#i said id be done in less than a week a week ago n then it became too hot to function lol. ive been punished for my hubris

[francy-sketches]

he's so sad all the time lmao

[videostak]

played thru sonic 1 tonight hooked up the old mega drive n played it was soooo nice idk mushy heart being employed nice relationship w/ my coworkers where i look forward to seeing them all but ya i havent played thru a game like that in so long i havent even played a game in like weeks but listening to lots of jazz n fusion made me start getting in a sega mood n now im using my laptop listening to jerma mario sunshine in the bg while i type (jerma mario sunshine n pikmin 2 are my comfort streams of his lol like it def evokes the same feelign of playing w/ a friend like i played thur mario sunshine w/ a friend a lil less than a year ago n its v much that vibe honestly i laugh my ass off so hard anytime im playing games like that w/ friends just anytime anything happens with the physics we burst out laughing so ya N E WAYS sonic 1 was so much fun its v chill like mario 1 well its harder than mario 1 for sure but more like dkc1 where ya it gets hard but never too hard like i havent rly seriously played a video gamee like that in forever so my chops are p weak but i could still beat it. i was sooo close to getting all the chaos emeralds but missed the last one T-T ive done it b4 but like i said my chops arent too strong but im gonna try againsomeday. anyways my laptop SUCKS so much i dont feel too guilty abt getting a new one cause like it is a necessity n i did get this one in like 2018 or smthn so its like a necessity im just gonna save up n set aside 300 dollars next few paychecks specifically for it n ease up on the CDs n food n stuff cause i love using laptop more than phone its just that this is soooo slow well once its on its p bearable to have two tabs open but like wheen i start it up it takes litrally forever for fireefox to connect to the intenet it just buffers for like 20 mins. or maybe ill set aside 400 a month idk ill seee i def gotta deeep deep clean my room and get a nice lil table to sit in my room n use the laptop n watch shows n movies on it on the regular ^_^ i srsly miss desktop n can understand why id stay up so late its a whole different n almost healthier world than the phone feels.

[glassartpeasants]

If you don't make a happy ending for couldn't care less you better keep bob with you at all times

HOW DARE YOU THREATEN BOB YOU KNOW WHAT-

Couldn’t Care Less .2

Shigaraki x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, death, blood, abuse, gore

~~~

“i hope that blue haired fuck got what he wanted. I hope that handyman freak dies alone.” You say to yourself as you walk down the alleys way of Musutafu. The smell of the dingey and moldy alleyways flood your nose as the laughter of happy couples ring in your ears. 

How come they got they’re happily ever after but you didn’t? It wasn’t fair. You did everything you could to be there for him. Yet he still treats you like shit, all because you cared about him? And then he thinks your cheating all cause you ask a male friend for advice! What an insecure asshole.

A vibrating in your pocket brought you back to reality as you realize your phone was ringing. Letting out a sigh you answer,

“Hello?”

“Come pick up your shit.” Oh, you thought you blocked this fuck.

“Keep it asshole. I don’t want anything that smells like ‘lonely bastard who only gets action from his hand’  on my clothes.  Burn it, decay it, I couldn’t give a shit less.”

“God you were always so dramatic. And there’s no reason to be a cunt.”

“And there was no reason for you to be an insecure dick. You either block my number or im calling the police and ratting on you.” A silence fell over the phone. Nothing was said until you finally spoke up.

“Jeez your pathetic. I’ll do it myself.” He was about to say something, insult your most likely before you hung up the phone and blocked him not seconds later.

“Now he’s outta my hair. I can finally feel some sort of calm.”

~~~

3 weeks later

After a day of coming back to your musty apartment you decided it needed a little bit of cleaning, considering you haven’t been their in about 4 months. You paid up front all the time even when you weren’t living in it. Just in case ya know?

You swept up the floors, vacuumed the carpet AND shampooed it.Cleaned the tub, shower and sinks, cleaned out your empty refrigerator, washed all you sheets and what clothes you left there. It wasn’t much so you knew you had to get some more before anything else. That and groceries.

 After all that was said and done, you sat down on the couch and just relaxed. Well you tired, that was before Shigaraki popped into your head again. It wasn’t a sort of loving way, it was a hatred sort of. The thought of his stupid face made you just want to punch a wall, pretending to be his face.

But you ignored it as you turned on the Tv, hoping that would get your mind off him. Nothing interesting except the news. Always talking about violence and war. Same old thing over and over. Blood, death, tragedy.

“This world is a cruel unjust place. The only way it seems to be recognized in this world is death or doing horrible things. Nothing good every comes to fruition.” You grumble before walking to your room and plopping down on the nice clean and still warm sheets. The nice smell of lavender slowly dragging you to sleep.

~~~

A loud bang hit your door which ripped you from your slumber. You were questioning on checking it out before you heard something that made your heart stop,

“If there’s anyone in the house kill them, we can’t have people knowing we ransacked this place.” You slowly get off your bed before moving slowly and quietly to your window. Your push your fingers on the glass and you gently push it up. Grabbing at the sides of the window you pull yourself out of it, not before hearing a gunshot and a burning pain inside your calf.

“Fuck! They’re getting away!” You could hear them from inside the house.

“Did they see you?!” You fell from your window onto the ground. Thankfully your apartment was on the first floor so it wasn’t a high drop.

“Not that i know of! I did shot them in the leg so they shouldn’t have gotten far!” You try your hardest as you run towards the main street. Cutting through alleyways, going as fast as you can as you hear they’re footsteps behind you. Looking up closely you see a hero, knowing he was your only chance you scream for help.

“Help me please!” The hero’s head turned towards you and ran towards you. You guess the robbers heard your cry for help because they’re footsteps seemed to be heading back your probably trashed apartment.

“Oh my! What happened?!” The sound of the hero’s concerned voice calmed you down a bit. 

“Some people tried to rob my place and i tried to get out of there silently but they must have came into my room and saw me leaving and shot me in the calf!” You wince as putting pressure on the wound burned hotter than hell.

“Don’t worry! I’ll get you to the hospital in no time!” You felt relieved before hearing a crunching sound, you looked to your left and see a familiar patch of blue hair in your peripheral vision. You ignored him before getting picked up by the hero and was carried to the hospital. The blood loss from your calf slowly dragged you into unconsciousness.

~~~

After waking up you notice the white room you were in. It was pristine to the touch and smelled of lemon cleaning products. The bright lights hallways peered inside your room from the crack of your door.

Looking around the small feeling of pain crept back into your leg except not as painful anymore. Pulling back the covers you notice bandages and a small bit of blood that stained through the bandages around your wound.

“Ah fuck that’s gonna scar. It’s gonna be a pain to heal too.” You say to yourself as you pull back the blankets and wrap yourself up in them. 

Right as you were falling back asleep the ringing of your cellphone brought you out. Grumbling in annoyance you grab it and look at the caller id. It was a number you didn’t recognize so you just let it ring thinking it’ll be the end of it. That was until it started ringing again. You sighed in frustration and picked up the phone, not wanting it to ring longer since it was in the dead of night at the hospital and you wanted people to be able to sleep.

“What the hell do you want? It’s the middle of the night.” You annoyed voice rang into the other side of the phone.

“Why tf were you talking to a hero? Did you fucking break your end of the bargain?” You were confused at first. You definitely knew the voice behind the phone. Then you remembered earlier that day when you saw him in the shadows.

“I was literally shot. You think im not gonna ask someone for help?” You rub the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t believe you. You always were a two faced bitch.”

“Oh jesus fuck, thanks for the insult. Glad to know what you always thought about me.”

“I’m going to kill you you backstabbing bitch.”

“Love ya too. goodnight and goodbye Shigaraki.” You hung up and blocked said number. You weren’t going to lie, hearing him spill such an insult and threat hurt you and made you very weary and afraid if he would actually go through with it or if he was just saying that to scare you.

You knew what those hands could do and you knew how painful that death would have been. You were hurt more than you liked to admit, at the beginning of your relationship he wasn’t aggressive or mean at all towards you.  He’d try to get you flowers or your favorite type of drink. He called you pet names that would make your heart flutter and beat, you don’t know what you did wrong for him to change so suddenly. It was like on day he flipped a switch, and you never knew why.

You tried recalling the day where it started and remembered that everyone was annoyed or being rude to Dabi, you didn’t know why and when you asked Spinner or anyone else they just said it was national, be a bitch to Dabi day. You laughed and shrugged it off ignoring it before walking up to your boyfriend giving him a kiss on the lips, only to be pushed into the wall and ignored. You just looked at him in shocked and it had only spiraled down from there to where you are now. 

Something had to be wrong. You knew it, Dabi had to have something to do with Shigaraki’s switch in behavior. You looked around the room for any camera and when you noticed that there were none, you called up the burnt male himself. He surprisingly picked up on the first ring.

“(Y/N)? I haven’t heard from you in 3 weeks. Or was it four? Doesn’t matter, where have you been?”

“Dabi, i need you to be honest with me, did you say something to Shigaraki?”

“Huh?”

“Dabi, five months ago Shigaraki flipped a switch and went from a caring boyfriend to an actually nightmare. I need to know if you or anyone else said something to him.” Dabi was quiet on the other line before sighing,

“About that time range i made a joke about sleeping with you, everyone knew it was a joke but apparently Shigaraki didn’t. I didn’t think he’d treat you like he did. Im sorry.” You fell silent. All this shit treatment because Shigaraki couldn’t a joke. Sure it pissed you off that Dabi made such a stupid joke but you were more mad at Shigaraki that he just treated you like shit instead of asking you and confronting you about it.

“Thank you for telling me. Do you know where Shigaraki is now?”

“He left about an hour ago, why?” Shit. You knew this was the only hospital close to your place and Shigaraki knew that too. You got up from your bed and locked the door before going back into your bed, watching the crack under your door incase the light was blocked.

“Dabi, I just want you to know that i forgive you.”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about-” Your phone went silent as the battery died.

‘Shit shit shit shit!’ you thought to yourself as you beg for the phone to turn back on. But you fell silent as the light from the outside of your room was blocked.

“(Y/N), I know you're in there, open the fucking door before i decay it down.” You said nothing in fear. You were glued to your bed as you faced the door.

But that fear was nothing compared to seeing him actually decay the door.

“You stupid snitch. i should make your death as painful as possible.” he said as soon as he stepped inside your hospital room. 

“Shigaraki, I didn’t snitch I promise. Why don’t you believe me!” You say as you get off your bed and try to get as far away from him as possible. The pain of the bullet would making you wince.

“Why would I believe a cheating bitch like you?” Before you could speak a four fingered grip wrapped itself around your throat. Shigaraki was always fast, you should have known that you were gonna die even if you tried your hardest.

“I didn’t cheat on you!” You try to pry yourself from shigaraki’s grip.

“Dabi says otherwise.”

“Are you really going to believe him?! You didn’t even talk to me or ask me about it! Just went straight to believing him!” The grip on your neck got tighter.

“then why was they’re a hickey on your collarbone?!”

“You gave it to me! It was fading out!”

“That doesn’t change the fact you snitched!” His pinkie was grazing closer to your skin.

“I never snitched, I was robbed and then they shot me. If you went to my apartment you would see i was right.” He said nothing just staring at you with cold dead eyes. 

“Look! I have bandages wrapped around my calf!” Shigaraki looked down before saying something back.

“It was something the hero’s did so they could protect you in this shit hospital.” I was at that moment you knew, nothing you said would change his mind. You shed not a tear while looking him in the eyes

“I wish I never met you. Fuck you Tomura Shigaraki, I hope you die alone and I’ll see you in hell.” You move your head so his last and final finger touched your skin.

The pain of your skin decaying and falling off was much more painful than you thought it would be. You can remember screaming in pain but, it felt more of a emotional scream rather than one of physical pain. but it seems you weren’t the only one screaming.

The sounds of Shigaraki wailing and screaming your name reached your ears before all you heard was silence and saw nothing.

Shigaraki scrambled to try and grab you and even put you together, but your bloody ashes stuck to his hand. Remains of your existence covered his clothes as he screamed in pain. 

“No no no no! Wait please! I didn’t mean it!” He cried as his tears fell onto your ashes, the tears collecting the ashes and forming a grey tear drop. He wasn’t thinking clearly, he’s sorry! He didn’t want to kill you! 

Bile rose from his throat as he puked all over the ground, inches away from your ashes. He grabbed your ashes trying to pick them up to hold what was left of you. But all he got was the remains of your smeared all over his hoodie. He shook violently as  memories of you guys replayed in his mind, your happy face and the way you use to love him and care for him.

But now, you were nothing more than ashes on his sleeve, reminding him that he was now truly alone.

[etceteraon]

losing heart | hjs

pairing: gamer!jisung x female reader

genre: f2l, fluff, romance, angst

warnings: slight language

word count: 10.2k

summary: after meeting and starting to date your close online friend of a few months, you start to realize that maybe you might have been better off staying online.

a/n: this is my first fic and I really hope it's enjoyable, I worked really hard on it and hope it meets any expectations. I also wanted to thank

@softbbyg0rl

for being so kind as to help me proofread this and actually help me expand upon it, I'm really thankful for their help and this probably wouldn't be half of what it is without them helping me out. I am indebted to them /j. I also had another friend help me read over this and I promised them a jeongin x reader in return, so expect that in the near future!

Video games had never been an issue for you before. You enjoyed them yourself normally, occupying yourself with various titles and genres of video games. Growing up you were known as the nerdy kid, finding interest in things that the other kids deemed ‘weird’. Really it was just that they were closed minded and couldn’t accept anything that was different or new. Anime and video games were entertaining, it didn't matter to you what other people thought about it. It was something that had helped you bond with some of your family members, and had helped you make a few friends over the years, one of them being your current boyfriend, Han Jisung.

The two of you had met online in a game you both enjoyed, Genshin Impact. Normally conversation in this game wasn’t much, just asking what the other needed and helping the other out with it. Things like domains, bosses, etc. After that was all said and done, you said your goodbyes and left, more than likely never encountering the other player ever again. When you and Jisung had met in the game however, things had gone much differently. It was only after about an hour of grinding domains that he had asked for your Discord, the two of you chatting on there for a few weeks before you both mustered up the courage to voice call. A few weeks after that, it was video calls. Only a couple months later, you two were very close friends, playing games and hanging out whenever you both had free time.

How quickly you two had clicked was a mystery to the both of you, but even your online friends were surprised at how fast you had let Han Jisung into your circle. Normally you were very particular about who you spoke to, let alone on a daily basis. Whenever you first met someone you usually spent the first few weeks getting a read on their personality and getting to know them before even thinking about actually getting close to them. It seemed Jisung had just rubbed off on you so quickly you hadn’t had a chance to actually go through your usual process.

When Jisung had suddenly brought up the idea of meeting in person just six months after first meeting each other online, it came as a shock to you, not expecting him to be the one to suggest it since you had learned he was actually an introvert despite his online persona. You had both learned that you lived relatively close to each other, having discussed where you lived previously. It was still about a two hour trip from your house though. Jisung of course had suggested he be the one to travel, but you didn’t want to cause him any more anxiety than he already had and told him you’d be more than willing to do the traveling.

A week was all it had taken for you to get on a bus and travel from your hometown to his. Jisung was texting you the entire ride there, clearly nervous with how many questions he was asking, probably wondering to himself if he should just call it all off. Your other online friends had gotten quite jealous since you hadn’t even met them yet, but you had to remind them just how much further away they were compared to him. They couldn’t argue with that. The two hour ride hadn’t felt long, your legs relieved to be standing upright as you exited the bus, holding your bag close as you looked around nervously. You had never done something like this before, and you honestly hadn’t even realized just how nervous you were up until now.

Scanning the busy sidewalk, you squinted, nibbling on your bottom lip as you struggled to focus, your heart slamming against your chest. Having to wear masks didn’t make things any easier, only being able to see the top half of people's faces really limited your ability to recognize someone you had only ever seen over the phone. After a few minutes, you had begun to wonder if Jisung had up and ditched you. Scrambling for your phone, you nearly dropped it, hissing as you unlocked it and looked over your messages with Jisung. He had said he was on his way to the bus stop a half an hour ago. It couldn’t take him that long could it?

About to call him, you walked over to the bench and sat yourself down, pressing the dial button and placing the phone up to your ear, looking around sheepishly, silently wondering if you were going to be ghosted and have to take another two hour drive home. Faintly you could hear the sound of a phone ringing, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you turned your attention to the source, seeing a rather short male with bleach blonde hair running towards the bus stop with a motorcycle helmet in hand. It was only moments before the male wearing all black actually reached the stop, looking around, locking eyes with you for a moment before pulling out his phone that was ringing and taking less than a second to look at the caller ID before answering.

“Y/n? I just got here- Where are you?” He questioned, nearly making you scoff into your phone’s receiver as you stood up, looking directly at him and cocking an eyebrow.

“Right in front of you.”

The slow turn and the look of realization was more than comical. Jisung’s eyes widening and then scrunching as he smiled under his mask. Hanging up the phone he slowly walked over, rubbing the back of his neck as he cleared his throat, shaking slightly with anxiety. “I uh, I’m sorry for getting here late. I kind of ran into an issue and had to do some last minute problem solving.” He explained, earning a head tilt from you. “What kind of problem?” You asked, wanting him to elaborate.

A quiet chuckle left his lips as he held up the motorcycle helmet he was holding, motioning back towards a bike that was parked on the side of the road. “I only had one. So I had to go and buy another.” You were sure your expression had matched Jisung’s from just moments before, in shock as you realized the motorcycle was his. If he was slow at realizing you were right in front of him, you were slow in realizing something much more obvious. “You never told me you drive a motorcycle…” You trailed off, Jisung nodding slowly in agreement.

“Ride a motorcycle but yeah. It never really came up and I’m not one of those people who constantly brags about riding one. It’s just a mode of transportation and happens to be cheaper than a car.” He shrugged, and honestly, you couldn’t argue with his reasoning. Clearing your throat, you shrugged your bag further up onto your shoulder, shifting your weight back and forth on your feet. “Well, I’m here. Now what?”

Jisung paused for a moment, seemingly processing your words before motioning towards his bike once more. “I figured we could go back to my place. I figured I’d order food since I’m not the best cook as you know. Almost burnt down my apartment on multiple occasions. My roommate is there, but he’s really chill. You’ve heard him every now and then on call or on mic. He normally keeps to himself, but I already told him about you coming and he doesn’t mind.” He stopped, thinking about whether or not that was everything he was wanting to say. “...Yeah. Unless you don’t feel comfortable with that of course. We can always go somewhere public and just hang out like that.” He offered, clearly not wanting to make you do anything you didn’t want to do.

“No, that sounds great.” You assured him, seeing his eyes scrunch as he smiled again, nodding happily. “Okay cool, let me just-” He stepped forward, getting alarmingly close and leaning forward. It felt as if your heart had stopped beating and the world was moving in slow motion around you. But before you could let your mind wander too far, Jisung placed the helmet he had been holding on your head, knocking you right out of your trance. “-ouch…” You mumbled, Jisung leaning back just slightly to look you in the eyes.

“Sorry, it’s kind of heavy, but it’ll keep your head intact.” He joked quietly, making sure everything was tight, locked and secure before stepping back and flipping the shield to cover your face, smirking slightly as he smacked the top of the helmet. “You good in there?”

Rolling your eyes, you flipped the shield back up to glare at him, smacking his arm as he laughed. “So you’re an ass in person too?” Jisung clicked his tongue before snapping his fingers and shooting finger guns at you. “You know it.” You were internally cringing, but before you could even think about teasing him for it, he was walking over to his bike and you had no choice but to follow, trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

You watched as he got on his bike, pulling his helmet on with ease and starting the engine, the loud sound making you flinch. If Jisung noticed this he didn’t comment on it, simply looking over at you and moving his head to the side, signaling for you to get on the bike. You had never rode one before, so this was a nerve wracking situation. What happened if you fell off? What if you got into an accident? Your mom had always told you just how dangerous motorcycles were. What if this was a bad idea?

Suddenly, Jisung was off of his bike and his hands were on your waist, lifting you up and onto the motorcycle, flipping your face shield back down before getting back on himself. He kicked the stand up so he was now balancing the bike himself. Looking back at you, he raised his voice so you could hear him over the sound of the motor. “I’d suggest you put your arms around me unless you wanna fall off.” Mean, but you knew he was just trying to tease you. You didn’t waste any time to wrap your arms securely around his waist, your head resting against his back. You swear you could feel him laugh as he flipped his face shield down, but you didn’t have any time to really think about it before he was off, riding down the streets of Incheon with you clinging to him for dear life.

The ride to his apartment felt like forever when in reality it only took a few minutes. Your grip on him hadn’t loosened in the slightest, far too afraid of falling from the motorcycle. Even after he had parked and turned off the engine, you were still sticking to him, an audible laugh leaving his lips as he took off his helmet. “You plan on letting go anytime soon?” He teased, you only shaking your head in response. He snickered before carefully prying your hands off of his waist, getting off of the bike and helping you off before taking your helmet and tilting his head slightly, noting your expression. “Was it that bad? I tried to be a little less reckless than normal.” His tone was joking, but you could tell he was genuinely concerned he had scared you.

“N-No it wasn’t that bad, just not used to it.” You assured him, stumbling slightly as you tried to take a step forward, his arms quickly reaching forward and holding you so you didn’t fall. “Jeez, we’re lucky you don’t have very far to walk.” Again with the teasing. You weren’t surprised by it though, Jisung had always been like that when you two talked. You scoffed, hanging on to his arm as you steadied yourself. “Shut up Ji. Where’s your place?” You questioned, Jisung smirking before leading you towards the building, letting you hang on to his arm without much thought. He didn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest despite having told you that physical contact made him nervous. You wondered what had changed. Carefully leading you inside and through the building, the both of you made it to his apartment, you finally letting go of him as he pulled out his keys and unlocked the door. If his roommate was home you weren’t sure why the door was locked, but you didn’t bother to question it as the door opened and Jisung motioned inside. “Ladies first.”

“When have you ever considered me a lady?” You joked, stepping into the apartment and looking around curiously, Jisung scoffing at your question as he shut the door behind the both of you. “Since always. You are one are you not?”

Shrugging, you didn’t answer his question, tugging at the straps on your bag as you walked further into the apartment. For some reason the decor didn’t really feel like it matched Jisung. After all, he had this whole e-boy/rocker look going on and you had fully expected the apartment to be messy and unorganized, but it was the complete opposite. It was clean, spotless even, and it made you wonder if he had cleaned simply because he knew you were coming to visit. Turning to look over your shoulder, Jisung smiled sheepishly, fiddling with a zipper on his leather jacket. “My roommate helped clean everything up. It doesn’t usually look like this.” He admitted, making you laugh and shake your head. “I figured as much.”

As if on cue, another male stepped out of a room in the hall, locking eyes with you and giving you a questioning look before noticing Jisung standing beside you, putting two and two together as a smile started to form on his face. “Oh, you must be Y/n-ssi.” He stated matter-of-factly, making his way down the hall towards the both of you and holding out his hand to you in greeting. You gingerly grasped his hand, smiling softly as he began to introduce himself while shaking your hand. “I’m Yang Jeongin, 01’ liner.”

Your eyes lit up at the realization that you were both the same age, “L/n Y/n, also 01’ liner.” You stated, watching as he relaxed a little realizing that he no longer needed to be so formal with you. The two of you let go of each other's hands, “Ah, well it’s nice to meet you Y/n. Jisung hyung has talked about you a lot.”

Raising an eyebrow, you glanced back at Jisung who smiled and shrugged as if to say he didn’t know what Jeongin was referring to. “I hope it was only good things.” You returned your attention to the male in front of you, watching as he chuckled and quickly nodded his head in agreement with your words. “Only good things. He’s always going on about how much he enjoys your company and how pr-”

“Yang Jeongin- '' Jisung cut him off suddenly, the younger male’s eyes widening before a mischievous smile crossed his face. The two males exchanged various expressions, you watching in confusion as they had a silent conversation with their faces. After a few moments, you cleared your throat, feeling awkward just standing between the two as they acted as if you weren’t right there. Snapping out of it, Jisung looked at you, quickly putting on a smile as he placed a hand on the small of your back, leading you towards the hall. “How about we hang out in my room, hm?”

“Wha- but I thought-” You trailed off, Jeongin following behind the two of you. “Seriously Jisung hyung? I thought we were all gonna hang out-” He mumbled, Jisung shaking his head as he practically pushed you into his room, stepping inside and shutting the door on Jeongin before the younger could hold it open. Locking it, Jisung turned to you, noticing your quizzical expression. He chuckled nervously, placing his hands in his pockets as he averted his gaze. “I just thought it might be better to hang out alone for a little while.” He stated, though his words sounded off, like he was only partly telling the truth.

You decided not to pry however, glancing at the door behind him. “What about Jeongin? He seemed upset.” Jisung shook his head, moving away from the door and closer to you. “He’ll be fine. He’s only being like that since we don’t normally have people over. After we hang out on our own for a while and go back out there he’ll forget about it.” He sounded so sure of himself that you had no reason not to believe him, nodding slowly as Jisung bit down on his bottom lip, seemingly debating something in his head.

“What’s up Ji?” You questioned, said male letting out a breathy laugh, not at all surprised that you had noticed something was going on in his head. “I uh- well I didn’t want to make it weird or anything but… I was wondering if I could give you a hug?” He sounded like he was nervous, and that suspicion was confirmed when you noticed how he was refusing to look at you, shifting back and forth on his feet. You found this cute, giggling quietly as you looked him over. You had just been practically glued to him while he was taking you back to his place on his motorcycle and now he was all shy and nervous because he wanted a hug?

Wordlessly, you crossed the remaining space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his waist and looking up at him. Jisung tensed up slightly at your touch, remaining still for a moment before wrapping his arms around you, holding you close and resting his head on top of yours. “I made that weird didn’t I?” Snickering, you nodded, still keeping your hold on him but closing your eyes. “Just a little, but it’s fine. You make everything weird.”

An offended sound left his lips, earning a laugh from you as he pouted. “I do not make everything weird.” He mumbled, watching as you slowly pulled away and sat down on his bed, glancing around the room to actually take everything in. The decor in his room definitely made more sense, anime posters and figurines, manga, various instruments, LED lights adorning the ceiling, his gaming setup. It was all very Han Jisung. A light blush adorned Jisung’s cheeks as he cleared his throat and sat down beside you, nibbling the inside of his cheek. “Sailor Moon huh?” You teased, watching as his ears turned red with embarrassment.

“You’re gonna make me take all of this down right now I swear.” He huffed, eyeing you as you took your bag off and set it on the floor before falling back onto his bed, looking up at the ceiling and kicking your feet. “I think it’s cute. I like Sailor Moon too, she’s pretty.” You admitted, meeting his gaze to show that you were being honest.

“I mean, what’s not to like about her? She’s funny, sweet, caring, cute- plus she has a cute cat and super powers. Not only that but her outfit when she transforms is adorable. I’d wear that if I could.” You trailed off, watching as Jisung’s expression changed. You couldn’t read what it was, but there was a slight sparkle in his eyes as you spoke about his favorite anime character. “What are you thinking about?” You pondered, Jisung smiling as he snapped out of his trance, laying down beside you. “I just didn’t expect you to like Sailor Moon too. We never talked about that before so I didn’t even know you liked anime.” You considered his words before realizing that he was right, nodding slowly.

“I do. I watch it every now and then when I have time, but I grew up watching it. Dragon Ball Z, Sailor Moon, Naruto, the essentials.” The two of you talked about anime and your other interests besides gaming for a while, simply laying on Jisung’s bed as you both relaxed and spent time together, getting to know each other a little more. It was almost comical how easily you two got comfortable with each other despite having never met in person up until then. You both stayed there for about an hour before Jisung had brought up his music, asking you if you wanted to hear what he had been working on. Of course you obliged, sitting up as he grabbed his guitar and made his way back over, playing a few songs for you after getting over his initial nervousness to sing in front of you.

You praised him for how good he was at singing and playing the guitar, also mentioning just how thoughtful and beautiful his lyrics were. He turned bright red at your compliments, shaking his head as he put his guitar back, holding out his hand to you as he came back over, asking if you wanted to go out into the living room and watch some TV and order some food. Of course you agreed and took his hand, getting up and following him out of his room and into the living room where Jeongin was sitting, his eyes moving from the TV to the both of you. “Oh, are you finally gonna come out here and hang out?” You could tell he was upset, but not enough to cause his voice to sound angry.

Jisung simply nodded at his roommate, going over to the couch and scooting him over before sitting down himself and patting the empty spot beside him for you to sit. You made your way over to the two males, slowly sitting down as you looked at what Jeongin had been watching, some YouTuber playing a game you had never seen before. Looked like both of the boys were gamers, which made sense. Jisung took the remote from Jeongin, switching it from YouTube to Netflix and clicking his account before handing you the remote. “You can watch whatever you want.” He told you, pulling out his phone so he could order food, Jeongin looking over his shoulder as he mumbled to the older male what he felt like eating. You laughed quietly, shaking your head before returning your focus to the TV.

You picked out an animated movie you hadn’t seen in a while, reaching forward and setting the  TV remote down on the small table situated in front of the couch. Leaning back you noticed Jisung’s eyes glued to the TV, confused at his expression until Jeongin also looked up. “Ah, Jisung hyung watches this all the time. I think I’ve seen it at least twenty times.” He mumbled, your eyes widening as you leaned forward to grab the remote. “I can pick something else if you both have already seen this-” Jisung quickly reached forward, shaking his head as he took the remote and set it back down.

“No, it’s fine. If you want to watch it, we can watch it.” There was something different about his voice, but you couldn’t quite place what. Nodding, you went back to your previous sitting position, Jisung mumbling something you didn’t catch before handing you his phone. “What do you feel like eating?”

The three of you debated over what to eat for a while, mainly because you would suggest something, they would agree and you would go right back to asking them if they were really okay with what you had picked and then you were back to square one. Eventually you actually managed to decide on something, Jisung ordering for all three of you and then focusing on the movie. The three of you sat in silence, enjoying each other’s company. It was about halfway through the movie that the food arrived, Jeongin getting up before Jisung could, opening the door and thanking the delivery person before bringing the food in and shutting the door behind him. He quickly sorted out the food in the kitchen before bringing it all over, handing both you and Jisung yours before sitting down and starting to eat his own, not even bothering to wait or thank Jisung.

Giggling, you quietly thanked Jisung who shrugged it off, saying it wasn’t a big deal as he began to eat. The rest of the night was spent pretty much the same, the three of you watching various movies before Jeongin decided to retire for the night, saying goodnight to both you and Jisung before shutting himself in his room, leaving you and Jisung alone in the living room. Once the movie you were watching was over, Jisung cleared his throat, causing you to look over at him, feeling a little tired, but not trying to show it. Of course, it seemed like Jisung knew even with you trying to hide it, a soft smile on his lips as he slowly stood up. “You can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.” Always the gentleman.

You opened your mouth to argue but he shook his head before you could, “I’m not letting you take the couch. So either you take the bed, or I end up on the floor. If you sleep on the couch I’m sleeping on the floor, so either way I’m not sleeping in my bed. Would you rather me sleep on the couch or the floor?” He didn’t give you much choice, but you knew he wasn’t bluffing. Groaning, you lifted yourself off the couch, ignoring his cheeky laugh as he led you back to his room, turning on the light and showing you where everything was in case you needed it. He then reminded you that he’d be on the couch in the event you needed him for anything, saying goodnight and giving you another hug before leaving his room and shutting the door to give you some privacy.

Everything felt like a daydream up until that point, a sigh leaving your lips now that you were alone in his bedroom. You locked the door so you could change into your nightclothes. After you had done so, you moved to unlock the door, your attention grabbed by an out of place manga just after. You walked over, picking it up and moving to put it back in its place, only for pages to fall out of it, your eyes widening when you thought you had accidentally ruined something of his, only to notice when going to pick them up that they were song lyrics and different ideas for songs. You felt like you were invading his privacy, quickly trying to stuff the pages back into the manga before your eyes fell upon your name. Furrowing your eyebrows, you couldn’t help but look over the page, eyes widening.

There was a knock on the bedroom door and before you could react Jisung was already in the room. “Sorry I forgot that I need to get my clothes-” He stopped once he caught sight of you, clearly in shock with how he simply stood there. You smiled sheepishly, placing the paper you held back into the manga and closing it. “I didn’t mean to look through it. I was going to put it up because I saw that it wasn’t where it was supposed to be and then a bunch of pages fell out.” You tried to explain, Jisung finally moved to take the manga from you, setting it back down on his desk before looking you in the eyes.

“You read it didn’t you?” His voice was calm, but you could tell by how quickly his eyes were scanning your face that he was anxious to hear your answer. Nodding, you bit down on your bottom lip, unsure of what to say or do. Jisung sighed, taking a step back and running a hand through his bleached locks, “God- I didn’t want you to find that… I meant to tell you, like actually tell you. I wanted to send you that song once I had finished it.” He mumbled, his admission making your cheeks heat up a little. So you weren’t reading too much into everything.

Reaching forward, you pulled Jisung into a hug, clearly surprising him as he squeaked in surprise. “Wh-” Before he could even finish his question, you interjected. “I like you too Ji.” It was simple, it was to the point, it was the truth.  You felt Jisung tense in your grip before relaxing completely only seconds later, pulling you closer to him as he let out a breathy chuckle. “So, I don’t need to send you that song?” He questioned, looking down at you as you smiled. “I’d still love to hear it.” Smiling, Jisung leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I think I’ll finally be able to finish it now.”

That was how everything had started, and that was what got you here. Laying in your shared bed staring up at the ceiling as the subtle sound of clicking and the drag of a computer mouse filled the room. You weren’t sure how long you had been laying here, but it had been a while. Slowly, you turned your body to the side, seeing your boyfriend's back turned towards you, facing his monitors, headphones over his ears. You weren’t sure when was the last time the two of you had actually spent any time together. In between work and his constant gaming addiction, it seemed you were always left to occupy yourself. When you got back from your job, he was usually asleep, so you’d climb into bed with him and sleep yourself. Almost every time when you would get up, he’d either be gone or sitting at his desk and playing video games. That was when your dislike for video games began.

Today was no different it seemed, a quiet sigh leaving your lips as you reached over to your nightstand, picking up your phone and checking the time. It was late. Though you could have guessed that by how dark the room was, the LEDs on the ceiling the only thing illuminating the room. They had been Jisung’s idea, but you hadn’t objected since you figured it would be both of your living space and he ought to have some things of his own as well. You felt a sinking in your chest as you came to the realization that your fear was more than likely true. You had gone off to work that morning hoping, praying that Jisung would at least remember your birthday. But it seemed he hadn’t, far too engrossed in his video games to even notice you were awake.

Gulping, you pulled yourself off of the mattress, deciding you weren’t going to make a big scene. You left the bedroom in silence, going out to the small living room of the apartment and sitting yourself down on the couch in front of the TV. You could feel tears pricking at your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall. Reaching forward, you turned on the TV, figuring a distraction would help keep all of your emotions at bay. That or it would drown out the sound of you crying once you finally broke, knowing it was only a matter of time before that actually became reality. You didn’t even bother to actually pay attention to what you had put on the screen, merely turning up the volume as you pulled your knees up to your chest, lowering your head so you could no longer see.

You weren’t sure where things had gone wrong. Really, nothing had. You and Jisung had been very happy from the beginning, and you had no issues up until you both actually decided to move in together. You thought that living together would have actually made it easier on the both of you, not having to manage your work/life load as much. Trying to date while living two hours away from each other and having jobs on top of that made things harder, but now that you two were actually living in the same apartment, it felt like you actually spent less time with each other. Odd how that worked.

In the moment, you were tempted to just grab your things and leave, overwhelmed with the amount of emotions you were feeling. Anger, sadness, betrayal, loneliness… it was all just piling on. It probably didn’t help that you never expressed how you were feeling, pretending everything was just fine when you knew it wasn’t. You were just never one to create a problem, opting to just suffer than make anyone else uncomfortable or feel bad. The sound of someone knocking on the door had forced any tears that were about to fall back into your tear ducts. You knew Jisung couldn’t hear with his headphones on, so you begrudgingly picked yourself off of the sofa, sulking over to the door and prying it open, looking out with a dead expression up until your eyes met ones you hadn’t seen in months.

“Chan?” You breathed, unable to believe he was actually standing in front of your apartment. When you had moved in with Jisung, you had moved to Incheon in order to not make it hard on him. This had caused you to leave your family and friends behind, including your friend since middle school, Bang Chan. He always had impeccable timing. Beaming, Chan held out a box that held a cake in it, a present in his other hand as he tilted his head sweetly, his curls falling just slightly. “Happy birthday Y/n! Surprised you didn’t I?” He chuckled slightly, watching as you took a step back, a hand over your mouth as you tried to contain yourself.

It seemed to be just enough to send you over the edge however, tears spilling from your eyes before you could stop them, a broken sob leaving your lips as Chan’s happy expression quickly changed to one of concern. “Oh God-'' He didn’t even ask to be let in despite having never visited yours and Jisung’s apartment before, stepping in, he shut the door with his foot. It took him only seconds to find a place to set down the cake and present he held, bending down slightly as he held your arms and tried to look you in the eyes, seemingly searching them for an answer. “Y/n what’s wrong?” He had known you for so long, there was no getting out of this one.

He knew that you never cried in front of anyone unless something was really wrong. That or you had been holding in your emotions for too long. This time it happened to be both. You weren’t able to blame it on being happy to see him, he’d be able to tell you were lying immediately. God why had he decided to visit you now of all times? Sniffling, you tried your best to stop crying, shakily wiping away your tears before Chan wiped the remainder away with his thumb, arching an eyebrow as he awaited an answer.

“I-I just… God…” You fumbled over your words, not exactly sure how to explain what was going through your head to Chan. Of course, it seemed he could sense this, taking your wrist and leading you over to the couch you had previously been curled up on, sitting you both down and smiling softly. “You can take your time Y/n. I’m not gonna rush you. Just tell me what’s going on and why you’re so upset.” He always had to be so understanding and kind. You just weren’t sure if he would be as understanding and kind to your boyfriend after you told him what was bothering you. He had always been overprotective and had even tried to talk you out of moving in with Jisung in the first place.

“O-Okay well, it’s really not that big of a deal. It’s just Jisung and I haven’t been spending much time together lately. I’m just lonely and upset.” You mumbled, watching Chan’s jaw harden at the mention of Jisung, his eyes narrowing and growing dark as he tried to put the pieces together. There were things you weren’t telling him and he knew it. “Is he busy with work?” He questioned, your heart clenching. Chan really was just going to get to the root of the issue wasn’t he?

“He is sometimes…” You trailed off, nibbling on your bottom lip as you avoided Chan’s gaze. You hated it when he got angry. It was rare for him to do so, but when he did, he was terrifying. “What about other times?” His voice was cool and even, showing no signs of anger, but you knew better. You knew he was probably itching to get his hands on Jisung and in your mind you were wondering whether letting him in was a good idea.

“Well… when he gets back from work he usually sleeps or plays his games. When I get back from work he’s either at his job, sleeping or gaming. I mean, gaming is his form of stress relief so… I get it. It used to be mine so I can’t really be upset with him for that. I can’t be mad at him for sleeping or going to work either. It’s not that big of a deal.” You were making excuses for him and you knew it. But you didn’t want Chan to lose his cool. The thought was more scary than spending your birthday alone. “So he’s choosing video games over you.” Chan stated bluntly, anger creeping into his voice.

Slowly, you decided to look at him, only to see he wasn’t even looking at you now, but rather around the apartment, one of his fists clenched as he tapped his foot against the hardwood floor. You didn’t respond to his statement, so it was only a few moments before he looked you in the eyes, giving you a look that told you to correct him if he was wrong. You searched your mind for something, anything, but you came up with nothing, gulping as you slowly lowered your head, sighing shakily. “I-I guess.” You whispered, feeling your body grow cold as you admitted it to yourself aloud. Chan cleared his throat, nodding as he looked around the apartment once again. “Is he at work right now?” The silence that filled the apartment was his only indication of that, but when you looked around, unsure, he could tell that he was wrong in his assumption.

“He’s here right now isn’t he?” He scoffed, the anger he had been holding back making a swift appearance as he got to his feet. Eyes widening, you quickly grabbed onto your friend's arm, knowing he could easily overpower you and do what he wanted, but he wouldn’t. He may know you like the back of his hand, but you knew him just as well. “Chan please. Don’t make this a big thing. I’m already upset and things getting out of hand is only going to make it worse.”

“Y/n-” Chan started, looking back at you, anger fading as he looked into your eyes, knowing that ultimately he was going to do whatever it was you asked of him. “Can I just talk to him? You and I both know that you don’t deserve to be treated like this.” He bargained, only causing you to shake your head in disagreement. “You know for a fact that you won’t be able to hold yourself back if you ‘just talk to him’.” You gave him a knowing look and he simply huffed, averting his gaze. He knew you were right.

“You brought cake right? How about we just have that and hang out? That’d make me feel better.” Chan’s tension had eased slightly at your request, taking a deep breath as he nodded, deciding he was simply going to appease you since it was your birthday after all. Getting off of the couch, Chan grabbed the cake and present he had set down in a hurry, going into the kitchen and setting it down once again. You followed shortly after him, looking over as he opened the box, a soft smile gracing your lips. He had remembered your favorite color. “It’s very pretty.” You praised. Chan clicked his tongue as he opened a pack of candles, starting to place them on the top of the cake. “Of course it is, I picked it out.” He teased, causing you to roll your eyes and smack his arm. “God you’re annoying.”

Snickering he shrugged his shoulders, pulling a lighter out of his pocket and carefully lighting the candles. “Yet you still miss me. Crazy how that works.” Looks like you two were right back to how you had always been. He wasn’t wrong though, you had really missed him. Being pulled away from everything you knew just for Jisung had been hard, but it had been something you were willing to do for your relationship. One you weren’t even sure was there anymore. Pulling you from your thoughts, Chan started singing. His voice had always been amazing. After he had finished, you blew out the candles, Chan grinning and ruffling your hair before pulling out the candles and starting to search the kitchen for something to cut the cake with. “So, what did you wish for?”

He always asked that question. Every single birthday of yours without fail. You always responded with the same thing. “You know I can’t tell you that. If I tell you it won’t come true.” Laughing, Chan shook his head, amazed that you still stuck by that. “You actually think that matters?” He questioned, earning a nod from you as you opened the drawer that held your kitchen utensils, pulling out a knife and handing it to Chan who thanked you before getting to work on cutting the cake. “Have any of your wishes come true that you haven’t told anyone about?” He pondered, the question making you think back on your previous birthday wishes.

“Mmm, there have been a few actually.” Chan gave you a questioning look, pausing as he did so. “Like what? Since they’ve already happened you should be able to tell me right?” You considered it before figuring that he was probably right, pulling out two plates and forks before sitting yourself down on one of the barstools that were placed along the island in the kitchen. “For my sixteenth birthday I wished for a skateboard and I ended up getting it that day.” You stated, Chan smirking as he continued to cut the cake, shaking his head.

“Maybe because you had been bugging your parents for it for a whole year. Only to never use it despite me telling you I’d teach you how to ride it.” He added in the last part just to chastise you, placing a piece of cake on a plate before handing it to you along with a fork. “I highly doubt that had anything to do with your wish.” You rolled your eyes as you took a bite of cake, humming quietly. He had remembered your favorite flavor of cake too. Of course he had.

“You don’t have to hate on me for believing in birthday wishes just because you don’t Chan. I get it, you’re too grown up to believe in something silly and childish like birthday wishes.” You could tell he got slightly irked by your words, scoffing as he got himself a piece of cake. “That’s not even it-”

“Then what is it?” You cut him off before he could finish, tilting your head slightly as you stared at him. Chan slowly took a bite of cake, looking you in the eyes, considering his next words carefully. “None of my birthday wishes ever came true. So I stopped believing in things like that. I think it’s endearing that you still do though.” He admitted, causing you to frown. “None of them? Not one?” You questioned, Chan seeming to think back on it as he stood there in silence, looking down at the cake. “Mm, I guess there was one that came true?” He sounded unsure, but you leaned forward in your seat, smiling as you waited for him to elaborate.

“I think it was my eighth birthday? The memory is kind of foggy, but I remember wishing for another sibling. It’s kind of dumb now that I think about it, but it did come true.” He shrugged, looking back up at you as you giggled while taking another bite of cake. “I’d say that’s a pretty big wish. The stars probably just figured that wish was enough for a while.” Chan rolled his eyes, snickering as he shook his head. “Yeah sure, whatever you say Y/n.”

The two of you enjoyed each other’s presence for a while, seeming to forget about the issue at hand which was exactly what you had been wanting. Not wanting to confront it or make a big deal out of anything. Chan was helping you ignore your problems and you were more than grateful, the male stating that he wanted to watch you open the present he had got you, so you both moved from the kitchen to the living room, the TV still playing whatever it was you had put on. Gingerly, Chan set the present on your lap, waiting patiently for you to open it.

You had always gotten nervous when it came to opening gifts. You were never a fan of surprises and presents were just wrapped surprises. Slowly, you pulled the tissue paper out of the bag, peeking inside. Your eyes widened once you realized what it was he had gotten you, gasping as you practically ripped it out of the bag, looking it over with wide eyes. “Oh my god- This is so expensive Chan. You really shouldn’t have.” You pried your eyes from the present to meet his gaze, seeing just how happy he was with your reaction to the gift. “I knew you’d like it. I’m sure you’ve been eyeing it for a while now. You always do that with the new lines.” He stated, making you nod in agreement.

“I actually had this in my cart for when I could afford it. It still scares me how well you know me. I never even told you about the new line.” Chan simply shrugged, acting as if it was no big deal. “What can I say, I’m just that good.” He chuckled, already leaning back as you reached forward to smack him.

For a few hours the two of you just sat and talked, not even realizing just how late it was getting. The two of you were making up for lost time, only able to talk over the phone or text, sometimes video call depending on just how busy the two of you were. Life as a producer was busy, that was also part of the reason you were so surprised he had shown up at your front door. It was the last thing you had been expecting. Just like you hadn’t been expecting Jisung to leave your bedroom. It seemed he and Chan had noticed each other’s presence before you had even noticed Jisung, standing silently in the hallway as he looked between the two of you. You immediately turned your gaze to Chan, seeing the look that was on his face before had returned. That wasn’t good.

“Who is that-?” Jisung finally spoke, looking at you with confusion and slight fear. It was then you remembered that Jisung and Chan had never officially met, your eyes widening as you motioned over to your childhood friend. “Chan. Bang Chan. I’ve told you about him, remember? My best friend since middle school.” You explained, Jisung’s expression growing more relaxed as he slowly nodded, remembering discussing him before. “Ah, yeah. We’ve never met before.” Jisung smiled, making his way over to the couch and holding out his hand.

Chan stared at it for a moment before deciding not to be a total ass. He took his hand and shook it, gripping it tightly before paying Jisung a sickeningly sweet smile. “No we haven’t. I’m sorry for not telling you before coming over but I thought I’d surprise Y/n for her birthday.” There it was. You had been expecting him to say something, but you hadn’t been expecting him to say it right out of the gate like that. Confusion was written on Jisung’s face for a moment before his eyes widened in realization, his gaze quickly flitting to yours. “O-Oh…” It seemed he finally understood the tension coming from Chan.

Slowly you lowered your gaze, fiddling with the present Chan had gotten you. Jisung took a moment to look at it before looking to the kitchen, seeing the cake sitting on the counter. “Y/n… I’m… I-I didn’t realize…” He stammered, unsure of what to say or do. After all, there wasn’t much he could do now. “It’s fine.” You mumbled out, forcing a smile as you looked up at him, hating to see just how upset and guilty he looked. Chan on the other hand, wasn’t having it.

“Look, I know it’s our first time meeting and Y/n told me not to make a scene, so I won’t. However, it’s not fine. You should know Y/n well enough to know that she doesn’t like to voice what’s upsetting her. You may be busy with work, or stressed, or whatever, but you ignoring her for your video games is something that shouldn’t be happening. Forgetting her birthday? Don’t you think that’s a little much? Do you see the problem? Y/n shouldn’t have to beg you for attention. You should be paying attention to your girlfriend regardless of what your work life is like and if you can’t handle that, you shouldn’t be stringing her along. She doesn’t deserve that and you know it.” His words were harsh and to the point, but he got across what he wanted to. Jisung gulped, biting on his lower lip as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You’re right.” Jisung mumbled, hanging his head. “I’ve gotten so absorbed in gaming because of stress from work, but that’s not an excuse. I should have been paying more attention to Y/n, so much more attention. I-I honestly can’t believe I forgot her birthday. I didn’t even realize just how bad I was getting… I just…” He sighed, stopping himself as he turned from Chan to look at you, taking a few steps closer before bending down slightly to look you in the eyes. “I’m so sorry Y/n. Really I am. I don’t have any excuses. How I’ve been treating you is wrong and I realize that. I promise I’ll change.” He spoke softly, searching your eyes as he apologized.

You could tell he was being genuine, seeing tears pricking at his eyes as he spoke to you. “You’d better or I’ll come right back here and take her home with me.” Chan muttered, causing you to roll your eyes at him. “Chan-” You chided, earning a sigh from him as he stood up, placing his hands in the air as a sign of defeat as he made his way into the kitchen. “Sorry, I’ll give you guys a minute.” It was clear he didn’t want to, but he would do it for you.

Sighing quietly once Chan had left the room, you looked to Jisung and patted the part of the couch Chan had just been sitting on, waiting for Jisung to take his place before sitting crisscrossed and facing him. “Ji… I’m not gonna lie and say I’m not upset. I am. I’m really upset. I had honestly thought that you would pull through and remember my birthday but you didn’t. It honestly felt like a stab to the heart. However, I’m also not going to say you’re completely at fault since I haven’t been honest and voiced how I was feeling to you. Keeping quiet and just letting things get worse was my own doing and I’m sorry I didn’t communicate with you.” You mumbled, Jisung furrowing his eyebrows and shaking his head as he reached forward, taking hold of both of your hands. “Hey, no. You’re not taking the blame for this. You shouldn’t be apologizing to me when you haven’t done anything wrong. You never once forgot anything important to me and I forgot your birthday. That’s huge and I’m gonna be apologizing for it forever. I should have realized what I was doing to you. That was my fault not yours, okay?”

You frowned, getting ready to disagree. “I’m not budging on this one. You have no reason to be apologizing to me. You know I’m right.” You didn’t, but you weren’t going to argue with him. Once Jisung saw you were done trying to blame yourself, he sighed, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead, the memory of the day you had first met in person coming back to you. “I’m really really sorry and I’m gonna make it up to you somehow, I promise.” You hummed, closing your eyes as Jisung pulled you into his chest. This was more contact than you had with him over the past few months.

“You’re making a lot of promises tonight Han Jisung.” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around him and looking up as he nodded in agreement. “I know, but I plan to keep them. I’m going to change and I’m going to make it up to you.” Smiling faintly, you hummed again, not wanting to say anything else as you rested against your boyfriend's chest, closing your eyes as you allowed yourself to relish in his presence. You hadn’t fully forgiven him, you were sure he knew that as well, but you were just glad the biggest thing was out of the way and you wouldn’t have to tiptoe around the issue anymore. The rest of it would be him regaining your trust and fulfilling his promises. “Happy birthday baby.” A quiet mumble left Jisung’s lips as he kissed the top of your head, earning a smile from you.

“Technically her birthday has already passed. It’s nearly two in the morning.” Chan suddenly cut in, causing both you and Jisung to turn and look at him, you with a glare and Jisung with a questioning gaze. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I see you two have made up for the most part so uh, seeing as I traveled two hours to get here, you both mind if I crash on the couch?” You opened your mouth to speak, but Jisung beat you to it. “Sure, it actually pulls out into a bed since my old roommate comes over sometimes and crashes. I can set it up for you.” His sudden agreement surprised you, but you decided not to question it, Chan nodding as he motioned towards the door.

“Cool. My stuff’s in my car so I’ll be back.” He then left without another word, Jisung watching him go before looking back at you. “Am I sleeping on the floor then?” He questioned, causing you to roll your eyes. “Ji, when have I ever made you sleep on the couch or anything like that?”

He smiled faintly, shrugging his shoulders as he lifted himself off the couch before helping you up. “Well technically the first day we met.” Shaking your head you went to the kitchen, putting the cake and everything else away as Jisung moved things around in the living room before pulling the couch out into a bed. “You were the one that didn’t let me sleep on the couch. I was going to, but you forced me to sleep on your bed.” As Jisung was fixing the pillows, Chan walked back into the apartment, this time locking the door behind him. He set his things down by the couch, giving Jisung a sideways look when their eyes met. “What-?” Jisung trailed off, looking down at the bed before looking back up at Chan.

“Blankets?” Jisung’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh yeah right, sorry.” He swiftly turned and walked down the hall towards the small closet that held clean blankets and pillows they kept aside. From the kitchen, you gave Chan a look that told him to knock it off, the male deciding to act like he had no idea what you were looking at him like that for. Jisung returned with blankets in hand, setting them down on the bed. “There, is this enough?” He questioned, Chan looking them over for a moment before simply nodding. “Yeah, that’s fine.” No thank you, no ounce of appreciation in his voice.

Jisung cleared his throat, nodding slowly before turning around and making his way into the kitchen where you were cleaning up and telling you that he’d do it. It took a bit of convincing, but eventually he had kicked you out of the kitchen, finishing up by himself. You huffed as you went over to Chan who was fixing his bed for the night. “You know you don’t have to be such an ass to him. He apologized.” You mumbled, keeping your voice quiet so Jisung didn’t hear. Chan sighed, straightening out the blankets before grabbing his bag and setting it on the bed, looking through his things. “I’m still pissed at him. He’s lucky I didn’t beat him into the ground. The only reason I didn’t is because you told me not to.”

“And I appreciate that, but he is still my boyfriend and I would like for you two to get along. I don’t want to have to play mediator any time you two are around each other.” There was silence for a moment before Chan sighed, nodding in agreement. “Fine. I’ll tone it down.” Smiling, you gave him a small hug, “Thank you.” You peeped, him only groaning in acknowledgement.

“Where’s your bathroom so I can change?” You showed him to the bathroom before starting back down the hall towards the kitchen, only to meet Jisung halfway, him holding your gift from Chan in his arm, folded nicely. He lifted it, smiling sheepishly. “He’s really good with gifts huh? I know you’ve been eyeing this thing since the new line came out.” You were genuinely surprised he had known that since he had been so preoccupied the last few months. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he seemed to notice. “You leave your tabs open a lot on your laptop. When I wake up for work you usually leave it out, so I noticed that you were looking at it fairly often.” He explained, your eyes widening slightly. “Oh… I didn’t even realize.” You half-whispered, Jisung chuckling quietly.

“I’ll go put this up.” He smiled before brushing past you and into your room. Chan left the bathroom only moments after, changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants much like Jisung had been wearing as long as you’d been awake. “You should sleep. It’s late.” He spoke, causing you to nod before watching him make his way down the hall towards the living room. “Are you going to sleep?” You asked, knowing that he had issues sleeping, always had.

“I’m gonna try, but don’t let me keep you up. I’ll be fine out here, I’m a grown man you know.” He teased, earning a quiet laugh from you. “Okay, well thank you for everything tonight Chan. I really appreciate it.” Turning, he smiled, his signature dimple smile. “No need to thank me. I just expect you to travel two hours for my birthday now. I’ve set the bar high.”

Your playful banter went on for a while longer before you both said goodnight and you retired to your shared room with Jisung. Stepping inside you shut the door behind you, immediately noticing Jisung busy unplugging all of his gaming stuff. Your eyes widened, “Ji- This isn’t… I didn’t mean you had to-” You couldn’t even form words, Jisung turning to look back at you. “I know. I just think it would be best for me to stop completely for now. Get things back in order before I even think about introducing this back into my life. It got way out of hand and I don’t want that to happen again. So I’m prioritizing.”

“B-But that’s… don’t you think it’s too much?” Your voice was quiet, unsure as Jisung shook his head, unplugging one final cord and picking himself up off of the floor, dusting himself off. “No. Considering I’ve put you on the side burner for months now, I think it’s more than enough. Gaming will always be there, but I don’t want to lose you because of it.” Shifting uncomfortably, you picked at your fingers, unsure about the whole thing. Jisung walked over, pulling you into his arms and resting his head on top of yours. “I’m sure about this okay? So don’t worry about it.”

“Okay…” You trailed off, deciding that if it was Jisung’s decision, you didn’t have any reason to argue with him. “Okay. Well, how about we go to sleep, and since you’re off tomorrow, I can take tomorrow off, probably call in sick-- and we can go do something, just me and you? There’s a fashion show downtown I believe. You can wear your new present from Chan and you’ll be the best dressed person, along with the best looking. Then we can go out to eat, or before. Whatever you wanna do baby.” Smiling you relaxed in his grasp, “That sounds great Ji.”

[her-world-on-fire]

Kisses in the Corridor {Tim Drake x Reader}

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

Word Count: 3,604

Request: Could you please write a tim x reader fic where the reader is a superhero (I was thinking like Barry Allen’s kid and the new Kid Flash) and is also Tim’s s/o and maybe Bruce and/or the Flash catch them having sex? 💜

2s. “stop before someone sees!" & 4s. "ten? i only need five."

WARNING NSFW MATURE CONTENT 18+ Tim and reader are 18

I WOKE up to the sound of a loud buzzing. I moved away from Tim’s grip and reached on the nightstand for my phone. I looked back at Tim, he held the same peaceful expression. I squinted at the caller ID and immediately sat up. I tried to be as gentle as possible, not to wake Tim. He was normally a very light sleeper, but he was sleep deprived. I pushed the blankets off and moved out of the room. I gently opened the door and snuck out into the hallway. I looked down at the caller ID once more to be sure before I answered.

DAD

“Dad? It’s 3am, what’s going on?” I whispered, I heard a rustling in the background. There was some kind of conflict, but I couldn’t quite make it out. After a few moments there was silence, then a heavy sigh.“I need your help.”

“What’s going on?” I moved down the hall trying my best to be quiet. “I’m going to send you some files. I need you to get Tim to decrypt them.”

“Okay send them to me and I’ll have him look at them as soon as he wakes up.” I heard a pause from the other side of the line. “When he-” He paused. “He’s with you right now?” I hadn’t exactly mentioned that I had moved in with him. As far as he knew I was still staying with in the house with the others. I faked a yawn. “I gotta go dad, love you.”

I quickly hung up and moved back into the bedroom. I got back into bed and Tim shifted slightly. I moved closer and he put his arm around me again.

I woke up and found Tim looking up at the ceiling. “Did you sleep okay? I noticed you got out of bed last night.” He turned to me, and I sighed. “Sorry I thought I was being quiet.” He chuckled, “Work hazard. Don’t worry about it.” I sat up and grabbed my phone. “Well it was my dad.” He squinted his eyes. “Why did he call you at 3am?”

“He wanted me to send you some files he needs decrypted.” I handed him my phone and showed him the files. He hummed and sat up. “I’m sorry I know you just finished your project-” He shook his head and get out of bed. “I really don’t mind. I’m sure your father wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.” Tim grabbed his laptop and connected my phone. We moved into the bathroom and got started on our morning routines.

Tim’s was straight forward, he wanted to brush his teeth and get to work. I on the other hand had a few steps. I tried to make Tim do them with me as much as I could. “Come here.” I grabbed his face and massaged a gentle cleanser. Wearing masks almost every night didn’t work wonders for out skin. He waited patiently until I was done. I applied some moisturizer, “All done.”

He smiled and pulled me in for a kiss. “I’ll get the coffee started.”

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

 Tim spent most of the day working on the files. When it was time to leave for patrol I had to pry him from the computer. “It’s time already?” I nodded and moved to get up. He stretched and then looked around.

I held out his suit and he sighed in relief. “What would I do without you?” He pulled his shirt over his head. My eyes raked over his toned chest. He had come a long way. He used to be lanky, but he had put on a lot more muscle in the past two years. Whatever shape he was in, I loved him.

Truth be told I was still getting used to his chiseled features. I gave him once last glance. “If I stay here any longer we’re going to be late.” I handed him his suit and moved out of the room. I grabbed my phone and noticed a missed call.

DAD: I’ll be by Friday afternoon, Bruce needs me to speak at his proposal. Looking forward to talking to Tim.

As if Tim didn’t have enough on his plate. I still had another 3 days to prepare Tim. I decided to tell him tomorrow. I put my phone down and Tim emerged from the bedroom. We met Dick at the coordinates he gave us. Dick left for the night leaving the two of us in charge. Tim had wired the police scanners to our headsets. The night moved slowly.

That was until the 3rd hour.

“10-44. Any units between 4th street and Palmdale?” Tim and I exchanged looks, stolen vehicle. We were only a few minutes out. Tim used his grapple, seeing as we were nearby. I got there a few minutes before him. “How bad is it?” The scanners had grown more chaotic. This wasn’t a normal stolen vehicle situation. We learned that there were children inside the car when it was taken. On top of it all, the driver was intoxicated. “Can you send out an alert and clear the next two blocks?”

“Done.”

I kept up with the vehicle, doing my best to move civilians out of the path. With the alert Tim had sent out. I was going to get inside the vehicle and stop the driver. “He’s approaching a construction site. You’re going in blind, the city hasn’t updated the maps.”

“Send an ambulance, and make sure the police don’t go into construction.”

“Y/N-” Tim’s voice said sternly. He was too far behind to do anything. “Be careful.”

“Always am.” Now that there were no civilians in the way, I was going to have to get the children out first. He was nearing the end of the map. I moved in and saw two children in the backseat. I needed to take them one by one. It was safer, their bodies weren’t meant to undergo high velocities. I needed to protected them from whiplash.

The first child was a beautiful chocolate haired boy. “Okay, where are you Tim?”

“Magnolia.” He replied immediately. I took the boy and ran him to Tim. By time his older brother blinked I was back. I left them both with Tim and rushed back to the driver. By now he knew that something was going on. He sped up. “What are you doing?” Tim’s worried voice came over the headset. “They’re safe.”

“He could get away.” I used every ounce of my stamina to catch up. I caught up and moved inside the car. I tried to take control, but he wasn’t giving up. The site was less than a mile away. As it grew closer, I saw it was the outline of a building.

If he breached the gates he wouldn’t have time to stop. He would drive through the building’s foundation, which wasn’t secure. It would crumble onto of us. His hand moved to the gun he had by his side. He slammed the gun into the side of my head. I felt the warmth trickling down the side of my face. I threw a punch and felt it connect. He fired a shot and moved my head back. He missed. I lifted my head back up and took the gun. and tossed it in the back seat. I looked up, it was too late. We were almost inside the building.

Tim was screaming in my headset. He heard the gunshot. I opened the door and pulled the driver out. I looked in front of us, the building slowly started to crumble. There was still a chance. There was a small opening where the building hadn’t caved in yet.

I had to make a choice. I needed to risk taking him and him slowing me down. Or I could leave him and get out, guaranteed. I had a fraction of a second to decide. I took one look at him and decided to risk it. I held on too him and used all my strength to reach the opening. I was exhausted. Just catching up to him when he was miles ahead had taken it out of me. Now I was bleeding, and drained. 

I thought about Tim. Memories of us flashed inside my head. I mustered enough strength to run. I threw the man out and then jumped out of the opening. On impact, I knew something wasn’t okay. I had landed on my shoulder. “Tim.”

He was just outside the gates.

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

Luckily my body worked hard to fix the broken bone. Being a speedster came with its perks. Fast metabolism, and healing. By the time Bruce’s proposal came around, my wounds were almost completely healed.

“Are you sure you want to go?” Tim asked once more, hands on either side of my face. “I’m fine Tim. I promise. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He sighed, he had seen the x- rays. Physically I was fine. “Fine but if you start to feel even just a headache, we’re coming back.” I nodded and he looked over my face again.

I stuck out my hand and he placed a kiss on it before intertwining our fingers.

We arrived right on time. Tim’s part of Bruce’s proposal was one of the first points. He had to go set up in Bruce’s office. “I’ll be right back.” He took his files and rushed up to the office. I joined Dick, Jason and Damien in the lounge. “Hello, boys.”

They looked up and Dick’s eyebrow’s knitted together. “Are you even supposed to be out of bed?” I laughed, “Dick it was just my shoulder. I’m fine.” Damian snickered at his brother. Dick looked at between his brothers. Jason had a smirk on his face. “What?”

“Speedster. They heal 20 times faster than us.”

“He got promoted to lead of the biotech department of Wayne Enterprises a few weeks ago.”

The boys bickered. My eyes scanned the room for my father. He was incredibly hard to miss. “I’ll be back.” The boys didn’t even turn in my direction. I walked to the other side of the lounge. He turned to me and then patted his college on the shoulder. He approached me, a big smile on his face. “Hey dad.” He opened his arms and pulled me in for a tight hug. I groaned, “Little too hard.” I gasped and he let go. “Sorry, I just haven’t seen you much.”

“I know. I’m sorry I’ve been meaning to visit.” He nodded and looked around. “Where’s Tim?” I pointed to Bruce’s office. “He’s setting up.” My father raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know he was part of the presentation.”

“Wow. That’s fantastic.” He genuinely was impressed. After all he had a background in bio medicine. He knew how hard the work was. “We’ll I’d love to talk to him about it.” I laughed, of course he did. “You can come by our place after and I’m sure he’d talk your ear off.” He turned to me. His eyes narrowing.

Realization struck, and I cursed internally. Eventually I was going to have to tell him, but I was hoping back at home. In front of family and witnesses. Before he could say anything. There was an announcement on the overhead speaker. We were ushered as the presentations were about to begin.

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

Tim did fantastic as expected. He kept the crowd engages and said everything perfectly. He approached me as he walked off of the stage. I clapped along with the crowd. He greeted me with a kiss. “You did amazing Tim.” We walked to the back of the room. He didn’t want to interrupt anyone. He gestured for the door. He took my hand and I followed after him. We closed the door behind us and stood in the corridor. Tim let out a deep breath.

He still wasn’t used to speaking in crowds, and this was a lot larger than he was used to. “Are you alright?” He nodded, “I’m glad it’s over.” He moved to take off his tuxedo jacket. I watched as his arms contracted. He slowly rolled up his sleeves, revealing his muscular arms.

He put his jacket over his arm and looked over at me. A small grin on his face. “What?” I shook my head and sighed. “How much longer is this?” He looked at the clock. “We still have another hour.” I looked up at him. His piercing blue eyes were fixated on mine. His hair wast neatly parted down the middle, every strand perfectly combed in place. He moved closer and put his hand over the wall near my head. “What’s got you all flustered Y/N?”

I took a deep breath, my eyes fixated on his lips. “You, Drake.” He smirked and pressed his lips against mine.

Barry looked around the room, and noticed the absence of Y/N and Tim. He turned to Bruce. “Where are they?” Bruce looked around. No sigh of them. He looked at the cameras on his watch. He didn’t see them. Bruce shook his head. The two got up and moved into the lounge. Damian, Jason and Dick were there for security. He knew no one would get past them unnoticed.

“Have either of you seen Y/N and Tim?” Bruce asked. Dick and Jason looked at each other and then shrugged. Bruce sighed, so much for security.

“I think I saw them go-” Damian spoke nonchalantly. He looked in front of him, behind Bruce and Barry Dick and Jason were trying to tell him something. Quite frankly, they looked like idiots. They were shaking their heads violently waving their arms back and forth. Damien squinted as he tried to read the boys lips. Dick mouthed something he couldn’t quite make out. Bruce and Barry exchanged looks, they turned around and saw Dick and Jason conversing casually.

“Damian?” Jason motioned for him to keep his lips zipped. A smirk grew on Damian's face. He wanted to see it all play out.

Dick and Jason tried. They weren’t quite sure what they were up to but they knew it was nothing good. They tried to stay in Tim’s good graces, in the blink of an eye Tim could hack everything they owned. As for Y/N, they knew there would be no escaping. Y/N could catch up to them anywhere. In short, they didn’t want to piss either of them off.

They had noticed their brother couldn’t keep his hands off of his date. They were two hyperactive teenagers, it didn’t take rocket science to figure it out. They watched as Damian’s smirk grew. He hadn’t figured it out but he knew it would get Tim in trouble and that was enough for him. “They went down the hall and up the elevator.” Bruce gave a short nod and the two went off.

“Well, we tried.” Jason shrugged, and took a swing of his drink. He wasn’t going to deny that watching Tim get his ass kicked by a speedster wasn’t funny. “Should’ve choked the little bastard.” Dick sighed, the two could only wait.

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

“Tim.” I let out a shaky breath, trying my hardest to keep quiet. “Stop before someone sees!" We were in a building full of people, at any moment someone could walk down the corridor. Tim chuckled against my neck, “You really want me to stop?” I bit my lip, he was right. I didn’t want him to stop. I was just worried about being caught. “The next presentation starts in 10 minutes.”

"Ten? I only need five."

At this point I threw all common sense out of the window. I took his hand and we were in his office in seconds. I had closed the door behind us. Tim smirked, “In my office? You little-” I interrupted him by kissing him. My hands moved from his hair and down to his suit. I quickly unbuttoned his dress shirt, and my hands moved to unbuckle his belt.

Without breaking the kiss i discarded his dress shirt on the floor. His hands moved to remove my clothing. We broke away for a moment to catch our breaths. He picked me up and moved us to the couch. His lips reconnected to mine once more. I straddled his waist and moved against him for friction. My hands moved back down to the waistband of his boxers. I pulled them down and ran my hands up and down his length.

He let out a groan. “Fuck.” He got rid of the rest of my clothes throwing them across his office. I didn’t waste time in scolding him. I lowered myself down onto his length. We both let out a sigh, all of our pent up frustrations released. Tim’s hands moved back to my waist. He lifted me and then slammed me back down onto himself. I bit my lip, trying to stay quiet. His lips moved down to my neck, leaving wet kisses before moving to whisper in my ear. “They’re all down stairs, I want to hear you.”

Tim loved hearing vocalization, he couldn’t get enough. He knew every part of my body. He knew exactly what to do to get what he wanted. He speed up, and hit just the right spot. I gave in. “Oh god.” We were both breathing heavily. Sounds of pleasure overtook the room. Our bodies moved against each other hungrily. Tim smirked as he moved back to my neck. He moved right to my sweet spot. “Fuck,Tim.”

I dug my nails into his shoulders, leaving small red lines, He pulled away from my neck, satisfied by his work. His lips moved back to mine and speed up again. I felt a growing knot in my stomach each time he moved in and out. Sensing I was close he sat up and took control. He thrusted up into me, over and over, and I grew louder each time. “Please, Tim.” I could feel his thrusts becoming more sloppy, he was close. My orgasm came soon after, my body gave out. I shook against him. He helped me ride out my high. He came and I felt his warmth spread in my core.

“Y/N are you okay-” The door burst open, in the heat of the moment I had forgotten to lock it. Luckily Tim reached for his shirt. He quickly used it to cover me. “I thought you were hurt or dear god.” Barry looked at the ceiling, trying to avert his gaze.

“TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE!” Bruce’s voice echoed off the walls. Surely the boys down stairs were snickering. “In your office of all places.” He rubbed his hand across his face. Neither of us knew what to say. “Get dressed. Now.” Bruce said sternly before slamming Tim’s office door.

We moved off of each other and tried to find our clothes. Of course Tim in desperation had scattered my clothes. I was kind enough to leave his nicely by the couch. We quickly got dressed and opened the door. Bruce crossed his arms over his chest. Barry glared at Tim.

“Hey dad.” I smiled nervously, he sighed deeply. “I don’t even know where to start. I’m so-”

“Did you finish uploading the files before you-” Bruce couldn’t finish the sentence, Tim pulled the hard drive out his pocket and handed it over. “Go.” He waved us off and I watched as he placed a hand on my father’s chest. I motioned for Tim to go, and I approached my father. Bruce looked between us and nodded.

“I’m sorry.” He nodded, a silence washed over us. Neither of us sure what to say. Finally, he broke the silence. “So, you really love him?” I looked back at Tim who was having his talk with Bruce. I smiled and nodded. “I really do.” It gave Barry comfort. He had seen the strength of the connection when he first met Tim a year ago. He knew that they were growing up, it was inevitable. After all, he was a teenager once. He knew what it was like to be deeply in love. For now, all he could do was try and forget this ever happened. Tim approached us. I looked back and forth between the two. For a long moment there was just silence. The two held eye contact. “I expect to see you during the holidays Timothy.” Tim nodded, “Of course sir.”

We went back down stairs. Damian snickered, and Tim shot a glare at his brothers. Dick and Jason pointed to their youngest brother. “If either of you breathe a word...” Tim trailed off, his threat looming. His older brothers nodded. “And you,” He turned to Damian. “I’ll end you.” I placed my hand on Tim’s chest. He backed away and stood up straight. “You know he-”

“Thank you for the drive, you helped save a lot of people.” And with that he was off. Tim breathed a sigh of relief, “I thought he was going to kill me.”

“I know. In time, let’s just get through this.” Tim sighed, “Fine.”

MASTERLIST

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[parkerslatte]

Years Passed [Chapter Four]

Spencer reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Part Summary: Y/N spends time with Harper on her birthday and the day after her and Spencer enjoy a cosy evening in.

previous chapter / next chapter

Years Passed Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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***

CHAPTER FOUR: GENTLE CONVERSATIONS

The following weeks were less lonely for Y/N. Whenever Harper was at school, Y/N was either painting or meeting Spencer in the same coffee shop where they had their first meeting. Whenever the two conversed, it felt as if they were in their early twenties again, everything was just natural. Even when it was the anniversary of Owen’s death, Spencer helped her through it. He knew that Y/N would be alone so he invited her to go out for coffee. Although Y/N decided to spend the day with her parents when Harper was at school, she appreciated Spencer’s gesture immensely. 

By the time Harper’s birthday rolled around, Y/N was feeling a lot better. With the help of Spencer and her family, she managed to get through the anniversary of Owens’ death without a single tear shed. Y/N was extremely grateful for this, never did she want to be down on Harper’s birthday and luckily this year she never had to force a smile once. 

When Harper ran into Y/N’s room the morning of her birthday, she was greeted to the sight of an empty bed causing a frown to appear on the young girl’s face. 

“Mum?” She yelled out.

“Come to the living room sweetheart.” Y/N called out. 

Harper immediately left Y/N’s room and ran to the living room. A smile stretched across the young girl’s face at the sight. 

“Happy Birthday!” Everyone chorused.

Y/N was standing at the front of the group with a wide smile on her face. Harper ran over to her mother and wrapped her arms around her torso. Leaning her head down, Y/N pressed a kiss to the top of Harper’s head.

“Happy birthday sweet girl,” Y/N mumbled just so Harper could hear it, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Harper muttered back, breaking away from the hug so she could give hugs to everyone else in the room.

As the day progressed and Harper began opening all of her birthday presents, they mainly consisted of different art supplies from her family members, knowing that the little girl had already began to follow in her mothers footsteps. As Y/N watched her daughter opening all of her presents she only wished that one person could be there.

Despite Y/N moving on from Owen a few years ago, she still longed for him to be there for Harper’s birthday. Y/N remembered when Owen didn’t come back from the hospital the night he died. Y/N remembered the constant screaming when Harper must’ve realised that her father wasn’t coming back. She was still incredibly young and didn’t understand much but she was still smart enough to know that her dad was no longer around. 

“Y/N!” Her mother said, snapping her out of her daydream. 

“What?” Y/N asked, momentarily confused.

“I said that me and your father should be on our way,” Her mother said, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m perfectly fine.” Y/N replied.

The look her mother sent back was one of disbelief, “Come with me, I’m sure your father can keep Harper entertained for a bit.”

Y/N followed her mother through to the kitchen where they sat down around the dining table.

“So tell me what’s wrong?” her mother said.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Y/N said.

“I haven’t been your mother for thirty-four years for nothing,” Her mother said, “I know when you lie to me.”

Y/N let out a small sigh, “I was just thinking about Owen, I just wish he was here to see Harper grow up.” 

Her mother reached across the table and gently took Y/N’s hand in her own, “If you ever need to talk to me, I’m always a phone call away.”

Y/N shook her head, “I’ll be okay, it’s just really this time of year. Although this year has been better, with you helping me through it, and Melanie, and Spencer-”

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” Her mother cut her off.

Y/N nodded in confirmation, “Yeah, he came to question me about my neighbour because she was kidnapped,” Y/N began to explain, “He called me to tell me that she was okay and I guess that we’ve just been hanging out.”

“I didn’t know he still worked for the FBI.” her mother said.

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, thirteen years.”

There was a small pause before her mother’s next comment, “Is he still attractive?”

“Mom!” Y/N exclaimed.

“What? I’m only asking.” Her mother put her hands up in defense.

“I mean I suppose…” Y/N trailed off.

“So that means yes.” 

“No it does not!”

“Again, I’ve been your mother for thirty-four years, I know when you lie,” Her mother said, “I always liked Spencer.”

“Well you didn’t like him after we broke up and I told you the reason.” Y/N said.

“Yeah but that only lasted a few weeks,” Her mother said, “I missed our weekly reading sessions after that.”

Y/N shook her head in amusement, “Can we stop talking about my ex-boyfriend please?”

“You’re the one who mentioned him.” Her mother said as they stood up and began a slow walk back into the living room.

“I mentioned him briefly, you’re the one who cut me off and started the conversation about him.” Y/N defended herself with a small chuckle.

Her mother laughed with her before reaching out and gently holding her elbow, keeping Y/N in place, “But in all seriousness Y/N, please talk to me, Melanie or even Spencer if you begin to feel down.”

“I will, I promise you that.”

***

After Y/N and Harper bid goodbye to Y/N’s mother and father, the two flopped down on the couch. Harper rested her head against Y/N’s shoulder while Y/N rested her’s on top of Harper’s. 

“Mum?” Harper spoke up.

“Yeah?” 

“You didn’t get me a present.” Harper said.

“How do you know that I didn’t?” Y/N questioned.

“Because I didn’t open a present from you.” Harper replied.

“That’s because it’s not out here, it’s in my closet,” Y/N said, “It’s quite big so I didn’t want to bring it out. Hiding it in my room was more than enough trouble.”

“Can I open it now?” Harper questioned.

“I suppose.” Y/N said with a smile as Harper jumped up from the couch, practically dragging Y/N up with her.

As they entered Y/N told Harper to sit on the bed and close her eyes, “Now it isn’t exactly wrapped because I had no clue how to wrap it and I thought it would come in a box and it didn’t.”

Y/N opened her closet revealing her present to Harper, “You can open your eyes now.”

Harper opened her eyes and gasped once she saw what the present was, “Are you serious?”

“I mean it’s here isn’t it?” Y/N said with a chuckle.

“Thank you!” Harper said, throwing her arms around Y/N. 

The present Y/N bought for Harper was an easel just like hers. Harper had always wanted one like Y/N but she always refused, deeming the easel too expensive for Harper to have her own. However a couple of weeks ago Y/N found the same one she uses at a discounted price so she had to buy it.

“I have no idea where we can put it though,” Y/N said, sitting down on her bed while Harper looked at the easel, “But I was thinking that as we only use the spare room for storage, we can clean it out and make it into our own little art studio.”

Harper gasped, “Can we?”

“If you want,” Y/N said, “We can start cleaning it out tomorrow if you want. We can get a good chunk of it done before you go to Melanie and Toby’s for a sleepover.”

Harper jumped on the bed and tackled Y/N in a hug. A wide smile spread across Y/N’s features as the two lay there. Y/N was so happy to have Harper in her life.

***

The following day, her and Harper were in comfy clothes as they began to sort through everything in the spare room, filtering through what was junk and what wasn’t. There was a lot of junk. 

“Can we keep this?” Harper questions.

“What are you going to do with a light up lightsaber that doesn’t even light up?” Y/N questions.

“I don’t know.” Harper says.

“Exactly, put it in the trash pile.” Y/N says before her phone starts to ring.

“I’m just going to take this call, don’t sneak anything out of the trash pile when I’m gone.” Y/N warned.

As she walked out of the room and into her living room, she checked the caller ID. It was Spencer. She answered the call with no hesitation.

“Hey Spence.” Y/N said happily.

“Hey.” Spencer greeted and Y/N could practically hear the smile on his face.

“So what’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to go and get coffee? We haven’t seen each other for a few days so I thought we could meet up.” Spencer asked, although Y/N could hear the hesitation in his voice.

“Oh, I’m sorry Spence but I’m with Harper right now.” Y/N said.

“Oh of course, don’t worry about it then, maybe we can meet up another time.” Spencer said.

Y/N thought for a second. She did want to see Spencer. The last time she had seen him was about a week ago because he was working on a case out of state. They two exchanged a few phone calls and texts but that was the only communication they had. 

“Maybe we don’t have to go for coffee,” Y/N said, “Harper is being picked up to go to a sleepover at six so maybe we can go and get dinner or something like that?”

“That sounds great,” Spencer said, the happiness evident in his tone once again, “What time?”

“Well it depends on what you want for dinner,” Y/N said, “We could go to a restaurant, or you could maybe come here and we can order in and watch a movie?”

“I like the latter option.” Spencer said.

Y/N smiled, “So do I. That means we can have a relaxing evening in.”

“It’s a date,” Spencer said, “Um, I didn’t mean like a date, I meant it like two friends hanging out.” The panic in his voice only increased.

“I’ll see you later Spencer.” Y/N said with a chuckle.

“I’ll see you too Y/N.” Spencer said before Y/N hung up the phone, a small smile creeping onto her face.

***

After Y/N bid goodbye to Harper for the night she couldn’t help herself but look down at her appearance. She was wearing paint stained clothes and her hair was a mess. Looking at the clock on her wall, Spencer would be arriving in less than an hour. Y/N didn’t know why but she wanted to make herself look at least a little presentable. Flipping through her wardrobe she came across a dress that she had only worn a couple of times but it was the most comfortable dress she had probably ever worn in her life.

After getting changed to make herself look presentable, she scans the house. It wasn’t necessarily messy, more of organised clutter. The minimal bit of tidying she did before Spencer arrived was pushing her easel back towards the wall so it was out of the way and re arranged the pillows on the couch so it looked comfortable and inviting. 

As soon as Y/N placed the final pillow there was a knock on her door. Straightening out her dress, she headed over to the door. She smiled as she opened it and she was greeted by the smiling face of Spencer Reid. He looked a lot more casual than she had seen him whenever they met up. He was simply wearing a black sweater and jeans and a jacket on top - something she didn’t think she had ever seen on him.

“Hi,” Y/N greeted as he stepped aside to allow him into her house, “Make yourself at home. I’m sorry about the clutter, I tidied up the best I could.”

“It’s fine, my apartment is probably worse.” Spencer said, taking a seat on the couch.

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted for dinner so I held off on ordering until you got here,” Y/N said taking a seat next to him on the couch, “I was thinking chinese if that’s something you wanted?”

“It’s perfectly fine with me.” Spencer replied.

After ordering, the two put  a movie on while they waited for the food to turn up. As they were sat on the couch Y/N couldn't help but find everything about the situation familiar.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Y/N spoke up, turning her attention away from the movie.

“What?” Spencer questioned.

“Every date night we ever had when we first started dating because neither of us had any money.” Y/N said.

Spencer chuckled, “Yeah it does. And I swear that we watched the same three movies over and over again.”

“That’s only because you were picky.” Y/N said, smiling.

Spencer placed his hand over his chest, looking offended, “I was not!”

“You so were!” Y/N said, “You would pick out every inconsistency and explain why certain things wouldn’t work or how they didn’t make sense.”

“That’s because they didn’t make sense,” Spencer said, “I was only pointing out something that should’ve been pointed out while making the movie.”

Y/N sighed and shook her head playfully, “You sure were a romantic weren’t you Spencer Reid.”

Spencer blushed slightly as there was a knock at the door. Y/N got up to get the food and handed the delivery person the money, plus some extra as a tip. 

“I’ll pay you back for my food.” Spencer said.

Y/N waved him off, “No you don’t have to,” Y/N said, “This just means that next time dinner’s on you.” 

Placing the food down on the coffee table in front of the couch, Y/N stood back up, “let me just go and get something, I’ll be back in a moment.”

Heading into her kitchen, she grabbed two wine glasses out of the cupboard and a bottle of wine. As she made her way back into the living room, Spencer had sorted their food out so it was all set out in front of them on the coffee table.

“So we didn’t order drinks but I have a bottle of wine and two glasses,” Y/N says, “If you don’t want wine I can get you something else.”

“Wine is perfectly fine.” Spencer said as Y/N handed him a glass. 

As she poured the two glasses, she couldn’t help but begin to feel like this was becoming more and more of a date. From the way they were positioned on the couch, every time either of them moved their legs would brush against one another.

“Did you know that Back to the Future was almost not called Back to the future?” Spencer spoke up.

“What was it nearly called?” Y/N asked out of genuine interest.

“Spaceman from Pluto.” Spencer answered.

Y/N let out a loud laugh, “That cannot be true!”

“Look it up.” Spencer said

“I don’t think I need to, you always know the weirdest facts,” Y/N said, “And I love it when you share them.”

Spencer smiled slightly while taking a sip of his wine, “I’m glad you like to listen, usually people tell me to stop.”

“I don’t see why,” Y/N said, “I love hearing you ramble on, I learn things while you talk about something you are excited about. It’s a win win situation really.”

Spencer smiled before he turned back to the television screen and continued watching the movie. 

*** 

Once all of their food was finished, the two remained on the couch as the credits to the movie played but neither of them made the move to stop it. Both of them were on their third glass of wine and they were feeling the effects of the alcohol they had consumed. Finishing off the remainder of her wine, Y/N slumped back against the couch.

During the night, Y/N and Spencer found themselves inching closer and closer to one another. So much so that the sides of their bodies were pressed up against one another. Tucking her legs underneath her, Y/N pressed her body further against Spencer’s as they sat in a comfortable silence on the couch. 

Y/N wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol acting or not but Spencer wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his side so her head now rested upon his chest. 

“Your sweater is really soft.” Y/N commented, giggling slightly.

“That’s why I wore it.” Spencer replied. 

“Where did you get it? I wanna get one.” Y/N said.

“I don’t know, I got it years ago.” Spencer said, his hand brushing lightly up and down her arm.

“I might just have to steal yours then.” Y/N said. 

“No,” Spencer protested, “It’s my favourite sweater.”

Y/N positioned her head so she could look at Spencer, “Then you should wear it more often, it looks really good on you.”

Spencer blushed at her compliment, “Really?”

“Really,” Y/N said, “You just look so cuddly in it.” She moved her arms so they were now wrapped around Spencer’s torso as she attempted to pull him even closer to her.

Spencer looked down at her with a soft smile on his face, “I missed you.”

“What?” Y/N asked.

“The first time we went out for coffee I realised how much I missed talking to you,” Spencer says, “It’s been thirteen years but it felt like we were both in our early twenties again.”

“I missed you too Spence,” Y/N said, “The first few months after I left I missed you so much and there were multiple times where I wanted to call you but I stopped myself. After I moved to England and met Owen I guess any type of feeling I had for you disappeared. But now, I’m glad that we’re friends again.”

“Me too,” Spencer said, lips brushing her forehead, “I’m glad you’re in my life again, this time I don’t plan on letting you leave too easily.”

“I wasn’t planning on leaving you again Spencer Reid,” Y/N said, “Once you become my friend, it’s hard to push me away.”

“Good, because I don’t want to push you away,” Spencer said, letting out a yawn, “But I should get home now.”

“No,” Y/N protested, “Stay here. It’s late anyway and I’m pretty sure we are both quite tipsy now so you shouldn’t go.”

“Okay,” Spencer said, giving in too easily, “Where can I sleep?”

“Well currently the guest room isn’t a guest room anymore and this couch is too small for you so you can take my bed.” Y/N said.

“No,” Spencer said, “I’ll take the couch.”

“No,” Y/N said, “You’re a guest, take my bed.”

“I forgot how stubborn you can be.” Spencer mumbled.

“Why don’t we both take my bed?” Y/N offered.

“Only if you don’t mind.” Spencer says.

“Of course I don’t,” Y/N said, “It can be like a sleepover. Harper’s at a sleepover now you’re sleeping over.”

Spencer let out a quiet laugh before the two stood up from the couch. He followed Y/N through to her bedroom as she immediately began to strip off her dress which made Spencer evert his eyes immediately.

Y/N didn’t know where her sudden confidence came from but she turned around to Spencer, “This is nothing you’ve never seen before.” She joked. 

Getting changed into a large t-shirt, Y/N crawled into her bed. Spencer still sat on the edge looking around hesitantly.

“Well are you going to lie down or not?” Y/N questioned, “And are you seriously going to sleep in jeans.”

“I don’t have anything else.” Spencer said.

“Are you wearing boxers?” Y/N asked.

“Yes.”

“Good enough.”

“Are you sure that you’ll be comfortable with that?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah it's fine Spencer,” Y/N said, “No take your damn jeans off and join me in bed because I want to feel your sweater again.”

Spencer smiled before taking off his jeans and getting into bed next to Y/N, something that seemed so familiar yet so distant. As soon as he lied down, Y/N immediately cuddled up to him. 

“This is okay right?” Y/N asked.

“It's perfectly fine.” Spencer mumbled, getting comfortable with Y/N in his arms.

“Goodnight Spence.” 

“Goodnight Y/N.”

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[winterscaptain]

berry hill.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: i am so excited to share this one with you. the tropes are PACKED in here, and it was a blast to write. i also realized some time ago that i keep forgetting summaries on my works, so i’m gonna do my best to add those from now on. as always, let me know if there are any mistakes in here! thanks to @writefasttalkevenfaster for helping me today <3  intended for the ‘a joyful future universe,’ but does not require context. takes place in 2011, early season six, prior to the valhalla arc.  words: 12k warnings: language, some vague mention of aaron’s anatomy, alcohol use, when i say slow burn i mean s l o w burn. 

summary: "...and there was only one bed."  - old fanfiction proverb

waldosia (part 2) | absence (part 3) | mean it (part 4)

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed! updated: january 5th, 2021

It’s way too late and you know it, but Jack is still on his annual winter vacation with Aunt Jess and the rest of the Brooks clan, so there’s simply no incentive to leave. You’re with Hotch at his desk, kicked back like you own the place, while he sits back in his chair with his hands laced behind his head.

The Montana case wrapped up neatly, and any remaining or incoming paperwork this week is light. Though it is admittedly weird without JJ, Seaver seems to be settling in alright. You’re glad that the team decided to take a chance on her like they did with you. 

“What do you mean he drew on the wall?” You say through a laugh, popping a grape in your mouth. “Are we talking like a crayon mark here and there or a full-on mural.”

“Multi-media mural - glue, paper mache, markers, crayons, you name it and it was there.” He laughs and he takes a grape from your bowl, kicking his feet up on the desk - mirroring you. “I have no idea how he managed it. I was in the house the whole time.”

“Oh my God, he’s a terror!” Before Aaron can agree, your phone starts ringing. You pick it up, smiling as you see the caller ID. 

“Hey Dean!” You stand and give Aaron a ‘sorry, just a second’ finger and step out of the office, leaving the door open behind you. You stay where Aaron can see you, leaning on the rail next to the stairs. You don’t really mean to stay within his eyeline, but it’s habit at this point. 

“Hey babe, I hope I’m not calling too late.” 

“Oh not at all. I’m still in the office with Hotch getting some work done.” 

You catch Hotch’s eye and he mouths ‘Work?’ and you shrug as if to say ‘It’s a loose term.’ He rolls his eyes and steals another one of your grapes. 

“Ah, I see. Late-night work with the hot boss-man.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. “So what’s up?”

He sighs, and you already know what’s coming before he says it. “Something came up at work and I won’t be able to make it to the wedding next week. We’re closing on this huge property in Georgetown and it’s really big for the firm and -“

“It’s okay. I get work stuff, trust me.” And you do. It just fucking sucks. 

“I’m so so sorry to leave you hanging. I know it’s going to be super rough. Maybe one of your work friends can go with you? Maybe boss man? His name’s Aaron, right? Hopscotch or something?” His humor doesn’t make you feel any better, but you promise to keep ‘Hopscotch’ for later.  

You tip your head up to stare at the ceiling and will the tears away from your eyes, blinking them back. “Yeah, I’ll figure it out. None of them knew to ask off work, so if we have a case I’ll be on my own regardless.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

Two tears fall out of the corner of your eyes, and you turn around, wiping them away. “It’s okay.” 

“I’ll call you day-of to check in, okay?”

Hotch watches you carefully, doing your best to hide your tears from him. Bad news, certainly, but he wishes you wouldn’t hide from him like you do. Or rather, he wishes you wouldn’t try to hide from him like you do. 

He can’t hear the entire conversation, obviously, but he resolves to do what he can to return at least a little of the care you always show him without hesitation, 

“Okay.” You heave an uneven sigh. “I’ll talk to you then... Really - don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” You hang up before he can respond and rest your forearms on the railing. You let your head hang for a second, collecting yourself before you have to face Hotch again. 

You take a deep breath and turn, sitting across from him again. Attempting to restore your good spirits, you kick your feet back up and have another grape. 

Hotch’s voice is quiet. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” but your voice breaks. You clear your throat and blink a few more times. 

You can feel him squint at you. “What’s wrong?” 

“Oh, you know.” You sniff, and gesture vaguely as you continue. “My best friend from college was supposed to be my date to a friend’s wedding next week, and the friend getting married also happens to be someone I dated in college so I was really hoping Dean could come with me, and now…” You trail off, realizing you’re rambling.

He’s quiet for a little while, and you shove some more grapes in your mouth to make up for the silence. You know each other so well, but it still feels a little weird to explicitly talk about your personal life in the office. Sure, you spend a fair few weekends together with Jack, but the whole thing is a little embarrassing - and you’re not sure if the worst part is admitting you have an ex-boyfriend from college or you now have to go stag to his wedding. 

“Do you want someone to go with you?” He watches you chew on your lower lip. A long time ago, he decided there was nothing worse than seeing you upset. 

This is the least you can do, Hotchner. First personal weekend in nearly four years, you can at least do what you can to make it suck less. He reasons with himself, but he can’t help the sly thought that sneaks in on the tail end. Being a backup is better than being nothing at all. 

That’s enough. 

You scoff. “Well, yeah. Obviously.” 

He smiles a little, knowing you completely missed his point. “If you wanted…” He clears his throat and looks out the window, and you reply before he can continue. 

“Oh, God, Hotch.” You cover your face with your hands. “Please don’t feel like I’m trying to guilt you into anything. I’ll be fine.” You try to laugh it off, but can’t hide the anxiety in your voice. 

His laugh warms you. “You’re not guilting me into anything. I’m offering.” 

You remove your hands from your face and look at him. There’s an earnest sort of kindness in his eyes, and you find yourself a little short of breath. “Really?”

“Really. I can get the weekend off - things are pretty slow around here. Where is it?” You had trouble reading his tone. Really, he’s just treading carefully. He doesn’t want you to feel pressured, or give away his own selfish motivations.

“It’s, ah,” you stutter for a second, getting your metaphorical feet back under you. “It’s down at Berry Hill Resort, right by the North Carolina border.” Your lip disappears between your teeth again. “It’s about a three and a half hour drive.” 

He opens his phone, and you know he’s checking the map. “It’d be easy enough if we left early and switched in Richmond. I’ll start, if you’d like.” 

You smile at him, wide and genuine. “Hotch, you’re the best.” 

+++

Hotch calls you up to his office, and you swing in, your hand gripping the doorframe. You bite back your greeting as you find him on the phone. 

He beckons you in and you step inside, closing the door behind you.

“...Thank you, sir. I’ll be sure to pass that along to the rest of the unit...You too, sir.” He hangs up and laces his fingers, addressing you. “Question.”

You sit, resting your elbows on his desk. “Answer.” 

“Funny.”

You smirk, and he continues. “I’m not sure if it matters to you, but I have an absurd number of ties. Color preference?”

A huff of laughter leaves you in disbelief. “You called me in here to ask whether or not I want to have a color scheme?”

“Yes,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “A united front, or at least a coordinated one, seems like the best strategy, right?”

+++

Aaron walks down from his office, his phone to his ear. You’re helping Ashley with a consult, walking her through your process just like Emily used to do with you. 

“Hotch usually likes to approach the profile starting with a demographic consideration, but I usually start from physical evidence and -”

A hand falls onto your shoulder, and you look up. “Yeah?”

He pulls the receiver away from his mouth. “Jack wants to talk to you.”

With a shake of your head and a fond smile for Hotch and an apologetic one for Ashley, you put the phone to your ear. “Hey, bud! How’s Grandpa’s house?”

“So fun,” Jack says, almost yelling into the phone. “Aunt Jess has let me play in the snow every day.”

You laugh. “I am so glad.” 

“Dad says you’re busy at work, but I miss you.” 

“Aw, bubba, I miss you, too. You’ll be home really soon, and when you get back we’ll go out to ice cream and you can tell me all about your visit.” You, for just a moment, forget where you are, and you lean back in your seat as if you’re leaning into Jack himself. “Does that sound okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I love you.” 

Your breath catches, and you keep our eyes firmly planted on your consult as you reply. “I love you too, bub. Here’s your dad.” Placing the phone in Hotch’s hand, you return your attention to Ashley and do your best not to acknowledge Aaron as he walks back up the stairs. “So, like I said, Hotch prefers to -”

“Hey.” Ashley stops you with a hand on your arm. “You’re really good at your job.” 

A confused smile pulls at your lips. There’s a question in your eyes, and she answers it. 

“Oh, I just...You’re a good teacher and a good friend, that’s all.” 

“Thanks, Seaver.”

+++

On a rare weeknight off, Emily and you gather at Penelope’s apartment. You’re all sitting on the floor, bottles of wine making an occasional rotation, and a pile of snacks on the floor taking up the space in the loose circle you’ve created. 

“You’re taking time off this weekend?” Penelope sounds almost insultingly surprised, as if the concept never occurred to her. 

You nod. “Yep. First time in four years, so I think I’m about due.” 

Emily laughs and asks. “Where are you going?” 

“I’ve been inexplicably invited to an ex-boyfriends wedding - he’s a friend from college and we were friends before we dated etc. etc.” You wave your hand as you speak, outlining the tedium of it all. “His mom loves me, and I suspect she was the one who added me to the list.” 

“Are you going with anyone? Penelope’s concern is touching. 

“Yeah. One of my college friends was supposed to be my date, but he bailed for a work thing.” All the girls roll their eyes and nod. They get it. “So, Ho - someone else - is going with me.” 

“Who?” Emily narrows her eyes and searches you. 

“Oh come on, profiling is against the rules.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay, sure.” 

“Spill it.” Penelope throws a goldfish cracker at you to emphasize her point. 

You take a deep, long-suffering breath, suddenly missing JJ and her powers of redirection. “Fine. Hotch is coming with me -” you intercept their eager questions “- only as a favor.” 

“That’s very...thoughtful of him.” Emily’s chin tips up suggestively, and you throw Penelope’s goldfish at her. “Who’s idea was that?”

There’s a moment here somewhere, where you realize you’ve just dug yourself a hole you’ll be hard-pressed to get out of. “He overheard Dean bail, and offered. I’m sure he’s just doing it because he feels bad and -”

“Oh, don’t be stupid!” Penelope nearly falls into Emily, giggling. “I can’t believe you two.” 

You throw your hands in the air. “What?”

Both women share a look before looking back at you with identical disbelief. Emily speaks first. “You can’t be serious.” 

Take a deep breath. You’re not that obvious. 

Maybe you are. You’ve only been half-or-completely in love with him for five years. 

Shut up. 

“Serious about what?”

Emily rolls her eyes and finishes her second glass of wine, reaching to refill it immediately. “Nevermind. You’ll figure it out eventually.” 

+++

You’re finishing your last bit of packing, leaving your toothbrush and toothpaste out for the morning, when your phone rings. 

“Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s Aaron.” 

“Ah, my saving grace,” you say with a laugh. “Calling to cancel on me, after all?”

His laugh just isn’t as good over the phone, but it’ll do. “Not even close. Is 6am still good to come get you?” 

“It’s so early.” There’s absolutely no shame in your whine, and you’re rewarded with another laugh. “But yes, that’s fine. That gives us enough time even if we hit some traffic out of the District and into Richmond.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

You look at your suitcase, resting open on your bed. “You’re still okay with this, right? I know I couldn’t grab that extra hotel room for you and I don’t want you to feel pressured or -”

He cuts you off, calling you out by name. “Enough. I offered, remember? I’ll see you at 6. Bring a pillow so you can sleep in the car.”

Your lips pinch, holding back a smile. “Thanks, Aaron.” And he knows you don’t just mean it for the pillow reminder. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Of course. Sleep well.” 

You don’t, but are nevertheless ready with bells on, pillow tucked under your arm, and coffee in-hand at 5:55am the following morning. He looks surprised when he pulls into the driveway and sees you standing on your porch, looking only a little worse for wear. At least your teeth are brushed.  

“Thought you might want this.” You hold out the travel mug to him as he approaches, and he takes it (and your suitcase) from you. 

“Thank you. Jump in.” 

You follow instructions and immediately stuff your pillow between your head and the window as he throws your suitcase in the trunk. You’re forever grateful Aaron drives the same SUVs you all have at the bureau. He claims it’s easier to not think about different car specs, but at this moment you only care about the temperature control and familiar, soft leather seats. Your eyes shut on their own accord, still heavy even after your abbreviated morning routine. 

He slips into the driver’s seat and, with your eyes closed, you miss the way he looks over at you with a barely-there, fond smile. Your sweatshirt is too big for you and your face is adorably smushed into the pillow. 

With a sigh and shake of his head, he places his hand on the back of your seat, backs out of the driveway, and gets on the road. 

The silence gives him plenty of time to think about things he’d rather not address. This favor, for one, is something he’s still trying to reconcile. 

Would I have offered to Emily? JJ? Hell, Dave? 

If any other member of the team had a friend bail out of their role as a wedding date, he’d like to think he’d drop everything and take the weekend to make them feel better, but he knows that probably wouldn’t be the case in reality. He knew you were different, and it frustrated and confused him. 

As often as he acknowledges his love for you - he wishes it would just stop.  

Only a year and change had passed since Haley’s death, and there were still some mornings where he woke up and couldn’t breathe. Jack still had some nightmares too. Those broke his heart more than anything in the world, but he knew you would always pick up if he called - no matter the hour. 

It happened more often than he’d like to admit. 

“Hotch? Aaron? What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to wake you.” 

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.” 

You’d always talk to him about something or nothing at all, sometimes turning on your bedside lamp and reading from whatever book you were perusing before bed. 

He knows you understand. You were the only one there with him, when he found her body. You were there to take his son out of his bloodied hands. You were there when he was afraid of himself. 

The nightmares still come for you, too, sometimes. There are nights where Haley’s dark blue eyes stare into you, whether your eyes are open or closed. You told him that, once, and he was grateful - grateful that he wasn’t the only one. 

You murmur something in your sleep, about twenty minutes outside of the city. You’re still an hour or more away from Richmond, and Hotch figures he’ll let you sleep if you don’t wake up between now and then. It’s not a hard drive to Berry Hill, and you need the rest. 

Might be good to pick up some food on the way...

He turns the music off, letting the sounds of your breathing and the road wash over him. 

“Aaron.”

He turns, expecting your watchful eyes, but finds you burrowing further into the pillow, a little smile on your face as you remain blissfully unaware of your surroundings. Something warm starts to radiate in his chest as he looks back out at the road, the Virginia countryside stretching out in front of him, around him, and in every direction he can see. The warmth vibrates into his fingertips. He flexes his hands around the wheel, trying to shake it.

He fails. 

You’re not sure how you manage to sleep so soundly in the car. You had tossed and turned all night, thinking only of facing a part of your life you hoped you’d never address head-on ever again. Why you accepted the invitation at all (or why you even received one) was beyond you. 

It must be his mother’s doing. She always loved you, and she did her best to keep your friendship alive much longer than its natural death. 

Exercising control over her child’s life due to an exceptional lack of control and consistency during her upbringing. Relating to her son’s partners to achieve some semblance of intimacy without facing the root of her insecurity that she’s failed as a parent.

The profiling never stopped, it seemed. 

It wasn’t just the wedding keeping you up last night. The thought of spending the weekend with Aaron in an environment where you will inevitably feel (if not look and act) distraught close to the whole time still wears on you. Spending weekends at home, where you sit together with a glass of wine and leftover popcorn after Jack gets tucked in feels different. 

That’s comfortable. That’s safe. This? This is scary. Vulnerable. Burdensome.

Even then, there’s nobody you’d rather have at your side while you face friends you haven’t seen in ages. He’s charismatic, almost entirely unapproachable (when he wants to be), and tall. All those factors should be enough to keep anyone from trifling with you for the duration of the weekend. 

But now, in the car, all those thoughts are far from your mind. Your mind is blissfully dark and blank, your body soothed by the low hum of the car and the smell that follows Hotch wherever he goes - spicy, earthy, and something that reminds you of the air right before lightning strikes. 

The car slows, and the subtle change in ambiance wakes you. You lift your head, finding Hotch turning on an offramp. 

“Are we in Richmond already?” You ask, bleary. 

He smiles. His sunglasses are resting on his nose to combat the rapidly-rising morning sun. “Not yet, but I figured you hadn’t eaten yet.”

You tip your head. He’s right. “I could eat.” 

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “You should eat.” 

+++

After food and a top-off for the gas tank, you offer to drive. 

Aaron refuses. “If you drive, I don’t get to pick the music.” 

“I thought shotgun picks the music.” You frown at him, admittedly still a little tired. You’ve shoved your pillow behind your seat and start to sit like an actual human being for the first time that morning. 

“Those are Morgan’s house rules, not mine.” 

“Ah,” you say, sagely. “I see. What are your house rules?”

There’s a smile behind his sunglasses. “Driver picks the music and critically considers any suggestions made by shotgun.” 

Thus, the Beatles’ White Album starts from the top. You can’t say you’re surprised - it is his favorite. You’ve grown rather fond of it yourself, if you’re honest, Though, you’re not sure if you fondness for the album has anything to do with the man beside you - the one who’s hair is soft and floppy in the morning light, the one wearing an uncharacteristically casual ensemble of jeans, sneakers, and a black t-shirt, the one singing along under his breath.

“Why is this one your favorite?”  You hear yourself ask. 

He’s quiet for a minute, as if you are the first to ask that question. Maybe you are. “I’m...not sure. I think it might have something to do with my mom. She bought the record a couple of weeks after I was born in late ‘68, and made sure I had a copy when I got my own record player in my first college apartment.” He shrugs. “It’s been around just as long as I have, and there’s something a little - I don’t know - comforting about that?”

You nod. “I get that.” You’re quiet for a moment, considering all the things that happened in 1982. “Grease 2 came out the year I was born, so I can’t say I share a similar affinity for the pop culture phenomena of my birth year.” 

Hotch lets out a low whistle and a grimace. “That film really was awful.” He waits for your laugh and is rewarded before continuing. “I saw The Who on their final tour that year.” 

You furrow your brow. “Weren’t you like, barely in high school?”

He nods. “We snuck out, a couple of friends and me. It was really stupid and we got in a lot of trouble, but it was fun.” There’s a nostalgic smile on his face. “I have no idea how we managed to get all the way into the District, let alone find tickets, but everything was a little less complicated back then. Buses ran on time, people read maps, and parents didn’t all have cell phones.” He shrugs and shoots you a smirk. “But of course, that’s before your time.” 

You roll your eyes. “Oh c’mon. I’m not that young. I remember the world before the mainstream internet and 9/11 and all that pre-Patriot Act shit. I remember when the Berlin Wall came down, at least.” 

That gets a laugh out of him. “Fair enough.” 

You lapse into silence for a little while, handing him fries from the drive-thru bag when he puts his open palm over the center console. You notice his left hand shift slightly in time with the music, and you watch a little more carefully. 

And I see it needs sweeping Still my guitar gently weeps

I don’t know why Nobody told you How to unfold your love I don’t know how Someone controlled you They bought and sold you…

“Hotch, do you play guitar?” There’s a touch of disbelief in your tone, but you try to hide it for the sake of his pride. It’s not that you think he doesn’t have a musical or creative bone in his body, but you’re rather surprised by the relaxed subtlety of his movement. It was your impression he never did anything without thinking about it, and to see the slight, almost unconscious action sparks a pleasant little flicker of warmth in your chest. 

He shrugs. “I played a little when I was younger. I guess you could say I know how to play, but I don’t claim to be decent at it in the slightest.” His head tips, and you could swear you see an eye roll. “Sean’s always been better at those kinds of pursuits.” 

As usual, he doesn’t seem thrown or surprised by your question and doesn’t hesitate to answer them. After almost five years, he’s used to your keen observations. He’d never admit it, but he expects them - maybe he’s not able to guess at the content of the questions themselves, but he always knows there will be one eventually.

“Have you and Sean always butted heads?”

Aaron snorts, and gives you a simple, “Yes.” 

You’d never met the younger Hotchner, but you’d seen photos and heard tell. From what you understand, he’s a little wilder than his older brother, a little more idealistic and far less practical. Sean seems like someone you would like, but you doubt he would rise to the top of your Favorite Hotchners List - a list with only two names so far, tied for first. 

It’s safe to say Jack and Aaron are hard acts to follow. 

+++

You talk about everything and nothing, when finally, he asks. “So, who is this guy?”

“Ugh.” You tip your head against the seat. “You really want to know?”

“Of course. Isn’t it protocol to brief the team before arrival?”

You snort, immediately regretting your decision to make fun of Strauss over drinks last week. “Yes, sir.” 

He laughs, and you tell him. 

You tell him about Austin and how you met in a random general education class and became fast friends and started dating, talked about marriage and kids and the whole nine yards. You told him about your semester abroad, your traveling, and returning home to find he’d been dating someone else while you were away, without your knowledge. 

“It’s kind of cliche, I know, but it broke my heart in half.” You laugh a little to cover the truth of it. Hotch keeps his eyes on the road, letting you go at your own pace the same way you let him the entire time he’s known you. “I was really close to his family, and we did our best to remain civil and friendly for everyone else’s sake, but we’ve only kept in touch through other people the last few years.

“I think his mom sent the invitation. I mostly accepted because I’d love to see her and Austin’s little sister - I miss them the most.” 

“What are they like?”

There’s a smile on your face as you tell him about them - how Allison likes more cream than actual coffee in her mug, how their mom has the best taste in books and still sends you worn copies of her favorites every once and awhile. 

“It’s good of you to keep in touch.” 

You shrug. “I guess. I mean, I know it’s different, but you have Jess.”

The difference, he decides, is that you are kinder, more patient than he is. Jess would hardly be in his life at all if Haley was still here. He had a hard enough time keeping up with Haley’s family when they were married. Keeping up with them after the divorce? 

There was no way to know, but he can’t remember much affection between them even before Haley’s father decided to hold him personally responsible for her death. 

You notice his preoccupation, and reach out. Your thumb traces back and forth over the skin of his bare forearm. “It’s different now, and it would be different then. There’s no right way to do anything.” 

He exhales in a huff, and you bring your hand back into your lap. “I spent almost twenty-five years knowing Haley. You know that?”

“I do. I also know you spent longer than twenty-five loving her, and probably won’t ever stop.” 

There’s a sigh, and then an elbow on the center console. He leans heavily on it, and you do your best to keep your hands to yourself. “How do you know everything?” He asks. 

You rest your head against the seat and adjust so your body is angled toward him. A small smile crosses your face as you take in his profile - relaxed, his wrist hanging loosely on the wheel, sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. “I dunno. I guess I just pay attention.” 

+++

You let out an exhausted exhale upon reaching the room you will share with Aaron for the weekend. One king size bed dominates the room, instead of the two doubles you halfway expected. He recovers faster than you do, shrugging and setting his things down on the left side of the bed, closest to the door. 

Instinctively and completely without previous confirmation, you kind of figured he sleeps on the left side. The realization of that fact is a little unsettling, but you follow his lead and set your suitcase on the stand opposite his, unzipping it and unfolding your garment bag. 

There’s a small part of you that’s pleased by this arrangement. Another part of you shames that part. 

He’s going to think you’re taking advantage of him. 

Are you kidding? He’s a SWAT-trained senior FBI agent. And a lawyer. It’s impossible to take advantage of him. 

Yeah, of course that’s what he wants you to think. 

Do you ever shut up?

Your outfits for the cocktail hour and the ceremony day are all set. So are Hotch’s, apparently. You look over to find him hanging a grey pinstripe suit in the closet you’d never seen before. It looks beautifully tailored, and expensive. 

“Mind if I take up some real estate?” You ask, holding up your handful of hangers. He shakes his head and makes some space for you. 

When you’re all settled, you sit on the bed, still tired. It doesn’t make any sense, seeing as Aaron insisted on driving the entire way. 

“What time is our first obligation?”

You huff a laugh at his rhetoric. “5pm. Cocktails at the hotel bar. Rehearsal dinner after that is wedding-party-only, thank God.” Glancing at the clock, you confirm, “We basically have the day to ourselves until then.” 

He nods thoughtfully before meeting your eyes over your shoulder. “How do you feel about a nap?” 

I love you. 

Shut up. 

You can’t imagine how tired he is - working off minimal sleep and coming off a drive just shy of four hours long. “I feel great about a nap.” 

Aaron’s lips quirk up in a smile, and he picks up a pair of flannel pajama pants from his bag and shuts himself into the bathroom. 

Oh my god. Oh my god. 

You quickly shuck your sweatshirt, suddenly too warm. Standing, you cross to the window and draw the blinds, covering the room in a kind of gentle shade that isn’t quite darkness. You toe off your shoes and slip under the covers, thankful you never really changed out of your pajamas. Curling up facing the bathroom door, you try to stay awake until Hotch returns, but your eyes close of their own accord.

Hotch leaves the bathroom to find the room darkened and you under the covers, dead to the world. He takes another moment to look at you, the way your brow sits smooth and relaxed above your closed eyes, your hands curled loosely in front of your face, the way your breath evenly comes and goes past the curve of your lips. 

Taking the risk, he places his jeans back into his duffle bag and gingerly stretches out on top of the covers beside you. His eyes close eventually, but he can’t remember falling asleep - entirely preoccupied by the phenomenon before him. 

+++

When you stir again, your hands are warm. You take a deep breath and your eyes crack open, finding a sight that steals your breath. Hotch is on his side in front of you, ramrod straight, with your hands clasped between his. Your heads are bowed together - not touching, but close. 

There’s no memory of him joining you in the massive bed, nor any recollection of contact, so he either held your hands on his own, or you found each other in sleep. 

You’re not sure which one makes your heart flutter faster.

Resolving to get a little more sleep, you close your eyes. Only moments later, you feel him stir beside you. You know he’s watching you, and you endeavor to keep your breath even and slow, hoping he can’t hear the racing of your heart. 

He releases one of your hands, and you let it drop down to the cover, praying your fingers don’t twitch. 

You’re proud of yourself when you don’t flinch as his fingers brush butterfly-soft against your cheek, tracing from your brow bone, down your nose and across your lips. Impossibly gentle touches find their way down your temple to your jaw before disappearing. 

His hand closes around yours again and it takes everything you have to keep your breath steady as he presses his lips to your fingers before tucking them back to his chest. When his breath evens out again, you know he’s asleep. 

You open your eyes, thinking it's more than high time to study him for a change. 

He looks years younger in his sleep, closer to your age than his. Even awake, he hardly looks the picture of a father in his mid-forties. His graceful aging is more obvious when his face isn’t drawn up in stress or that aching kind of sadness that lingers around him. 

Curious about what he saw and felt on your face, you follow his path, slipping your hand out from under his, tracing his jaw, his cheek and brow bones, his handsome, straight nose. 

Your finger rests lightly on his cupid’s bow for a moment, his breath rushing slow and warm over your hand. The feeling of his breath stalls yours, and you swallow. The next breath you take is almost a sob, and you press your lips into a thin line. Light fingers brush through the hair at his temples, the sparse, soft silver strands seeming to glow in the low light. 

What you don’t know, however, is that he has taken a page out of your book. Though his eyes are closed and his breath even, he is very much awake, heart pounding. He’s sure you can hear it, or even feel it, with your remaining hand still trapped between his. 

The catch in your breath makes his chest ache. Even then, his eyes remain closed, and he’s mindful of his breath. With the route you take, tracing his features, he realizes with a shock of adrenaline and cold panic that you were probably awake, playing at sleep then as he was now. 

If that was the case, you know how he feels about you. He knows how you feel about him. 

But you can’t. You don’t want to take up space in his life he doesn’t have, space better used to heal, space reserved for his son. 

He can’t. It's too soon. He can’t subject you to the ghosts, the baggage, the long journey to wholeness he’s endeavored to embark upon with only his son at his side. 

The new normal, his therapist had told him, is the hardest thing to find. 

He was sure, then, that it would be easier to find the new normal on his own, but he wasn’t so sure, now. 

You slip your hands away from him entirely and roll over, making play at rising. You check the time on your phone, finding the early afternoon awaiting you. 

There’s a deep breath and a stretching noise, and you turn to find Aaron rolled over on his back, his hands laced behind his head. 

“Good afternoon,” you say, and you’re proud of yourself for sounding normal. 

A smile plays at his lips. He looks like he knows something. “Good afternoon.” 

“So, tonight.” You decide it’s best to move on before anyone admits anything they don’t mean to share. “Do you just want to be ‘work friends’ or do we want to lean into the whole ‘let’s ruin Austin’s life’ thing?”

He laughs a little. “I’m comfortable leaning in if you are.” 

+++

The cocktail hour isn’t as horrible as you thought it would be. Aaron sticks to your side like glue, your right hand firmly placed in the crook of his arm while your left babysits a small glass of wine, more for show than for anything else. 

You hear your name from across the room, and you see a huddle of some old friends and their respective dates. Aaron tips his head down to get the briefing, and you tell him names, relationships, and brief histories as you approach. 

As you expected, he’s warm and charming, taking cues from you as you navigate eight years of catch-up with classmates you remember well and alleged classmates you don’t recognize at all. 

“How did you two meet?” The woman asks (You’re certain she’s someone’s sister - Hotch caught her name while you missed it. Oops.). 

You glance up at Aaron for a second before answering. “We’re in the same department at work.” 

The man with her takes a sip of his drink. Him, you kind of recognize. Casey? Carson? Maybe. “Where is that, again? I can’t remember where you landed after your internship.” 

“DoJ, in Quantico.” 

Leslie, who you met in guided research your senior year, rolls her eyes. “They work for the FBI, Carson, keep up.” 

Carson, that’s it. 

“No shit!” 

A small group has gathered around you, and you shuffle closer to Aaron. He wraps his arm around your waist and steps a little behind you, protective and secure. 

“Shit,” you reply, jostling Aaron with your shoulder. “We don’t have our creds on us tonight, so if you get arrested you’ll have to bail yourselves out.” 

“We also don’t have jurisdiction even if we did, so keep it high and tight and we’ll all do just fine.” Aaron’s voice rumbles through you with a laugh, and you take an overlarge sip of wine. 

He really shouldn’t say things like high and tight with his hand where it is. 

And his hand isn’t really in any kind of questionable location, just resting above your hip with his chest to your back, but it's still more contact than you’re used to. He wasn’t joking about leaning in. 

“There he is!” Carson crows, and your head whips around. You almost lose your balance, but Hotch keeps his feet. A warm hand presses to your shoulder. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. You know he can hear you, and he presses a kiss to your temple. 

“Always.” 

It’s just an act. He doesn't mean it. He can’t mean it. 

Austin approaches with his drop-dead gorgeous fiancee and a smile. 

Aaron releases you as Austin gives you a warmer hug than you were expecting, and examines Hotch over your shoulder. He introduces you to his fiancee (Madeline), and you introduce them both to Aaron. 

“Austin, this is my…” you pause, realizing you never actually established a cover story, letting the implication speak for itself. “Aaron.” You recover with a light laugh, and Aaron pulls you to him with one hand while he shakes Austin’s with the other. 

You try not to smirk at the grimace that flashes across Austin’s face when Aaron’s hand closes around his in a very firm and assertive handshake. “Pleasure. Congratulations.” 

Austin laughs, a little uncomfortable, and stretches his hand once it reaches his side again. “Thanks. We’re really glad you both could make it. Mom will be really happy to see you.” 

+++

“That could have been so much worse.” You shuck Aaron’s blazer off your shoulders and hang it in the closet as he passes behind you. He’d passed it to you when you shivered slightly at the bar and it wasn’t even a point of conversation. It had been second nature to him, draping it over you and placing a hand on your back. The memory pulls a smile from your lips. “Thank you for enduring the mayhem down there.” 

Aaron sits on the bed and slips off his boots. “I can’t remember the last time I went to a social event that didn’t directly affect my career trajectory.” He looks up at you, and his grin makes your heart skip around in your chest. 

You shake your head, walking past him to retrieve your pajamas and toothbrush. “Do you ever want to move up the chain at all?”

“Not really. Something big would have to change to get me to leave the BAU.” He looks at you over his shoulder. “We tried that, remember?”

“I do, actually.” At his chuckle, you continue. “I can’t say that’s something I’d like to relive anytime soon.” 

You move easily around each other, changing into pajamas and brushing your teeth and getting otherwise ready for bed. He’s cute at night, with his pajamas and floppy hair and big yawns. It’s not like you haven’t seen this side of him before, what with all the late nights watching movies with Jack, but it is significant that it’s just the two of you. He’s not Jack’s Dad right now, or Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner who won’t go to bed until The Case Is Solved, but Aaron. 

Sleepy, charming, funny Aaron. 

Eventually, you throw back the covers and crawl in without thinking about it too much, while Aaron lingers in the bathroom doorway. 

“I really can take the couch.”

You look at him and pointedly turn off the lamp resting on your side table. “We’re adults. I don’t mind it if you don’t. And for that matter, if either one of us is sleeping on the couch it’s me.” 

“Oh?” He asks. “Why’s that?”

“Because as you so astutely pointed out earlier, I am significantly younger than you, and I think my back will fare better than yours after a night of lumpy cushions.” 

The bathroom light flips off, and you hear a scoff in the dark. “Never once did I say significantly younger.” 

“Well, Aaron, ‘before your time’ is rife with implication.” 

The mattress dips beside you, and his form takes shape in the darkness, facing you. Before he can speak again, you cut him off. 

“You know what? Nevermind. I forgot who I was talking to, and I would hate for you to go full-tilt lawyer on me.” You curl up, bringing the covers to your chin. He laughs, and you can almost pretend that this is your life, that you get to fall asleep beside Aaron every night. 

Don’t get comfortable. 

Why not? He’s here, isn’t he?

He is, but not like that. This is a favor for a friend, nothing more. 

You’re both quiet for a little while, listening to each other breathe in the dark. There’s a sigh, and you belatedly realize it came from you. 

“Are you okay?” Aaron’s voice floats to you in the dark, and you nod. “I know this isn’t easy for you.” 

You think for a moment, trying to articulate your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just - I really can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re here with me this weekend.” A hand reaches out, and you find it. 

“Of course. I’m glad I can be here for you.” He means it. The trust you’ve placed in him does not go unnoticed or unappreciated. Your willingness to be vulnerable and funny and so yourself is a precious gift to him, and one he’ll never take for granted. “Thank you for letting me come.” 

I’d like to let you come -

Ew, dude. 

What?

Now is not the time. 

“With that in mind,” he continues, his voice gentle in the dark, “I’m really proud of you. And not in a ‘I’m your boss and you’re making significant progress,’ way. As your friend, I’m really proud of you.”

Your friend. 

He is your friend. 

I know but that…sucks. 

It doesn’t have to. 

There’s something in his voice that almost makes you stupid, but you hold your tongue. “Goodnight, Hotch.” 

He takes a deep breath, missing the way his first name fits in your mouth. It sounds safe there, like you’d never use it against him. “Goodnight.” 

+++

You feel warm and feeling somewhat constricted, but not uncomfortable. There’s weight at your back and an arm around your waist, and you lean into it in your state of half-wakefulness. A little noise leaves the body behind you, almost like a sigh with tone. 

Remembering where you are, you resist the instinct to jump. Hotch is wrapped around you like a koala, his knee between yours, one arm under your head and the other around your waist, face buried into the crook of your neck and shoulder. 

His hair smells divine, and he’s so warm. 

Your theory from yesterday morning seems confirmed - you definitely didn’t fall asleep touching each other, so you must have found each other in the night. The thought warms you, and you close your eyes again.

The ceremony isn’t until the early afternoon, so you have all the time in the world to doze and prepare for the hellscape of the day. 

That’s not a fair assessment. You think, and correct yourself. 

If the prior evening was any indication, things would go smoothly. Aaron was the world’s best wingman. He kept conversation flowing and took your cues without a second’s hesitation. Everyone loved him, and people asked you all night how you met, how long you’d known each other, how long you’d been together. The first questions were easy, but the last one was one you hadn’t prepared for. He, of course, had an answer for all three. 

“We work together.” 

“We met, what? Five years ago now? Maybe a little more?”

“We’ve been partners for almost four years.” 

And...he wasn’t lying. You always paired off with him at work, whether naturally or by assignment. His lack of specifics in defining your relationship both settled and raised your blood pressure, depending on the way you decided to approach it. The words accompanied an affectionate squeeze around your waist or a kiss to the back of your hand. 

You know he’s just playing the part for the weekend and everything will go back to normal when you get home. 

But God, he’s good at it. 

You almost believe him.

He’s still sleeping behind you, his breath fanning slow and even across your shoulder. You’re both fully clothed, but there’s something intimate about it. Sleep, you think, is inherently vulnerable, inherently a trusting state. You two not only managed to fall asleep in the same bed, but woke up tangled together. 

You drop your hand to your waist and rest your hand on top of his, falling back into sleep without too much thought. 

When Hotch wakes, it’s thankfully late. He’s far too comfortable to be in a hotel bed, but quickly realizes it’s not the mattress. You’re wrapped in his arms, and for a split second he almost panics, concerned that you’ll wake to find him glommed onto you like some kind of ridiculous backpack. 

But then he remembers the way your fingers traced his face when you were sure he was asleep, the way you leaned into him the night before - taking shelter in his willing arms. 

He feels your fingers pushed between his, your palm warm against the back of his hand, holding him to you.

He’s fucked. He’s totally and completely fucked. He’s even more fucked to even consider the possibility you’re fucked, too. 

How could you possibly want him? A man nearly fifteen years older than you, with one failed marriage under his belt, an inability to tear himself away from his work, and more than enough trauma to drown in is hardly the ideal partner for someone as vibrant as you, with so much life yet to live.

And yet, it’s so hard to imagine a life without you. Whenever he looks into his future, he sees you there with him. It’s far too easy to let himself fall into the fantasy as you peacefully sleep in his arms with your fingers laced together. 

You shift a little in your sleep, and he arches his back a little, definitely trying to keep you away from...certain parts of his anatomy that are a little more awake than the rest of him. 

Quit while you’re ahead, Hotchner. 

He very gingerly disentangles himself from you, and he’s pleased when he only gets a few sleepy protests in return. The shower is calling his name, for more than one reason including but not limited to the uncomfortable tightness of his flannel pajama pants. 

With one last lingering glance at you, he picks up his toiletries and locks himself in the bathroom for a long (very) hot shower, followed by a much shorter (very) cold shower. 

While he’s gone, you stir and stretch your arms over your head. A little disoriented, you find his side of the bed empty but not quite cold before you hear the running water of the shower. 

What if you just - 

Do not finish that thought. 

You are not one iota of fun. 

Reaching for your bag, you pull your laptop out and get started on some emails. You have a couple from Seaver and one from Emily.

You sigh and pull out your phone. 

“Prentiss.”

“Hey, Em. You wanted me to call?”

“Oh, I just wanted to see how things are going down there.” her voice is the picture of forced nonchalance, and you can almost hear Penelope leaning over her shoulder. 

You laugh into the phone and trace patterns on the bedspread. “Things are going well. Hotch was the perfect gentleman last night, and we have the ceremony and reception today. We head home tomorrow morning.” 

“Has anything happened? Where is he right now?”

“He’s in the shower. And no, don’t be ridiculous.” You shove your phone under your chin and answer all of Ashley’s questions in confident keystrokes. “You and I both know he’s just here because he likes to owe me favors.”

Aaron pauses in the bathroom, in the middle of towel-drying his hair. With a smile, he overhears: “...he’s just here because he likes to owe me favors.” 

He can’t hear the response, but he does hear you when you say. “My God, Em. Would you quit?” 

Ah. So it is Emily. 

“I’m not going to do anything about it because there’s nothing to do anything about...Don’t give me that...You have absolutely no proof...I don’t care if you’re a profiler or not, there is no way you can say with any definitive certainty -” You pause, and your voice drops to a low murmur he can’t hear over the hum of the bathroom fan. 

With a frustrated huff, he ties the towel around his waist and ventures out, entirely aware of his state of undress. 

You’re so glad you drop your voice to finish your thought (“- that he’s in love with me. Don’t be stupid.”) because the door opens and you are immediately confronted with Aaron Hotchner in a towel and every single coherent thought flies out of your head. He smiles a little at you, and something in you melts. 

“Are you good?” Emily’s voice is full of laughter. 

The heat rises in your cheeks and you whip your head back to your laptop, typing just for something to do with your hands. “Yeah, for sure.” 

“He just walked out wearing a towel, didn’t he?”

“Emily, you know I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” You roll your eyes, and miss the smirk on Hotch’s face as he grabs his hanging clothes from the closet.

“So that’s a yes.” 

+++

Austin’s family clearly spared no expense for either the ceremony or the reception. You and Aaron had walked in arm-in-arm to find a spot on the groom’s side near the back. It’s still weird - there was a time where you thought for sure Austin was the be-all-end all for you. 

But here you are, sitting next to Aaron. He’s wearing that beautiful suit that looks even better on him than it did on the hanger (and that’s saying something). As promised, his tie matches your outfit, and you’d be lying if you didn’t say it made your heart all warm watching him put it on. 

The ceremony itself is a blur. You stand and sit when you’re supposed to, and spend the vows with your head on Aaron’s shoulder - playing the role, of course. You take a few unsteady breaths, caught off guard by how affected you are by the ritual of it all. 

You don’t love Austin anymore, not by a long shot. That said, the reminder that you’re not married to anybody but work and rapidly approaching thirty is unpleasant. 

“Are you okay?” Hotch’s whisper doesn’t carry far. 

You nod. “Yeah. Just thinking.” 

“About?”

You shake your head, the soft wool of his suit jacket pressing into your temple. “Later.” 

His cheek presses to your hair for just a moment. He’s not worried about you, per se, but he’s never seen you in this existentially forlorn state before. It’s a feeling he recognizes in himself, but to see it on you makes him feel a new kind of helpless. 

+++

You’re at the open bar, snagging a glass of wine for yourself and two fingers of whiskey for Aaron (the good stuff, of course), when Austin’s mother warmly accosts you. 

“Darling!” 

Against your will, a genuine smile breaks out across your face. “Hey, Laurie!” You set the drinks down and embrace her, the familiar smell of her perfume engulfing you. Suddenly, you feel nineteen years old again. “Congratulations.” 

She pulls back and waves off your good wishes. “Oh, please. I haven’t done anything.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “I beg to differ, but alright.” 

She takes you under her arm and holds you close to her. “So.” Her tone is conspiratorial, as if a great plot is to unfold before you. “Who is that devastatingly handsome man you’ve brought with you to shame my son?” 

“I did not bring him to shame your son, he offered to come when my original date bailed. You remember Dean?”

“Of course. Such a sweet boy. Still married to his work?”

You shake your head. “I would be...hypocritical of me to get upset with him for that. My work at the bureau keeps me plenty busy. If I’m honest, this is the first personal time I’ve used in four years.” 

She squeezes you for a half-second. “I’m so glad you’re here with us.” Her lips purse. “But don’t think you can get out of telling me about that fine, fine man over there.” 

“His name is Aaron,” you start, fighting a smile. “We work together at the bureau and he’s just a friend, Laurie, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I always have ideas. Now, introduce me so I can see for myself.” 

With a long-suffering sigh, you grab the drinks off the bar and lead her to the table, where Aaron sits with his fingers pressed thoughtfully to his mouth, his elbow on the table and ankle crossed over his knee. Approaching from behind him, you set the whiskey down where he can’t knock it over and lay a hand on his shoulder. “Aaron.”

He turns, and a broad smile breaks out over his face. You’re sure he’s just being polite - you’ve never seen him smile so much. Offering a hand to Laurie, he stands. “SSA Aaron Hotchner. Thank you for having us. I’ve heard so much about you and your family.”

“Oh no, that can’t be good.” She laughs lightly and takes his hand in both of our own. “Laurie Miller. As I’m sure you know, I have a great amount of love for this one here.” She releases Aaron’s hand and tucks you into her arms again, kissing your cheek. You laugh, tickled by her demonstrative affection designed only to embarrass you. 

“C’mon, Laur. You don’t have to lie for my benefit.”

You try to ignore the fondness in Aaron’s eyes as he watches the two of you, Laurie cooing over you and your successes. She returns her focus back to Aaron. “Sit, sit and tell me what you crazy kids get up to over there in Quantico.” 

Aaron sits and relaxes back into his chair, resting his arm on the back of your seat. You lean forward with your elbows on the table, your hands propping up your head. Aaron’s a great storyteller, of course, and it’s so interesting to watch him talk about work outside of the context itself. He seems to bloom - effusive, charming, and warm - before you. 

When you look at him, it’s as if you’re seeing him for the first time. 

“...Preventing loss of life is always rewarding, and our team is a family.” 

Laurie is clearly enamored, completely drawn into his gentle description of your very-stressful and often-gritty line of work. “It’s so lovely you have so much fondness for each other. I imagine it makes everything much easier.” 

He nods, and glances at you. “It does.” 

Your phone buzzes on the table, and you excuse yourself with a hand on each of their shoulders. 

“Dean, you bastard!” You answer. Hotch’s huff of laughter tells you he overheard it, but he picks up right where he left off with Laurie. 

As you step out onto the banquet hall balcony, almost feel bad leaving him to his own devices, but then you remember all the times he’s been left alone with serial killers and you feel much better. 

“Hey babe! Are you surviving? Are you alone? Tell me everything.” 

You laugh into the phone. “I’m doing alright. Hotch actually offered to come with me. I just stepped out, but he’s in there holding his own well enough.”

“Oh my god. When I said that I didn’t actually think you’d do it!”

“What do you mean?” You look up and out over the property, and the views are simply breathtaking. The moonlight falling across the Virginia landscape almost makes the world look like it’s holding its breath. 

What it’s waiting for... you’re not sure. 

“When I said bring your hot boss to the wedding I was joking. You didn’t ask him, did you?”

You let out a snort and it almost disrupts the peace of the evening. “Of course not. He offered.”

“I have never met a pair of people so fucking stupid in all my life.” 

“You’ve never met Hotch, idiot.” 

“Don’t have to,” Dean says. “I know you are you’re dumb enough for the both of you.” 

+++

When the dancing starts, you’re understandably resistant. The playlist is a playful mix of contemporary and classic music, and you can’t help but laugh when Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’m Yours) starts to play. 

Aaron stands and offers you his hand. You take his hand without thinking, belatedly realizing his intentions. 

“Hotch, you can’t be serious.” You stop dead in your tracks, but his grip on your fingers stays firm as he looks back at you with a look of humorous disbelief on his face. 

“When have you ever known me to be otherwise?” He tugs you forward, and you fall into his arms with a huff. “Humor me. Just one and I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.” 

You glare at him, dubious. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because I’m lying.” 

And at the end of the day, you can’t refuse him anything - especially when he smiles at you like that. 

He’s an excellent dancer. Your grip on his shoulder slowly loosens as you grow more comfortable, trusting him to lead you around the dance floor. He holds you tight, his movement playful in a way that’s almost foreign to you. 

You’ve seen him dance exactly once, at Haley’s 39th birthday party, the summer before she died. 

You catch sight of Austin and Madeline on the other side of the dance floor and avert your gaze when you find Austin looking back at you. 

“Hey.” Aaron’s voice is low, almost a laugh.

Your eyes snap to Aaron’s. “What?”

“Relax.” 

“You’re one to talk,” you scoff. 

He rolls his eyes and throws you out by one arm, spinning you so your back is to his chest. “I’m plenty relaxed. You are tense.” 

The feeling of his heartbeat against your back ruins your resolve and you relent. “It just feels weird.”

“What does?” He spins you back out and pulls you close. You try not to be too distracted by the proximity of his face to yours when you land back against his chest, you hand resting over his heart.  

“I just -” you push through your reluctance and admit, “I don’t love him in that way anymore, but it’s super weird to even think that I could have ever thought he was it for me. And now he’s with someone he loves and both of our lives just...kept going after we split, you know?” You shake your head, scattering your thoughts. 

He nods. “I do.”

You believe him. The very concept of his heartbreak with Haley - the separation, the anger, the divorce, her death, the love - is overwhelming. You know he understands. 

The silence that lapses between you is comfortable. 

Yeah, I've done a lot of foolish things That I really didn't mean I could be a broken man Here I am, baby...

When he turns you under his arm, you laugh until you can’t breathe. There’s a smile on his face, too, and there’s something warm and inexplicable about it. You turn the tables on him, turning him under your arm and pulling him back to you.

The song changes to something slower and, true to his word, Aaron keeps you out on the dance floor. You’re exhausted all of a sudden, and your eyes close as you rest your head against his shoulder. 

“Thank you for being here with me.” 

You’re only sure you spoke aloud when Aaron replies, “Of course.”

+++

Your feet ache when you finally call it quits and head upstairs to your room for the night. Aaron’s suit jacket had long since left him, leaving him rolled sleeves and a loose tie with his top two buttons undone. It traveled from the back of his chair to where it now rests, slung over his arm.

You look over your shoulder as you slip your shoes off. “You look positively rumpled, Agent Hotchner.” 

He lets out a laugh, and it makes your breath catch. His laugh always takes you by surprise; it’s much brighter and higher than his speaking register, and frankly, adorable. “It’s past my bedtime.”

“You don’t have a bedtime.” And it was true - you could count on one hand the amount of times you’d known him to actually sleep, especially on a case. You could neither confirm nor deny that he even needed it to function prior to this weekend. 

The thought makes your cheeks a little warm, and you turn away from him, setting aside your pajamas and packing the rest of your items. 

There’s a little chuckle behind you before the bathroom door closes and the shower starts up. 

When Aaron leaves the bathroom, his hair wet and pajamas on, you’re asleep. Curled up on top of the covers, out like a light. 

He flips all the switches, leaving the room in darkness. Creeping to your side of the bed, he reaches over and pulls the covers down, gingerly shuffling your legs underneath, followed by your torso. You stir a little, and catch his hand as he moves to tuck your hands under the covers. 

His eyes close, just for a moment, before slipping his hand out of yours. He’s already dreading going back to his empty apartment tomorrow afternoon. 

That feeling is only amplified when you curl up against his chest as soon as he’s settled under the covers, your leg hooked over his. 

+++

You wake up warm again, and snuggle into the body beside you. Arms tighten around you, and you remember where you are and who you’re with. Unlike yesterday, you can’t pretend to be asleep - when you look up, Hotch is awake, brown eyes looking down at you. 

“Good morning,” he says. 

You tuck your face back into his chest. “I’m sorry - I’m clingy when I sleep.” 

His laugh sings over the crown of your head. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.” 

Don't read into that. 

I’m going to. 

Don’t. 

Fuck. 

“What time is it?” You crane your neck and look at the clock on his bedside table, but you can’t quite see with his arm in the way. 

“Just before nine. We have an hour before checkout. Want to get packed, grab some breakfast, and head out? I’ll drive.”

“You drove here.” You shove at him and sit up. 

He shrugs and you take a moment to admire the tousled, floppy state of his hair. “I like driving.” 

“I won’t argue with that.” 

You sigh, stretch, stand and start rolling. You brush your teeth (twice) and put your clothes back into your suitcase, zipping it up without much trouble. He, of course, takes it off your hands right away and brings the bags to the car while you take care of checkout. 

He meets you outside, sunglasses on, and the sun hits his hair. You can see all the nuances in the black - the touch of silver, the dark browns and reds. They all seem to make a halo around him in the sunshine. “Ready?”

You snap back to attention and give him a wide smile. “Yes, sir!” 

Breakfast is an eventful affair. As soon as you sit down, you get a call from Penelope. 

“Hey, Pen, what’s up?” You look across the table at Hotch with amusement in your eyes, and he smiles, still digging into his eggs benedict like a starving man. 

“Tell me everything.”

“Oh, well we’re just at breakfast, almost on our way back. My laptop is in the car, can I take a look at that for you when I get home?” 

Not now, Penelope, I’ll call you when I’m home. 

She hums, following right away. “You better give me every single detail as soon as you step through the door or I swear I’ll riot.”

With a laugh, you reply, “Of course. You know, it might be easier if you just stop by - I’ll text you when I get home and we can do dinner or something.” You push your food around your plate, trying to ignore the fact that the only person you actually want to have dinner with is right across from you.

“Perfect. Yeah, just text me when you get home babycakes. Can’t wait!” She hangs up promptly, and your eyebrows raise for a half second. 

You put your phone away and shake your head. “She’s very predictable.” 

He nods, looking at you from under his brows. “Indeed.” 

You both continue to dig into your food, not realizing how hungry you are from all your antics the night before. His phone rings next, and it’s Jack. 

“Hey bud!” 

There’s nothing better than the way his voice transforms when he speaks to his son. You hear your name and return your attention to his conversation. 

“...we’re at a wedding this weekend, remember? We got to go to a big party last night, and we’re driving home today… Yeah,” he looks at you, “we did have a lot of fun… I’m so glad you had a good time with Aunt Jess and the Brooks cousins this weekend… You got to go ice fishing? That’s so exciting! Did Grandpa take you?... Awesome, bud… Sounds good, I’ll call you when I get home, okay?... I love you too.”

When he puts his phone away, you ask, “How’s he doing?”

“It’ll be a fight to get him home, that’s for sure.” 

You take another bite of your food. “How are things with Haley’s family? Any better?”

“Not at all. I’m not sure there’s much I can do, at this point. Jess does what she can, but her dad is… not a fan of mine.” There’s a kind of sadness in his eyes, and you almost regret asking.

“I know you know this, but none of this is your fault.” You look into him and hope he can see the sincerity in your eyes, hear it in your voice. 

He thinks for a moment, and you’re almost nervous he’s going to disagree (it’s happened before), but he just meets your eyes and says, “Thank you.”

+++

Hotch lets you pick the music on the way home, and doesn’t say a word when you sing along (sometimes good, sometimes bad). He does occasionally smile a little secret smile to himself, which makes your heart skip around in your chest. 

At a certain point, you turn the music off and sit back in your seat. 

As usual, Aaron knows you’re going to say something long before you say it. “Yes?” 

“I know I keep saying this, but thank you for coming with me this weekend.” Your body shifts toward him, and you can’t seem to tear your eyes from his profile. 

“You’re welcome.” He glances at you before looking back at the road. “Thank you for trusting me not to embarrass you in front of people you haven’t seen in almost ten years.” 

You smile a kind of lopsided sort of smile. “You could never embarrass me.”

He frowns playfully. “That’s not true.” 

“You are exceedingly upstanding, and you just got your hair cut, so the odds are in my favor.” 

“Hey!” He self-consciously runs a hand over the back of his hair. You reach over to shove at his shoulder and you’re rewarded with a laugh. 

“I’m kidding! I like it long.” You look over fondly at him. “It was longer when I first met you, remember?” You’re not sure why you continue, but you do nevertheless. “You started keeping it shorter after the div - well, after.” 

He quirks his brow, the corners of his lips upturned just the smallest amount. “Nobody ever accused you of being unobservant.” 

You grin widely at him and turn the radio back on. 

+++

You’ve never been more disappointed to see your own driveway in your whole life. Hotch pulls in and turns the ignition off, and you sit in silence for a minute. 

There’s so much to think about, and most of it is at least a little uncomfortable. Of course you’re in love with him and he’s your favorite person (and that’s bad enough), but that is even harder to stomach now that you have to go back into the real world. 

It’s easy to pretend that it was real, that it wasn’t just for show to make you feel less awful about the direction of your love life. If anything, now that you’re home, you feel even worse. 

The only person you want is seemingly the only person you can’t have. There’s something so unattainable about Hotch. You’re not sure if it’s his stern exterior or his age or his role, or if it has more to do with how devastatingly handsome he is, but it’s something. 

Aaron wishes he could do anything else, than leave you here at home. Nevertheless, he sighs and gets out of the car. You follow him around back, though you’re not really sure why - he takes your suitcase and insists on carrying it all the way to the door. 

You stand there, fumbling with your keys, feeling more and more like a character in a romantic comedy with every passing second. Aaron sets your suitcase on the ground and covers your hands with his. You look up at him, and he leans toward you, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to your cheek. 

“Thank you for inviting me.” 

All you can do is nod, with a tight, closed-mouth smile. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says

“Bye, Hotch,” you call to him as he trots back to the car. “Thanks again.” 

He turns toward you, puts his sunglasses on, opens the door, and says, “Anytime.” 

You wave with the tips of your fingers and slide into your house. Your back to do the door, you slide down to the floor and cover your face with your hands. 

Fuck. 

tagged: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @saintd0lce @good-heavens-chris-evans @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @vintagecaptainspidey​ @micaiahmoonheart​ @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass​ @marvels-agents100​ @newtslatte​ @risenfox ​@mrs-dr-reid​ @captain-christopher-pike​ @joemazzello-imagines​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @sebbybaby0​ @pan-pride-12​ @hotchlinebling​ @lee-rin-ah ​@sunshine-em​ @word-scribbless ​@jdougl-love​ @sageellsworth05​ @emmice9 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky​ @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss @songbird400 @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @a-dorky-book-keeper @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @zizzlekwum @lcvischmitt

[kisskeiji]

7. Lottery.

Lost & Found.

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and smoking, like one mention of sex (i think) and atsumu being sentimental. 

  Winter was your favorite season. You would always stay in for the holidays and spend the winter break at home. Iwaizumi never understood why you enjoyed sleeping with nothing but your underwear  and a pair of fuzzy socks if you were going to sleep with three covers anyway, you loved the cold and everything that came with it. Your wardrobe was always full of sweaters and coats and your shared apartment was carefully decorated with things you collected over the years. 

Now they remained in the box where you left them the last christmas you spent with him, untouched, since he wasn’t one to celebrate especially now that he is spending the season by himself, refusing to go home with Hanamaki. He still missed you and he tried to do everything he could to get you out of his mind, he even worked on Christmas day but couldn’t stop thinking about you and how you would be wandering around the kitchen cooking dinner for your friends, but he ruined it. You weren’t with him and it was all his fault and he hated it. 

There was no one else to blame, but his pride and jealousy tried to blame you too, convincing himself it was your fault too for running away, for not facing him, for moving on before him. Ever since he called you that night and another guy answered the phone his chest tightened to the thought of you with another man. His friends tried to set him up with several women but he never caved in, he didn’t wanted to give himself another chance, he wanted you, and if he couldn’t have you then there was no other person for him, you were the one, and he knew that since you started dating but he gave in to his selfish needs. 

It was New Year’s Eve and his boss urged him to take a break. He had no other plans, he called his parents and texted his best friends wishing them a happy New Year because he was going to sleep early that night. Someone knocked on the door when he was on his way to the shower. Hanamaki and Matsukawa greeted him when he opened the door.

“At least act like you are glad to see us.” Matsukawa said.

“I thought you guys were in Miyagi.” 

“Yeah, but we knew you were going to mope around all day so we came to see you.” Hanamaki sat on the couch.

“Iwaizumi-san!” Kindaichi entered the apartment along with Kunimi and Watari. 

“You guys too?” He asked, hugging all of them, his mood slowly getting better.

“Yahaba and Kyotani are coming too.” Watari informed him before walking to the kitchen to drop the bags of takeout they all brought. “We thought a team reunion would pick you up.” 

“You didn’t have to, guys.” Iwaizumi took his laptop and a few papers that were on the coffee table to make some room. 

“But you need it.” Kunimi said with evident concern. Iwaizumi’s expression softened and his eyes watered, still wishing you were there but certainly not alone anymore, his friends still cared for him. 

“Don’t tell me you are crying!” Matsukawa teased him with an arm around his shoulders. 

“Of course not, you idiot, I’m just happy you are all here.” Everyone laughed at him, the ever so indifferent Iwaizumi almost crying was a rare sight, but warmth ran through everyone’s veins in that moment. 

Just like Watari promised, Yahaba and Kyotani joined shortly after, with tons of beer and baked goods Kyotani cooked for everyone. Hours passed, sharing laughs and reminiscing their high school days, the alcohol started to get the best of them, even Kunimi was cracking jokes every now and then, a few cigarette ends scattered around the table and empty plates piled on the sink. Iwaizumi laid back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, longing for something. 

“Makki told me you tried to call her.” Matsukawa said casually, lighting another cigarette. Iwaizumi sighed and looked at him inhale the smoke.

“I did, but we didn’t talk.” Matsukawa raised an eyebrow. “A guy picked up the phone and I hung up.”  Iwaizumi heard a ‘tsk’ from Matsukawa.

“That’s tough. But she has never mentioned anything about dating when we talk, maybe it was just a friend.” Issei reasoned and Iwaizumi nodded, still unsure.

“Have you seen her recently?” Iwaizumi asked. 

 “We went out the last time she went to Miyagi a few weeks ago. My girl loves her.” Matsukawa took out his phone from the back of his pocket and tapped the screen a few times before showing a picture of his girlfriend and you at some bar, smiling brightly at the camera, cheeks flushed and drinks on the table. Iwaizumi smiled to himself, you looked beautiful yet different, a different kind of light shined in your eyes. “She’s doing great.” 

“I miss her.” Words weren’t enough to describe how much he was hurting.

“I know, but you need to get over her, she already figured things out, you can’t hold to the past any longer. What you did was dick move, but give yourself a chance, you don’t have to date right now but try to get yourself out there, have fun and please get some. I’m begging you.” The last comment earned him a smack on the back of his head from Iwaizumi. 

“How do you know I’m not getting any? You don’t live here anymore.” Iwaizumi questioned. 

“Because Makki won’t stop bitching about your attitude.” Matsukawa explained and brought the cigarette back to his lips and laughed at Iwaizumi’s frown, exhaling the smoke in the opposite direction of his friends. “It’s almost midnight.” He announced. 

“Yeah you are right.” Iwaizumi looked back at the rest of the guys currently crowding his living room, smiling to himself once again. “Thanks.” He paused and looked at the former middle blocker. “For this, I mean, I really needed it.”

“Always.” Matsukawa gave him a pat on his shoulder and smiled, he still had hope for Iwaizumi and he wished nothing but the best for his friend, even if you were not together anymore, both of you deserved to be happy. 

*

Meanwhile in some five star hotel in Tokyo, you struggled to check-in, with a small suitcase and a dress bag hanging on your shoulder, you tried to make the receptionist understand you were part of the required staff for the night and not a reporter trying to get in, but you forgot your team ID. Hideko was nowhere to be seen and none of your higher ups were staying at the same hotel. You were screwed until someone could prove you were in fact working that night and you were losing precious time to get ready, you had less than 6 hours before the party started. 

“Is there a problem?” You heard someone ask from behind you. Meian and his girlfriend walked to the counter and the receptionist’s attitude changed instantly, he explained the situation politely to the two of them while sparing you a nasty side eye when they referred to you. 

“Meian-senshu, please tell them I work with you, they won’t let me check-in and I forgot my ID. My name is on the reservation but they refuse to give me my room.” You pleaded, your dress bag feeling heavier with every minute. 

“Y/N does work with the Black Jackals, I assume you know who I am, please let her in, she’s coming to the party too.” He pointed at the access pass on your wrist. 

“I’m really sorry, ma’am, I will register you right now.” The receptionist typed quickly and gave you the room key. Sighing heavily you thanked Meian for his help as he checked-in himself. His girlfriend started a small chat with you about what you would wear tonight, she was really excited to wear her gown and complemented yours.

“You are going to break hearts tonight, Y/N!” She teased. 

“Well if your dress is how I imagine it is then Meian-senshu is taking two awards tonight.” 

“You are not wrong.” Meian added, sneaking his arm around her waist and passed her the key. “Eleventh floor.” He said as she held the card. “Atsumu isn’t here yet?” He asked and you shrugged. 

“I don’t know, I’ve been here for a good thirty minutes and I didn’t see him come in.” You explained. “Bokuto is not here either.” Meian hummed.

“I’ll give them a call before we go up to our room, they are always late to these things.” 

“They are always late.” You corrected him and he laughed. “See you at the party.” You said before making your way to the elevator, wanting nothing but to get to your room and take a shower. 

Your room was rather big, but definitely not a suite, there were two beds, a desk and a closet right beside the bathroom door, and you had a really nice view of the city. Once you hung up your dress you walked to the window and stared at the city, the sunset claiming the sky and the city lights started to shine brighter. You missed Tokyo. Is not like Osaka was boring or anything, but Tokyo brought memories from your first days of college and all the friends you left behind. Sighing, you turned back and opened your suitcase to get the things you needed to shower and get ready.  

You styled your hair right after showering and did your makeup heavier than usual, you needed to be ready at least two hours before the actual party to have a small meeting with Hideko and the other teams management and make it in time for the red carpet. Struggling to zip your dress by yourself and accepting that you got half a size too small with your shoes again, you were at the door adjusting your earpiece, holding your clutch bag under your arm just in time to meet Hideko and the Jackals assistant coach in the elevator. “The red carpet shouldn’t take long, I’m trying to call everyone so they can get in at once, Y/N I’ll leave them to you.” Hideko ran you through. “Two minutes on the mark, two or three questions and done, you get in once they are all set.” 

“Got it.” You assured her.

“Great.” She sighed in relief. “There’s an after party tomorrow, the big boss wants to have brunch with everyone.” She emphasized the word ‘brunch’ to make it sound fancier and she rolled her eyes. “It is mandatory.” She said before you could ask. 

“I’ll be there then.” The door opened and you stepped out to meet a few people that told you the same thing Hideko said earlier, you talked to some acquaintances from other teams that were told to manage the red carpet along with you. 

“I’m going to strangle them, every single one of those volleyball players.” Hideko gripped her phone in her hands and you laughed. “They are all going to be late.” She massaged her temples and stomped her heels loudly, you could tell her stress was getting the best out of her. “Can you call Atsumu? I’m sure he’ll pick up if he sees it is you.” You complied to her request and dialed Atsumu’s number and turned the speaker on. After three rings he greeted you. 

“Hey, beautiful.” Your cheeks turned pink at the nickname.

“You can flirt later, Romeo, now tell me why you won’t pick up your damn phone.” She gritted her teeth and you cringed. She walked away with your phone as she gave Atsumu instructions to gather all of his teammates and meet her at the lobby. She gave you back your phone and practically ran to the lobby to wait for them. You decided to kill time talking to some people from the event management. After twenty minutes or so, the reporters and paparazzis were lined up in front of the step and repeat and you heard Hideko calling you from your earpiece. ‘They are ready, we go first. I’ll send them one by one, remember, they go first and then their plus one.’ 

You got yourself in position to receive the players, Inunaki was the first to walk in, you smiled at him and walked right behind him, setting him on the mark and stepping aside to let the photographers do their job. Repeating the same process with everyone from the team and their partners, you were ready to set the last three players, Atsumu, Bokuto and Sakusa. 

“You look so good, Y/N!” Bokuto exclaimed when he saw you, Akaashi trailing behind. 

“You two look amazing too!” You checked their outfits up and down. Both of them had tuxedos, Bokuto wore a dark grey suit that matched his hair and Akaashi a classic jet black, hair slicked back and their colognes mixed if you were standing too close.

“Akaashi helped me with my tie.” He said proudly and looked at his boyfriend who smiled back at him. 

“Are you alright?” Akaashi asked. 

“I must look rough, huh?” You chuckled and he rolled his eyes. “My shoes are killing me and I walked on this carpet twenty times already, I don’t think I’ll make it to the end of the night.” You held Bokuto’s bicep. “You ready?” You asked and they both nodded and you guided them to the marks on the step and repeat, Bokuto answered all of the questions cheerfully, excited for his nominations. Once he was done and you were at the entrance, Akaashi tapped your shoulder and made you look back. 

You saw Atsumu talking with Sakusa, their tall figures standing out from the crowd of distressed staff surrounding them, you made sure Bokuto and Akaashi were in before walking to them. Atsumu noticed you coming up to him and shamelessly checked you out —you weren’t that subtle either— smiling brightly once you were in front of him. “Who wants to go first?” You asked. 

“I’ll do it, I want to get over with this as soon as possible.” Kiyoomi huffed, taking his mask off and throwing it in the nearest trash can. “Let's go.” As always you walked him to the mark and waited for him to answer a few questions. Kiyoomi was a great actor, his stance and expression changed as soon as he faced the interviewers, answering calmly and politely. Atsumu was laughing his ass off, knowing that his friend was most likely planning how to get away from the ceremony, maybe faking a headache or even a fainting. You signaled Atsumu to start walking as Sakusa said his goodbyes to the press, you stepped back when Atsumu made it to the white cross mark on the floor and announced you were done with the red carpet on your radio. 

All of the reporters called for Atsumu, yelling questions and complimenting him, he smiled lazily with his hands in his pockets. 

“No plus one tonight, Miya?”  Atsumu laughed at the question.

“My mom was busy” A few of them laughed with him, but it was barely noticeable, the sounds of clicks and flashes from the cameras filled the area. 

“A young man like you showing alone at these events is hard to believe, you sure you don’t have a special someone, Miya-senshu?” 

Atsumu looked at you for less than a second and you saw clearly how his smile widened. “Maybe next time, guys.” He said, looking at you once again waiting for his queue to go, you nodded and he made his way to the main entrance, you following behind. “You look stunning, by the way.” He said as he walked past you when you held the door open for him to get in, you stared at his back until he was out of sight. Hideko dismissed you after that, so you could enjoy the party with the rest of the staff, she promised to join you later to have a drink because according to her, you deserved it. 

The rest of the teams invited to the ceremony were still coming in, but the salon was already filled with people, from sponsors to team owners, and some volleyball legends you recognized from the countless rambles Bokuto and Atsumu absorbed you in. It was different, it felt different, it wasn’t until that moment you realized the turn your career took after joining the team, it was crazy to think that you were part of this world now. A few taps on your shoulder were enough to snap you back to reality, Aran and Hana greeted you warmly and they looked amazing with Aran’s tie matching Hana’s red dress. “I think I’ll never get used to this.” She said and you agreed. Aran got abducted by some other players and you were left alone with her, the bar was conveniently close to you, so you opted to get something to drink to start the night. “Where’s Atsumu?” She asked. 

“I have no idea, he walked in and I lost him, maybe with the rest of the team” You pointed to a table near the center where most of the team members sat, waiting for the ceremony to start. He was indeed sitting with coach Foster and Barnes, laughing fondly and having their first glass of wine. You smiled to yourself in satisfaction, everything was going well, and hopefully everyone would take an award home. 

“That man over there is totally checking you out.” Hana said and you turned your head back to see her. “To your left.” As soon as you looked where she told you, you felt your soul leave your body and come back right after. 

“I’ll be back in a second.” You announced and walked towards the man that was ‘totally checking you out’. “Don’t you know staring is rude?” 

“Oh shut up, I couldn’t recognize you from here.” He defended himself. “I forgot my glasses at home.” You hugged him.

“You’ll  never learn.” Giggling he nudged your shoulder and stepped back to have a better view of your face. “My friend thought you were checking me out.” 

“Come on, I have higher standards.” He teased. “Where 's Bokuto? He said to meet him here earlier.” 

“He’s with the team, over there.” You pointed with your head and he hummed when he saw the grey haired man standing next to his boyfriend, talking with people you didn’t knew. You caught a glance of his smirk before he said:

“Does everyone here greet you with death stares or is it only that guy walking over here?”  Kuroo asked. You turned your head back to see Atsumu approaching you, pushing past all the people that tried to intersect him on his way to you. 

“Hey, uh, Hideko is looking for you.” He lied, you looked at him weird, you were pretty sure that Hideko was busy talking with the event management. 

“That’s weird, she would’ve rang me if she needed me.” You said showing your radio. Picking up on his jealousy tantrum by the way he was standing protectively in front of you, you grabbed his arm and pushed him to the side and made him turn around. “Kuroo, this is Miya Atsumu. Tsumu, this is my best friend Kuroo, the one I talked you about before.” Atsumu’s frown softened a bit but he was still suspicious — and jealous— about Kuroo and his smug grin. 

“Kuroo Tetsuro, I work with the institution.” He extended his hand and Atsumu did the same. 

“When you say it like that you almost sound important.” You mocked.

“That’s because I am important, baby.” Kuroo said, knowing exactly what he was doing by using that pet name. “Now, I’ll leave you both to it, I need to talk with Bokuto.” He excused himself and you were left alone with Atsumu, with your hand still on his arm, you walked him to the bar  where Hana waited for you.

“What was that about?” You asked. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I saw a suspicious man near you and I thought you needed help.” He shrugged. 

“Yeah, right, there’s nothing suspicious about Kuroo, he’s an idiot, don’t mind him.” You reassured him. “That was my best friend, not a man checking me out.” You said to Hana when you made it back to her side.

“He looks like a pervert.” Hana admitted. 

“See? I’m not the only one who thought there was something wrong with him.” Atsumu looked at you with wide eyes. The lights dimmed and the last call before the ceremony started was heard. “This is going to start soon, let’s take our seats.” You accompanied Hana to the Red Falcons table and then headed to your team’s seats with Atsumu’s hand in yours at all times, unbuttoning his jacket he sat right beside you.

“Are you nervous?” You asked him. 

“Not in the slightest.” He lied to you for the second time that night. He was terrified, he didn’t wanted to lose the award, especially in front of you.  

“I hope you prepared an acceptance speech.”  He sighed soundly and squeezed your hand. 

“No need, Tobio-kun is here, that award is his.” He sounded defeated, it was your turn to give his hand a squeeze. While you knew many sides of Atsumu he didn’t show often, you weren’t familiar with his pessimist persona, it was a sight you didn’t like at all, defeat wasn’t a good look on him. 

“Stop that, award or not, you are still one of the best setters in the country and no one can change that.” He let go of your hand to call the waiter to get you whatever you wanted to drink, whining for your long forgotten gimlet you left behind when you were talking to Kuroo, you asked for water. “You made me waste a drink.”

“I didn’t do anything, you are the forgetful one here.”  Your banter was cut short by Adriah’s voice, the ceremony started without the two of you noticing. 

“It’s an honor to be hosting the twenty-seventeen Volleyball Association Awards. Tonight the best players of all three divisions will be rewarded for their performance during the last two seasons. How are you feeling tonight, Komori?” Adriah looked at the EJP Raijin’s Libero. 

“Thank you for that introduction, Adriah, and I’m really excited to see who will win in each category, and speaking of, our categories for tonight are: coach, setter, middle blocker, wing spiker and libero of the year; best captain, and best new comer.” A screen behind both hosts showed the nominations at the same time Komori listed them. 

“Both men's and women’s leagues will be presented by our wonderful co-hosts, let’s get started with our first nomination, we leave you with Tsukasa Iizuna from the Deseo Hornets.” Adriah and Komori walked out the stage after shaking hands with Iizuna. He introduced the nominees for wing spiker of the year.   

After an hour or so, Inunaki was the only one in the team with an award, sadly Meian lost to Fukuro Hirugami and Suna won best newcomer over Bokuto and Sakusa. “Presenting the setter of the year nominees, Kanoka Amanai, wing spiker of the women’s National Volleyball Team for the 2016 olympics and the Hisamitsu Springs.” Komori introduced a tall girl in a beautiful yellow dress, she smiled nervously and held the envelope with the winner tightly. 

“A lot of people often think that us spikers do all the job at scoring points, but the truth is, that setters are the ones that rule the court from both sides, we wouldn’t be anything without our setters. That’s why I’m honored to present to you the nominees for the setter of the year award.” The screen in the back showed pictures and the names from each nominee, Atsumu’s name right beside Kageyama’s. 

“And the winner is…” Kanoka said, opening the envelope. “Miya Atsumu, from the MSBY Black Jackals.” She read after a few seconds and everyone cheered. Atsumu looked at you with wide eyes and hugged you instinctively. The rest of the team practically dragged him out of his seat to receive his award. He almost tripped trying to hug Aran on his way to the stage but he made it eventually. He took the golden statue in one hand and stood in front of the microphone with his mouth agape and laughing nervously. 

“Wow.” He said, now wishing he prepared an acceptance speech. “This is unbelievable, really. I didn’t expect to win something like this in my first year playing professionally.” He looked at the statue and then back to the crowd. “ Sometimes I push myself too hard for the sake of my team and the weight of losing is always devastating, especially playing this position, but I’m thankful to everyone. My teammates, coach Foster and our management for trusting me and pushing me to do my best. I also want to thank my friends and my brother, who is not here tonight, but he was the best spiker I’ve ever had and the one that trained with me everyday since we were kids, I know he is going to see this, so, thank you ‘Samu, I wouldn’t be here without you.”  He was talking really fast and barely breathing. “This means a lot to me, thank you so much.” He finished and the crowd cheered for him, your table was the loudest of them all. 

He walked back to his seat where everyone waited to congratulate him but he went straight to you and hugged you again, tighter this time. “I told you that you were going to win. I’m so proud of you.” You said before breaking the hug. 

“Thank you.” His eyes were watery and his lip quivered. You made him turn to celebrate with his teammates before he cried and everyone gave him aggressive pats on his back and teased him for being so cheesy. He was happy. So happy he couldn’t stop smiling even when the ceremony ended. 

The party went on smoothly but it was quite boring, everyone wandered around the room talking and congratulating the winners, you grew tired of following Hideko around, big parties weren’t your thing if you were honest. You excused yourself and found your way to a huge balcony that worked as an outdoor smoking lounge. The cold air against your skin made you regret your decisions but it was too late to back down. You placed your hands on the railing and tried to get used to the freezing weather, looking down, you saw a restaurant across the street, the customers wore hats and drank happily celebrating the new year. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. After your realization you checked the hour. 

11:47 P.M.

“What are you doing here?”  Atsumu asked and closed the door behind him. “I’ve been looking for you.” 

“I needed some air.” You stated. 

“Aren’t you cold?” You felt his breath on your ear and smiled. 

“Not really.” You said turning around. He knew you were lying.“Why are you here? You should be celebrating.” You fixed his tie as you spoke, your eyes met his. Taking a better look of his face you smiled to yourself. Atsumu was stunning. Sure he looked good everyday but tonight it was different, it was maybe the tuxedo  or the victorious smile gracing his face, he was the definition of beauty, in its purest form; happiness. 

“Got bored, and I wanted to ask you something.” He explained and placed his hands on their usual spot on your hips. 

“Oh god, please tell me you are not asking me out on New Year’s Eve.” you hooked your arms around his neck and played with the back of his hair. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, now shut up and let me make this special.” He tried to bring you closer to him and looked at the moon for a second. “I know it has been hard for you to give yourself another chance to live your life like you want to, and you don’t know how thankful I am for being a part of it. I also know your last boyfriend was an asshole and hurted you beyond repair” 

“Well that’s a way to put it.” You interrupted him and laughed.

“Let me finish.” He laughed along with you. “I promise you, I will treat you so much better if you let me. I know maybe I’m not what you are looking for but you are all I want.”  He was sincere, you could tell by the way his eyes pierced into you, eagerly waiting for you to say something. 

“I don’t know where you got that from, but you are wrong, ‘Tsumu. You are all I want too.” You looked at him with the same intensity but you had tears in your eyes. He didn’t waste another second and kissed you. It was long, and passionate, and loving. He wanted to tell you everything he couldn’t with that kiss. 

He was yours. 

“Now I’m the real winner tonight.” He joked when he pulled apart. 

“Shut up.” You kissed him again before he could say something stupid. 

“Are we interrupting something?” Aran and Suna peaked from the door. “Get in before the countdown starts.” Suna ordered without waiting for an answer, you did as he said, walking hand in hand with Atsumu, something that wasn’t strange for you but this time it was different, because he was yours. 

You had to walk faster to stand with your friends and some team members and the countdown started. Ten. Everyone chanted excitedly to receive the new year. 

Nine, eight, seven, six.

“Ready?” Atsumu asked, staring at you lovingly. 

Five

“I am. But what if I don’t want this to end?” 

Four

“Too late for that, babe, let’s make the most out of this year too.” He kissed the back of your hand and giggled. “Let’s ditch this party first.”

Three

“Please.” You agreed and looked around to spot your friends standing near you with glasses full of champagne.

Two

He brought you closer to him with his hand on the small of your back, lips painfully close to yours.

One

“Happy new year, Y/N.” 

“Happy new year, ‘Tsumu.”  With that said, he gave you a New Year’s kiss you’ll never forget, once again telling you that he was yours. 

And you were his.

(a/n: look who finally came back!! the worst writer ever. so uhm, i literally have no excuse this time, depression has been kicking my ass lately and i had a huge creative block, there was nothing going on in my head, it was just me and mitski against the world. anyways, there you have it, iwaizumi being miserable and a wholesome seijoh reunion without oikawa because he is booked and busy. ALSO !!! ATSUMU!!! WHAT THE HECK MARRY ME IM SO IN LOVE WITH HIM. and no i don’t know what complying to canon is, im sorry kageyama but it was atsumu’s moment to shine, you’ll get it next year... or not. tell me if you liked this chapter, i love reading y’all. i hope everyone is safe and healthy, remember to take time for yourself and that atsumu is the only man ever!!)

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TAGLIST (closed): @aonenthusiast @wiseeggspickleslime​ @koushisun​ @airheadpillar​ @sunflwrsandprettyskies​ @bbkiyoomi​ @daphnxy​ @shephard17895​ @avatarkyoshithewarrior​ @for-rebloggery​ @vv-bee999-vv vv @fi16ns @asdfghjkl7things @glassykaashi @strawhatshepard @hawkssnugget @msby-kei @toobsessedsstuff @a-moon-fairy @cuteissei @ramblingsofagoofyperson @pinoyrella @kiyoomisimp

[cno-inbminor]

a/n: drabble dump for our boy kuroo -- i love him loads and think about him endlessly. i also apologize beforehand for the awkward ending bc i’m terrible at ending things. hope you all enjoy! gonna go knock back a melatonin and sleep my wooziness away

w/c: ~2.4k; some angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol

you’re avoiding tetsurou, and he’s keen on figuring out why. college!au, friends to lovers.

“you’re not as slick as you think, y’know.”

instantly, a shiver creeps up your spine, electrifying you in quick, tiny bursts. those eight, nine words were more than enough to let you know who was standing behind you, peering over your shoulder in an effort to catch your gaze. his voice made your heart clench and lungs fight for oxygen – you begin to curse the high, intellectual level of tetsurou’s observational skills. you just wanted to make it another day without seeing his face outside of class, opting more for longer walks and just looking back to see the back of his stylishly mussed hair in the far distance. it frustrates you how much you’ve used the word ‘infuriating’ when it comes to him, but there’s no other better word you can think of without having to consult the thesaurus.

you have a few seconds to dart your eyes around, desperately searching for a way to escape. your productivity typically thrives within the library, but he’s always there, so with lots of pleading and promises of baked goods and decent coffee, you were able to borrow a close friend’s ID, a graduate student, and access the graduate resource room in a less traveled hallway. and in the expanse of that area, you’ve tucked yourself away into the back corner behind some shelves where almost no one visits. but it leaves you cornered and vulnerable – no matter which direction, in combination with his long legs, tetsurou would catch up to you in a heartbeat. you thought you had finally found a way to permanently escape his grasp, but apparently not.

much like you, he’s not supposed to be able to access this area. after all, you’re both senior undergrads so –

“how did you get in here?” you quietly hiss. you’re pretty sure you’d be booted out if you made any sound above 15 decibels, and you’re not about to let tetsurou ruin this haven for you.

there’s a rustle of clothing, a hand that rests on the back of your seat, and the hairs on the nape of your neck spike, before a delicate whisper informs, “you’re not the only one with grad student friends, love.”

if you weren’t so focused on keeping yourself rigid, body absolutely understanding of the effect that this man has on you, you definitely would’ve shivered from the proximity. but the gentleness in his tone sends you back to three weeks ago – you’re no longer under a fluorescent light tucked between cream-colored walls, but rather basked in a somewhat garish hue of crimson. your veins were tinged with alcohol, the substance leaving you feeling like you were on clouds, a silly smile breaking across your face uncontrollably. other bodies surrounded you but the only one you were focused on was the one in front of you, following your swaying movements to the beat of the music coming through someone’s speakers. even in the warmth of the house, tetsurou’s hands on your waist seared your skin, branding the feeling on you for eternity. his eyes twinkled with apparent affection, unbridled and screaming at you for you to understand the line he wanted to so desperately cross, that the alcohol pushed it behind his efforts to deny himself the one thing he’s been searching for in all these years.  

“i’m a little drunk, but fuck, you have no idea how bad i wanna kiss you,” he had murmured just loud enough into your ear, then ghosting his lips over the shell of it. everything around you dissolved into a blur as you could only focus on his breaths and the tightening of his grasp on you. his confession wasn’t completely unwarranted – not at all.

tetsurou and you had met in the quantitative analysis lab freshman year, having been assigned as partners for the semester just by how the ta’s drew the seating chart. he was a friendly, kind soul – had saved your ass multiple times from overshooting your titrations, prevented multiple beakers and graduated cylinders from falling over, always down to compare numbers to help ensure that neither of you were fucking up too hard.

coincidentally, the two of you were registered to the same ochem lab the next year and immediately gravitated towards each other, grateful to find some familiarity in all the anxiety. he witnessed your breakdown mid-lab, did his best to comfort you and salvage your sample so there was enough for recrystallization because you somehow got landed with a shitty, leaking separatory funnel, and stayed back with you when you had fallen behind in the cleanup process. from then on, it was a weekly habit to study together and work on your lab journals and reports together, not taking long to become close friends.

tetsurou did his best to keep his growing feelings at bay, knowing that you had explicitly mentioned swearing off relationships as you tried to figure out your future first. he wasn’t oblivious enough to think that you didn’t feel anything for him whatsoever – you were stubborn and tenacious at best. the house party at miya atsumu’s was simply a suggestion for the both of you to relax after a brutal midterm in your inorganic chemistry course, to let loose and treat yourself. he really hadn’t meant to say what he said, but just looked so good, so lovely and beautiful and enthralling, and you were looking at him like he hung the stars and moon in the sky – he knows he’s sent that same look to you multiple times when you weren’t looking, completely sober and unfazed.

he couldn’t stop himself from leaning close into you that night and you hadn’t stopped in – he knows he should’ve resisted, but feeling your soft lips against his was easily one of the top ten highlights of his college career, and his love for you only surged beyond his hold, overwhelming him to the point where all he could think about was nothing but holding your cheek in the palm of his hand so he could get a better angle and let himself indulge just this once.

that’s all it was – kissing and kissing in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor until there was no more oxygen left in either of your lungs. like a decent human being, he dropped you off at your apartment and bid you goodnight, hoping that you wouldn’t forget all the events that had transpired. and maybe, just maybe, he wished that you would let it happen again, that you could make him the exception in your plans.

evidently, you did remember it, because suddenly your responses to his texts were delayed and dry. you were picking up extra shifts, showing up to class at the very last minute, and leaving as soon as the professor dismissed you, allowing practically no room for him to make small talk. and while he would usually pass you in the halls of the chem building at some point, you were always too far from him and scurrying away in a different direction. tetsurou did his best to give you your space, but the less he saw of you, the more nervous and frustrated he grew. there was a wrench thrown into his daily routine, and your presence had always managed to bring some peace to him. so when he realized that you had truly abandoned your usual study spot in the library a week and a half later, he set himself on a mission to find out exactly where you were hiding.

it honestly had been sheer luck that he saw your figure ducking around into a hallway he’s never bothered to go down, and by the time he caught up, the door to the graduate resource room had just closed on your and there was no way he could get in without some help. luckily, his mentor who had stayed at the university for their phd was pretty nonchalant about letting him borrow it for a few days, preferring to study at home or in a coffee shop off-campus themselves.

he knew that since you were hiding, you were probably going to be in the most inconspicuous spot possible. so while there was some time dedicated to navigating the new maze of an area, he immediately felt a sense of relief when he saw your back hunched over your notes, hair tied up into a messy bun, and your laptop open with a spotify playlist.

after you’re done reminiscing, you begin to pack your stuff up, opting to just nor respond to tetsurou and ignoring the pleasant sensation that his term of endearment for you brought. he pulls back and stands straight to give you some room, but the tapping of his foot against the tile floor speaks to his blooming agitation at your silence. you’re still wordless as you weave between the shelves to the exit, knowing that the man plaguing your dreams is not far behind. the game of ‘follow the leader’ (or is it ‘cat and mouse’?) continues until you both have exited the main door, and right before you can walk down the granite steps, tetsurou seizes the opportunity to run ahead of you and stand in your way.

“tetsu, please,” you sigh, avoiding his piercing stare by fiddling with the sleeves of your jacket. “is there something you need?”

“you can’t play coy with me,” he chastises, bending down slightly in hopes that you’ll finally look at him. “you know why i’m here.”

it’s a bad habit of yours to nibble on the inside of your lips when you’re searching for the right things to say. tetsurou only picked up on it just last year – the action itself is very subtle to the outside viewer, and he hadn’t been paying close enough attention back then. “don’t bullshit me right now.”

“do we have to do this now?” you whine a bit.

“yes, or else i’m never gonna get you to talk to me. come on, you don’t do this, love.”

“what do you mean?”

“you’re running away. that’s pretty cowardly, don’t you think? you’ve had 3 weeks—”

you start to walk forward and around his tall, lanky figure. “i’m not humoring you with this—”

“with what—”

“—you’re doing that provoking thing, you’re trying to get me to think that i’m wrong in avoiding you—”

“so you have been avoiding me—”

“i said not now!” you protest in a raised voice, path once again blocked. tears of frustration are beginning to build in the corners of your eyes, and you’re cursing yourself for feeling so weak in this moment. part of you wants nothing more than to run into his arms.

it’s dead quiet for a few seconds – the ambient noise of the wind and the occasional passing car this late at night fail to make themselves known over the pounding of blood in your ears. only tetsurou’s first knuckle underneath your chin to raise you up grounds you, and you can no longer avoid his gaze. small crests of guilt wash over you as you recognize the uncharacteristic brokenness in his eyes – the last three weeks must’ve been much harder on him than you thought.

“just hear me out for a few minutes, okay? you can make your decision then.”

he takes your nod as a signal to continue, but also softening a bit at how nervous you look.

“i’m in love with you,” he softly confesses, a smile of defeat gracing his complexion. “and i have been for a while. i don’t think i’m bullshitting when i say i think you feel something for me, too, but i knew it wasn’t in your plans. didn’t wanna push or force you into making a decision when you weren’t ready. so i held back – but i couldn’t help it at the party, and…i’m sorry, love. i really am.”

tetsurou doesn’t miss the flash of hurt that crosses your eyes. “so does that mean you regret it?” you bite out, nails clenching and digging into the fabric of your jacket sleeves. he shakes his head.

“i don’t regret kissing you at all – it’s all i’ve wanted to do for the last two and a half years. but i’m just sorry that i did it without your explicit, sober permission. i went against your wishes in a time of vulnerability, and that’s pretty shitty of me – i’m not gonna excuse myself either just because i was a little drunk, so i hope you’re able to forgive me.”

he watches you sniffle and fight the grin that’s trying to creep across your face. “someone had their shot of respect women juice this morning, didn’t they?” you chokingly tease.

“five shots directly injected into my veins, every morning,” he jokes back, thumb sweeping over to catch your falling tears. “but i mean it though – i’m really sorry.”

“you’re forgiven, and i appreciate that more than you know. but if i’m being honest…it was something i’ve wanted to do for a while, too. i was just really scared because it was so unexpected and i wasn’t sure if i was ready for our relationship to change, or like if i would be emotionally available enough for you, y’know?” you blubber, hand reaching up to rest against his on your cheek.

“hey—”

“i really want this to work out.” tetsurou can hear your voice shake, and he’s sure you’re almost trembling. “you’re one of my best friends – i can’t lose you, tetsu. and what about grad school? what if we end up too far away from each other and video calls aren’t enough? what if you get tired of me or—”

“i know you hate it when i interrupt, but honestly (y/n), you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. i’m gonna do everything i can to make this work, too, mmk?”

“okay,” you whisper. “okay.”

his thumb gently sweeps back and forth against your cheek for a little bit before speaking up again. “not to ruin the moment, but do i have permission to kiss you now?” his eyes shine despite the midnight sky, and you can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your chest.

tetsurou swears up and down that your kiss in response is much, much sweeter than the one at the party, and he can’t wait to see what the future holds for you two.

[anotheronechicagobog]

Rangers, Lead the Way

Written by: @anotheronechicagobog

Warnings: Swearing, canon compliant violence, I had to use a lot of material from the actual episode, mention of domestic abuse

tagging: @detectiveinchicago​

A/N: So, this is a new series. Basically, OA Zidan (FBI), Jay Halstead (Chicago PD), and Kenny Crosby (FBI: Most Wanted) all went to Ranger training together and kept in touch, something that was useful when they couldn’t be the one to keep their ‘partner’ safe and need to call one of the others for assistance when their ‘paartners’ are temporarily working with another member of the trio.

OA wasn't a name that he'd heard in a long time. They weren't in the same unit but they were in Rangers training together. Jay was one of the only two people there who didn't have it out for him solely because of his religion, while he was shocked to find a Muslim among the ranks at first, he quickly got over it. Not only did he trust that his superiors wouldn't let a terrorist into the army at all, let alone Ranger training, but OA was a U.S. citizen, and had a very personal hatred for everyone who sullied the name of Islam and used it for violence and their own personal gain. So he and Kenny Crosby befriended OA despite the shock and ignorance from their brothers and sisters in arms. They studied together, trained together, ate together, and bunked together. When they'd all been given different assignments they made sure to stay in touch. And they continued to call, email, and text each other after they'd all been discharged.

When Hailey got temporarily assigned to New York Jay was... Well, it's hard to describe how he felt. It was such a nightmarish combination of devastated, terrified, and heartbroken. It was like an icy hand had enclosed around his throat and was slowly squeezing, painfully closing his throat, all while his heart was being dissected out of his chest by another. Not only was he reliving one of the most traumatic moments of his life all over again, but Hailey was going to be in the field without him. She was going to be in danger without him there to watch her back.

And since Hailey was amazing, she could tell just by looking at him that his mind was dropping down into a dark place faster than Alice tumbled into Wonderland. "It's just temporary. And I'll be okay, Jay."

"Hailey..."

"I'm going to put in my time and come back as quickly as possible. It's okay. It's all going to be okay." Hailey's words didn't reassure him in the slightest. How could they, when they didn't even reassure Hailey?

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

"Special Agent Zidan."

"Hey OA, it's Jay."

"Hey man, how are you?"

"Honestly, not great."

"What's wrong?"

"My- uh my partner..."

"Hailey Upton."

"Yeah. She's getting detailed out to the FBI for a bit. I found out that she's getting assigned to your unit."

"That makes sense, my partner's doing a UC detail right now, we'll probably be partnered together."

"OA... Watch out for her. Please. She is strong and more than capable of defending herself, and you quite frankly, but- she's my- I..."

"Don't worry, Jay. I'll have her back. She'll make it back to you."

"Thank you. Seriously, you have no idea how much this means to me."

OA looked at the now-empty desk that had been causing his heart to ache at the sight of it. His shoulder sagged at the pain that was pulling in his chest, the dark fog that filled his mind whenever he started to think, started to wonder, caused his head to throb. "Actually, I know exactly how you feel."

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

"You will be partnered with Agent Zidan."

"Hi, I'm OA."

"Hi. Hailey."

"Nice to meet you."

"You too."

"Listen up, everyone. This is Detective Hailey Upton from Chicago PD. She will be with us for the next few weeks as part of our interagency training program."

"All right, so let's, uh, direct our attention to the screens here. Found the body of a young John Doe in St. Nicholas Park. A hundred yards from Alexander Hamilton's house. Federal land, federal case- and no, it is not where Aaron Burr shot him. The famed duel took place in-- anyone, anyone? Weehawken, New Jersey. Kristen knew. Unfortunately, there's far less clarity in the present homicide case. Evidence of torture and abuse, the victim was brown-skinned, but there was no other evidence of a hate crime. So let's dig in, get to work, start filling in the blanks. Yeah? Go."

"You ready?"

"Yeah."

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

"So, Chicago PD? Should I be nervous?"

"Nervous?"

"You guys have been in the news a lot and not for good reasons."

"Uh, yeah, we've had some issues, but they're being addressed. It's a great place. I'm proud to be a part of it. The next time you want to insult me, just come out and say it, you don't need to disguise it as a compliment. This car right here?"

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's just my way of saying we do things differently here."

"Mhmm."

"Just trying to keep it real." And keep you from getting hurt so that Halstead doesn't develop a full head of grey hair. "So, you spend much time in New York?"

"Nah, first time here."

"Any early observations?"

"Pizza's too thin. It's like a cracker with sauce on it. Just trying to keep it real."... Okay, so maybe it would've been nice if Jay had warned him that she had an axe to grind, but he could make do.

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

"If I hear you're harassing any more immigrants, I'm gonna come back here, and I'm gonna break your arm. Do you understand?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

"I forwarded Kristen the pictures of Aman. She'll get us a street block number based on the license plates in the background."

"Just like that, huh?"

"The FBI, Upton. Our tech resources are pretty sick. Look, it's not a big deal, but now that you're working with us, just try and be a little bit more careful. If that guy Prichard calls the Bureau complaining that you threatened to use force..."

"Look, man, I don't need a lesson on how to talk to people, all right?"

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't get me wrong. I have no problem with someone breaking that idiot's arm, it's just... It's just that the Bureau is hardcore, and they take that stuff really seriously."

"You're right. I'm sorry. If he files a beef, I'll eat it and make sure you're clear. All right?"

"Appreciate that. But what the hell's a beef?"

"It's an expression."

"I'm kidding. Kristen said Aman's house is around this area."

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

So, Hailey is a badass. That was pretty damn cool to witness. Sidenote; Jay is going to murder him.

Hailey was fine, more than fine, she actually saved his ass. But that didn't matter, Jay had trusted him to protect Hailey and hadn't failed, but he hadn't done the best job either.

They'd been searching a house, and after coming down the stairs he completely missed an assailant in the kitchen. But Hailey hadn't. No, she saw him and got him out of the line of fire. He provided cover fire while she jumped back over to the wall at the end of the stairs. OA tensed, more than usual when he was in a firefight unless Maggie was- nope, not going there, the point is, he didn't miss the way a bullet penetrated the wall a few centimetres from Hailey's head.

"Halstead."

"Don't be mad-"

"Oh god-"

"Hailey's fine. One-hundred percent fine, not even a scratch. We just, uh, we got into a shootout with an assailant. He got a shot off close to her head. She's fine- more than fine! I swear! She actually saved my ass in that altercation! And I was covering her the whole time!"

"... That's it? That's a pretty normal day for us, OA. She's okay, you're okay... So, everything, is... Okay. And seriously, thanks again, man. I can't even begin to tell you how much this means to me. I know that she can take care of herself and the others around her, but it's hard when I'm not the one there to have her six. So I really appreciate that I know and trust the person who is."

"Well, I'm glad that you're not gonna come at me like you did when I stole one of the cookies your mom made from your care package."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want a repeat of that."

"Plus, I know how it feels to... Not know. My partner is under right now and..."

"You're going out of your mind?"

"More than you can believe. I can't eat or sleep, and every time my phone buzzes I think it's a death notification instead of an emergency call from work."

"Sounds like you've got your own Hailey. You'll have to introduce me to Maggie one day."

"Yeah, I will. And Ken's definitely gonna have to introduce Hana. We have heard far too much about her to not even be able to put a face to the name."

"Tell me about it. Sometimes I regret our 'no search' rule, but then I remember how much we embarrass each other."

"By the way, thank you."

"Huh? For what?"

"For saving my ass back there. In the house."

"Oh. Okay. Cool. You're welcome."

"Halstead, how much do get shot at, exactly?"

"Why are you asking?"

"She pushed me out of the path of a bullet and when I thanked her afterwards she treated it like it was nothing."

"... I mean, there's not exactly a whole lot I can do about people trying to kill us..."

"Jay. Dude."

"I can try to stop being 'idiotically reckless' as Hailey calls it, but I'm not trying to be a hero or a dumbass or anything, it's just that... If it's not me getting hurt..."

"...It's her."

"Yeah."

"We're both whipped, aren't we?"

"Oh, ridiculously whipped. The desk Sergeant at my precinct is constantly making fun of me for it."

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

"Just got ballistics back on the slugs fired at OA and Upton. They match the bullets that killed Aman, but get this; they also match the bullets pulled from a drive-by murder victim two months ago."

"Could they ID a suspect yet?"

"Yeah, arrested him too. Name is Santiago Gonzalez, known associate of the Latin Players. He's being held at MDC pending trial."

"Latin Players. That's a Chicago gang."

"Hmm, looks like they're expanding."

"So the Latin Players killed someone, they get arrested, go to jail, and the gun

stays on the street."

"And the new owner uses said gun to kill Aman, a studious Indian engineering student?"

"Right. What are we missing? How are these two murders connected?"

"Have OA and Upton pay a visit to Inmate Gonzalez. Maybe he can help us answer that question."

"Right."

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

"So this guy, Gonzalez, is originally from Chicago. Runs with the Latin Players, so maybe you should take the lead on this one. But go hard on him." Hailey and Gonzales were from the same city, same blood, this was her turf, and OA wanted to make sure that he abided by that.

"You want a reaction?" Hailey seemed to get exactly what he meant, what he wanted, but she also seemed hesitant, like she needed more than clarification. It was like she needed permission.

"A big one. Big enough to force him to call his people."

"I think I can do that." And just like that, she had a smirk in her voice and was walking ahead of him. OA could see the wheels turning in her head and a coolness to her features let him know that she'd come up with a game plan. He didn't know if he should be afraid or not.

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

"Where's the gun you used in the drive-by?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." They were less than a minute into the interrogation and he was already annoyed. Why did these guys always have to be so smug? He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and just let Hailey do her thing, only popping in to keep the flow going. "One of your friends used it to kill a civilian last night."

"Used it again this afternoon on us. Fired off ten rounds."

"Like I said, I don't know what you're talking about." OA had to hold in a sigh.

"You're staring 20 to life on the case you're riding. Give us the name of the person you gave the gun to, and maybe I'll be able to get you a reduced sentence."

"Get my ass, blondie." OA quickly debated the pros and cons of stepping in. Honestly, this guy would probably just make him angrier with his smug attitude and sexist remarks, plus Hailey wasn't even phased. She was still in control, and she actually seemed a little... Bored.

"I'm not a fed like him. I'm Chicago police."

"So what?"

"Means I play by different rules. Also means I know the names of all the shot callers in the Latin Players. Tomorrow morning, we're gonna do a warrant sweep. Means a lot of people you know are gonna get arrested."

"That's not my problem."

"But it is. Because I'm gonna make sure that they know you are the snitch who gave them up."

"Now, you know nobody's gonna believe that."

"Really? Because in my experience, pissed-off bangers don't do their homework, and if they think you're a snitch, you're a snitch. In the street, rumours become facts like that."

"I'm done talking."

"Alright."

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

"So you think he believed us?"

"I don't know. What?"

"Nothing, you just reminded me of my partner, Maggie, in there."

"Oh."

"In a good way."

"Then thank you."

"Can you cue up the audio feed?" The prison guard nodded back at OA and did as he asked.

"So where is your partner?"

"Uh, she is on an undercover assignment. That I know absolutely nothing about besides the fact that she is gone and unreachable."

"That's gotta be pretty tough."

"Yeah, but she's really good, so she'll be fine."

"We're up." The guard unmuted the computer and moved out of the way so that he and Hailey could see it clearly.

"Yo, just say the word, man. Chicago about to throw that heat."

"What are you talking about?"

Gonzalez sighed. "Police and FBI here sweating me, man."

"About what?"

"That piece that I left behind. I'm guess it's all connected to what happened on the night at Highbridge Park."

"All right, thanks for looking out."

"No doubt."

"Can you trace the number that he called?" OA was ansty, ready to get moving fast before their lead disappeared and from the honed in look in Hailey's eyes he could see she felt the same.

"Payphone up in Washington Heights." The prison guard was curt and efficient, exactly what they needed and OA was silently grateful.

"Okay. Thank you."

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

"I'm guessing that's his girlfriend."

"Hold on. I talked to her at the park, right before we found Ernesto's body." From the way her body tensed OA could tell Hailey wasn't happy she'd let this girl slip through her fingers. He could tell her that it wasn't her fault, no one was even remotely aware of this connection, but he knew that was pointless. Any passionate law enforcement officer would beat themselves over something like this, himself included.

"Ah, and we have a hit off of social rec. Her name is Harper Quinlan, 23 years old, last known address is 84 Groton Street, Queens, New York."

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

"Why were you at the park?" OA sat across from the young woman, dead set on getting all the information she knew. Arman's murder was quickly dissolving into a larger more horrifying crime and he was worried that the poor man who this had all started with would be forgotten and he didn't want to think about why that enraged him so much.

"I told you before. I was walking."

"Or was it to recover the glove that Lucas dropped after he killed his drug supplier?"

"I don't know anything about that."

"We have video of you in the driver's seat of Lucas' Range Rover at Highbridge Park the night that Lucas killed Ernesto Garcia, so you are now an official suspect in a murder investigation. That means no more lying, no more protecting your boyfriend. You either cooperate with us here and now, or you go to prison."

"I'm not gonna help you ruin Lucas' life. I just won't. He's a good person."

"Harper, good people don't sell drugs or kill people."

"Yeah, you don't know him like I do. He's so nice, and... he's sweet... He really loves me."

"Lucas isn't who you think he is, Harper. Protecting him will only get you and more innocent people hurt. Tell me why you think he was in the park that night."

"I'm not gonna help you."

"Are you listening to what I'm saying to you? You're a suspect in a murder investigation here. Lying to protect him makes this worse. You're putting more lives at risk. Be smart. Tell me why you were there that night. Harper, you don't need to go to prison for him." OA knew he wasn't getting anywhere and was trying to think of some other- any other method- to try and get Harper to talk, when Hailey burst into the room. She looked calculated, like she had a plan or idea that needed to be executed exactly or else the worst might befall those she was trying to protect. Which, if he read her character right, was everyone.

"Unlock it."

"What's going on?" Harper was just as confused as he was, but he knew better than to show it.

"Do it. Pull up your texts."

"Oh, my God."

"What does it say?" Hailey already knew, that much was obvious, but whatever was going on needed to be as brutally real as possible to Harper, and voicing it out loud would drive whatever was going on home for Harper.

"'Return the product, or he's dead. You have four hours. Tell your man to meet us at the place we did our first deal.' Oh, my- oh, my God." Harper's sobs quickly took up the space of the interrogation room, it didn't matter that she hadn't seen her father in so long, losing him would devastate her, and the Latin Players knew that well.

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

"Let me take a run at her. I might have an angle to play." OA watched Hailey carefully, trying to make out was she was thinking, what angle she could possibly have, but he hadn't known her nearly long enough for any of that. There was this... Knowing glint in her eyes, and a sort of dark confidence had taken over her aura. She was confident in whatever plan she had, obviously, he just had no way of predicting what it was. In that moment, OA could really see what made Jay all twisted over her. She didn't look excited to break the accomplice of a drug dealer, or eager to impress the FBI. She looked like she was ready to get elbow deep in someone else's mess just for the sake of protecting as many people as possible with her quick wit and razor-sharp intelligence. So he just inclined his head and got ready to watch her work from the other side of the glass.

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

"You're in a tough place right now, Harper. We have video of you at the scene of a murder, which makes you an accessory. You're looking at 15 to 20 years in prison. But if you cooperate, we can help you. We'll talk to the prosecutor, explain why you were there, help him understand the nature of your relationship with Lucas."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know what's going on. He hurts you, doesn't he?"

"No. That's not true. He's a good guy-"

"No, he's not. What are those bruises on your neck? You tried to cover them up, but I can see them. When you first met, I bet he was great. You guys hit it off, you had fun. He was everything you wanted. But then he started chipping away at your friends and your family. So you pop a pill to numb the pain and tell yourself everything's okay, just hoping that the abuse is gonna stop. Harper. It won't. I talked to your dad. He loves you very much. And he needs you right now. He's in a lot of danger. If these guys don't get their drugs back, they will kill him. The only thing that matters now is you helping us to find Lucas, so we can recover the drugs and find your dad." Watching Hailey in the interrogation room really was something else. From the slight waver of her tone, the palpable understanding in her voice that seemed to wrap a crying Harper in the first hug she's had in a long time, he could tell that she was exposing a pain-filled part of herself to this- this girl, this accomplice in drug dealing and murder. And still, she was able to remain professional and in control, and OA could honestly say that her incredible ability to do her job both made his heart ache for her and impressed him far more than he thought she would.

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

They were in the surveillance van, waiting for Harper and the SWAT team to get in to place. What OA was itching to ask her was highly personal. He did not expect her to feel comfortable talking to him about it, but she'd given Harper some of her strength and after revealing something so heart-wrenching, the protective Egyptian older brother in him needed to make sure that she'd left enough for herself. "So, how do you know so much about abuse? I am sorry, I did not mean anything by that."

"No, it's fine. It's all good. Everyone becomes a cop for a reason. I guess that's mine."

"Uh, yeah."

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

"Don't forget, Harper. He wants the cash to get out of town, but we need the location where he first met his dealer. That's where your dad is." OA nodded along to Hailey's instruction, keeping a critical eye on the emotionally distraught Harper.

"Babe. They took my father."

"What are you talking about?"

"That guy that you deal with, they grabbed my father and texted me that they're gonna kill him unless we return the drugs that you took."

"Oh, no, no. I can't- I can't do that."

"They took my father!"

"Look, I feel bad, but they will kill me. Oh, Jesus, don't-"

"Lucas."

"Don't give me the sad eyes look."

"Lucas."

"I'm screwed. Look, I gotta look out for me- for us, you understand?"

"Look, I need to know where you and Ernesto did your first deal 'cause that's where they wanna meet."

"I just told you, I'm not going-"

"I will go! I'll call my uncle. He has a lot of money. Maybe I can negotiate a deal or something."

"I gotta get moving, all right, so give me the money."

"Where did you meet him?"

"Stay strong." Hailey could see her waver, could see her lose her ground and need someone to keep her steady. "Location first, then give him the money."

"Lucas. Lucas. Lucas!"

"I'll call you later on, all right?" Lucas, being the selfish douchebag that he is, grabs the bag of money and moves to book it, leaving his girlfriend who needs him behind.

"Damn it. Move in now!" OA sounded the call and immediately all agents left their posts and honed in on Lucas.

"Lucas!"

"You lying sack of..." Lucas, in an effort to prove that he really is a stellar guy, pulls out a gun and starts shooting at the agents, causing panic and fear in the civilians around them. Really, Harper? This guy?

"Get down! Get down!" Hailey pulled Harper out of the line of fire and pushed her to the ground before covering her with her own body, amazing OA with her selflessness yet again. You really picked a good one, Jay.

"Move, move!"

"Drop it!" Scola had joined them when Lucas went for the kill, forcing OA to do the same. Only OA was a good shot, though.

"Lucas! Lucas! Lucas! Lucas..." Harper couldn't stop calling for him, and OA was certain that the only reason she hadn't crawled over to his body was that Hailey was holding her in place. "It's okay." Hailey seemed to be stuck on repeat, comforting Harper. OA personally couldn't see how someone who had been abused would mourn their abuser... But then again, he thankfully had never had to suffer through that. Unlike Hailey.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"Sounded like he was ready to hit the road, so I'm guessing his dope is close by. Nothing back here." OA went to the Range Rover with Scola to look for anything- finding the drugs would've been preferable, but as long as it was a tangible clue, they could call it a win.

"Yeah. There's nothing here either."

"Any luck?" Hailey approached them, her I-know-something-that-you-don't-but-don't-worry-I'll-tell-you plastered on her face.

"Nope. Nothing."

"You have the keys on you?"

"Yeah."

"Here, let me try something. Hop in. Shut the trunk." Hailey closed the driver's door, started the engine, pushed a button on the stereo and on the car door. A drawer illuminated by blue light opens, containing the missing drugs.

"I already pushed it. Nothing happened." Scola sounded mildly insulted, but OA just chuckled internally.

"Okay, Chicago." He was impressed, and he wasn't going to hide that. He was also going to give Jay a call later to tell him to ask her out already. There's no way a woman this amazing stays single for long.

"I have a CI who installs these things. Engine has to be on and doors closed in order for it to open."

"Okay, we got the dope. Now we just gotta figure out where to deliver it to."- OA

"Yep."

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

"We have Lucas' texts from the phone he was carrying since Harper said he started doing business with the Latin Players about a month ago-" Kristen was leading their group of field agents and Jubal towards the front desks, explaining what she found, and while normally they would have totally enjoyed her explaining just how smart she is, things were a little time-sensitive.

"Yeah."

"We need to scrub that time period."

"There, on the 28th. There's a text that says, 'Meetings at 2. Let's do 9 instead of 8.'" One of the analysts pulled the info onto the computer screen in front of them, showing them the text records.

"'Let's do 9 instead of 8'? But the meeting's at 2:00. Is that some sort of code?" Jubal's mind was whirring away with Kristen's, figuring out exactly what it meant.

"Well, here's Lucas' GPS data from that day around that time." Kristen worked her magic so that Jubal could work his.

"All right, so from 1:37 to 3:12, he was in Brooklyn down by the river. Kris, can you zoom in? Get a more specific look at this. Yeah, over here. Can you drill down right there?"

"Okay."

"They met at 2:00 at a dock. Pier nine instead of pier eight. That's the meeting place." Scola voiced it out loud, like he was still in thought and hadn't had time to put all of the pieces in place internally first.

"There it is." Jubal's prideful voice made OA smirk.

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

"We've got 67 minutes to get the drugs down to pier nine. Unfortunately, the guy we need to deliver the drugs is at the city morgue." Isobel voiced the dreadful obvious from her office, forcing them all to sigh and start their plan to catch Arman's killer from scratch.

"I'll go under as Lucas' friend. I'll give him the coke in exchange for Harper's dad." Hailey volunteered herself, but not with the same gusto she'd been working the entire case. Something was off and OA's 'spidey senses' were giving him no peace.

"No. These guys have done their homework. They're not gonna buy that." OA knew he made a good point, but he hoped that no one saw the way his shoulders went rigid.

"I get it, but I think I can pull it off."

"No, I agree with OA. It's too risky." Isobel agreed with him and OA felt like he could breathe again, he promised Jay that he'd watch her back, something he couldn't really do if he was watching her not with her. And if he were honest with himself, he'd become a little attached to her in the time they'd been partnered together, hoping that they would become friends.

"So we need a plan C."

"Let me do it. He's my father. I'm the one who got him into this awful situation. So let me do it. Let me do something meaningful. Something that will make me feel good about myself... Please. Gotta let me do it." Harper looked at Hailey, not even acknowledging the rest of the room.

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

"You're gonna do great. Just follow the plan we laid out."

"He doesn't get the second bag until you see your father."

"Right. Got it."

"And if your dad's not at the meeting place, you tell the man to bring him there. He'll say no. You stand your ground." Hailey seemed to be offering more comforting advice.

"You have more leverage than you think. This dope is worth a lot of money, and that's all they really care about." While he seemed to be offering more calculated advice.

"It's okay to be nervous. They'd be suspicious if you weren't. You good?"

"I'm good."

"Okay."

"Okay. Here we go."

"Alpha team in position."

"Where's Lucas?" The gang leader, covered in tattoos was menacing as he approached.

"He sent me instead."

"And my product? There's only one kilo here."

"The other four are close by."

"Close by doesn't do me no good."

"Show me where my father is, and I'll get you the other four."

"Don't get cute with me, mama. I'll cut your throat. Go get my dope."

"Let's get ready to move in."

"No, no. Give her a chance."- Hailey was confident, but OA couldn't help but side-eye her. Wondering just what made her so sure.

"You trying to get your dad killed? 'Cause, that's what's happen if you keep playing."

"I need to see him."

"He's alive. I promise."

"I need proof."

"[whistles] Right over there, chica."

"Okay, we got eyes on the dad. We're good to go."

"Wait, wait, wait. Let's see if we can get him talking about Aman's murder. As soon as we see a weapon, we roll."

"Okay." OA knew that Hailey was smart, and she had been making great calls throughout this case, but he was still hesitant. An innocent man's life was in the balance, but he wanted justice for Arman too.

"Be a good girl, go get my dope. Do that, Big Papa walks. I'll go with you."

"So... So... How do I know you're not gonna kill me and my father once I give you the dope?"

"I don't kill civilians. Bad for business."

"You kill that Indian guy? He was a civilian."

"I try my best, but I'm not perfect, mama." Harper meekly retrieved the second bag from behind construction equipment.

"You did good, Harper." But 'good' wasn't enough for him. Suddenly a large silver gun was pointing at the middle of her forehead.

"FBI! Don't move!" OA lead the charge, coming out of hiding and announcing himself the second that they got confirmation that he murdered Arman they'd burst out of the van and beat SWAT to Harper, the Latin Players, and Harper's father.

"Drop your weapon now! Let me see your hands now! Put the gun on the ground! Step away! Put it down now!"

"Get on the ground! Get on the ground, now!"

"Dad!"

"Let me go! Dad! Dad! Dad!" Honestly, he didn't give the tearful father-daughter reunion much attention or thought, but he noticed that Hailey did, if only for a couple of seconds longer than necessary. He didn't know what to make of that, though.

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

"Hey."

"Hey."

"I just filed my 302. Do you need help with yours?"

"Nah, I just finished."

"So, I have to admit, I wasn't so sure about you."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't sure about you either. But you're all right. For a fed."

"You wanna grab a beer?"

"I'm okay. You don't have to look after the new kid."

"I am pretty sure you don't need looking after. Come on, you saved my life. The least you can do is let me buy you a drink."

"For the tenth time, I didn't save your life. All right, let's grab a beer, but only if you tell me why you became a fed. I told you my reason. It's only fair you tell me yours."

"Deal."

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

They didn't quite 'go out for a beer'. When OA heard Hailey's stomach throw a temper tantrum in the elevator he suggested going out for food that was accompanied by a beer. She'd agreed as long as they didn't go out for "crackers with sauce on them". OA had laughed, not even remotely or phased by Hailey's obsession with Chicago pizza. It's just another thing she shares with Jay. Besides, he wanted to take her somewhere else.

When they sat down Hailey looked around, taking it all in. Omar has been coming to this restaurant all his life. It had been open longer than he'd been alive, he'd even had his tenth birthday here. He hadn't brought Maggie here yet, not because he didn't think they were close enough, he just didn't know how she'd react to realizing that they are that close. "I hope you like Egyptian food."

"I've never had it, but I'm Greek and I know that there are a few shared foods and ingredients."

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed Greek from 'Upton'."

"My parents changed it when they moved here, their name was too difficult for Americans to pronounce, and there was some... Other stuff."

"I'm familiar with 'other stuff'. Do you want any recommendations or need me to explain anything on the menu?"

"You know what? You can choose what I eat tonight. If I like what you pick, I won't tease you for it the rest of the time I'm here."

"Well, for the record-"

"What record?" Hailey laughed.

"For the record, I am completely confident in my knowledge of food so I know I'll find something you'll like. After all, it can't really be bad so long as it's not non-Chicago pizza. Right?"

OA ended up choosing a dish called 'kushari', it wasn't like the Chicago or Mediterranean food Hailey was used to but she'd loved it. OA was smiling at her, proud of his victory, Hailey rolled her eyes, smirking at his impishness. "Tell me about your partner." The question caught him off guard and for a moment he'd felt a significant crack in his walls, leaving him exposed. Suddenly all the feelings he'd been pushing back since Maggie went UC enveloped and starting drowning him. Fear gripped his heart, haunting curiousity stabbed his mind, and loneliness hooked onto his soul. "OA? We don't have to talk about her, I'm sorry I asked, I didn't mean to upset you."

"She's one of the most amazing people I know. She's smart, strong, generous, empathetic, courageous... She's honestly one of the most amazing people in my life and I love having her as my partner." Hailey looked at him the same way his sisters and mother did whenever he spoke about one of the most important people in his life. Like they were able to listen between his words and decipher another meaning to what he'd said. But like his mother, his sisters always gave him hell for it, she said nothing. I couldn't even dispute it if she did say anything.

"She sounds badass."

"She is. What about your partner? Tell me about them?" He'd narrowly averted saying 'him', unsure how she'd react if she knew just how close she and Jay really were, and just how much Jay had told him about her. She got this smitten grin on her face, and OA knew that the roles were reversed from a few moments ago when he had that same smirk and far off look in his eyes. "His name is Jay Halstead, and he's an amazing person, except for when he's getting himself shot, the reckless idiot. He would rather get shot at than get a needle which rattles me to no end, especially because he's so much more kind and intelligent than he gives himself credit for and we need him you know, alive, but still, I admire him so much. He makes me laugh and he just knows how to get to me, you know? I would... I would follow him anywhere. Wow... What is in this food? Truth serum? I'm not usually that open..." It was like he could literally see a forcefield shaping around her. Shrinking in on herself, her face hardening, hastily putting a forkful of food in her mouth. She looked at the wall behind him, pretending to be interested in the decorations, trying to pass off the slight panic in her eyes.

"Maybe it's just my charming demeanour, or that I got personal first, really personal. Or maybe it's because you needed to tell that to someone you don't see every day."

"Yeah. Maybe." She still wouldn't look at him and a tense silence enveloped them until she took a deep breath and shook herself. Light seemingly went off in her head before she gave him an absolutely devilish smirk. "I believe I was promised your origin story."

"Is that what we're calling it? An 'origin story'?"

"It is now."

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

"Halstead."

"Get your head out of your dumb ass and ask Hailey out."

"I- OA-"

"You won't regret it, Jay. I actually think that you will regret it if you don't."

"I just don't know if I'm ready to admit anything to myself, forget Hailey."

"When does life ever wait until you're ready, man? Neither of you work in a stable occupation, and even then the universe isn't exactly known for working on anyone else's timeline. I can literally feel you aching for her from here."

"But what if I'm not good enough."

"Oh, I've only known her for a few days and I already know that no one's good enough for her-"

"Damn have you adopted her as another honourary sibling? How many do you have now? And Hailey actually knows you've adopted her, right?"

"Not important, and don't try and change the subject."

"But if no one's good enough for her, then..."

"You're too hard on yourself Jay. No one's good enough for you either. Why shouldn't two people who are far too good for the world be together? You deserve happiness, Jay. You both do, and I think telling her that you're far gone with her would be a great start."

"Thanks, man. Really."

"No problem."

"... So you think that I'm 'far too good for the world'?"

"And now I'm regretting every word we've spoken." No I don't, but your head really doesn't to get bigger.

"Nope, no take-backs. You think that I'm badass and amazing."

"I never said 'badass' or 'amazing'."

"Jay Halstead- described as 'far too good for the world' by the humble and decorated OA Zidan-"

"I also called you a 'dumbass' but whatever, goodnight Jay. And seriously, ask Hailey out."

[scripts4dreamers]

I literally JUST sat down, pt.3

Part One, Part Two, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

(Longer one this time! As always, let me know if you want to get tagged in the next part.)

—————————-

“I hate this,” you whined, as Garcia pulled you through the crowded streets, “why didn’t we drive straight to the office, again?”

“Because, my little Grumpy Gus, you look like you barely slept, and this place has the best coffee in the city.” She promised, giving your arm a squeeze.

You grumbled under your breath, but didn’t complain, letting Garcia ply you with endless cups of coffee.

“Are we getting for the whole team?” You asked, your mind drifting to your late night message to Spencer.

Garcia paused, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, “Yeeeeees, why?”

You shrugged, “I was just asking. No need to read into anything.”

“This is about Spencer, I can tell. Spill it.”

You groaned, letting your head thump down onto the table, “How do you do that?”

“I’m a veritable fountain of knowledge, Y/N, you know this,” she teased, “plus I speak fluent Y/N, especially the little known Spencer Reid dialect.”

“Witch!” You said accusingly, “You’re a witch!”

“You flatter me,” she winked, tapping your forearm, “now spill it.”

You sighed, taking another sip of your coffee, “It’s nothing, I just-I messaged him, alright?”

“You did what?”

“I messaged him! And it was stupid and he didn’t even respond, so it’s not important.” You explained, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Penelope gasped, “He didn’t respond?”

You shook your head, “Nope. Nothing, look-“

You took out your phone and glanced briefly at the screen, frowning when you spotted the notification from the night before. You swiped up, your eyes tracing his response. Something in your stomach pinched.

“Huh.”

“What?” Penelope asked, “What is it? You’re legally obligated to tell me, it’s in the rules.”

“He-uh-“ you stared at the screen, still frowning, “he responded. I must’ve fallen asleep…”

“Ooohhh my gosh, what does it say? What did you say? Is it romantic?”

You pressed your lips together, your mind whirling at a thousand miles an hour as you try to figure exactly what Spencer meant by “I did.”.

“It’s-“ you shook your head, “I don’t know really.”

Something in your tone must’ve let on how conflicted you were feeling because Penelope let the matter slide, just giving your arm a comforting squeeze.

“Let’s get to work, Sugar,” she said, standing and extending her hand for you to hold, “we’ve got crimes to solve.”

You gave her a weak smile but let her pull you to your feet, trying to force your mind away from Spencer and back onto your case.

“That we do, Garcia, that we do.”

——————————-

“We come bearing gifts,” Garcia announced as she pushed open the door to the BAU, “sustenance in the form of sweet, sweet caffeine.”

Your eyes instantly flew to Spencer, giving him a weak smile which, to your intense relief, he returned. You also noticed, with a rush of fondness, that he’d kept your side of the desk clear.

“Garcia you’re an angel,” Emily smiled, pushing away from her desk to accept a cup.

“Speaking of angels,” you sighed, carrying a cup of coffee flavored sugar over to Spencer and taking your seat next to him, “have we got an ID on our victim yet?”

“Marcus Wilcox,” Spencer said, flipping open the file closest to you, “25 year old drug addict and male prostitute. He went missing two weeks ago and was reported missing by his best friend.”

You glanced over at the picture of the man whose body had been left in your bookstore and felt the familiar pang of sorrow in your chest. There was always going to be another one, another life cut short, another dead son or daughter who’s family would grieve their loss for years. It was enough to put a damper on anyone’s morning.

You could feel eyes on you, heavy and questioning and you found you couldn’t look up to meet their gaze.

“Anything unusual in the M.E.’s report?” You asked, still avoiding the eyes.

“All the mutilation was done postmortem, so that rules out sadism as a motive,” JJ suggested, accepting a cup of coffee gratefully.

“High levels of caffeine in the blood too,” Emily pointed out, “and…” she pressed her lips together.

“What, Em?” You asked.

She looked up at you nervously, something like sympathy in her eyes as she said, “Biscuits, in his stomach. They found brown butter biscuits and coffee in his stomach.”

Your blood froze and you felt a rush of nausea. You put your cup down, suddenly not thirsty anymore.

“Is...that significant, somehow?” Hotch asked, his perpetual frown firmly in place.

“They’re the best sellers at Y/N’s coffee shop,” Spencer said, something off in his voice, “she sells them fresh every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.”

You looked over, shocked, and noticed that Spencer was working his jaw, like he was angry, his one hand curled into a fist under his chin. You itched to reach out and touch his forearm, like you once would have, but you restrained yourself.

“What the hell is this guy doing?” Emily asked, “Why go through all this trouble to personalize the crime? What’s driving him?”

“It’s gotta be erotomania, right?” Morgan asked, “Someone’s trying to get Y/N’s attention.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you insisted, frustrated with having the same conversation again and again, “stalkers don’t start off with an elaborate and expertly executed murder. If it was erotomania, why not call first, or email or leave notes at my apartment? There’s been no build up to this sort of violence.”

“Plus, the victim has no connection to Y/N,” Spencer pointed out, “erotomaniacs want to reinforce their supposed devotion to the object of their affection, if he wanted to do that he would’ve picked someone Y/N knew, like an ex-boyfriend or an enemy of some kind.”

“Some who he thinks Y/N would actually want dead,” Emily agreed.

“Reid and Y/L/N are right, there’s something more to this, something we’ve missed,” Hotch said, “Garcia, I want you to go through everything you can find about Marcus Wilcox and see if he came into Y/N’s store at all. Maybe he’s a customer who was rude and offended the UnSub. After that, comb through Y/L/N’s life again; old friends, high school classmates, college professors, agents she worked with on cases, anyone who could have formed an attachment and been stalking her without us knowing.”

Garcia paled under her Barbie pink lipstick, “Sir, I-“

“It’s fine, Garcia,” you assured, giving her a soft smile, “I’ve got nothing to hide. You’ll have to get permission from the CIA to access some of my case files though, there’s some sensitive data in those.”

“I’ll call the director myself,” Hotch said, “that’ll expedite the process.”

“But, sir, sorting through all that data could take weeks,” you pointed out, “what do we do in the meantime?”

Hotch pressed his lips together, and you sighed, sensing his next words before they even came out of his mouth.

“We work cases, as usual,” he said, “Y/N, yours will still be our priority but, until we get a new lead…”

“We’re stuck.” You finished. You breathed in, trying to calm your restless nerves, and pushed yourself up, “Well, it was lovely seeing you guys again, but I guess that’s my cue.”

“What?” Spencer said, sitting up suddenly, “No, Y/N you can’t just leave, if there’s someone out there delusional enough to do this to get your attention then it’s not safe.”

“I’m with Boy Wonder,” Garcia agreed, shooting you an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, Sugar Plum but this whole thing is just icky and gross and I’d feel much better knowing you were here.”

You looked around, but we’re met with a wall of concerned faces. You wanted to scream. Nothing about this situation was fair. You hated feeling helpless, it was why you’d joined the FBI in the first place and, ultimately, why you’d left.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do while we wait for a lead?” You asked, “I can’t go home, I can’t go back to work, I can’t just sit here all day until my assigned babysitter for the night is free.”

“You could join us on cases,” Hotch said simply, “if I’m not mistaken, you’re still officially an agent so you’re cleared to be in the field.”

Spencer and Emily sucked in a breath in unison, and you shut your eyes. Shit.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Emily asked, “You never actually resigned?”

You shot her a sheepish look, “I meant to! I did! It was just,” you shrugged, “at first I wanted the safety blanket in case normal life didn’t work out and, once it did, I just-“ you trailed off.

Truth be told, you didn’t know why you’d never left. It was really only one document that you needed to sign, it would take less than three minutes to complete, there was nothing stopping you. You’d even filled it out once or twice but, for some reason, you always stopped before actually submitting it.

You shot a nervous look at Spencer, who was determinedly avoiding looking at anything except a particular patch of empty air, and sighed.

“So...what does that mean?” Morgan asked, “You’re back on the team?”

“Agent Y/L/N has technically been on an extended sabbatical for the past year,” Hotch explained, “ideally we would be able to keep her on in an advisory capacity while we work her case but, with her safety being such an issue, for the time being, yes, she’s back on the team.”

——————————-

You collapsed into your old seat on the jet, exhaustion weighing you down like a ton of bricks. It had taken almost no time for Hotch and Garcia to brief you on the team’s newest case and, before you could even pack a proper Go-Bag, you were wheels up and on your way to Tampa Bay. It was a fairly standard case, or as standard as it got for the BAU at least, and it had only taken three days to catch the guy, but it had still taken the life right out of you. Hotch had noticed your distress and sent you ahead to the jet with Rossi while the rest of the team finished packing up. On the one hand you resented being treated like a child, on the other….well, you were exhausted.

Rossi sat down across the aisle from you, handing you a mug of warm hot chocolate, which you accepted gratefully. He raised his eyebrows in that grandfatherly way, like he was asking you a question, and you smiled.

“What?” You asked, “I can tell you’re thinking something.”

“You love this” he said simply.

“Love it?” You laughed incredulously, “Rossi I haven’t been this tired since I spent three full days setting up my shop. I’m exhausted.”

“And you love it,” he insisted, “I can see that Evil Genius sparkle in those pretty eyes of yours.” He gestured at your face and you smiled, “Not that I blame you. Catching killers tends to be more exciting than baking cookies.”

“Hey, I thought you loved it when I made cookies!” You complained, whacking his hand away in mock outrage, “You said they were your favorite!”

“They are, I’m just making a simple observation, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” you said suspiciously.

“Here’s another one; there’s tension between you and the Good Doctor,” he continued.

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t disagree, letting your mind wander back to the last three days. After Hotch’s little announcement to the team, things had been...odd with Spencer. Actually, you couldn’t be sure that was the catalyst, for all you knew things could’ve been weird before that but, now it was just impossible to miss. He would bounce between avoiding you like the plague and actively seeking out your company; sitting next to you at dinner one minute and then purposely standing as far away as possible the next minute. It sucked. It sucked and it hurt your feelings and it was confusing, so there was no point in denying it to Rossi.

“I just wish he’d talk to me, you know?” You said, “Or yell, or shout or something. Like, if you’re angry then be angry. At least then we could talk it out, but this-“ you shook your head, “I hate it.”

“Ah, kid,” Rossi commiserated, patting your knee comfortingly, “I don’t think he’s angry, and that’s probably part of the problem.” You looked up, confused, and Rossi continued, “If he was angry, things would be a lot simpler. Like you said, you could just yell for a bit, and then it’d be over. No, I think Spencer’s just hurt and confused. He blames himself for you leaving and, now that you’re back, he’s happy, but he feels guilty about being happy because you’re in danger.” He explained, “It’s a confusing time for him, for you both.”

You sat up, “Wait why would he blame himself for me leaving?”

Rossi looked down, like he was thinking hard but, before he could say anything, you heard footsteps and the rest of your team boarded the jet. You shot Rossi a look that said “we’ll finish this later”, and then turned away, smiling at your friends.

“Hey,” you greeted, letting Morgan ruffle your hair.

JJ gave you a small smile, but your eyes went straight to Spencer, Rossi’s words bouncing around inside your head. To your surprise, he collapsed into the seat beside you.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I-uh-I was hoping we could talk.”

Your heart leapt, but you tried to keep your face neutral as you answered, “Sure thing, Reid. What about? The case?”

“Actually,” he said, his voice still low, “I wanted to talk about you.”

You pressed your lips together, but nodded, following Spencer’s lead and leaning in to avoid being overheard as your team settled in for the flight home.

Spencer was silent for a moment, like he was thinking, and then, “Why didn’t you resign? I thought you wanted out.”

“I did, or I thought I did. Reid, when I first left I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I guess I wanted to be able to come back if things went wrong.” You explained.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You paused for a moment, “Spence-“

His breath hitched in his throat, “The first time, when you were thinking about leaving. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-“ you sighed, the exhaustion rolling over you like a river, “I didn’t want to worry you until I was sure and then, after that….” you shrugged, “it all happened so fast. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, like he understood, and you watched some of the tension leech out of his body. For the first time he met your eye, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He said.

“Spence you’ve got nothing to-“

“I do,” he interrupted, “I promised you that we’d always be best friends and then, after you left, I just stopped trying.”

You were conflicted. Some part of you had been longing to hear this for months, ever since the texts, visits and calls had stopped out of the blue but, now that you were actually hearing it, it just made you sad.

“You did try,” you reminded him, “you came to the store a few times, helped me organize my books.”

He shook his head, “Not often enough. It just-it just got so hard, you know? Seeing you every weekend and knowing you weren’t going to be there when I got to work the next day,” he explained, his voice cracking, “watching you have this whole life outside of us, it just started to feel like maybe I didn’t fit-maybe we didn’t fit.” He gestured to the team, “And I thought maybe you were better off-“ he trailed off.

“Hey,” you cut in, reaching out and covering his hand with yours, “hey, listen to me. You guys are my family. You’ll always be my family, no matter what happens. I’m sorry you ever felt like anything else was even possible. I could never be better off without you guys.”

The hint of a smile played at the edges of his mouth, and he squeezed your hand gently.

“If it’s okay,” he said, still smiling hopefully, “I’d really like for us to be friends again. I know I broke a solemn oath but, if you’ll trust me, I’ll never let it happen again, I promise.”

Your smile felt so wide that it hurt your cheeks as you pulled him into a hug, savoring the way he chuckled as he hugged you back.

“Of course, Spence,” you smiled, still holding him close, “of course.”

“God, I missed you,” he admitted into your neck, “no one else pretends to care about Star Trek as well as you do.”

You laughed and let him go, feeling the distance that had formed over the last year vanishing bit by bit.

“I’ve missed you too, Doctor Reid.” You said, “But, I’ll admit, I haven’t missed the Star Trek talk as much.”

“None of us miss the Star Trek talk,” Derek said, making you both jump, “honestly, I miss not knowing about Star Trek.”

“Preach,” JJ agreed, “Y/N/N, I know you’re in charge of what we watch tonight but I’m begging you, please pick something made for adults? I’ve been watching nothing but Marvel and Disney for months.”

“But I love Disney,” Emily complained.

“Rest assured,” Rossi interrupted, “it’s my entertainment system and I don’t even have any Disney.”

“You have Lord of The Rings though, right?” Spencer asked.

You watched your team bicker amongst themselves, laughing like you hadn’t laughed in months. Being together like this was like a healing balm for your frayed nerves, bringing you back to a place of calm, like you’d just come home from a long trip. In the back of your mind, you knew there was still work to be done, old wounds you needed to address and mysteries you needed to solve but, for now, you were just happy to be with your family. For now, this was enough.

—————————

Spencer felt like he was living in some sort of strange fever dream, like all his months of sulking had finally driven him mad and now he was physically imagining things as he helped you out of his car. Touching you always made him a little dizzy but, over the years that you’d worked together every day, he’d managed to build up a tolerance, a tolerance that was now almost completely gone. It had been months since everyone had agreed to have family dinner at Rossi’s, but now that you were back, he’d insisted. Spencer was on cloud nine. He had his best friend back and, for the first time since you’d left, things felt good again, like he was exactly where he should be.

As you sat around Rossi’s table, swapping stories and reminiscing over the past, Spencer had to fight to stop from staring at you. You were really there. He could reach out and touch you. If he called your name you would respond and your eyes would light up the way they always had, like he was the only person in the world you wanted to see. It was surreal. In the back of his mind, Spencer knew he was being selfish, that he shouldn’t want you to stay this time and he should be itching to find out who was stalking you so that you could go back to the life you’d built. But he wasn’t.

When JJ had gotten the call that you needed them, Spencer had thought his heart was going to implode from all the pent up longing he’d kept stored away. Seeing you hadn’t exactly improved things. He’d spent the entire day trying to hold himself together, unsure of how to act around you, playing through every single memory he’d been keeping repressed for all this time like it would somehow give him the answer. God, half the time he’d wanted to scream, the other half he’d wanted to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go ever again. As his eyes traced the plains of your face, plains he’d memorized a million different times, he felt a flicker of that old flame burn in his chest, like the embers of a fire that had never really been put out, and he sighed.

“Hey, kid, where’s your head?” Morgan asked, his voice soft enough to avoid being overheard.

“Hmm? What?” Spencer replied, tearing his eyes away from you as you laughed at something Garcia said.

“Your head,” he repeated, where’s it at?”

Spencer thought for a minute, and then smiled, “I’m good. Really good, actually.”

Morgan nodded, a little too knowingly for Spencer’s liking, but let the matter drop. Just then, the unmistakable ping of Hotch’s cell cut through the late night air and, as if on cue, every eye in the house turned to face the sound. Hotch examined his phone, his frown deepening and sending shivers of worry up Spencer’s neck. He wanted to say something, to stop Hotch from giving them whatever horrible piece of news was on that phone, but he couldn’t. He just sat and waited, like everybody else.

“Hotch?” JJ eventually asked, her hand gripping yours, hard.

“They-uh-” Hotch started, showing a rare moment of nerves, “they found another note at Y/N’s apartment.”

Several people swore, Garcia whimpered, Derek slammed his fist against the table, but you just stared straight ahead, your face stony and unmoving. Spencer wanted to reach out, but he was frozen in place.

“What did it say?” You asked, “Is it another love poem?”

“No,” Hotch answered, “it’s a string of numbers; 29.07.15/18.01.14/38.8765.77.0006.”

“Reid, you got that?” Morgan asked, shooting him a look.

Spencer felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, but he nodded, “I’ve got it.”

“But, that’s not all, is it?” Rossi asked.

Hotch shook his head, “They found another body. This time in an empty storefront a few blocks away from Y/N’s apartment.”

“Probably the site I’d picked out for the second branch,” you supplied, “I just signed the deal three weeks ago.”

You buried your face in your hands, sighing as the atmosphere around the dinner table took a turn for the worst.

“Well,” Emily said, “Looks like we’ve got our lead.”

Hotch nodded, “Let’s get to work.”

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

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes​, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless​, @reidloversisforever​, @ashookykooky​, @l0ve-0f-my-life​, @shilohpug​, @tangerinenotions95​, @petitchatonbleu, @pirateismywayofspeaking​, @must-be-a-weasley-92​, @whovianayesha, @holding-on-to-my-youth​

[duskholland]

Say Goodnight | Harrison Osterfield

Summary ↠ you and Harrison broke up before he left to chase his dreams in Hollywood. With 5,000 miles between you, you’re both struggling to adjust to life without the other; exes to lovers; prompt: “why did you call me at 2 in the morning?”

Warnings ↠ angst with a happy ending, a breakup, one curse word?

Word Count ↠ 2.7k

A/N ↠ I miss Harrison. A lot. And I haven’t written enough for him, so...here ya go! This is definitely inspired by Ariana Grande’s song goodnight n go, which never fails to hit me in the feels (listen to the version from her live album... it’s magic).

This is also my fic for @t-holland2080​‘s writing challenge! Thanks so much for hosting such a fun challenge Sammy - I hope you enjoy this :)

(a repost because tumblr decided to block me out the tags lmao)

You didn’t think it was possible to cry this much.

Harrison’s standing in front of you, glistening tear tracks running down his rosy cheeks. His eyes shift over your face, guiltily running the lines and curves of your cheeks and your forehead, trying desperately to stay away from your eyes, because you both know that seeing the heartbreak reflected in his icy blue gaze will be too much. Your chest hurts and you’re shaking, but you know that everything he’s said is true. You know that breaking up is for the best.

But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“I still love you,” Harrison tells you quietly. He rocks back on his feet, his teeth grazing his lower lip before he adds, “I’ll always love you, Y/N. The timing just…”

“The timing isn’t right,” you finish. With shaky hands, you reach up behind your neck and your fingers fiddle with the clasp of the necklace Harrison had draped around you, all those months ago. He makes a small sound of objection as the chain falls heavily into your hands and you hold it out in front of you. “Keep it,” you urge. You finally let yourself meet his eyes, and you try to stay strong as you grab his hand and push the chain into his palm. “So you don’t forget about me whilst you’re off being a movie star.”

Harrison reluctantly pockets the chain, his eyes lingering on the solid curve of the H. “I could never forget about you, Y/N.”

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that the only way Harrison can pursue his dreams is 5,000 miles away, across the Atlantic in America. It’s even more unfair that you can’t go with him because you’re enrolled in university in London. But worst of all, neither of you signed up for a long-distance relationship when you first began dating, and now you’ve had to come to the mutual, heartbreaking decision that breaking up is going to be easier than stringing out a virtual relationship together. It doesn’t matter that you love Harrison more than you’ve ever loved another person, nor that he holds you so closely to his heart that he’s certain you’ve somehow intertwined yourself with his soul: long-distance is too much, and you both think you’ll be too busy to maintain your relationship. Neither of you want to sit by and watch your relationship break down.

So breaking up is simpler, supposedly.

“You should go,” you find yourself saying, swallowing down the lump in your throat. Your hand rests on your front door knob, the cool brass feeling icy against your warm skin. You use your other hand to sweep beneath your cheeks, trying to stop the endless flow of tears from your eyes. “Don’t want you to miss your flight, Haz.”

He runs his hand through his hair, a grimace spread across his face.

“I- Are you sure this is the right choice?” He asks, echoing the words you’ve both been saying for days.

You shrug helplessly. “I don’t know,” you admit. “But I know that I can’t stand here waiting for you to walk away any longer.” You release a deep breath. “Just go, Harrison. Please.”

And he looks like he really wants to stay. His feet twitch, as if he’s about to push his way back into your flat and throw himself down on the sofa like he’s done a thousand times before. But his eyes pass over your tearful, heart stricken face, and he finally sighs, slipping his hands into his back pockets as he manages a weak smile.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he says softly, his lips curving around the words with ease. The way he says your name so fondly causes the pain in your chest to crack and expand.

“Bye, Harrison.”

And then he turns, slowly, and you watch as he drags his feet down the corridor. Harrison pauses when he reaches the staircase, one hand on the door as he casts his eyes back towards you. Your mouth twitches into a smile instinctively: the sight of his face, his loose blond curls, and his friendly smile never fails to make you feel warmer - even now, as he walks out of your life, taking a piece of your heart with him.

You raise your hand in a final wave, and then Harrison steels himself and walks through the door at the end of the corridor, leaving you standing alone in your doorway, a lump in your throat and a weight hanging so heavily in your heart that you know you won’t be forgetting him any time soon.

[-----]

Life without Harrison is hard.

Before you’d started dating him a year ago, you hadn’t believed love could feel so fulfilling or right. But then you’d stumbled into him at Tom’s birthday party and you’d immediately hit it off, and everything had changed. You think it would be hard not to instantly fall in love with Harrison: he’s charming, witty, and he carries such a bright light in his eyes that he had you hook, line, and sinker within the first ten minutes of your conversation.

As you try to move on, you find Harrison haunting your every move. You open Instagram and you see his posts and stories staring you right in the face, broadcasting his life out in LA with his new friends and castmates, and it stings. When you strike out and find yourself in the pub with Sam, all you can think about is how you used to frequent the place with him, and your eyes find the corner booth you’d used to sit in, your figure usually curled up in Harrison’s lap. You can almost feel the presence of his slender, delicate fingers wrapped around your waist as you gaze longingly at the booth.

And the most frustrating part of it all? Harrison seems fine. He seems completely unbothered, which just serves to twist the knife further into your chest every time your thumb hovers over his contact photo, or you start writing out a lengthy, emotional text. You’ve heard nothing from him, and it makes you question everything you’d thought you’d had together.

Everything changes one Wednesday night, around six weeks after Harrison had left.

You’re woken up by the loud, shrill ringing of your phone. You try to ignore it at first, groaning as you roll over on your side and try to press your head into your pillows, but it just keeps going, and it seems to rattle louder against your skull the longer it prattles on. So, after releasing a stream of your best expletives, you roll over and snatch it off your bedside table, accepting the call before you’ve even had time to check the caller ID.

“Hello?” You croak, clearing your throat immediately as you hear the fatigue hanging heavy in your throat.

“Y/N.”

Suddenly you’re wide awake.

“Harrison?!” You exclaim, sitting bolt upright. You bring your knees to your chest as you pull the duvet around you, trying to hide beneath the warm sheets as if they’ll protect you from the way that hearing his voice unleashes an onslaught of painful emotions. “What’s going on?”

Harrison doesn’t reply for a few moments, but merely the sound of his level, familiar breathing is enough to bring tears to your eyes. You try to push them away as your heart races in your chest, so many emotions flying through your heart that it feels consuming.

“Uh, nothing,” he eventually says softly. “Sorry. It doesn’t matter.”

“Then why did you call me at 2 in the morning?”

The sound of his chuckle is forced, but it’s so lovely to hear him again that you can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Oh, I didn’t realise it was so late,” he says, “‘m sorry, love.”

“It’s okay. I missed your voice.” It slips out before you can really stop it.

“I missed your voice too,” Harrison admits, voice thick. “I miss you so much, Y/N.”

You swallow deeply, running your fingers over the crinkles of your duvet as you think. Your mind runs slowly, clouded with your fatigue and your emotions, and you really don’t know how to take this all, but you know that hearing his voice makes you happy - more happy than you’ve felt in weeks.

“I miss you too,” you mumble down the line. Your fingers ache from how tightly you’re gripping the phone. “How’s LA?”

Harrison chuckles, and you hear a noise in the background as if he’s climbing into a bed. You can almost imagine him: his lanky legs spreading out over the sheets, a low groan slipping past his lips as he stretches out his arms and back. That lazy pink smirk hanging freely from his perfect lips. The image burns into your eyelids.

“LA is mad,” he tells you honestly. “It’s a whole different world over here, Y/N. It’s… It’s exciting, but it’s so different to London. I wish it would all slow down.”

“You’re really busy then?”

He hums lightly. “Yeah. I’m either on-set or doing fittings or rehearsals.”

“Are you having fun?”

Harrison takes a while to ponder your question.

“Yes,” he says, bringing a swell of tears to the front of your eyes. “But I’d be so much happier if you were here too.”

You try to disguise your sniffles, but you’re almost certain he can hear them. “Well… I’m not,” you manage. “I’m glad it’s giving you everything you wanted.”

There’s a very awkward, very thick silence that envelops the line, and it makes you shift uncomfortably in your sheets.

“I should let you sleep,” Harrison says, guilt lacing his words. “I’m sorry for waking you up. I shouldn’t have called you.”

“Oh, okay.” Your free hand clenches into a hard fist as you try to stop your lower lip from wobbling. “Don’t worry about it, Haz. I’m always here if you want someone to talk to.” A small smile flicks out across your lips. “Doesn’t matter what time it is.” I love you - those three unspoken words hang between you. You can feel them, surrounding you, smothering you, and you can almost hear them on the tip of Harrison’s tongue, so you jump in to add, “Goodnight, Harrison,” because you really can’t bear to hear them.

You can feel his reluctance, but you release a deep breath as he says, begrudgingly, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You hang up quickly, your fingers trembling as you toss the phone down the bed. The blank screen stares at you, taunting you, and you’re overcome with such a strong sense of regret that you almost reach out and call him back. Your body craves him - his soft, melodic voice, his gentle words, his love.

Your phone starts ringing, and you snatch it back up, eyes taking in the image of Harrison’s contact photo as he flashes over the screen. You accept it without a second thought.

“I don’t want to say goodnight yet,” Harrison says immediately, words falling into one another. “I don’t want to stop talking to you, Y/N. Can we please keep talking? Just for a bit.” He pauses, his voice breaking. “I miss you.”

The relieved smile on your face shows no sign of budging. “I don’t wanna say goodnight either, Haz.”

[-----]

It’s a bad habit, but for the entire time Harrison is away, you end up on the phone with him each evening. The first few times had been fairly spontaneous, but soon it becomes a habit: every day, as Harrison finishes filming, he gives you a call and you have a long, rambling conversation. It breaks up your sleep, but you grow so used to it that you start setting an alarm at 1.50am just so you can grab a cup of tea and wake yourself up before he calls.

It’s definitely inadvisable to stay so connected to your ex-boyfriend, but it feels too good to quit. Harrison is your drug, and every time you hang up the phone, you’re left feeling sad and hollow inside. But it eases the pain of having him so far away, and maybe a part of you deludes yourself by reasoning that your calls are helping you get over him: cutting him out completely was too hard, but maybe sharing these phone calls will help you. Eventually he’ll stop calling, and you’ll be able to heal, because you’ll have practised saying goodbye so many times it’ll feel normal.

But Harrison doesn’t stop calling, and you don’t stop answering, and soon enough, he’s been away for six months, and he’s preparing to move back to London, his film complete.

You don’t really know where you stand with him, if you’re being completely honest. He’s still your ex - but you’re still helplessly in love with him, and you’re fairly sure that most exes don’t spend hours on the phone each day, chatting and laughing like you’re still together. You try to bring it up with him, but every time you start the conversation, your heart clenches in your chest and you wimp out.

You ignore the difficult conversation for as long as you can - which lasts until you hear a loud knock on your front door, and you know that it’s him.

It feels almost like a gravitational pull, drawing you back to his figure. You’ve spent all day pacing your flat, fussing over your hair and your outfit, but for the entire time you’ve spent waiting on his flight arriving, you haven’t been sure if you’d be able to open the door and face him. But now you know that he’s here, your heart seems to act of your own accord.

You wrench your door open, and immediately you’re pulled into a tight, crushing hug. It knocks the air out of your lungs and you wheeze as you feel that familiar set of curls brushing up against your neck, and you feel a few tears slip from your eyes as you take it all in. He’s back.

“Haz,” you exclaim, your voice choked with tears. His hands move over your back, clinging to you, drawing you as close as possible as his rich, earthy cologne invades your system. It doesn’t even matter that his jacket has a collection of chilly raindrops clinging to the leather, because it feels so fucking perfect to have him so near you again that you can’t focus on anything other than him.

“I missed you,” he whimpers, as he pulls away from your neck. His large hands fall on your shoulders as he stares at you intently, his focused eyes whipping the air from your lungs. He looks so cute that you can’t really stop yourself from shifting closer and pressing your lips to his. Immediately you relax, and he does too, and he kisses you back softly. Your mouths are tender at first, pressing together softly - testingly - but as you wrap your hands around his waist and bring him closer, it deepens. Your mind spins with dizzy, overwhelming happiness as you revel in the feeling of Harrison, enjoying him utterly, your heart thrumming happily against your ribs.

“I missed you so much,” you mumble against his lips, kissing him between each word. Your fingers drift into his hair, and you smile as he hums in agreement.

“We are so stupid,” he says, drawing a laugh from your lips. “Can’t believe we ever thought breaking up was for the best.” His mouth shifts up to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I love you so much, Y/N. Please, can we get back together?” His words are desperate, but they echo the things you’ve been feeling for months, and hearing them is such a relief that you simply have to kiss him again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whisper, moving to rest your forehead on his shoulder. Harrison brings you into a warm hug, and you let him hold you as you breathe him in. “I missed you. I love you.” You tilt your head back, meeting his eyes gleefully. “I’m so glad that you’re back.”

Harrison reaches down and pulls a familiar, glinting chain from his pocket. Your gaze softens as you pull away from him and tilt your head, letting him wrap the necklace back around your neck. The H pendant settles gently over your chest, and it feels like coming home.

“Perfect,” he comments, and you’re not sure if he’s talking about you or the necklace, but you’re willing to accept either.

With a warm smile on your face, you move aside and welcome him inside. “D’you want a cup of tea?” You offer.

Harrison steps across the threshold and presses a final, loving kiss to your lips. “There’s nothing I’d like more.”

----

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[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Paint My Spirit Gold

Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow

Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 2187

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]

- 

A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence. 

“Wow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,” he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.

“My goodness, I’m famous,” he drawled. “The Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.”

Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post he’d been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- he’d made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.

“How kind of you, Remus,” he said. “All of you should go scold him for what he’s done to poor Jake here.”

Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.

The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.

“And our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why don’t we show the Duke some appreciation?”

-

[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]

- 

“You know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.”

The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick

“French onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.”

Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos. 

“So we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. You’re going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories you’ve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.” 

And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him. 

“Now the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough… at least, that’s what every man I’ve ever slept with tells me.”

Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment. 

He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table.  He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop. 

'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-I’ll-kick-it" o'clock. 

-

[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]

-

Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didn’t need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides… he was fine. Really. 

He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in. 

“What do you mean I’m not in my kitchen?” Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. “My goodness, when did that happen?”

He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. “Yes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch… and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, I’m not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldn’t stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.”

Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soon’s, a few theories about the “attempted murder,” Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the “attempted murder” but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Duke’s living room?

“Oh, VampSuga,” he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, since I can’t reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-”

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:

“VampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit. 

Starstruck96: who?

IneffableSnek: lmao

FeralBeauYasha: lol

VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! They’re totally dating. I will die on this hill. 

FeralBeauYasha: Isn’t the duke w/ PatPat?

IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf

FeralBeauYasha: ohh

VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceit’s stream today? I swear that’s the Duke’s livingroom. 

StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch

IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean

IneffableSnek: im watching the duke’s old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons he’s in a living room kinda like deceit’s 

FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too

VampSuga: DUKECEIT”  /end ID]

-

"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenient…" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin. 

"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."

Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh… future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is called…” He squinted at his phone. “Amish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.”

Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned “Amish chic” to “2008 rave attire” to “ok now you guys are just fucking with me” (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left. 

“Ok so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that I’m gonna call ‘sexy librarian.’ I couldn’t find this exact sweater online, but-” he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. “My boyfriend had something that was close enough.”

Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.

“They’re going to lose their minds,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.

“Shoo, I’m getting naked.”

-

[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus “The Duke” Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: “my viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!” /end ID]

-

DukeceitStan

first and only dukeceit shipper ig

DukeceitStan

wow there’s so many of you now! Hi!!

DukeceitStan

i want this to be canon so bad omg

DukeceitStan

i mean just look

[image]

how 

[image]

cute

[image]

[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.

The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceit’s hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left. 

The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand. 

The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]

- 

“Remus, it’s almost two in the morning. Come to bed.”

“I’m coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.”

“Mm. I can’t believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.”

“You should try harder.”

“Come to bed and maybe I will.”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?”

“Sure. They figured it out anyway.”

“Sweet. Ok, Jannie, I’m coming.”

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: “Dukeceit is canon.” /end ID] 

[brywrites]

For A Living

A/N: Reid has worked hard to keep his job a secret from the Reader, who he’s been dating. But she’s a little more perceptive than he expected.

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

For once in his life, everything seems to be good. He is sitting in a coffee shop drinking a mocha full of sugar, talking about the previously unpublished Hemingway short story to a girl whose eyes light up with every word. She is just as excited about “A Room on the Garden Side” as he is, and he can’t help but smile to himself. Everything is perfect.

Until she asks him what his plans are for next week, and he responds that he’s not sure yet.

“Well, my old roommate, Rimsha, is coming into town. She wants to stay at my place, and she was hoping to meet you. If that’s okay with you,” she adds, looking a little embarrassed.

“No, of course, I – I would love to meet her,” Reid stammers, though meeting new people isn’t his favorite thing in the world. But it matters to her, so he’s willing to try. “I just, uh, I’m not sure what my week will look like.”

Y/N pauses, looking down at the muffin in front of her. She teeters on the edge of speaking, and he’s trying to figure out what she’s so afraid to say. Is there something he should know about Rimsha? Is she worried their meeting won’t go well? Despite his analysis of her behavior, nothing could have prepared him for what comes from her mouth next.

“When are you going to tell me what your real job is?”

Reid blanches. “Wh-what?”

She sighs. “We’ve been dating for three months. I know you’re not just a college professor, Spencer.”

“I – I am a college professor.” He crosses his arms under his chest, trying to keep calm.

“I know that’s what you told me when we met. And when we started dating, you were teaching full-time, but you only taught for a month. So what is it you do the rest of the time?” she asks. Oh no. No, he’s not ready to answer this question.

“I do research.” Reid hopes the slight telltale crack in his voice isn’t noticeable to her. If it is, she says nothing about it, only stares at him with focused eyes and a slightly quirked eyebrow.

“Your research requires you to leave suddenly and travel to different time zones?”

She’s more observant than he thought. “I told you before, I guest lecture at other universities and I… I go to, uh, conferences.”

“Where you’re so busy you can’t talk to me?” When they get a case, he always try to talk his way out of it if he has to cancel plans, but when he’s away he never calls her. It’s too risky. With her, he lets his guard down. It’s too likely he’d end up mentioning something that happened at work, so he sticks to a strict text-message only policy.

“Um – I, uh…” he can’t find the words and now he’s tapping his foot in patterns of three and he can feel the anxiety building up in his chest. What is he supposed to say? What is he supposed to do? Is he about to lose the woman who has been the light of his life since he met her five months ago?

But one gentle look from her calms his racing heart. Her eyes are soft and she gives him a reassuring smile. “Hey, it’s okay.” She slowly reaches out to place her hand over his, and he can feel his body relax. “I’m not mad at you. I know you, and I know that there’s a reason you haven’t told me, yet. But I want you to know that you can trust me. I can’t be there for you if you don’t let me in.”

When she has a rough day at work or when something comes up with her family, he’s always there to comfort her and listen to her. All she wants is to do the same for him.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he starts. “I just – there’s… it’s more complicated than that.” He can’t find the words to explain, but he knows that he has to. He really likes her. This beautiful girl who loves books as much as he does, and doesn’t mind his rambling. Who asked him about the book he was reading three weeks in a row at the coffee shop they both frequented before he worked up the nerve to ask her about her book; after which they ended up in a four hour long conversation, during which the barista brought them free refills of their lattes (“because it’s about damn time you two actually talked to each other,” she’d said).

He adores he kindness and her laugh and the way a hug from her makes the world feel right again. Her patience with his quiet cover-up has lasted this long, and he’d begun to think she hadn’t noticed. How had he fooled himself into believing that? She’s so smart, of course she knew.

At that very moment, his phone buzzes with a familiar ringtone. Reid digs into his bag and pulls out his cell, only to be greeted with a message from Garcia: ALL HANDS ON DECK MATEYS, WE HAVE ARR-SELVES A CASE. When he looks back at Y/N, she nods, and he wonders which one of them is the profiler.

“Research conference?” she asks, a little coy.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I have to go.” He quickly shoves his things into his satchel, and reaches over to squeeze her hand. “But I promise, when I get back, we’ll talk.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.” And she flashes him that smile he loves so much. What would she say if she knew where he was off to? That each call meant running into danger?

All through the case, that question comes back to him. Something could happen to him while he’s away, and she would be left to navigate a field of questions on her own. Wondering why he didn’t tell her what he did, and why it was so risky, and why he couldn’t trust her with that.

The truth is he would trust her with everything, anything. He’d give her his heart tomorrow if she asked for it, but he’s trying to keep hers safe.

Reid is gone for three days, and he doesn’t call her once. She only sends him one text – call me when you’re home.They catch the man killing women in a small Missouri town, and the case is closed without anyone on the team getting hurt. The whole plane ride home he’s on the edge of his seat, mind racing with all the things he wants to say to her. He goes home and paces his living room for an hour and a half before finally calling her, and asking if she’ll come over to talk.

“So, how was the conference, professor?” she asks, taking a seat on his couch.

He sighs. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. The last few days were hard and I didn’t want to say the wrong thing.”

“The only wrong thing you can say is nothing.” She bites her lip, and when she looks up at him he shivers under the intensity of her gaze. “Spencer, I love you.” It’s the first time she’s ever said it out loud and it takes his breath away to hear those words from her. “And I want to keep loving you, but I can’t do that if you can’t open up to me. Why do you keep trying to hide this from me?”

“I’m not trying to keep anything from you,” he says, sitting down beside her. “I was… I was trying to protect you. Because I love you, too.”

“What could be so bad that you can’t tell me? Where do you go all the time? What are you doing?”

Reid swallows hard. “Y/N, it’s not that I don’t think you can handle it. I know you’re strong. But when you came into my life, it was like this – this bright light. I see so much darkness, and I just don’t want you to have to deal with that. I don’t want what I’ve seen to ever make you worry more or smile less or dim that light you bring to every room you go into.”

She puts her hand on his. “And I don’t want to leave you alone in the dark.”

Her eyes are pleading with him, and he’s never been good at saying no to her. He can’t keep this up. He can’t hide this part of his life for her forever. Acknowledging it means acknowledging all the harm that comes with it – the loss of colleagues, the trauma, the drugs… everything. But she deserves to know.

He takes a deep breath. “I work for the FBI.”

Y/N narrows her eyes. “Spencer, I’m being serious.”

“So am I!”

“I’m supposed to believe that my bookworm boyfriend who abhors physical activity is a secret agent?”

Reid jumps up to grab his messenger back from its hook, fumbles briefly in the pockets, and returns to the sofa with a small black holding case in hand. He gives it to her and adds, “Technically, it’s supervisory special agent.”

He watches as she opens it up and stares at the badge and ID inside. Her mouth falls open and her eyes widen as she stares up at him and if he weren’t so nervous he’d find the expression on her face absolutely adorable. Y/N looks between him and the badge before asking, “What’s BAU?”

“It’s the Behavioral Analysis Unit. That’s the division my team works in. We use psychology to profile repeat offenders.” He winces at the words that sound straight out of his orientation manual.

Her eyebrows knit together. “Profiling? Like… Silence of the Lambs or something?”

“More or less,” he says. “My team is a specialized unit. When local law enforcement has something on their hands that they can’t handle, they call us in. It might be a terrorist threat, a child abduction, or a serial killer – though it’s usually the latter.”

He can see the pieces starting to come together for her.

“So that’s where you go when you leave.”

He nods. “We fly out to wherever we’re needed and consult. And if we’re lucky, we catch unsu- um, the suspect, before they can hurt anyone else.”

Y/N runs her fingers of the edges of his badge, staring at it as if it can make sense of all of this. “So when you say you’ve seen things…”

He figures it’s best to keep being honest. “Yeah. Bodies. Crime scenes. Death. The most depraved human beings on the planet. It’s an abyss. There are a lot of things that haunt me. And there are things I’ve done that I’m not proud of. And I’ll answer any question you want, I just need you to know that I wasn’t trying to hide this from you because I didn’t want you to know. I just didn’t want to weigh you down with it. I wanted to pretend, for just a little while, that I’m not the person who gets in the mind of monsters. Because when I’m with you, I can forget all of that. I feel better when I’m with you. And I guess I was afraid that if I told you what I did, that something bad would happen.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“This job is dangerous. I know friends who have lost loved ones – either because the job is too much or because someone we’re trying to catch makes things personal. I thought I could protect you from all of that by hiding my job from you.”

“This is a lot to take in,” she says quietly.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Is the only thing you’ve lied to me about?”

“Yes. There are things I haven’t told you about yet that have happened because of this job, but I don’t want to keep any more secrets from you. I’ll tell you everything, I swear. But everything else is real. I’m still me. I do teach when I’m on sabbatical. I’ve read every book by Tolstoy in English and Russian. My mom does have schizophrenia. And I do love you.”

Y/N sets the badge down on the couch between them and puts her hand over his. On instinct, he twines their fingers together. She keeps him grounded, tethered in the midst of all the madness.

“So you’re a genius and a hero, huh?”

He chuckles. “To be honest, I don’t really care about being either of those things. All I want is to be the man who gets to love you.”

She brushes his hair back from his cheek, her touch so soft he could melt. “No more secrets?”

“I promise.”

“Good. I can handle the dark. I can be strong. But you’re the one who makes me smile. And I don’t want to stop loving you.”

He can’t help but grin. What he has with her is better than anything he had ever dreamed of, and he doesn’t know how he got so lucky, but he swears he’s not going to mess this up. The BAU is his job, his team, the way he makes a living. But with her, he has a chance to build a life. “I took next weekend off, by the way. So whenever Rimsha is here, I would love to meet her.”

The smile playing at the corner of her mouth is mischievous. “Oh don’t worry, there’s going to be plenty of time for that, Mr. FBI Man. But for now, I kind of want you all to myself.” She leans in to kiss him, and he knows – that for once in his life everything, everything is good.

[sleepylixie]

hey congrats on 100 followers that's a big number!!!! could you please write #4 + hyunjin from the soulmate au promp list please?? thank u 💗

Thank you so much omgg hehe~ I hope you like this! Do let me know what you think 🌙🤭

4. You can feel what your soulmate is feeling (and vice versa)

(A drabble for this sweet anon, as part of my 100 Followers Celebration, from this prompt right here! Feel free to request 🥰)

600 words, Angst/Fluff

You were mentally prepared for a normal day- go to class, have lunch at your favourite cafe, put in a visit to your favourite pet shelter before getting back home. What you were not ready for was a wave of anxiety washing over you, so strong that you almost doubled over in your seat on the metro. The sounds of concern from fellow passengers were drowned out almost instantly, your mind shutting down, trying to help you bring some clarity back to your thoughts- the barrage of feelings you were hit by… it wasn’t yours.

Hyunjin.

Almost as if on cue, your phone rang. You scrambled to pull it out of your bag, mind still clouded by the barrage of emotions. “Y/N, it’s Hyunjin.” Changbin’s voice was calm on the surface, but even your overloaded brain could pick up on the undercurrent of panic.

“I’m coming,” you choked out before he could even explain, standing up with shaky feet to get to the metro door. Classes could wait, you decided, shooting texts to your friends to tell them you’d be away for the rest of the day.

Your soulmate and boyfriend had kissed you on the forehead and left your shared apartment little more than a week ago- it was comeback season, he said, and it would be easier to just live with the members until they were done preparing. “I’ll be fine, Y/N,” He’d giggled, picking up easily on the concern you’d been trying so hard to bite back. “It’s only a few weeks, I’ll have the boys.”

But he wasn’t fine, so here you were, rushing out of the metro station to hail a cab, still being ravaged by the deluge of feelings that were rushing through your system.

Please be fine, sweetheart, please be fine-

The cab ride took almost an hour- you were flying out of the seat the second the driver stopped, paying him quickly and bustling into the company with your visitor ID on display. Instantly, you saw Chan and Changbin in the lobby and hurried towards them, trying not to let the panicked tears cloud your vision. “What happened, Chan?”

“He’s been stressing himself out over the concert. And his special stage. And the Japanese comeback.” You barely caught onto Chan’s response- your head still felt heavy, like the emotions weighed you down.

“That’s not it,” You murmured, following the two boys into the lift. “He’s been stressed, I could feel it, but today wasn’t just that. . I almost fainted in the metro, you guys.”

“If there’s anything, he hasn’t told us, Y/N..” Changbin said, as they led you to their practice room.You didn’t respond, singularly focussed on getting to Hyunjin.

When you threw open the door, 5 pairs of eyes met yours but all you could see was him. He was on the couch in the side of the room, cheeks flushed under his unkempt mane of blonde hair. His jacket was tucked around him, but you could see the way his shoulders shook, the way he bit his lip to ground himself.

“Y/N..” When you hit the couch next to him, it was almost second nature to drag him into your arms, his own surrounding you in a tight, almost suffocating hug. His head was buried in your neck, his tears dampening your jacket. But you couldn’t care less.“The stress just got to me, I’m sorry..”

“It’s okay, darling,” you murmured, your hands stroking his hair, his back, kissing the top of his head as he shuddered slightly against you.

“I’m not going anywhere. We’re not going anywhere. It’s okay, my love.”

[nose-bandaid]

그해 그 달 그날  (that year, that month, that day)

i Need a yanan fluff please! how about fluffy/angst one of him being really tired because hes recently just rejoined the group but loving being back and just needing some comfort and cuddles 🙁🙁

Yanan x (Gender Neutral) Reader fluff (with some angst) | 2.1k words

synopsis: yanan has finally returned to his group for promotions — and he’s elated, the happiest he’s ever been — yet he feels so tired. so, so tired. and so he comes to you for some comfort, and maybe some cuddles and sweet reassurances along the way.

a/n: hi yanon anon !! i hope that i got what you were going for with your prompt! i really like writing this i didn’t know how much i needed this yanan comfort + fluff until i finished it. i hope you enjoy reading it! :)

=====

You were just finishing up some of the last chores on your to-do list when your phone rang from the other side of the room. Skipping over the objects littered all over the floor (it’s funny how in order to clean, you sometimes had to make a mess first), you glanced at the screen and titled your head a little out of confusion when the caller ID read Yanannie. Not that it was unusual for your boyfriend to contact you throughout the day — you guys would text each other whenever you had the time to — but he rarely called unless it was something serious. He’d already established the fact that he preferred texting over calling, so a hint of worry laced your voice when you picked up.

“Hello?”

Yanan didn’t hesitate to get straight to the point. “Are you free tonight?”

“Huh? Yeah, why?”

There was some distant chatter on his side of the line and it sounded like he was trying to move away from it. “Can I come over? At like 7?”

“Sure,” The conversation stalled for a moment before you spoke again. “Is everything alright?”

Just like last time, he answered without missing a beat. “Yeah, I just want to come over.”

“Okay… Then I’ll see you at 7. I love you.”

You heard him mutter a soft “I love you” back before the mumbling near him grew louder and he quickly hung up, leaving you all alone.

You reasoned that the conversation was so awkward and rushed because he was busy — the group was in the middle of their promotions after all. But despite his words, all that call told you was that everything was in fact, not alright. The clock on your wall told you that you still had a couple hours to get all your work done and you sped through the tasks as fast as you could. 

By the time it was 6:00 (5:56 if you wanted to be really exact) everything was complete and you scrolled through your phone in search of a recipe you could follow. You weren’t the most amazing cook out there, but you could definitely make a few basic dishes, and hopefully, you’ll be able to make some sort of comfort food for him. Your eyes caught a familiar name and you looked through the recipe. If you recalled correctly, he really liked that dish, and the process didn’t seem to be that difficult either.

And so, you got up from the warmth of the blanket you had wrapped around you and headed to the kitchen to chop up the ingredients. Not too long after you began doing so, you heard the door knock and you panicked. Yanan wasn’t supposed to be here for another hour, and you were definitely nowhere near finishing the dish. You abandoned your little workstation and made your way to the door, in which you opened to come face to face with your boyfriend. 

Though the man in front of you looked nothing like the Yanan you were used to seeing. 

The last time you got to meet with him in person was about a week ago, when you joined his group for a company dinner. Back then, he seemed perfectly fine, laughing along with the others, looking absolutely stunning in the outfit he had on. But now, even the hat he had on refused to hide the messy strands of hair poking in all sorts of directions, and his posture was hunched, as if the weight of his backpack was far more than he could handle. He had his cute round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, but that didn’t hide the dark bags underneath his eyes, which lacked the mischievous glint he usually had when he was with you.

“Yanan… You look like a mess.” You pointed out meekly, as if he hadn’t realized that himself.

He let out a small pitiful laugh and took off his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I do, don’t I?”

You stepped back to allow him into your house and waited for him to take off his coat and set his bag down before engulfing him into a warm hug. The two of you stayed like that for a while, until you spoke up. “I was going to make you some food, but you came a little earlier than expected so I’ve just barely started.”

“Let’s just order takeout, don’t worry about cooking.” He muttered tiredly into the crook of your neck, his lips cold from the weather outside. “And I’m sorry, I know I came earlier than I said I would, I just really wanted to see you.”

You chuckled as you pulled apart, leaving a hand resting on his chest. “And I’ve missed you too. How about you take a shower while I’ll prepare some things to help you calm down?” You suggested.

He nodded silently and disappeared to your room. He’d stayed over enough times for you to have some of his spare clothes tucked in your closet, in case of any impromptu visits, like right now. As you heard the shower start to run, you returned to your kitchen and packed away all the ingredients you had prepared — you could always just use those later in some other dish — and then picked up your phone to dial his favourite Chinese restaurant. It was a small shop near your house that you first visited together a year ago and it quickly became a hidden treasure to Yanan. He loved the fact that it was always bustling with locals who respected his privacy and had some of the best food that reminded him of home. The owner laughed when she recognized your voice and order.

“I have some extra desserts that I don’t think we’ll be selling tonight, I’ll add them in there for Yanan. I know he likes them.” She added sweetly. She was like any generic auntie down the street, always taking care of the people she met, but you loved for that and smiled through the receiver. 

“Sure, that sounds great. Thank you so much”

You spent the next few minutes cozy-ing up the couch a little bit, grabbing a blanket from your room, and preparing a laptop so that you could watch the latest episodes of your favourite drama that aired a few days ago. You were in the midst of grabbing yourself a glass of water when Yanan walked out of the bathroom, towel resting on his matted wet hair as he dried himself off.

“Feeling any better?” You asked gently and he made his way over to the couch to join you under the blanket.

“A little, yeah.” He replied, nestling into the comfort of the cushions.

“I ordered the food, it should be here in about half an hour,” You continued. “And we’ve got some episodes we gotta catch up on so we can watch those while we wait.”

He simply nodded at your words, humming just the slightest bit. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at your finger hovering over the laptop. You pursed your lips at his reaction and drew back into yourself, daring to ask him the question that’s been on your mind since he called you. 

“Yanan… are you sure everything’s alright?”

He sighed and rubbed his face, you could practically feel the fatigue radiating off of him. Before he answered, he snuggled closer into your body. “Everything is alright, like I’m finally back with the boys and we’re all together again and promotions are going well, so how can things not be alright? Everything’s perfect…” His voice trailed off and he averted his gaze from yours.

“And yet I find it so hard to wake up everyday, I’m just so tired. I love doing this, I love seeing the fans and going to practice and sharing our new songs, but I’m so tired that I’m starting to get sick of this. Sure, everyone else is tired too, I know they are, but no one else seems to have it as bad as I am… I don’t know if I’m fit for being an idol anymore.” He paused again, and then added quietly.

“I don’t want to have to leave again, I want to keep on going.”

At a loss for what to say, you simply kissed him on the forehead and pulled him closer. “It’s okay to be tired, you know that right? That doesn’t make you any less of an idol, or a person, even. You wanna talk more about anything?”

For the next while, you listened to him talk about the good and the bad of his return, commenting here and there to reassure his thoughts. The toll, not just physical, but emotional as well, his recent return had on him was evident and your heart clenched at his tired state. 

The food came not much later and you spent the time eating as if you were in another world. Worries were pushed aside as you told each other silly stories and jokes about your friends, and you couldn’t help but smile when you saw his mood lift and his eyes sparkle once again. Even if it was just a little bit. You loved all sides of Yanan, but this was by far your favourite, and you wanted to keep him in this happy mood for as long as you possibly could.

One episode of your drama and many mouthfuls of the delicious food later, you found the two of you settling on the comfy couch once again. He rested his head on your lap, body stretched across the length of the couch and dangling on the other end a little bit. His hair had finally dried off and now its platinum strands were fluffy, enticing you to to run a hand through them. You giggled when they flopped back onto his forehead and continued doing so lovingly.

“Sorry to come over all of a sudden and be all needy.” He apologized. “I didn’t even ask how your day was.”

You shook your head in disagreement. “There is absolutely no reason for you to be sorry about something like this. I understand you’re tired, and like I said, it’s okay to be tired, you’re only human, Yanan. If you’re concerned about my day, it was fine, nothing special honestly, but today is all about you, okay?”

He let you gently pinch his cheek to make your point.

You pulled back the sleeve of your sweater to reveal the simple string bracelet that wrapped around your wrist over and over again. “You remember that day?” 

He smirked softly. “How could I forget?” He pulled up his own sleeve to reveal a matching bracelet in a different colour. “I asked the stylists to incorporate it into my outfit today so I could wear it on the stage and think of you.”

“You’re so cute.” You smiled. “Do you remember what we promised each other on that day?”

There was a short moment of silence as he recalled his memories. “That we wouldn’t give up?”

“That we wouldn’t give up.” You echoed. “No matter how hard it got, we’ll push through it.”

Life sucked at times. You both knew that. And sometimes it just sucked so bad and you aren’t able to do much about it. Especially with your busy schedules, moreso his busy schedule, seeing each other was difficult and chances to comfort each other physically was scarce. You could understand how the recent events would’ve affected him.

“You’re really strong, you know that?” You added in a whisper, and he sighed.

“I do… I’m just not feeling it today.”

“And that’s fine, it’ll come back to you soon.”

He nodded at your words. “Can I spend the night?” He then asked softly.

“Of course,” You answered, you were still playing with his hair, although your actions were a little more absentminded now. “You know you’re always welcomed here.”

“Mm, I wasn’t planning on sleeping over, but I’ve never felt this relaxed in so long.” He apologized anyways, as he stretched in your lap, looking almost like a cat with his long body, and his eyes stared up into yours. “I love you.”

You just smiled back, and it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep on your lap, eyelids fluttering every so often as he entered a deep slumber. Eventually your legs began to feel a little numb from the weight of his body on yours, but you didn’t do anything about it. Not when he was finally able to rest for the first time in a while. Soon enough, you also fell asleep on the couch, not in the very best position, admittedly, though that was a problem to deal with in the morning. Things like that could wait.

So yeah, life did suck at times. But if you had each other by your sides, you both knew you could get through it. And that “getting through it” could also mean taking a break, taking a moment to recollect yourself, before continuing that long run ahead of you.

And it’s okay if you need to take a break.