s about to start again.” He interjects quickly before you can even say another word, briefly turning to your side to pass you another bundle of face tissues when he hears you sniffling. “but I’ll never ask you to stop playing completely because I know you really enjoy this. The same applies to the other one, of course.”

“Besides, what sport doesn’t involve getting hurt?” He adds as an after thought, taking out two plies of tissue for your incoming cold and the stray tear on your cheek.

“Um, board games?” You muse out loud as you take the tissues in his hands and place them in between your face and your ice pack, fully cracking his serious façade this time as he breaks into a scoff.

“You know what I mean.” You see Seungmin roll his eyes at you, making you purse your lips as a smile tries making its way on your cuts. When he sees your reaction, his thumb instinctively moves over to your bottom lip, stopping you from smiling. “Don’t smile, dummy, we just fixed that lip cut.”

The gesture makes your heart flip and your gaze unconsciously softens at him as you watch him dispose of all your trash with a small ‘alright, done.’ under his breath. “Have I told you I love you this week?” You speak in a low voice with no intention of sounding teasing at all this time, giving him a tight-lipped smile when he looks up at you again in confusion. “You’re the best, capt.”

It takes him a moment to process your words, especially with the unusual tone in your voice. Eventually, you see him return your smile. “You already did. I’m just looking out for you as usual.” He shrugs bashfully, offering you a hand which you gladly accept when you stand. “I love you too...”

“I know.” You nod, tugging on him by your intertwined hands and pressing a light kiss on his cheek when he tilts his head to your side. “I’m sorry again.”

“You’re being soft all of a sudden.” He points out, biting down a small smile. “It’s probably the fall.”

You roll your eyes at him, pressing the ice pack closer to your face. “How many minutes do I have to hold this ice again?”

“If you’re thinking of throwing that on my face, I’ll have you know I can deny you entry on my game next Friday.” He warns, placing his hand on the ice pack again to check your wound. “Fifteen more minutes. I’ll text Jaemin and Yeji for now, the clinic should still be open at this time.”

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notdonesimpin · 4 years ago

Text

leave ~o.m.~

osamu miya x reader

warnings: its just angst. cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater

synopsis: “Look, I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but if you want effort, I’ll give it to you. If you want time, I’ll devote all of it to you. Just please. Please don’t leave me. “

a/n: hope you enjoy :)

“I’m leaving,” you sharply speak, turning from him as you head towards the door.

Osamu's eyes narrow as he watches you walk away, “Of course you are. That’s all you know how to do.”

You pause, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You didn’t dare look at him. You didn’t want to see the nasty smirk he was giving you. The same look he always gave when you are trying to have a serious conversation with him and he just dismisses everything you say.

“Every time we start arguing, you leave! You don’t even try to fix the problem between us. How are we just going to get mad and stop talking to each other for days on end until we get over it for the rest of our lives?”

“I didn’t think you’d even thought that far in advance,” you huff.

“What the fuck is your problem, Y/N? The past two months have been absolute hell with you.”

You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your face as you turned around to look at him. “My problem? My fucking problem is that every time I see your face, i see her. Every time we have sex, I see her on top of you and me walking in as the tears roll down my face. I hear your pitiful excuse of an apology and accept it nonetheless. So, yes, the past two months have been hell. At least, I know you understand how I fucking felt when that happened.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I thought we were past that. It was a fucking mistake, Y/N! Are you going to hold it over me for the rest of my life?”

You storm over to him, getting right in his face, “Are you ever going to actually feel sorry about cheating on me? Every night, I think about how you told me that it was a mistake, and it’d never happen again. I don’t think you ever acknowledged how seeing you like that made me feel. Nor have you tried to make up for your mistakes.”

“Do you want me to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness? Do you want me to write a thesis on how wrong I was and turn it into you?” He raises his voice.

“Don’t raise your fucking voice at me like you’re the one who’s been suffering. I have had so many people look at me with pity because of what you did! Why am I becoming the outcast when you are the one that fucked up?”

You step away from him and sit down in one of the lounge chairs. “You want to talk it out? Let’s talk. Let’s put it all on the table.”

Osamu sits on the couch, facing his body towards you as you both fall into a boat of silence.

“Why did you cheat on me?”

Osamu rolls his eyes, “I told you. It was a mistake!”

“Mistake or not- Something had to be wrong with me or our relationship for you to even consider it!”

“I’m sorry that you think something was wrong. Nothing was. I just got a little carry away.”

“You’ve been plastered fucking drunk before and never hit on another girl. Am I supposed to believe that blatant lie?”

“I don’t know what you want to hear.”

“The truth, Osamu.”

He looks down, fiddling with his fingers, “I was bored. I know that’s a shitty excuse, but it’s the truth. I’m sorry.”

You feel tears begin to stream down your face as your heart breaks again, looking at the man in front of you.

He was bored? You were boring? Did you not give him enough of yourself? Was all you had not enough?

You snap out of your thoughts when you feel his hand on top of yours which causes you to jolt back to get away from him.

He couldn’t hide the surprise in your action. “Whatever you’re thinking isn’t true. I’m not bored of you or us.”

“Then how? I feel like I can’t leave your side or you’re going to get bored again. I’m so scared you’re going to do it again.”

“Move on or break up with me!” he snapped, growing frustrated that you couldn’t let the situation go.

“Do you want that? Do you want to break up?”

Osamu’s eyes widen as he realizes what just came out of his mouth. He doesn’t mean them. He knows he doesn’t, do you?

He’d never imagined a life without you, so he’d always been pretty laid back and hands off when it came down to things.

Even when he cheated on you, he knew that you’d still be his forever, so he never actually did anything to earn your forgiveness. He knows that Atsumu apologized on his behalf and even gave you a place to stay while you were balling your eyes out and he was working at his business with you at the very back of his mind.

He just never felt the need to show you how much he cared because he felt it was obvious, and now, it’s all crashing down right in front of his eyes.

“Y/N, I-” he can’t think of words to say that could make up for the things you’ve been through because of him. How can he make up for a year of doing the bare minimum in the next few seconds? Was two years really going to come to an end like this?

“Osamu. I love you so much,” you weakly smile at him, “And I hate myself everyday because of that.”

“Look, I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately, but if you want effort, I’ll give it to you. If you want time, I’ll devote all of it to you. Just please. Please don’t leave me.”

“So this is what it took for you to take our relationship seriously? Did I just have to think about breaking up?” you scoff, getting up again, “You know, I am so scared of there being someone out there that would treat me so much better than you. Do you realize how insane I sound? I’d rather be treated like shit by you than be with someone who doesn’t need to be told how to be a decent boyfriend. Someone who cannot accept doing the bare minimum.”

“You’re right! Okay? I am a terrible boyfriend. I have wronged you in more ways than either of us can count, but you still stood by my side. I took that for granted- I can see that. Nothing I can say can make up for the things of the past, but can you give me another shot?”

“Another shot? Like the first shot I gave you after you ghosted me for a month after we graduated? Or the second shot when I found you in bed with another girl? Or the third shot when I accepted Atsumu’s apology on your behalf because Atsumu knows that you can’t survive without me? I can’t live like this anymore. I won’t. Let’s end things here, Osamu.”

You walk out without another word as he just sits there, processing everything that’s happened.

He snaps out of his thoughts once he feels a tear hit his hand and before he knew it, they wouldn’t stop flowing. He watched his hands catch each tear as he thought: So this is what it feels like to lose your everything.

#osamu miya #osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya x you #osamu x you #hq masterfind

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2-cute-4-school · 4 years ago

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨

pairing: Lee Donghyuck x gn!Reader

genre: fluff, a small part of angst but all ends well ;)

word count: 2.4K words

a/n: my part of the christmas collab called ‘The Triangle That Defines Our Existence’, hosted by the lovely, amazing, incredibly talented, the sweetest human being who deserved the entire world @dearncityy (ღˇ◡ˇ)♥, thank you for allowing me to be part of this (੭ु｡╹▿╹｡)੭ु⁾⁾ ᶦ'ˡˡ ᵐᶦˢˢ ᵘ ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ ᶦᶠ ᵘ ᵈᵉᶜᶦᵈᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇˡᵒᵍ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʷᵉ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶦⁿᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗ

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You know how souls are connected? How soulmates are created from the stardust of the same explosion, traveling for millions of years through time and space just to end up meeting in the same coffee shop down the road over a spilled latte after living thousands of miles away for their entire lives? How oceans and mountains, galaxies and dimensions, hate and love tear them apart but this small string, thinner than a strand of hair, but stronger than an entire army brings them back together? How fate works?

Do you think snowflakes miss each other? Born from the same cloud, fluffy and blue, the interest of any curious child’s eyes and just the stretch of an arm away, almost like-

“The blue one, please!”

“Can I get the blue?”

The owner of the candy floss shop stared flabbergasted at the pair of you, hands stretched towards him with bills clutched in-between your fingers.

“I’m sorry but it seems like there is only one left and we’re out of blue colorant.”

At the newfound information, the boy beside you turned to you abruptly, cheeks flushed and determined shiny eyes.

“I believe I was here first, so I should be the one to get it.”

“Excuse me but you believe wrong, if anything, I asked for it first.”

You both scoffed in disbelief and carried on arguing as the owner watched with apologetic eyes while a line of equally impatient children accompanied by their parents whined for their own sweet treat.

“So therefore, as I have stated in my previous point of my thesis, I-”

“Move, we’ve been waiting here for 5 minutes already-”

Your new archnemesis turned to the kid behind him who dared interrupt his essay with burning eyes which might have just melted the frozen snot peeking from the child’s nostrils.

“Shut up, you bogey-eater garden dwarf! Learn how to respect your elders! You should- Hey!”

As you could tell the child’s mother’s eyes bulging out of their sockets and the choice of words directed towards her son, you quickly shoved the money in the owner’s hands, grabbed the stick of the blue candy floss with one hand, using the other one to drag the boy away from the commotion he himself caused before he lost an ear to the mom’s fury.

“Hey! Hey, you thief! How dare you-”

“Oh shut that trap for once, better thank me for dragging you away before that mother pulled a Van Gogh on you.”

He dusted himself off once you let go as if filth has touched him and you heavily debated just slamming the entire sticky candy on top of his head, but you decided against it. You worked to hard for it just to waste it on a head that didn’t even deserve it.

“This isn’t over, I still want that candy floss.”

“Let’s just share.”

He looked like he wanted to protest but he most likely couldn’t come with a better idea so he just sighed and shrugged dismissively. You both settled down on a bench on the side of the Christmas-decorated street and didn’t waste a second to dig into the cloud of sweetness.

“So... should I ask for the name of the person I fought tooth and bone for blue candy floss?”

“You want to go back and ask that kid? I’m not sure you’ll get out alive.”

You nudged his arm with your elbow and you both broke into smiles. He turned to look at you and you met his honey filled eyes, colorful lights dancing in them and it seemed like entire galaxies were celebrating the upcoming holiday too.

“Donghyuck. Friends call me Hyuck or Haechan. So you can call me Donghyuck.”

You deadpanned, but it only made him giggle louder. His nose was even more flushed than his cheeks and you couldn’t help but admire the way the rosy pink blended in with the natural tan of his skin. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he scrunched his nose mid laugh and you could understand why universes decided to reside in him.

“I hope you choke on candy floss.”

He only laughed harder and if Christmas was a laugh, it would have been Donghyuck’s, pure and hopeful.

“But what is my knight’s in shining armor’s name?”

“It’s Y/N. So you can’t call me. Ever.”

Despite your threatening tone, his smile didn’t lose its brightness. If anything, it shone brighter, lights and colors and happiness playing along his features and you couldn’t help but think that the moles on his face created constellations with the stars in his eyes. You saw art in what others saw as incident.

Donghyuck’s eyes widened as he stared at you, an exaggerated gasp leaving his lips before he exclaimed.

“A snowflake! It’s snowing! It’s snowing on Christmas Eve!”

“What? Where?”

“It’s on your nose!”

Your eyes crossed as you tried to catch sight of the small ounce of snow that settled on the tip of your nose. Donghyuck stared smugly as you turned accusingly and pointed a finger at him.

“You’re making fun of me!”

“I’m not! It really is-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you jumped in your seat.

“Donghyuck, one landed on your nose too! It’s there! It’s really snowing!”

And sure enough, one white traveller after another found their ways down in a whirlwind, waltzing on the last steps to their final destination in the eyes of thousands of admirers.

“Now we have matching snowflakes!”

Donghyuck laughed fondly at your excited tone, watching your enraptured eyes light up like a child’s and he thought that he might have found his Polaris. Right under his nose, he had found the brightest star in his sky.

“Yeah, do you think they were competing for candy floss too?”

“Maybe they confused it with their home. Don’t you think it resembles a cloud in this lighting? Maybe they thought they have found their way back home.” You pondered for a while, before grinning. “Mine won anyway.”

“Pffft, mine must have been confused by yours. How could you confuse candy floss for a cloud?”

You just shrugged, munching on the last bit of the sweet treat.

“Oh, Y/N, how much was it? Let me pay for my half.”

You thrust your phone in his directions, cheeks flushed less from the cold and more from the embarrassment of your next words. Donghyuck watched as you fidgeted in your place, his own expectant excitement building up inside of him as he accepted your phone gingerly.

“The cost is your phone number and a promise to share candy floss again. Only if you want to of course, don’t feel obligated to-”

“Let’s confuse snowflakes again, maybe it’ll snow again. My treat.”

You both smiled so largely your cheeks hurt the entire night.

~~~~

Your snowflakes decided to travel together on that fated day so you and Donghyuck decided to take their example. You stuck together and time didn’t seem to pass in the same way it used to. A year turned into a month, a month into a week, a week into a day and this day into a second. A second spent together. A second you cherished more than entire years. The second Donghyuck decided you put the moon and stars in the sky, or rather the single sparkly star on top of his Christmas tree.

“Stick that fucking star on that branch or I swear it’s either you’re taking a dive into the floor or my back will crack so loud your grandkids feel shivers down their own spine!”

“I’m obviously trying, Donghyuck! The branch is too thick, it won’t fit-”

“That’s what she said- oof!”

You made sure to dig your heel into his ribs hard enough to shut him up.

“Don’t you dare taint this holy evening with your bull!”

He grumbled under his breath but didn’t retort anything and struggled obediently to hold you up for long enough for you to put the finishing touch to his, no, both of yours’ Christmas tree: a silver, shining star.

“I told you it would be easier if we simply used a ladder, but nooo.”

“Where is the romance in that?”

“And where is the romance in me cracking your back and possibly falling on top of this tree?”

Your boyfriend groaned at your smart reply, tapping your thigh impatiently.

“Finally! You can put me down, the asshole has saddled up!”

“Never phrase it like that again please.”

After you were lowered, you both stepped back to admire the piece of art that stole- Donghyuck gasped softly once he took a look at the clock hung on the wall. Four hours?! How could that be possible, it only felt like... a second.

He turned to watch you instead of the overflowing tree, ornated in tinsel and lights. You glowed so much more than any view in this world in Donghyuck’s eyes. His Polaris indeed. No matter how lost he would ever be in life, tangled in his own mind, struggling against his own, one look at his brightest star and he’d find his way back to you through the darkest of nights. He deemed it only right for his guiding star to hang the star on top of your tree as if you hung it in a once starless night once he turned off the lights in the room.

Donghyuck thought that maybe he could live in an eternity in a single day with you.

“Ah, it snowed so much outside. It looks so fluffy, I have to!”

“What, no Y’N, wait!”

Before Donghyuck could even react, you sprung away from him, clumsily slipping on some shoes and running outside in only your sleepwear. Your boyfriend ran after you, gathering your jacket before joining you in the snow. He found you a few steps away from the entrance, crouched before a mound of fresh snow, digging your already reddening hands into it and spreading it around to form drawings and words. He sighed as he laid your jacket over your shoulders and crouched beside you.

“Don’t be so reckless, you’ll catch a cold like this.”

“Look who’s talking” you shot him a pointed look “where’s your own jacket if you’re so worried about colds?”

He spluttered for a moment, realising he forgot his own jacket in his rush to make sure you wouldn’t suffer too much because of the cold.

“I need no jacket. Jackets are for weaklings.”

You rolled your eyes, focusing back on the snow gathered in your hands.

“I feel bad for the snowflakes. They left their home, maybe they were even separated from their loved ones on the way down here. I bet they miss them. But they are trapped here once they landed. If only they would have the chance to fly for a little longer and search for them.”

You threw it in front of you, watching as it spread all around you, floating elegantly in a dance of their own before regaining their place on the spotless white dessert. Donghyuck watched you with curious eyes.

“I feel so bad for them I almost want to take them into my own home and care for them and love them-”

“But they’d melt.”

“Huh?”

“The snowflakes would melt. It’s not the right kind of home for them. Love isn’t always what they need, sometimes it consumes you little by little, it reduces you to nothing.”

“I’d rather melt into nothingness if it meant I felt even a second of pure love.”

‘That’s Y/N for you indeed’ Donghyuck could only shake his head as a small, content smile settled on his face. He scooped a little bit of snow into his cupped palms and brought it close to his lips. You shrieked.

“Don’t eat it! I get it, I won’t bring snow into the house!’“

He laughed so joyfully the shy moon cowered behind clouds at his beauty.

“I’m not planning on eating it, dumbass.”

“Then?”

“I’m wishing upon snowflakes?”

“Maybe we should head inside, maybe you have a fever.”

“Shut up, I’m not delusional. There are no dandelions during winter and snowflakes are our thing anyway, right? So let’s wish upon a snowflake instead of dandelions this time.”

He didn’t wait for you to react before he blew harshly into his palms, sending the small pile of snow flying out of his hands. Donghyuck could only think of a single thing while watching the swirl of the freed snow dancing in the dimly lit street in front of the house.

I wish for you to be my north star, to keep guiding me home to you.

~~~~

But sometimes it gets foggy. And sometimes you lose your way.

Donghyuck stared at his own reflection in the silver globe. He looked anything but Christmas-y. There was no twinkle in his eye, dull orbs gazing back at him almost condescendingly.

He’s always been a spitfire, a follower of his own fate that he made by his own hands. He swore to never let a flame touch, but promises are meant to be broken and his love, too burning hot, consumed you just like warmth consumed the snow. You slipped through his fingers just like snowflakes get separated in the harsh wind.

And Donghyuck was sure that if snowflakes could feel, they would be the most pitiful. A separation so sudden, so forceful, one that leaves you desperate to turn back time even for just a second. To watch them for longer. To hold on tighter.

‘Lee Donghyuck, you dumbass’

He sighs as he lowers the globe, putting it back into the box that would soon go into the basement where it resides for most of the year. One goodbye after another. Undecorating and storing away the once lively Christmas tree felt even more melancholic than usual, because while it meant a ‘see you later’ to the brightness of his house, he might have lost his chance at even saying a proper ‘please let me see you again’ to the brightness of his soul.

He looked up, catching sight of the lonely star sitting atop of the tree, the only decoration left. So far out of reach.

‘Feels so wrong to search for a stool for that after so long. Also feels wrong for me to be the one to take it off. I got too used to you.’

‘Too empty, where are your ridiculous decorations?’

‘Too blank, where are your rainbow vomit Christmas sweaters?’

‘ Too quiet, where are your late carols?’

‘...Where are you?’

Donghyuck had to shake himself out of his zoned out state, looking out the window at the lights still hung around his porch. He should remove those too. He stepped outside, being immediately enveloped by the winter winds blowing around the freshly laid out snow.

‘It snowed a lot this year. Where are your snow-angels?’

Donghyuck touched the scarf wrapped around his neck. The one he searched for for hours just to find it laid around the ‘neck’ of the snowman you both built earlier that day. Despite his scolding, he couldn’t help but think that who needs presents when his biggest blessing is smiling so purely right in front of him?

‘Are you building snowmen away from me now? Are you using someone else’s scarf now?’

His face contorted into a grimace. He grabbed two fistfuls of fresh snow, throwing them into the wind, watching them meddle amongst themselves

‘You talked all that shit about giving them a second chance to find their loved ones after a storm, to find their soulmates once again. So where are you?’

‘Why don’t you give me another chance to find you too?’

Donghyuck watched helplessly as the snow settled down once again. What if soulmates get lost forever? What if they don’t meet again? He crouched in the middle of the alley to his house. The same one you walked on and away from him.

A lonely snowflake landed on his hand, as if to prove Donghyuck a point. He couldn’t help but chuckle sarcastically, pain lacing his usually bright tone.

‘Are you feeling it too, buddy? Are you alone too?’

‘How about you, my love? Where are you, Y/N?’

Another snowflake slowly descended right by the one already settled on his hand. Destined together, by the hands of fate, by each other’s hand, by time itself.

‘Ah, found your soulmate, have you?’

‘Where has mine gone?’

A crunch resonated in Donghyuck’s ears, right in front of him. So close.

“Sorry for the wait.”

His head snapped up. Did heartbreak cause illusions? Did desperation cause hearings? No, while his brain took its time comprehending, his heart knew instantly. It recognized its owner.

“It got confused and a little scared on the way here, but it finally found its way back home.”

You were home. At home in his arms, nestled in his embrace, face buried in his chest, right above his erratic heartbeat.

“You know, late comers have to pay for the wasted time.”

“Oh, is that so? How much is it?”

“Just a lifetime spent together.”

Donghyuck’s eyes sparkled again.

~~~~

You still haven’t decided what takes the crown as the best replica of the fluffy clouds traveling lazily across the sky. You stick another piece of baby blue cotton candy in your own mouth while internally debating between the two choices. The floss of sweetness you had the luxury to eat at the moment or-

A whine interrupted you. Your head snapped to the side just to meet a pair of puppy eyes staring back at you, waiting for acknowledgement.

“Hyuckie too~”

“Maybe Hyuckie should have bought his own then.”

Despite your seemingly annoyed retort and the roll of your eyes, you still offered him a piece of cotton candy, one that he didn’t hesitate to snatch right from your hand the moment it was presented in front of his lips.

You stared adoringly at your boyfriend as he munched satisfied on the sweet and you could barely suppress the need to run your fingers through his soft locks, bury your hand into your own warm, lavender-smelling cloud.

“I’m getting flashbacks from our first meeting.”

You snapped out of your haze, redirecting your attention to Donghyuck’s words.

“Huh?”

“It’s the same bench. When you stole my cotton candy and then offered to share it with me oh so kindly-”

“I paid for it! And saved you too for the sake of it!”

“And then trapped me with you in order to repay you.”

You slapped his arm, watching fondly as he dissolved in a fit of giggles. You both knew he didn’t mean it, he spent countless hours thanking the world and you for bringing you two together and allowing him happiness. You sighed a bit melancholic, only just realising that he was right, this was the same bench you ate your first candy floss together. Same place, same people, same surroundings, different circumstances.

“It feels like an eternity ago.”

“And at the same times it feels like only yesterday.”

A beat of silence passed before Donghyuck spoke again, quieter, more careful, almost timidly.

“I’m scared too sometimes.”

You leaned into him, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder. He brought the hand that wasn’t holding your waist already up to your face, cupping your cheek delicately and caressing it with his thumb. His snowflake finally had a soulmate.

“Why?”

He bumped his nose against yours, leaning his forehead against yours. He had you, under his fingertips, breaths mingled, hearts beating together.

“What if it’s over before we realise?”

You hummed softly, your lips brushing against his as you murmured your next words, a secret shared between lovers

“Doesn’t matter. Time is nothing with you, an irrelevant notion meant to hurry us when all we want to do is linger a second more. For you and me, there’s no end and no beginning.”

And sure enough, here you were. Two snowflakes, vulnerable and in passing, sharing a cloud and a timeless bond.

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