#and both of them were like drive six hours stay one day drive six hours

[verystressedcollegestudent]

god ive just completely wasted the last two months of my life haven't i 🙃

[inkchwe]

dancing with our hands tied ↦ sjy

⋆ pairing: sim (jake) jaeyun x fem!reader ⋆ word count: 7.7k ⋆ genre: semi-angst, fluff, smut (18+/mdni!) ⋆ tags: brothersbsf!jake, minor age difference, college au, friends with benefits, secret relationship, light choking, semi-public sex, oral (f + m receiving), fingering penetration, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex folks). ⋆ synopsis: What began as a simple friends-with-benefits situation with your brother's best friend has turned into something deeper, and you now find that your emotions are more complicated than you initially thought. ➸ bless @temptaetions for giving me so much amazing dialogue to work with and @sweetvenomnet for getting me through finishing this monster!

You did not envision Sunday morning sitting across from your brother, concealing the bottom half of your body with your comforter and Jake next to you in bed. Jay’s face is a jumble of shock and anger, fists balled at his sides. You’re unsure if he’s ready to kick his best friend’s ass or throw him out by his neck, or both.

“How the fuck did this fucking happen,” Jay yells.

Well, you think, the beginning is a lot easier to explain than where we’re at now…

The first night you slept with Jake six months ago was like any other. Jay, your older brother by two years, was home with his best friend for the weekend. They had bonded over their freshman year as dorm buddies and Jay immediately inserted Jake into the family. “He’s like the brother I never had,” Jay would say when people would comment on them being attached at the hip.

It was not unusual for the two of them to stay over at your parents’ house when they were back in town. The university was more than three hours away. If they tried to drive home the same day, it would only end in a headache thanks to the rush-hour traffic. 

It was nice to see Jay succeeding though, his footsteps being ones you’d hope to follow in one day. He had it all figured out, while you were anything but decided. Still unsure about what to do now that you had graduated, you chose to stay home and attend community college in the meantime.

But Jay occasionally being back in your presence meant he had to fulfill his annoying brotherly roles, like boring you with tales of campus and admonishing you for risqué outfit choices.

Like that night.

He stopped you short at the door with judgmental eyes scanning up and down your dress. “Absolutely not.”

You scoffed and pushed him out of your way. The dress hugged your curves just right and the color fit your aestethic. You knew when you bought it that the length wasn’t ideal for everyday wear, but it was perfect for a night out. Jay wouldn’t tell you otherwise. “You don’t have to act like Dad, dude.”

“Listen,” he said, rolling his eyes. “We all know you’re a woman. You don’t need to prove it with a little black dress.”

“Unless you’re blind, this dress is blue,” you mocked him.

“You know what I mean, smart-ass! You’re not leaving wearing that!”

“What’s going on,” Jake called from the kitchen.

“My sister’s about to walk out of the house in a napkin,” Jay responded, sarcasm dripping from his mouth.

“You’re such a prick,” you said, crossing your arms.

Jake sauntered into the sitting room, a bag of chips in his hand. He was taken back by the outfit, his eyes slowly trailing down your body. His Adam’s apple bobbed as Jay continued on his tirade about modesty to nobody but the air.

“You look pretty,” Jake said finally. He popped a chip in his mouth.

Your cheeks turned red instantly. Jay’s best friend wasn’t unattractive to look at, not in the slightest, so hearing him say such a thing even in quick passing made your body tense.

Before you could thank him for the compliment, Jay coughed like he swallowed his own spit.

“Did you just say she looks pretty?” Jay asked in his best friend’s direction.

Jake chomped down on another chip. “What,” he said, his mouth full.

“If I heard that right, you just said my sister looks pretty in her dress.”

“Yes?” Jake’s expression morphed into confusion as your brother’s face went pale.

“Do you have a death wish?” Jay asked.

“Bro, c’mon—”

“No, seriously. Do you?”

You backed up towards the door, making sure not to clack your heels too hard on the tile to be noticed.

Jay, however, sensed your escape. “I meant it! You’re not leaving without putting something else on.”

“Seongie, stop being an asshole. I’m gonna be late,” you whined.

“Dude, all I said was that she looked pretty,” Jake butted in.

Jay turned his focus back to him. “You said the girl you fucked at that club on Fifth was pretty.”

“Bro, I’m not gonna fuck—” Jake ran his free hand through his hair, smiling in incredulity at the ridiculous conversation. “Just trust me.”

“Finish that sentence.”

Jake scoffed, mouth agape. “What the hell, man?”

“Finish. The. Sentence. Jaeyun.”

“Okay, if you’re done being weirdly overprotective and Jaeyun’s done taking back his compliment, I have a happy hour to go to.”

Jay was so preoccupied with Jake at that point that he barely registered your words and your exit from the house. Before he could protest again, Jake interrupted him.

“I’m not going to fuck your sister, Jong,” he says.

“Thanks, that’s reassuring,” Jay responded.

As you closed the door, you heard Jake say, “But if she fucks me, that’s a different story.”

Despite walking down the cobblestone pathway, you heard Jake’s cries from your older brother whacking him. Jay screamed, “You sick fuck!”

Your cheeks felt hot when you finally got inside of your friend’s car. You greeted them with a smile when you sat in the back seat, but your mind kept playing back Jake’s words. He must have had enough pickings on campus and in his hometown to keep him satisfied. He didn’t need to put his effort or interest in you. There’s no way that he would, right?

Five hours later, the clock just shy of 1 AM, you stepped quietly inside to not wake your parents. Tiptoeing up the stairs to your room, you didn’t see Jay’s bedroom light on, certain he was fast asleep. That gave you some relief knowing he didn’t stick around to admonish you for not listening to his forceful advice.

What you weren’t expecting was Jake to be sprawled out on your bed, his body akin to a limp starfish. He had been scrolling endlessly through his Instagram feed until you creaked open the door to your room.

A silent scream jolted your pulse. “Jaeyun, what the fuck are you doing here?” you asked.

“Jongseong told me to wait for you. He wanted to make sure you got home safe,” Jake said absentmindedly, like being in your bed is a natural occurrence by now.

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. “Helicopter Himbo couldn’t do that himself?”

“He linked up with some girl he knows…Dahyun I think was her name?”

You sighed. Of course Jay had to hook up with his high school ex when he had no other options to exhaust. You thought Jay had higher standards than that at this point in his life, but he was still Jay.

You nodded. The soles of your feet throbbed from wearing your heels longer than you intended to. You tried to hide the pain on your face, but Jake was quick to walk over to you and feign concern.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. I’m just slightly buzzed and I’d like to see the inside of my eyelids and forget how bad my feet hurt right now.” You released a breathless laugh. “You can text my doofus of a brother and tell him I’m in one piece.” 

You practically motioned your head towards the door, but Jake only smirked in response.

“Well, first things first, let’s take these off.” Before you knew it, Jake leaned down and began unbuckling the clasps of your stilettos for you. The sight made the alcoholic buzz running through your veins mutate into something sensual. You felt the ache between your legs as Jake’s fingers caressed the skin of your ankle as he was taking off your shoes for you, and immediately you remembered who he was.

This was wrong, and in no way going to happen. Not with someone who your brother confided in and loved so dearly. No matter how it felt every time you looked at him, or if he did intimate things like this that made you question everything.

“I meant what I said earlier you know,” Jake whispered. “And I wasn’t trying to take it back when Jongseong was grilling me about it.”

“I get it. He can be intense sometimes,” you mumbled.

“But you did look pretty. Fuck, you still do.” Jake chuckled to himself and positioned your feet out of the shoes and onto the carpet floor. The fabric felt cool against your toes, and instinctively you released a pleasurable sigh.

“So much better,” you moaned, smiling. “Thank you.”

Jake stood up, his grin infectious. “My pleasure.”

Neither of you moved, and admittedly you were glad Jake hadn’t made his exit yet. In the blur between your gratitude and onslaught of confusing feelings, the tether between your head and your body loosened. 

Then you were kissing him. You were kissing your brother’s best friend and enjoying it very much, an amalgamation of all the passing glances you threw at him when Jay wasn’t looking and the semi-flirty conversations coming to a head in your lips and tongue.

Jake was kissing you back with the same fervor, his hands roaming to the curve of your ass and groaning in your mouth at the sensation of your bodies touching.

“Fuck,” Jake swore and pulled you in tighter, clutching at the hem of your dress.

In a tangle of fingers and lips, you almost didn’t register the feeling of your mattress against your back and the cool air on your skin when Jake pulled the dress down your body. But you did relish in the feeling of his tongue between your legs and how deliciously he slipped inside of you afterwards. And by that point, there was no time to regret and worry about what would happen next. All that mattered was the present and savoring it.

Three weeks after that first encounter, it was easy to forget it ever happened. The next morning, Jay and Jake had gone back to campus without a word. That was normal for them, seeing as they woke early and didn’t want to disturb anyone in the house.

For you, it was a bit disheartening, but it proved exactly what you knew. It was a mistake and a potential repeat was nonexistent. “Jeong’ll never find out and this can stay buried,” you told yourself.

Jay was too busy with his studies to respond with anything but one-word answers to your texts after that, so you gave up initiating anything. Jake, however, began texting you often to either greet you in the morning or say he hoped you were having a good day. It was sweet, but you didn’t read too deep into it. You replied in kind and left it at that.

Then, the boys came back one Friday afternoon in Jake’s Tahoe, and your nerves were live wires at their impromptu arrival. You had not seen Jake since that night in your bedroom. You felt the heaviness of guilt when you welcomed Jay home with a hug. A secret shouldn’t have had the power to eat you alive,  but it did all the same.

And it didn’t help seeing Jake either. His smile took you back to the hours you had spent together in your bed. It was a kaleidoscope of memories. His hands on your hips, his whispers in your ear, his mouth in between your legs— 

“Yo!” Jay waved his hand in front of your face. “I asked if you could help us with the last duffel bag.”

“Yeah, of course,” you said, walking over to the trunk. Jake’s shoulder brushed yours as you moved past him, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched. If you weren’t deluding yourself, you could’ve sworn you heard his throat catch in the same way.

You decided to leave the house that night, meeting up with a classmate to take your mind off of what was waiting at home. The Uber driver was polite, not bothering you as you were lost in your thoughts. Thankfully, the tequila sunrise you gulped down numbed your thought processes long enough that you could unwind and converse without rambling on about the situation you were in.

Then, you heard the ping of your phone and saw Jake’s message light up the screen.

Received at 11:23 PM: I’m picking you up. JS doesn’t want you taking an Uber when you’re not sober.

You sighed and typed back a reply with the hand not holding your drink. The words might have been mistyped, but you knew the message would get across to him.

Sent at 11:27 PM: im find u dont ned to come th last guy w nice.

Received at 11:29 PM: Sure. I’ll be there in 15.

You groaned. Jake could be as stubborn as your brother; it was no surprise the two of them became such good friends.

When Jake’s arrival came closer, you said goodbye and walked out of the bar, kicking your feet on the sidewalk gravel while you waited.

His truck’s lights came into full view a minute later. You got inside without a word, leaning your forehead against the passenger window. Just because he was being stubborn didn’t mean you had to be okay with it.

“Have fun?” Jake kept his focus on the road, but he sounded sincere when he asked about your night. While your heart swelled at the tone of his voice, it made the thoughts you tried so hard to suppress creep back in with full force. You were at a loss as to what to say. Honesty was off the table, but you weren’t capable of pulling your heart from your sleeve.

“I was. Not anymore.” You pouted.

You didn’t let him respond to your comment, instead looking around at his car’s interior and changing the subject. “I didn’t expect you to own a Tahoe.”

“What do you mean?” He asked with a chuckle.

“It’s so much space for one person.”

“Well, it was my dad’s truck. He gave it to me before I left for school. Now, I use it to go hiking and stuff with my dog, Layla.”

You smiled and leaned into the seat, looking at him. “That’s hard to believe.”

“That I have a dog or that I actually do physical activity? You’ve seen my body.”

You giggled and turned away. “I guess both. I’ve always wanted a dog, but Jungseong’s allergic. My parents thought plushies were a good compromise. And it all makes sense now. You can’t be that handsome naturally.”

Jake laughed harder. Without warning, he put his hand on your thigh, the feeling foreign yet incredibly welcome. You hummed in pleasure at the sensation. While you would’ve loved to enjoy the moment, your logic kicked in at the scene playing out in front of you.

“Jaeyun, you can’t just do that.”

“Why not? I wanted to,” he confessed, squeezing the curve of your knee. He moved his hand slowly across your skin.

You bit your lip and shook your head. “Just because you want to doesn’t mean you should.”

“Are we still talking about my hand or something else?” You gave him a stern but cutting look, the Are you kidding me evident in your eyes. It made Jake curse into the open air. “Fuck this.”

Jake pulled off into a vacant parking lot of a convenience store, one lamppost barely lighting the surrounding area. He put the car in park with an aggressive fist on the stick shift.

“Okay,” he started. “You want to talk about that night? Let’s talk about it.”

He inhaled a breath. You were terrified of what was unsaid and what he planned on saying, but you knew it was better to put it to rest sooner rather than later.

���I’m not sorry for what happened that night. I liked it and I liked you.” He looked directly into your eyes, his pupils dilating with extreme vulnerability. “I like you. And I’d like to repeat that night as many times as you want, but you’re my best friend’s sister and I don’t know how to accept those two things being true at once.”

You were taken back, his words the ones you wish you could have said to him before he left that morning. You tried to stamp down the truth many times since then, but Jake feeling the exact same way made you realize it wasn’t wrong to want what you wanted.

And Jay didn’t have to know everything.

“I do too,” you responded. “I like you too, and that night is all I’ve been thinking about.” You felt the knot in your stomach loosen, smiling in surprise from his confession. “And I would like to have more of those nights, for sure. In more than just my bed.”

Jake smirked and leaned in closer to you, lips ghosting over yours. “So if I said I wanted to fuck you in my car, you’d let me?”

You didn’t respond to that question with words, both of you knowing the question itself was rhetorical. You pressed your mouth to his hard.

The kiss was a clash of teeth and tongue, the act a desperate plea to pull each other closer after weeks of not being together. Now that you had Jake where you wanted him, you weren’t letting him go. 

Jake palmed one of your breasts over your shirt, and you partially broke away from his mouth to moan. He swallowed it, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

“You like that?” Jake asked, his voice husky.

“Fuck yes,” you said, knowing it was the truth. Nothing felt better than his touch on your skin.

He grabbed the side of your throat with his free palm. The other was hovering over the waistband of your shorts, his thumbs deftly unbuttoning them and dragging the zipper down.

“Tell me now if you don’t want this,” he panted. “And I swear I’ll stop.”

You shook your head vigorously. “If you stop right now, Jaeyun, I might just have to kill you.”

Jake gave you a crooked smile and kissed you again, harder than the first time but just as pleasurable.

His fingers dipped into your underwear, and you both groaned when he found your clit. He was surprised that the little amount of foreplay already made you this wet. You were just glad to have his fingers where you needed them the most.

You moved your hips in rhythm with his digits, the figure-eight patterns he was drawing into your skin creating stars behind your eyes. You released numerous whimpers and gasps into Jake’s mouth as he kept rubbing up and down your pussy, your clit receiving the most attention.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Jaeyun, I need you inside of me, please,” you begged. You gripped onto his shirt tightly to emphasize how bad the desire was to feel him stretch you open.

He nipped your lips again. “Climb in the back seat, baby.”

Jake followed in suit as soon as you moved from the passenger seat to the back. Once he sat down, you had his pants around his ankles and the head of his dick lined up with your entrance, your panties moved to the side to make room for him.

The fullness of his cock filling you to the hilt made your eyelids flutter. Jake knocked the back of his head into one of the headrests, the groan that left his mouth so beautiful you wished you could’ve replayed the sound on loop.

“God, you’re so tight.” He pushed his hips up further into you, the tip kissing your cervix. “It’s fucking incredible.”

You moaned in agreement. Beginning to grind his hips into yours, you licked and sucked the spot behind Jaeyun’s ear. You remembered how much he loved it the first night you had sex, and he loved it even more now that you were partially in control riding him.

He bucked up into you here and there, but for the most part, you were setting the pace. The sounds of your skin slapping against each other as well as both of your moan-laced expletives filled the back seat.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Bounce on this cock. Show me how much you want me.” He trapped your hips with his hands, holding on tight as you continued to grind against him.

“I want to come so bad, Jae,” you gasped. “Please make me come.”

Jake took his index and middle finger and found your clit again. He circled the nub with tenderness as you continued to ride him without mercy. He knew he could come at anytime with how well you were touching him and taking all of him inside of you, but he had no problem waiting until you found your pleasure first.

You felt the orgasm creeping up on you, starting in the pit of your stomach and ready to come to the surface. You begin to grow sloppy with your rhythm, and Jake took extra effort with his fingers to push you over the edge.

“Let go for me, love. Come all over me.”

You cried out, clutching onto Jake’s hair hard as you rode out your orgasm to its full capacity. Jake let go in that same moment, painting your insides white and cursing the entire time at how good it felt.

When you sat down next to him in the back seat, both of you sated and breathless, you knew the path forward was uncertain. And sure, a million questions still lingered in your mind, but you stored them away without a second thought, refusing to let them ruin your current happiness.

This led to where you were with Jake for the past six months, having sex every time he was in town and even sneaking off to visit him when you had the chance. He would pick you up in his truck and hold your hand across the console the entire drive to and from his student apartment. The two of you were skilled at keeping your trysts out of sight from Jay both in your hometown and on campus, the local spots he wanted to take you to and your favorite hometown stores not ones Jay frequented often.

At the same time, Jay had gotten back into a relationship with Dahyun, but you were optimistic for the both of them this time around. He seemed to be really happy, as were you, although he didn’t know the reason why. Dahyun would hang out with the guys and you when she got off work, and the four of you would drink and watch movies together like any other couples would.

The only part that didn’t fit such a picture perfect image was the fact you and Jake were not a couple at all. You slept together and did most things boyfriends and girlfriends did, but there were no labels. It was as if saying it out loud would make it real, and then you’d have to confront the biggest hurdle of all: telling your brother. And you were determined to put that off for as long as possible.

One morning, as you made breakfast in the kitchen for all three of you, Jake slid in behind you without you noticing. You gasped, feeling his chest against your back. “Jae, you can’t do that!”

“Couldn’t help it. Smelled pretty good in here,” Jake responded, kissing the spot that joined your neck and shoulder together, his hair tickling your ear in the process.

“I know, I can’t wait to eat it.”

“I was gonna say the same thing.” Jake smirked.

“Jae,” you reprimanded him, grinning. “Jongseong could come down at any second.”

“But he’s not. Last time I checked, he was still asleep.” The curve of his lips touched your collarbone, making you shiver.

“And when was that?”

In that moment, you both heard Jay yelling “I did it!” in tandem with his quick steps down the staircase. You both split apart in record time. Jake pretended he was searching for a drink in the fridge while you flipped the fried egg in the pan.

“I finally did it,” Jay exclaimed, a wide smile on his face directed at Jake.

“Did what?” Jake asked.

“I got you a date with Dahyun’s cousin Jihyo tonight. Dahyun’s been dying to go out to this new restaurant downtown, and I know you’ve been lacking in the pussy department lately.” You felt the saliva in the back of your mouth hit the wrong pipe, and you coughed.

“You okay, sis?” Jay asked, grabbing you by the shoulder.

“Yeah. Just choked for a second, sorry.” There was nothing wrong with Jake going out; he had no obligations to you. Yet, at the same time, the thought of him finding someone new felt like acid on your tongue.

Jay turned back to Jake, excitement filling his features again. “Come on man, you haven’t picked anyone up in what? Five months? Either your game got terrible or you’ve been holding out on me about some new chick.”

You plopped the fried egg on the plate next to you and motioned for Jake to pick it up. “Over medium, how you like it.”

“How do you know his egg order, freak?” Jay questioned you with a chuckle.

“I asked him this morning, dingbat. While you were snoring in your room and told me to leave so you could get your beauty rest.” Jay gave you the middle finger but you didn’t pay attention to him. You looked back at Jake with shy eyes. “You want toast?”

“No thank you,” Jake said with a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. You could tell when Jake was uncomfortable. His entire body grew stiff at the thought of being roped into a double date with a stranger.

But, avoiding suspicion, Jake said, “Sure man. Can’t promise I’ll be into her, though.”

Jay smiled and patted his friend on the shoulder. “I’ll take it.”

When Jay ran back upstairs to call Dahyun with the news, Jake dropped his plate back on the counter. He suddenly pinned you against it with his hands on your waist, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t have to go on this date if you don’t want me to.”

You shook your head, the faintest frown on your face, hoping it looked more like an expression of indifference. “If you don’t, Seongie’s going to ask more questions. Besides, we’re not together. You don’t have to ask for my permission.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” He furrowed his eyebrows. If there was one emotion you didn’t show him often, it was ice. But if the alternative was being emotionally exposed in that moment, you would choose the former.

“You know what I mean.” You broke free from his grasp, swallowing the bitter taste in your mouth. You turned off the stove and threw the sizzling pan into the sink. “Hope you have fun.”

Jake waited for you to elaborate, but after a minute of silence, he admitted his defeat and walked out of the kitchen. It cracked a piece of your heart to be so cold, but what other choices were on the table?

Once he was gone, you grabbed your phone from your pocket. Typing out the number in your mind and pressing the call button, you hoped the man you were looking for answered.

“Sunghoon?” You spoke, relieved he picked up. “I need a huge favor.”

“Do I have to?” Sunghoon groaned, straightening the collar of his polo shirt. “This is so ridiculous.”

“Hold my fucking hand, Hoon, or I swear to god I will tell Professor Choi you used my essay on Machiavelli for your paper.”

He released a low, agitated sound and put his hand in yours, squeezing your palm in retaliation. You smiled and walked into the restaurant. 

You didn’t go all out with your outfit. A simple dress and denim jacket fit with the atmosphere of the Brazilian barbecue joint Dahyun wanted to check out. Sunghoon also followed your instructions to the letter, looking presentable without trying too hard.

The hostess made you both wait fifteen minutes or so for a table. Even at 9 PM on a Saturday, past normal dinner time for most folks, the business was still bustling due to the word of mouth from their grand opening a week ago. It didn’t take long though for you to find Jay and Jake sitting at a table in a corner booth. It was like Jake’s presence in any tiny or expansive space was a magnet, pulling you in without giving you space to put up a fight.

“So that’s the guy,” Sunghoon stated, staring at Jake next to your brother. “He’s cute. I see why you’re in love with him.”

“Shut up!” You laughed and smacked him in the chest. He pretended to act hurt, smiling the entire time.

Your Humanities classmate might have been too sarcastic and vain for his own good, but you knew he was a good friend and would always come if you called. And while it was purely platonic, he didn’t mind playing the part of the arm candy for another free essay.

In the midst of your shared laughter, neither of you saw both Jay and Jake walking over to you. Jay’s cough pulled you out of your trance, and you stood stock still at the sight of Jake’s clenched jaw and crossed arms, immediately dropping Sunghoon’s hand in the process.

Jay said your name in annoyance. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hoon and I have class together, but we decided to have dinner after studying,” you say with a smile. “Funny we’d be at the same place as you guys!”

“You have my location, dipshit,” Jay said with a stone face.

“Just because I have it doesn’t mean I look at it,” you said in your defense.

Hoon held his hand out to both men, but you knew it was bait specifically meant for Jake. “Nice to meet you.”

Jake clenched his jaw even tighter. You thought he would break the bottom half of his face if he kept it up. To your surprise, he grabbed Sunghoon’s hand like a pure gentleman. Jay did the same.

You immediately felt so small. It didn’t have to be this way, trying to pull a front for this guy that wasn’t even yours. If it took this much effort to be exclusive, a title you didn’t fight for to begin with, maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

When Sunghoon let go of Jay’s hand, you grabbed him by the bicep. “We can just go somewhere else. We’ll probably wait another hour before getting a table if we stay, anyway.”

Jay agreed. “I had to book this in advance, so she’s probably right.”

Jake looked directly in your eyes when he said, “Hope you have fun.” Mirroring your words from earlier, Jake’s were laced with spiteful sarcasm.

Sunghoon put a hand on the small of your back and guided the two of you out of the restaurant. It took everything in you to not turn back and reveal it all in that stupid restaurant, but you circled back to your initial thoughts. What would it do attempting to claim him now? It was already pointless.

You didn’t make it home until midnight, spending the night scarfing down Chinese with Sunghoon in his apartment and watching old seasons of New Girl together. It was a bitch thinking about what it would be like when you got home. Jay would quiz you on Sunghoon and his motives or Jake would get defensive on what you were doing with the guy to begin with. Or both.

The last piece of advice Sunghoon left you with as he drove off was to “be honest” with Jake, if that was any bit as simple as it sounded coming out of his mouth.

You stepped inside your house without a care for your noise level, knowing your parents were off on an overseas conference for four days. And what were the chances the guys had gotten home by now?

 But, like the first night you had spent together, Jake was waiting up for you in your room, sitting stock straight with his hands in his lap.

You didn’t freak out or feel shocked by his presence. You were glad to see him actually, but greeting him with anything but a hello would have been inappropriate given the last few hours.

“Hi,” you began.

“Why have you been gone so long?” His voice was clipped, matter-of-fact but laced with authority. The mixture of sadness and anger in his face surprised you. Jake was always fun, silly, casual…never like this.

“I lost track of time.” It was the easiest answer to give him, even if it wasn’t enough to assuage his concerns. “We just ate takeout and watched sitcoms.”

He nodded and stood up. Walking closer to you, the emotions on his face registered to you so clearly now. The anger was simply misplaced pain, unsure where to go but in front of you for an answer. “What do you want from me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m asking you what this is, what are we doing here?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Seeing you tonight with that dickhead was all I thought about while eating that churrasco and listening to Jay’s dumb jokes. And if that’s against some unspoken rule, I need to know.”

You gulped down a heavy bubble of air. It was now or never. Choose to either lose the guy you had spent so much time with by keeping your feelings to yourself or risk him breaking your heart by being vulnerable.

“I don’t want you going on dates with anyone else.” You beginning with that wasn’t perfect, but you were out of ideas.

He nodded. “Okay.”

“Sunghoon’s a friend, but you’re my best friend. And you make me feel like nobody else ever has.” Your lip quivered. “I feel like an idiot for not saying it before, but I’ve liked you since the second Jay introduced all of us to you. And maybe all you want out of this is exclusive sex and I’m even more of an idiot for saying all of this but—”

Jake caught your mouth in a perfect kiss, effectively shutting you up. A tear passed between your lips, but he was all you tasted. He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes bright and expression full of mirth. “You’re a beautiful idiot, but still an idiot for not realizing I feel the same..”

You gasped. Grabbing his shirt, you pulled him back in hungrily.

The subsequent kisses and touches were ripe with the things you didn’t know how to say in words but could easily express with your body. Every kiss on his jaw told him how enraptured he made you feel. Each pass of your hands exploring his naked skin expressed why you saw nobody but him in the most crowded room. And when you took him into your mouth, you hoped Jake knew why it was so easy to fall for him and want nobody else.

“Just like that,” he said, tenderly grabbing your hair as you stroked what you couldn’t fit past your lips.

It didn’t last long. Jake pulled you in his arms and said, “I want to be inside you.” 

Jake held you as you sunk down onto him. Your legs were wrapped around his waist as he sat on the edge of the bed, rocking his hips up into you. No matter how many times you had sex, it still felt incredible feeling all of him fitting around the spaces inside of you. You wished he could occupy them forever.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed, clutching the hair at the nape of his neck. Your bodies were slick, foreheads touching but slippery from perspiration.

But it didn’t matter how loud you were being or how sweaty your skin became. All you could focus on was the words that came out of Jake’s mouth. “God, I love you so much.”

It didn’t make you slow down, instead riding him faster and kissing him fervently in response. You mewled into his mouth, feeling yourself coming undone quickly.

“I’m gonna come,” you announced.

“Right there with you, sweetheart. Come with me,” he said, and so you did. You felt the warmth of him inside of you in tandem with the downfall of your orgasm, siphoning every drop until you were spent.

When you were lying next to each other, however, you remembered those three little words that slipped from his mouth.

“You said you loved me,” you stated in post-coitus bliss, covering half of your face with your comforter.

“So what if I did?” He was glowing, and it only made you smile harder. “So what if I do?”

You smirked and pecked his lips sweetly, nipping his bottom lip. “I love you too, you goof.”

You woke up next to each other that morning, both in a euphoric daze despite your fatigue. You also took into account how you now held the title of Jake’s girlfriend, a majority of the reason why you were a thousand leagues above cloud nine. Jake showed his joy in the form of his tongue pressed to your clit. 

But it didn’t last for long.

You weren’t fast enough to cover yourself when Jay barged in asking whether or not you had seen Jake at all. Little did he know he would find his best friend in the last place he ever expected.

Which led to now, your brother interrogating the two of you like you committed the worst crime humanly possible. In a way, you could see why he would think such a thing.

“So you kiss my sister—” Jay starts.

You cut him off, grabbing Jake’s hand. “I kissed him first.”

“Then you decide to hook up in my car.”

“It was actually my car.” Jake counters, squeezing your fingers with his own.

“And now I find you guys here in your room”—Jay looks directly at you—“just doing whatever the fuck you were doing before I came in.” His face is red from the shock. “How long has this been going on?”

“Six months,” Jake says.

Jay takes a deep breath of air into his lungs, his body rising and falling at a rapid rate. He’s probably grateful your parents can’t hear him yelling. Otherwise they’d come in and ask more invasive questions while you’re not in the position to answer them, half naked and all.

“And where was I while you guys were fucking behind my back?” Jay asks, darting his eyes between the both of you.

“Hanging out between Dahyun’s legs?” You hypothesize, throwing your other hand in the air. “How the hell are we supposed to remember?”

“And you expect me to believe you kissed his scrawny ass first?” Jay asks you.

“Dude, you’ve seen me shirtless,” Jake remarks, rolling his eyes.

 “True, but it’s not much of a show, bro.”

“Seriously, this is not the point!” You yell, placing your face in your hands.

“Yes it is! You’re my sister!”

“And she’s my girlfriend,” Jake interrupts, “so you need to get your head out of your ass and stop acting like she’s not capable of taking care of herself.”

Jake stands up to Jay, the two of them face to face with each other in a way you expected when your relationship came out of the shadows. You don’t want Jay to feel betrayed, but at the same time, it will kill you if Jake gets hurt trying to stick up for you.

“My priority will always be looking out for my family.” Jay turns to you, disappointment clear as day in his eyes. “No matter how I’ve shown it, I didn’t expect to be branded the bad guy for wanting to protect you.”

Jay slams the door on his way out. Tears prick your eyes, silence permeating the bedroom.

Jake sits back down next to you and places a few kisses on the curve of your shoulder. “Believe it or not, but I think he took it better than I thought he would.”

“He hates me,” you sob.

“He doesn’t hate you. Maybe me, but never you.” Jake takes your hand and kisses the inside of your palm, tucking it gingerly between his fingers. “Nobody could ever hate you.”

“I need to fix this, though.” You swiftly kiss Jake’s lips before standing up to get dressed, throwing on a pair of gym shorts and one of his shirts you stole. When you go to Jay’s room, it’s empty. But you hear the faint notes of a guitar from somewhere on the first floor of the house.

You walk down the stairs to find Jay strumming his favorite Yamaha in the living room, the one your father brought home from a trip to Japan for Jay as his graduation present. You step towards his spot on the couch quietly, but he’s already too adept at sensing your presence. He stops playing but says nothing.

“Hey,” you say.

“Don’t.” Jay’s voice is gruff. “Don’t ‘hey’ me right now.”

“Well, if you’re looking for an apology, I’m not going to give you one.”

The two of you are silent, unsure where to take the conversation next. What was there to say? Yes, you felt guilty for keeping Jay in the dark, but either way, the situation would hurt him. His best friend and his younger sister falling in love is not ideal, but feelings couldn’t be fought. All the same, the deceit sat in your stomach like a stone, begging to be thrown away.

You sigh and sit down on the love-seat, adjacent to Jay’s spot on the couch. “I really like him, Seongie,” you confess. “No. I, actually—I love him.”

Jay looks directly at you for the first time, his eyes a bit puffy. “Are you happy?”

“What?”

“Are you happy? Does he treat you well?”

You laugh. “I mean we’ve only been a couple for about 12 hours, so—”

“You know what I mean, asshat.” The two of you share a laugh together, the mood much lighter than before. “Do you see a future with him?”

You nod. “Yeah, I do.”

“Then I can’t get in between that. I just wish one of you would’ve fucking said something.”

“And I would’ve, but you know Jaeyun.”

Jay nods. “He’s a wimp.”

“No,” you shake your head, smiling. “He just didn’t want to hurt you either. He loves you, and I love you, too.” You run a hand through your hair, contemplating your next words. “I’m just not a baby anymore, Jongseong. I know how to handle things.”

Jay nods, sniffling. “I know. It’s just…hard.”

“What is?”

He puts his guitar by his side. Clapping his hands together, he tries to brush off whatever emotion is surfacing. “It’s nothing, I don’t know. Stupid, probably.”

You move positions to sit closer to your brother, placing a hand on his knee. “Nothing you say to me could ever be stupid.”

He knocks you in the shoulder with his fist lightly. “It’s just—when did you get so grown up? You gotta stop doing that.”

“If I did, I’d be dead.”

“True.” Jay chuckles. “I’m sorry for freaking out.”

“I’m sorry for keeping it from you. And I hope you and Jaeyun can talk, too.”

“We will. For now, I’m just glad we did.”

Nodding, you open your arms for a hug, a hug that Jay gladly accepts. It’s a tight one that encompasses both a white flag of retreat and a sincere love for you that you forget to remember sometimes in the midst of his teasing and admonishment. You now know, more than ever, it’s his way of protecting you and proving he cares.

And you’re grateful to have both him and now Jake by your side through all your successes and slip-ups.

“You don’t seriously think I’m okay with you wearing that dress again now that you have a boyfriend, right,” Jay asks. “I’m even more against it because Jake will have a heart attack.”

You chuckle and twirl in the mirror, checking the back of your dress to make sure it’s sitting right on you. “He thought I looked pretty in it the first time.”

“Well now, he’s not worried about you looking pretty. He’s worried about other douchebags checking you out.” Jay flips the page of his book, trying to feign a nonchalant expression. “I’m just saying, he’s still my best friend. I know things.”

You poke your tongue out at your brother. The doorbell rings and you rush to answer, your heart beating at a vigorous pace in your chest.

Once you open the door, Jake’s standing there with a bouquet of flowers and a lopsided grin on his face. When he sees your dress, however, his smile falters a fraction.

“Oh my god, Jay was right!”

“I usually am,” Jay yells from his space in the sitting room armchair.

Jake looks confused, but the realization dawns on him in a flash. “No, you look beautiful. It’s just…a bit short, don’t you think?”

You pout, crossing your arms. “I spent so much time getting ready, Jae.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He takes his free hand and rests it on your hip. “And everyone will be able to see that. I just don’t want to have to fight anyone off at the restaurant.”

You giggle. Going in for an impromptu kiss, you smell the traces of his cologne. The scent could make your knees buckle, but you try to stay confident and lull your boyfriend into submission. “I’ll only be looking at you. And I can defend myself just fine, baby.”

Jake’s bottom lip juts out. “So, I can’t convince you to change?”

You shake your head, grinning.

Jay sneaks up behind you, making you gasp. “If she isn’t gonna listen to her brother, she’s definitely not gonna listen to you, man.”

Jay and Jake exchange a handshake. You’re relieved their relationship has recovered from the reveal of your relationship, but you know that means they have the potential to gang up on you more out of their misguided sense of protection.

“I have the advantage though. She’s in love with me,” Jake sing-songs, kissing you on the cheek after doing so.

“Regardless,” you say, “I’m wearing the dress.”

Jay rolls his eyes. “Just change, for fuck’s sake.”

Jake nods. “Pretty please?”

“Not a chance in hell, boys.”

[folkloresthings]

Hello darling I have a request from prompt ‘we were supposed to be just friends’. Lando x fem!reader, she work as legal for McLaren, they met at the McLaren technology center, and from the begging they had this special bond. During a party in a disco in uk with his friends, he stay very close to her and try to kiss her. After a sec of confusion, they kissing each other.

❛ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ❜ ❨ lando norris x reader ❩

where lando has loved the mclaren legal officer from the second he set eyes on her and has finally decided to do something about it.

eight months out of university and working in a coffee shop was not exactly how you had pictured your life post-graduation. you had a law degree from one of the best schools in england, but all it was doing was gathering dust on a frame in your living room. nights were spent in front of the television, only half paying attention, with your laptop screen lit up with job postings. it was like the four years of knowledge was itching to be used, instead of idle hands pouring overpriced iced lattes.

admittedly, you didn't remember applying for the job at mclaren. you were so desperate that you had sent your resume to every posting you could find, barely sparing a second glance at the job summary. it was only when they emailed with an interview date did you do your research. they were a formula one team, and a pretty good one at that. the sport had never much been your thing so you hadn't a clue what kind of work you'd be doing.

but it was work. legal work.

the interview went smoothly, then the second, and the third. they seemed to love you and your education. thankfully the internships you had done during university made up for your lack of experience. they hired you and had you come up to headquarters the next day. the drive from london to woking was full of jitters, turning your radio up to block out the nervous thoughts.

"ah, y/n! welcome to the mclaren technology centre." zak brown was the one to greet you by the front desk, with a smile and a firm handshake. you had spoken during your last interview, the final hurdle with the boss, and thankfully you got along fine. despite your age and greenness in the legal world, zak admitted he saw potential in you. they had gone through six other employees in the past two years for this position, all much older and more experienced. they needed a change.

"this is where you'll be working when you're in-office," zak explained, leading the way through a tour of the centre. it was much bigger than you expected, so modern and open. yeah, you could picture yourself here. "we usually would have you here one or two days a week, the others you can work from home. is that okay?"

"that's perfect," you agree, nodding happily. "i live in london, so the drive is only about an hour."

zak grins, continuing the tour and filling each space with small talk; your education, upbringing, hobbies. he only laughed when you sheepishly told him you knew very little about formula one, and didn't have a huge interest in the sport.

"you'd be surprised how many people here don't watch it," he chuckled, his american accent strange in the midst of the english countryside. "ah, speaking of. boys!"

in the foyer, at the end of the hall, two heads whip around at zak's call. both in the mclaren colours, one was thinner and smiling crookedly. the other, well. he was...

"lando, oscar, i want you to meet y/n. she's our new internal legal officer," zak explained. "meaning if you fuck up in any way, she'll have to deal with it."

the three men laugh, bringing your own bashful smile to wake.

"hi, i'm oscar," the thinner boy speaks in a soft australian accent, shaking your hand. "but it's lando here that you'll have to keep an eye on. i'm always on my best behaviour."

lando. he'd been staring at you since zak dragged you over to them, barely blinking despite for the odd laugh. he blushes then, gently nudging oscar with his elbow. he meets your eyes and his mouth goes dry, lips parting like a fish out of water as he tries desperately to think of something witty to say.

"don't worry, if you don't do anything wrong then i won't have anything to do," you jest, breaking the silence. a grin pulls at your mouth with the words, soon mirrored by the two drivers.

"i think i'd rather you didn't, then," zak scoffs, patting your shoulder. "go get settled, i'll come check on you in a while. boys, we've got that meeting in ten — c'mon."

smiling gratefully, you nod towards zak as he leaves — a silent thank you for his hospitality. oscar waves shyly, turning on his heel to hurry after his boss. lando follows suit, just about pulling his eyes from you, but only makes it a few steps before he's turning back.

"it was, uh, nice to meet you," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "hopefully i'll see you around."

biting at your cheek, holding back a small laugh, you nod. "hopefully."

lando finds himself grinning, walking a few yards backwards just to spare another minute looking at you. oscar calls for him and forces the teammate to hurry, shoes scuffing against polished tile as he catches up.

"stare much?" oscar asks him once they're side by side, a knowing smirk twisting upward.

"shut up," lando mumbles, but his own smile flickers. "she's pretty."

after that day, lando and you became close friends. he would sneak upstairs from briefings to bring you a coffee ("extra caramel, of course") and hide out in your office. he would vent to you about changes zak was, or wasn't, making with the car. you would confide in his about particularly stressful cases you would get handed. on days you weren't in the office, lando would text you pictures of him and oscar bored in meetings.

but the worst was race weekends. very rarely did you go along with the rest of the team, as there was little need for you there. if something went wrong, you could fix it from your desk in england. lando sent you updates from each city, everything from the track to sightseeings. you would often reply with a picture of your rainy window in central london and a sad face. and each sunday, you would sit up and watch the race with your fingers crossed. no matter the time, you were there. and when a race went particularly bad, you would wait up for the phone call from lando, needing a shoulder to lean on.

the staff at mclaren began saying you two were joined at the hip, partners in crime, so often not seen without the other. the best of friends.

"hey," lando chirped, knuckles rapping on your office door one friday morning. he had two coffees in his hand, as usual, perching both them and himself on top of your desk. "you going to the office party tonight?"

"open bar, free cocktails, seeing mark from marketing drunk?" you hummed thoughtfully, sipping at the hot drink. "you bet i am."

lando laughs, head thrown back slightly. the knowledge that you'll be there relaxes him, actually letting him look forward to the mandatory night out. "okay, good. i'll see you then."

"see you tonight," you call after him, watching until he disappears around the nearest corner. luckily, zak lets everyone go an hour early in account for the party starting at eight. you hurry home, sorting through every outfit option and getting ready as quickly as you can. the club was on the other side of london, at least forty minutes on the train, hence your rushing out the door with only one heel buckled.

inside of the club, completely booked out by zak for the company's pleasure, you realised just how many people worked in the world that was mclaren. legal was such a small part of it, a tiny cog in the whole machine. it was quite overwhelming, if it wasn't for the fact that you knew so many of the faces.

"y/n, hey!" the familiar sydney accent pulls your eyes to the nearby bar. oscar waves you over, smiling as you weave your way into a hug. "this is lily, my girlfriend."

you recognised the girl from pictures, but she was even prettier in real life. you exchange bright hello's, hugging in greeting while oscar orders you both some drinks.

"it's so nice to finally meet you!" lily beams, tucking her hair behind her ears. "i've heard so much."

curiosity peaks you, head tilted ever so slightly. "you have?"

"yeah, of course. lando is always—"

her words are cut short by a wide-eyed oscar, shoving in between you both to give you your drinks. "ha, hey! let's go sit, hm?"

your brows furrow, only more confused when lily shoots you an apologetic look. she takes your hand to lead you through the crowd to a booth at the other wall. amongst a few individuals you vaguely recognise, lando sits sipping a beer. he looks up when he hears oscar greet them, but his eyes instantly shoot to you.

"jesus," he mutters, quiet enough that only max next to him hears. you look absolutely stunning, your figure newly shown off by the little dress you have on. it falls to about mid-thigh, the rest of your legs accentuated by the heels you had on. your hair and makeup has been done a bit more than it would for work, and the sight has lando's stomach churning.

you squeeze in next to lily, across the table from lando. he can't tear his eyes away from you, even when max tries to strike up conversation. all you're doing is talking to lily, leaning over into each other to hear properly, face lighting up every so often with a laugh.

"so, that's who's had you so distracted recently?" max eventually catches lando's attention, watching his best friend's eyes widen. "she's pretty."

pretty? lando though. she was gorgeous.

"we're just friends," lando explains, shaking his head.

"bro, you've been staring at her like she's the only person in the room for the last twenty minutes," max laughs airily, nudging him. lando scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny the fact. after another moment, you catch his gaze and smile softly. lando blushes, lifting his hand to wave slightly.

"okay, let's dance! this is my favourite song," max suddenly exclaims, standing up with a slap to the tabletop. a few follow suit, and you turn to lily with raised brows.

"oh, no," she shakes her head with a giggle. "i need at least two more of these drinks before you get me up there."

"well, drink up. i'll save you a dance."

smiling sweetly, you slip off of the seat to give her attention back to oscar. lando stands at the same time, smiling playfully when he looks at you. a hand of his stretches out and you can't even fathom denying it, slipping palm to palm and letting him drag you to the middle of the dance floor.

the song is drake or the weekend, something you don't really know, but the beat is so loud that you can feel it in the floor beneath you. falling into a rhythm, you giggle as lando begins moving with you. he sings along, but you don't recognise the lyrics, only the movement of his lips as his eyes shut. your chest thumps in time with the music, the heat of the people around you creeping onto your bare skin. the music mixes, changing into a melody you instantly know.

"i love this song!" you squeal, grasping lando's arms to shake them in excitement. he chuckles, watching on in admiration as you begin dancing again, reciting every single word to abba's lay all your love on me. your hands sneak down from his arms to his hands, forcing him to move along with you. he spins you around again and again just to watch your hair and dress float around you like magic, the lights of the club basking you in a heavenly hue.

somewhere in the midst of the second verse and chorus, lando feels his judgement cloud. he'd like to blame it on the beer, but he had only drank one, and he knew it was that usual intoxicating presence you carried around everywhere. your lips mould around each lyric, having listened to the song so many times (and your endless summer rewatches of mamma mia, as you once told him) that it was engraved on your memory. you looked perfect, the same as every day he snuck glances at you in the office or scrolled through your instagram late at night when he couldn't sleep for thinking about you.

you were it, for him. everything he loved and dreamed of, the only thing that had kept his feet on the ground this past season. and here you were, chest pressed to his thanks to the swarm of drunken guests, so close that he could smell your perfume and the shampoo from your hair. you had used a darker lipstick tonight, he noticed, unlike the usual clear balm you wore at work. it made you lips look even more soft than they normally do - he knew, because he spent a hefty chunk of his day staring at them.

abba fades out, along with the loud and out of tune singing filling the club, and all lando can think about is kissing you. it wouldn't be fair, for such pretty lips to go unkissed. and it wouldn't be fair on him, who has spent hours on end imagining how kissing you might feel, to let such an opportunity slip away from him.

so, he's tightening the hands that are already on your waist to pull you even closer, until there's not an inch of space left between you. his lips around rough, unmoving as they press against yours, eyes screwed shut and cursing the long seconds as he waits for your mouth to respond. eventually, he peeks through hesitant eyes to meet your surprise. your lips, colour smudged a little now from the contact, are parted and your eyes are wide. he can't discern what you're thinking, but he would bet it wasn't pure elation.

blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer.

his mouth opens just as all of his senses wire back in again, the end notes of the song just ringing out when he begins making his excuse. but your surprise and panic fills you so much that you can't breathe here, not with so many people around and lando's body heat still so close. stumbling, you push past him and everyone else that you meet to escape the busyness. the neon exit sign beckons you to the fire door, gasping when it opens and the fresh night air hits you.

thankfully, there isn't a soul to watch you and your flushed cheeks struggling for breath, and you wait until you hear the door shut behind you to fully relax again, frankly not caring if you lock yourself out. but the click of the lock doesn't come, only a familiar sound that crumbles you again.

"y/n—"

lando stands helpless in the doorway, eyes pleading for forgiveness when you turn to him. your head shakes, searching for something to say.

"i... you, what—” you struggle to grasp the right words, eyes squeezing shut. "i thought we were just friends?"

"we were! we are," lando corrects you quickly, striding towards you. "but that doesn't change the fact that i—"

"lan, please don't."

"— love you, y/n. i've been in love with you since your first day at work. how couldn't i be?"

his voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before, urging guilt into your throat until you have to swallow it back down. you make yourself look down at the ground, your heels and his sneakers facing each other, because you know you'll fall apart once you see those damned brown eyes.

"lando..." you murmur through a sigh.

"don't you feel it too?" he asks, desperately grabbing at your clammy hands. "us, me and you. it's right there."

you cave then, heart taking over from your mind, chin raised to look at him. lips turn into a frown, searching his lovelorn eyes for the moment he'll laugh and tell you its all a big joke. because he's lando, and you're just you.

"tell me that you don't, that there's nothing here," lando mumbles lower, gripping your fingers for dear life. "tell me this isn't real and i'll walk away. but — but i can't leave you if there's a chance."

your lips part with a breath, lips dry, and your sense screams at you to tell him no. that it'll never work, it's impossible. but something tugs in your chest and you realise something you had never wanted to admit to yourself: you loved lando norris.

"it'll be too complicated." you settle for excuses instead, chewing the inside of your cheek, wincing when you nick the flesh. "we have to work together, so if something happens then it'll mess everything up."

lando steadies your shaking head with his hands, one on each cheek, staring deep into your eyes. "what are you so scared of?"

you swallow, shoulders raising with each shallow breath. "i don't want to lose you. you're my best friend, the only person i can talk to. i don't want to mess that up."

your confession melts his heart, affection bringing his thumbs to graze across your cheeks. "i won't let that happen," lando promises, tongue sincere as can be.

you wait a moment, scouring his features before the trust solidifies. gently, tentatively, you search for the taste you barely got inside of the club, lips ghosting together. strawberry and beer mix on your tongues, hands wandering over body heat and mouths hungrily moving together like two teenagers in a back alley. only when breathless does lando fall from your lips, hands still steady on the round hips of your dress, keeping you close.

"i'll always be your best friend," he whispers like an oath, a boyish smile tugging at the corner of his swollen and lipstick-covered mouth. "but can we be best friends who do that, like, a lot?"

writer's note: wrote this in one sitting and may have gotten carried away but pls enjoy <3

[servingrobin]

Hii can I request a fic on 'putting them on a sex ban' with luffy, ace, sanji, and nami:3 ty ily

Ly2 nonnie 🥹 this became very smutty for a sex ban lol but oh well

Luffy Ace Sanji Nami

Warnings: fem reader, oral (f and m receiving), mentions of anal, masturbation, underwear use, injury, slight voyeurism

✨ requests open ✨

Luffy

- Had royally pissed you off by once again wandering off on his own and getting into some monumental fight

- You knew better than to argue about it now, it was part of Luffy’s personality, but you just wished he would bring the crew with him - you were family and could help each other

- So you hit him where it hurt: no sex until he got it through his thick head that he didn’t need to do it alone

- Luffy didn’t take you seriously at first, thinking you’d cave after a few days

- But two weeks later with no sex and Luffy was climbing the walls

- “I’m sorryyyyyy Y/N pleaseeeee,” he whinged, had a tantrum, begged and pleaded

- “What are you sorry for?”

- Luffy couldn’t tell you

- And so it continued

- Two months you lasted, fights and islands making it easier to stay occupied

- Until one night Nami and Franky got you both obscenely drunk, and pushed you into Luffy’s room

- “We can’t listen to it anymore Y/N - take one for the team!”

- Luffy bounced you on his dick for hours, came several times and still had more to give. You were dripping his seed from every orifice by the time Luffy was satisfied, you pussy had been licked, bitten, fingered and fucked into oblivion - along with every other hole you allowed Luffy near.

- “I’ll try and be more careful next time sweetie.” Luffy mumbled in your ear, you both cuddled up tight afterwards.

Ace

- followed you around like a puppy, no clue what he’d actually done

- It was something silly to start with and you couldn’t actually remember what it was - but you were stubborn and after a few days had to hold true

- Ace took to jacking off any chance he could near you, mewling and begging you to help him out, knowing how much it would drive you crazy

- You were stubborn but breaking with each moan, and had to resort to escaping any time your lover was near

- Finally Ace had enough, and organised a special date for you to apologise for his wrongdoings (he still wasn’t sure what they were but figured a blanket declaration should do the trick)

- Took you to a secluded beach at sunset, a picnic set up for you both, roses and lilies and all your favourite sweet treats laid out on a cotton blanket

- You were swept away by the gesture and any last resilience crumbled away. You pulled him in by the hat for a searing kiss, long and passionate and full of love

- Ace laid you down across the blanket as the night sky rose, and made sweet love to you under the stars

- Neither of you lasted after so long apart (read: six days you lasted), and both tumbled into firework orgasms as you gasped together, Ace pressing down into you so close

Sanji

- this man flirts too much

- And you don’t mind most of the time

- But when he gives one of your favourite baked treats to Nami first, you see red

- Nami for her part is a downright girls girl and is fuming for you, taking the baked good and feeding it to the garbage disposal that was Luffy, scowling at the blonde man the whole while

- Sanji knew immediately he’d fucked up- he’d heard Nami craving something sweet and without thinking had started making your favourites, the recipes etched in his brain in love for you

- You refused to go near him for a few hours, and when you’d finally calmed down, you still wouldn’t let him touch you

- “Serves you right! See how long you last you crummy cook!” The insult (one of Zoro’s favourites) flung out your mouth with bitterness, and Sanji winced

- When he came to bed that night you were already sleepy, mumbled a quick ‘love you’ and turned over to sleep - your actions were not angry but resolute

- Sanji lasted about three days before getting really desperate

- And there you found him on your bed, rutting into his fist, your underwear wrapped around his cock

- “Y/N….mon Cherie….. fuck….” He moaned out, eyes squeezed tight in pleasure

- You cleared your throat loudly and could only laugh at the stricken look on his face as he opened his eyes

- You rolled your own at him and joined him on the bed, pulling his fist away to replace with yours

- You unraveled him with short tight motions, Sanji bucking his hips up into your hand

- “Now be a good boy and make yourself useful…” you hun at him and reposition, climbing over him to hover your clothed cunt over Sanji’s mouth

- He ate you like it was the best damn meal of his life that night, and never made your favourites for someone else without offering to you first again

Nami

- less of a ban from you and more from Chopper

- Nami managed to get herself properly messed up in your last fight and was on bed rest for the week - no extra activities allowed

- She was too out of it the first few days to care but when Chopper extended her stay to another week, Nami was ready to go stir crazy

- She begged for your touch, your tongue, to watch you, anything to alleviate the boredom and growing ache between her legs

- You held strong for the first few days, wanting her to get better over anything else

- But you couldn’t resist her pleading for long, you’d do anything for Nami and she knew she had you wrapped around her finger

- Which is how you ended up nestled beneath her covers, legs over your shoulders and Nami’s clit slurped into your mouth

- You alternated gentle kitten licks to her folds and deep languid strokes inside her

- She held your hair in clenched fingers and urged you to go faster, edging closer and closer to her release

- You snaked a hand down to your own sex, thrumming your clit at just the right angle to crawl yourself closer to the edge of climax

- You timed your strokes to your motions and with a shout you both came, Nami’s clenched release spurring yours forward

- You still have the hoof mark where Chopper smacked you around the head afterwards, thoroughly chastised.

[sturniqlo]

In Between- M.S

summary: with their usual bickering, Y/n and Chris escalate into a heated argument and Matt has to break up a fight between his girlfriend and his brother

cw: angst, cursing, crying, fluff at the end

an: thank you to @ik33pitundercover for this wonderful idea (if you have any idea pls comment them here or in my 'send requests' in my bio and i might make them happen!)

masterlist

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Before Matt and Y/n got together, it was always Chris and Y/n the bestest of friends. Though they never had any feelings for each other, they were always together. Everyone always told them they had a sibling like relationship. And they both agreed. They constantly bickered, pushed each other around playfully, just everything siblings would do. Eventually, the two other brothers, Nick and Matt, also became close with Y/n.

A couple of month of hanging out one on one, Y/n and Matt ended up dating. And Chris couldn't be happier. His brother and best friend were both together what more could he ask for?

Earlier today, Chris had texted Y/n if she was down to hangout. She politely declined, telling Chris she was going to hangout with Matt for most of the day. He understood and responded to her that he'll probably hangout with his other friends. He was a bit bummed to say the least. Chris can't remember the last time him and Y/n hung out one on one. Not that he was jealous of her and Matt, never. He just wanted to spend some time with his best friend.

After messaging Y/n, he didn't text any of his other friends, too upset to even hang out with anyone else. As the day went on, Nick had came into Chris' room to ask if he wanted to go hangout with him and Madi, he declined. When the afternoon came by, he ordered takeout and ate his taco bell. After eating he hopped on fortnite and played a couple of rounds before deciding to take a nap.

Y/n spent the whole morning and afternoon with Matt. Although she did feel a bit bad for declining Chris, Matt reassured her and told her Chris would be fine. Around ten in the morning, she picked Matt up in her car, and drove them to their usual breakfast spot. They shared each others plate and were both bloated with good food at the end of it. During their breakfast time, Matt had mentioned how Chris had seemed a bit down as of lately. "Do you think it's because you haven't hung out with him?" He said while taking a bite of his pancake. "I've hung out with him. We were all together last weekend." She replied.

"Yeah, I get that but, I mean one on one." Matt didn't mind at all when his brother and girlfriend hung out one on one. He liked that she had a good relationship with Chris and Nick. "Oh, yeah, I see it now. Maybe I can plan something with him next week? If he want to, that is." That conversation was a couple of hours ago. The time was now nearing five in the afternoon and Nick had called Matt that he was staying over at Madi's. "Do you think Chris is home?" Matt asked as they picked out the ingredients for tonight's activity. "Not sure, he texted me earlier that he might hang out with some of his friends."

Y/n and Matt had spent the afternoon at her place watching movies and playing games. Y/n ended up making them lunch, and here they are now in the grocery store. They had both agreed the would make something at Matt's house so Y/n can drive back to her place when she was ready to go. Matt was a bit bummed that she couldn't stay the night but understood that she had an exam early in the morning. "Wait, let me get Chris a pack of Pepsi. He told me he was running low yesterday." Y/n said, pushing the cart towards the soda isle.

"He seriously needs to cut down on the Pepsi. But we just keep feeding into it." Matt wrapped his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. "I agree."

Chris woke up to the sound of a loud bang followed by laughter coming from upstairs in the kitchen. He checked his phone and saw it was almost six in the afternoon. He had slept for about an hour and a half. Confused about the loud bang, he got up to check. Coming up the stairs half awake, he saw Y/n on the floor cleaning up what looked to be some sort of dessert batter. "The fuck happened in here?" Chris said, startling Y/n. "Oh shit! Chris what the hell, you scared me." Y/n stood up from her spot on the floor. "My bad." Chris scoffed, going to the fridge.

"I thought you were going out today?" She threw the many stained paper towels in the trash. "I was going to but, you declined." He threw some shade at her. "I told you I was sorry, Matt had this planned for a couple of days now." She said, walking away to go retrieve their mop. "Where's Matt anyways?" He asks, as Y/n fills up the mop bucket. "He spilled his cake batter on the floor and it got all over him so he went to shower."

"Oh, well clean this mess up then. It not gonna clean itself up." He points to the remaining with his water bottle. "Woah, who put a stick up your ass?" Y/n was taken back a bit. Most of the time she could tell when Chris was joking when saying rude comments because he always smiled and tries not to laugh whenever he says them, so does she, but, he seemed serious about this one. "Stop playing around. Are you going to clean it or not?" Chris slightly raises his voice. Y/n's eyebrows furrow.

"Okay, You've never talked to me like that and I'm not going to let you talk to me like that." She stops filling the bucket up and stares at Chris with a confused glare. What has gotten into him? "Whatever." He scoffs, as he starts walking towards his set of stairs. "Hey, no! You come back here and tell me what this is all about." She tells him, she slowly starts getting mad. "I'm not a fucking child for you to be talking to me like that." He fights back. "Well you're acting like one right now." She crosses her arms. "Just leave me alone and enjoy your time with my brother. Seems like he's the only one you've known for years."

"Is this about us not hanging out as much anymore?" She says as Chris turns back around to face her. "What do you think? You get with my brother and now you forget about me? Was being my friend just an act to get to Matt?" Chris yells. "Are you hearing yourself right now?" Y/n yells back, and she sees Matt walk in with wet hair. "What's going on." Chris turns his head to see who was talking. "Oh look, your boyfriend is back, looks like you won't be needing me this evening." He smiles sarcastically.

"You're being a fucking dick right now." She walks closer to him. "Woah, okay. Let's- why don't you two settle down. And talk without yelling." Matt intervenes and steps in the middle of the arguing pair. "Matt, move. Chris is being unreasonable and isn't thinking before he speaks." Y/n tries to move Matt out of the way. "Babe, hey, calm down. Tell me what happened."

"He came up the stairs and just started being rude to me. He's mad about me and him not hanging out as much. When he could've just told me in a nicely manner." Y/n leans her head at the last part to where Chris can see her. Chris only rolls his eyes. "Yeah, you always tell me you're busy. Seems like you have time for everyone else besides me. I hope you're happy Matt, considering the fact that you ruined our friendship." Matt turns around. "Chris, I didn't ruin no friendship and your friendship with Y/n isn't ruined."

"Matt do you know what he said to me?" Matt shakes his head. "Oh, please enlighten him, Y/n." Chris says mockingly, she only rolls her eyes at him. "If you keep rolling em' they're going to get stuck." Chris adds. "Chris, stop it." Matt turns his head towards him "Go on." Matt tells her. "He told me that I only became friends with him to get with you. Can you believe that? He doesn't know the shit he's saying!"

"Chris? Do you really think that low of her?" Matt is shocked by all of this. He's never seen Chris and Y/n argue this bad. And it's making him upset that he's in the middle of this. "I'm starting to." Chris' comment ticks Y/n off. "That's it, I'm out of here." Y/n grabs her purse and phone and pushes through them. "Y/n come back." Matt gently grabs her arm. "I can't be in the same room as him right now. Not when he's acting all bitchy."

"I'm not acting bitchy, so get your facts straight." Chris adds on to her anger. "Chris that's enough." Matt raises his voice at his brother. "Here, come to my room to cool down and I'll talk to Chris, okay?" Matt softly talks to Y/n as he sees that she near bursting into tears. He knows she hates arguing with anybody. "Okay, okay." She whispers walking off to Matt's room, not making eye contact with her best friend.

Once Matt hears his room door close he starts going off on Chris. "What was that all about." He points to his room where Y/n is. "An argument, dumbass." Chris makes a smart mouth comment. "You know you could've talked to her like a normal person right? And to accuse her of using you so she could get to me was a low blow." Chris now realizes how bad it sounded. When Y/n entered Matt's room, she sat on his bed and let her tears out. She's never fought with Chris this bad. Yeah, they might've had a little argument or two over something small, but it never got to this point where someone had to intervene.

"Sorry, I got carried away. It's just, I miss hanging out with her. I feel like she's slowly forgetting about me ever since you two started dating." Chris says, wiping his eyes to prevent his tears to come down. "She's not forgetting about you, trust me. We always talk about whenever we hangout. And, she's also noticed how you two haven't been hanging out as much. Also, Im sorry for hogging her for months now." Matt tells Chris, earning a light chuckle from him at the last comment.

"Why don't you go in there and talk to her while I clean this up, okay?" Chris nods and starts walking towards Matt's room where Y/n currently is. He lightly knocks before opening the door. "Hey." Chris says, walking towards the bed to sit next to her. "Hi." She says, lifting her head off her knees. "I'm sorry about everything I said out there. I know you didn't use me to get to Matt. That was stupid of me to say." He shakes his head thinking back on it. "I just felt like you were forgetting about me and I was upset and let out my anger on you instead of talking to you like a normal person would." Y/n finally looks at him. "I'm sorry you felt that way. But, I also wish I would've realized it sooner, it would've prevented this whole shit show."

"Do you forgive me?" He asks lowly. "Of course I do, you're my best friend." After a couple of minutes basking in the comfortable silence, Matt finally walks in. "Nobody has been killed, I'm guess you two made up?" He takes a seat next to Chris. "Yup, we're good now." Matt smiles at that. "That's great, how about tomorrow you two spend the whole day together after Y/n is done with her exam?" Both Y/n and Chris liked the idea of that. "That sounds nice. What do you think, Chris?" Y/n asks Chris. "I'm up for it."

"Come on, let's go bake the boxed cake since I spilt the other one." He stands up and sits in the middle of them wrapping his arms around both of them. "That's the first ever biggest fight, definitely going into the book."

"Shut up!" Chris and Y/n say in unison and laugh.

[confused-pyramid]

Coming Up For Air | s1

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

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

word count: 10.4k

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

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

series masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was a no-brainer.

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Wheels up in 30."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then we're back to law enforcement."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hold your fire!"

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

"If you find baldness and wrinkles attractive."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You want kids, don't you?

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

Spencer doesn't look up from his crossword.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Most of them have criminal records."

Elle glances up. "That much I guessed."

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

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

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

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

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

"What's so interesting about that?"

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, pressing your eyes closed for a beat.

He missed his pick-up, Mrs. Adler.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the hell is wrong with you people?"

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

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

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

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

"You don't have him?"

You can hear your heartbeat in your skull.

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

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

"About 12 hours."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

And some people grow up to catch them."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're a great father, Aaron."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Burnt."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I told her the truth."

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

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

"I'm sure Elle loved hearing that."

He shrugs. "She was surprisingly receptive."

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

"Do what?"

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

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

"We were gonna start trying for a baby."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I just know."

***

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

"Sean?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Maybe Hotch is adopted."

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

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

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

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

Her eyes widen and she lifts her hands in surrender.

"Ooh, here he comes."

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

"Sean, listen to me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shook your hand furtively. "Aaron."

"Maybe I'll see you around."

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's when the phone rings.

***

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

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

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

"Yet."

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

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

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

"No-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So you're my bodyguard, huh?"

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

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

"Prettier, too."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You start running.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4.6K]

THE TIMELINE

"Oh, won't you stay, just a little bit longer. Please let me hear, you say that you will, Say you will."

- Stay By Maurice Williams and The Zodiacs

IV. MOUNTAIN LAKE, VIRGINA: 1963

The man in front of you was not part of your vacation plans. He was half naked, sweaty, annoyed and scowling. The man in front of you was a stranger. 

Except he wasn’t. 

Was he?

You knew his name by now, something you’d only learnt on Monday, or perhaps the day before. Steve, Steve Herringbone or Barrington or something. He didn’t like it when you called him Steven and he certainly didn’t like it when you argued back. 

But this was supposed to be a getaway, a small summer break where you could maybe sneak a smoke by the lake when everyone had returned to their cabins and the geriatric morning yoga was done. Except your dad knew the owner of the summer retreat, a huge house settled in the Virginia countryside, the forest greener than it was back home. Bauman’s Mountain House was host to many golf courses, a fencing team, seventeen rowboats, an archery club, the best water aerobics in the state and an award winning dance show. 

The very latter included the man in front of you. 

Tall, broad shouldered and tanned from the summer, Steve Harrington was handsome and painstakingly so. Brown hair that he always tried to tame by pushing his hand through it, brown eyes and too many freckles to count. He wore a gold chain around his throat, black slacks and a leather jacket on his days off, driving around the resort in a BMW that made too much noise, but he didn’t seem to care. 

He cared even less about his bad reputation and loud ways when his partner broke her foot weeks before the final show, a tiny girl called Nancy that you were unreasonably jealous of at first sight. You watched them both on your first night, sat between your mother and father as they took to the stage, dancing flawlessly, fluidly, like they were one whole person. You watched the way she touched him, an easy familiarity that had your stomach feeling unsettled and something inside of you burned when her hand brushed the man’s neck, holding onto him as he dipped her low, her fingers trapping two little moles and hiding them from sight. 

You’d blamed the cheap cocktails and called it a night. 

But then your father found him arguing with Mr Bauman about the show and suddenly you were volunteered against your own volition, your parents talking loudly and proudly about talent shows and dance lessons when you were much younger, boldly exaggerating about how must’ve been a dancer in another life as you shook your head and tried to escape back to the gazebo by the shoreline.

Now you were left spending your evenings with Steve Harrington and his tight trousers in a cabin that was much smaller than your own. There was a leak in the corner, a consistent drip from a missing nail in the roof and rainwater splashed against the wooden floor as if it were counting down the seconds. 

As if it were counting down to— something. 

It had rained every night since you had started seeing Steve, the stifling afternoons giving way to humid evenings that always started to smell like rain by six o’clock, sweet tea and lemonade taken over by the scent of a new downpour. There had been threats of storms, chattering of it during breakfast in the main dining hall, grumbles of it from groundskeepers during bowling on the green. 

But nothing wild, not yet. 

Steve had scowled the entire time he was with you, minutes and hours spent with a frown on his face as he did his best to avoid touching you, mumbling something about getting the timings right, about learning the steps and the footwork before putting it all together. It was tedious now, repetitive and too warm in his small room and even with the bed pushed to the wall, there was barely space to avoid brushing up against him when you moved. 

You were flushed, skin shining with a thin layer of sweat and the same sheen made Steve’s lips look glossy, his hair sticking to his forehead in curls and flicks. You rolled your eyes when he hit rewind on the tape deck, a silent order for you to take it from the top. But you didn’t move as he made quick work on his buttons, undoing them one by one until his short sleeved shirt hung open, showing off far too much skin. Lean muscle and a smattering of hair across his pecs, more skating down the line of his navel and you sucked in a breath, pretending you hadn’t stood on your own foot. 

“It’s too fuckin’ warm,” he complained, circling you as he spoke, watching you for more errors, inspecting your footwork, your posture, the way your held your head up and squared off your shoulders. 

“No shit,” you couldn’t help but bite back. “How’d you think I feel?”

You wore denim shorts to his black slacks, but your cotton T-shirt was sticking to your torso now, the baby pink material too heavy and restricting for the heat inside the cabin. You pressed your lips together and moved, eyes on the wall ahead of you, your right foot moving in front of your left before you twisted your hips half a turn and—

“Take it off, then.”

You blinked, your framework going slack as you dropped both your arms and your jaw. You were hardly prudish, but something about this man had set you on edge since you’d first seen him. An electrical buzz every time you looked at him, fizzing through your bones, an invisible string tied to your insides pulling and pulling and pulling you closer. You’d ignored it until these dance practices, always turning in the other direction, putting the entire resort between you both. 

But now… now?

He was standing all of three feet away, cheeks flushed from the heat and his chest on show, his hands behind his head and his fingers buried in his hair in frustration as he stared at you. Like he was challenging you. The muscles in his arms were flexed, taut cords and lines that showed off how hard he work at his job and you couldn’t help but stare. 

“What?” You demanded it, a bite of an answer. 

“Your shirt,” Steve nodded to the pink material, brows raised like it were obvious. He almost rolled his eyes. “Take it off.”

Above you, the rain outside fell a little harder, a consistent din against the thin roof. 

You didn’t say anything. You just hoped you didn’t lose your cool as you reached for the hem of your t-shirt, untucking it from your shorts. The cotton stuck to you uncomfortably, dragging against your skin as you raised it up and over your head, the brief second where your eyesight was blinded a terrifying prospect. 

Was he looking? At you? Was he watching? Did he care?

By the time you’d balled up the offending fabric and tossed it in the corner, Steve had turned his back to you, pressing some buttons on the tape deck until the song - some kind of mambo - played for the beginning again. You couldn’t see his face but you wondered if he’d caught sight of your bra, as plain as it may have been. White cotton, thin with scalloped edges and a tiny pink bow between the cups. Hardly sexy, nothing near scandalous, but there was certainly a lot more skin showing now. 

Slick, damp skin that you wondered if he’d touch. It was like he wasn’t allowed to, the way he skirted around you all of the time, his hands shoved into his pockets when he wasn’t demonstrating the next step, a fist pressed to his chin as he watched you repeat his instructions, a wide palm always hovering just out of reach of your lower back when he scolded you for slouching, like he’d went to put his hands on you - only to pull catch himself at the last second. 

“You gotta loosen your hips,” Steve’s voice interrupted your thoughts as he turned back around. His eyes were on the floor before he finally dragged them up your legs and over your bare stomach. He sucked in a breath. “You’re too rigid.”

“You told me to hold my shoulders,” you retorted, knowing fine well that he’d bitched about your ‘noodle arms’ for days. 

“Yeah, your upper body needs to be squared off. Hold yourself tight from here up,” Steve gestured to your waist with the side of his hand. He didn’t touch you, but you could feel the heat radiate from him. “But from here?” He tapped at the button on your shorts. 

You froze. 

“From here down, you need to put a bit of swing in the hips, alright?” He spun, putting himself behind you but you could see him in the mirror that leant against the cabin wall, an old looking thing that was too ornate to be here. Once gold, it had carvings of cherubs on the frame, tiny wreaths and rosettes intertwined with ancient style busts. “It’s a mambo, sweetheart, put a little heat into it.”

The tape begun again and Steve leant against a dresser, arms folded across his bare chest, his open shirt plastered to his skin. He watched you, waiting. The intro played and you counted the beats, nodding your head to each note and before you could hit the mark. Thunder rumbled somewhere outside and you were suddenly reminded of a man that looked like Steve, standing and watching you like that in a room much smaller than this, lit by firelight, dressed like a fighter. 

“You missed the count,” Steve sighed, exasperated. 

His hair had been longer, his face bruised and bleeding, but it looked just like him. A familiar scene, like you’d maybe seen it in a movie, but it felt more like a dream you didn’t recall having. You looked down at your feet, chest heaving, lips parted in confusion and you were only more dazed when you saw your bare legs and not the long skirts you expected. Your body didn’t feel like yours, not really. 

Like it was borrowed, or broken. 

You turned, facing Steve as if you expected him to be dressed differently, in leathers and studs and pleats, but he was still the same, just looking at you as if you’d suddenly fallen ill. Maybe you had. 

“Drink some water,” he ordered, and yes, that sounded like a really good idea. “Then we’ll go again.”

You chugged the bottle, the water tepid and hard to swallow but you gulped it down greedily, praying against heat stroke or whatever else it could be that could be plaguing you with such hallucinations. You swiped at your lips and closed your eyes before you turned back to the boy and when you did, he looked the same as he always did. 

Annoyed, tired, pretty. 

“C’mere,” Steve said briskly, crooking a finger at you. You stepped towards him, unsure of what he was asking you, lingering awkwardly with a few feet of space between you. Steve huffed and rolled his eyes. “Jesus, I mean— here.”

He touched you then, his hand reaching out to grasp your own as he pulled you forward, closer than you’d ever been. There was barely space for a prayer between you both. 

You thought that his hand in yours would’ve made you feel something, a spark, a fizz, that buzz that you felt in your bones around him. But something else settled over you instead, a strange familiarity, a longing for a home you didn’t know or didn’t remember, like Steve touching you was hardly anything new. His touch made you think of the sea, of vast gardens, of islands and storms and great wars, ruby wine and promises that seemed impossible to keep. 

From the unsettled look in Steve’s eye as he stared down at you, you thought that maybe he felt the same thing. 

But then he was fussing, moving his feet into the right position and mumbling about your stance. His hand took you with him as he moved, less than an inch separating your bare stomach from his and you let him direct you as he pleased, waiting for the song to reply from the top. The drums began, a cacophony of instruments you’d never be able to name joining in. 

And then Steve was counting, his eyes suddenly fixed on yours as he nodded to the beat. “And five, six, seven—”

Steve’s other hand was on your waist. 

His palm felt huge, big enough to envelop your side and his thumb was pressed into the soft of your belly, just below your ribcage. His fingers were splayed out over your bare back, his skin warm against your own and you’d never felt so completely consumed by just one touch. You were reminded of white sheets and hazy mornings, the taste of fresh bread and an open window that looked out to blue skies and you could hear a fountain spraying water. 

But you were moving before you could consider it, what it meant, what it was, if it was possible to have someone else’s memories trapped in your head. Steve moved and you followed, your feet chasing his step by step as he walked you back and forth, his hips turning into yours on each beat, his shoulders set and his chin held high, ever the professional. 

“Don’t look at your feet,” he murmured, barely heard over the music. “Chin up. Look at me.”

You didn’t know how to tell him it hurt to do so, how looking into his eyes this close felt like giving in, it felt like being stitched back together without any medication. You had never been aware of any wounds in your body, but this man you barely knew seemed to fill the space very well. 

So you did, holding your breath until your chest burned, your eyes meeting Steve’s as you clasped his hand in your own and gripped his shoulder, letting him lead you around the cabin floor. The storm raged on, louder than before, more threatening now, like it was arguing, fighting, scolding. 

The rain poured harder and what little evening light there had been was now dampened, the setting sun hidden behind navy and violet coloured clouds - but the heat was just as oppressive. Steve turned you, a twist of his body that led into yours as you spun on your toes, and when he caught you— when he caught you, his hand moved lower, slipping down your overheated skin until his fingers grazed the denim waistband of your shorts. 

Maybe he saw you falter, maybe he saw your lips part, but Steve sucked in a breath and kept moving, his chest brushing your own as you stepped into his space as he danced into yours, torso meeting, separating, meeting, separating, meeting—

“Keep count,” he reminded you. “Keep counting the beats.” 

You nodded, Steve’s face startlingly closer than before, as if he’d forgotten his boundaries, the box he created with strong arms, the one that kept him professional as a dancer, standing tall and strong. Now his elbows were bent, his hand falling from yours so both of his palms could bracket your hips and it was too much, it was everything you’d ever wanted, it was something you felt like you’d once had. 

You just couldn’t remember who had taken it away from you. 

Lightning lit the cabin, the storm over the resort, the sky black. 

“Remember your hips,” he whispered, and god, god, his forehead was almost touching yours, his nose drawing a line against your own as his eyelids dropped and his lashes fanned his pink cheeks. His hands guided your waist, moving you from side to side, following the rhythm. “Listen to the beat.”  

You were sure he meant the music, but it was impossible to ignore the thud of his heart against your own chest. You could feel yours even more so, a constant drumming that seemed to seep into your bones, making them crack at the edges, something blooming between them, something new and old and familiar and exciting. 

Like driving into your street after a long vacation, like falling into your own bed after too many weeks away, smelling the laundry detergent that clung to everyone else that you loved. It felt hopeful, like the beginning of the morning when the only thing that had entered your thoughts was the way the sun looked in the sky, how pink it was, how the clouds seemed softer than the day before. 

Steve pushed at your hips, holding them as you swayed from side to side, your hands leaving the safety of his shoulders to slip up, holding the sides of his neck, the heat of his skin scalding your palms and he nodded, pupils blown wide and lips parted as he stared down at you in amazement, like he was seeing you for the very first time. 

Like he was seeing you for the first time after a very long time apart. 

“Good,” he told you softly, like he was still teaching you, like this was still professional. Like he hadn’t put his hand on your lower back and obliterated whatever wall someone else had built between you. Something that had once seemed so strong was knocked down so easily, like not even a god could keep it between you. “Good. Like that, just like that—”

He swore when you moved closer, emboldened by his pretty eyes and the way his gaze tracked down your chest, down your bare stomach. His fingers flexed on your hips, blunt nails tattooing your skin and you hoped the marks would stay there, you hoped they’d be there tomorrow so you could remember that this wasn’t a dream. 

His leg found its way between yours, the song finally slowing to the last few drumbeats and you knew this was the time where you were supposed to spin in Steve’s arms and raise your hand in a grand finish. But Steve tucked your hips close to his instead and let his thigh push into the seam of your denim shorts. 

The song that came on next was slower, lazier, languid. 

The singer had a deeper voice, the drums rolling with a dirtier beat and this wasn’t the mambo, this wasn’t a salsa and it certainly wasn’t anything you’d do in a ballroom never mind on stage in front of others. You’d seen this kind of dancing once before, the night after you first arrived at Bauman’s. You hadn’t meant it, but a walk along the lake after the sun had set had led you to a larger cabin at the back of the resort, where the lights were on and the music was loud. 

Music like this. 

A guy at the door with long curls and an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips had appraised you, one eyebrow lifted at your little white summer dress and tennis shoes. 

“You work here?” He’d asked and you had shaken your head, ready to walk back the way you came. “You a snitch?” He asked after a pause. 

Again, you shook your head ‘no’ and listened as the music inside got louder. The man, who you were sure you’d seen on stage during dinner, playing the guitar for the dining  guests, just shrugged. He’d nodded to a stack of beer crates at the side of the building.

“Grab a case and keep your mouth shut, alright?” He’d opened the door for you, the music louder than ever, the smell of smoke and weed and sweat pouring out. You remember how’d he grinned at you as you took in the sight. “Have fun, princess.”

It’s where you’d seen Steve for the second time, in the middle of a makeshift dance floor with the bow tie and dinner jacket he’d worn during his evening performance long gone. Moving with a girl with his shirt buttons open, his hair a mess, grinding and manhandling her in a way you weren’t sure you would even call dancing. Everyone was doing the same, hips gyrating, skirts too short, men’s chests bare, the smiles meeting in an almost kiss.

It was nothing short of scandalous. 

You’d left, dumping the beer on a table beside a watermelon that almost rolled to the ground in your panic, turning from the crowd and walking out the way you’d came. The curly haired man had snorted at the sight of your wide eyes, calling out a goodbye between laughs. 

And here you were, not even two weeks later, doing the same, if not worse. Why worse? You and Steve were alone. 

Thunder cracked again, louder than before. 

It didn’t feel wrong to be doing this. In fact, for as much trouble as you’d be in if your father had had to catch you, everything about it felt right, like you’d done it before, like this man was yours to touch. But something that felt like danger lingered in the air, a threat far more serious than your dad or Mr Bauman. 

But still, you let your body move with Steve’s, a slow grind of your hips into his and when your hand found the nape of his neck and your fingers twisted into his hair, Steve’s palm cupped your ass, pulling you into him, making you feel how affected he was. 

It should’ve scared you. How this man was touching you, this person you barely knew, alone in a cabin and who you were so sure had hated you only a mere ten minutes before. But Steve looked as gone as you felt, eyes filled with longing, a passion that was visible, his brows knitted together as he stared down at you hungrily, lovingly, adoringly. 

It was almost too much to bear. So you let your head fall back, body slack as you kept dancing, trusting the man to keep you upright and against his own chest and you heard Steve let out a breath at the sight of your exposed neck, the long line of it offered to him like a sacrifice. 

“That’s it,” you heard him murmur. “You feel the beat now?” His words fell on your throat, your bare skin, the top of his nose drawing a line from the base of it to your jaw, his mouth following and you were so sure he wasn’t talking about the music anymore. 

But you nodded, clinging to him when he dipped you backwards, his hands holding you like you were precious, like you were made of marble and gold and suddenly you felt like Steve could’ve been. Like someone had taken a piece of the earth and grown this man from it, just for you. Like he had something ancient in his bones, like whatever he was made of you, you were created from the same thing too. 

When he pulled you back up, effortless and graceful, you were closer than before, impossibly so. Chests meeting in the middle as you both panted into each other's parted lips, noses meeting and foreheads touching. Steve’s hands were curled around your waist, fingers splayed across your naked back as if he couldn’t bear not to touch every part of you. Your hand was on his neck, your fingers brushing over two moles on his tanned skin, the ones you’d watched Nancy touch before you. 

But as you pressed your fingertips to them, your lips buzzed and Steve let out a sigh, like you’d unravelled a knot in his spine, like you’d found a magic button that fixed him. Like you’d touched a place that you’d once touched before. 

“You’ve never touched me before,” you whispered, voice cracking on each syllable because it suddenly was too much. 

Steve looked pained, lashes fluttering as his gaze dropped to your lips and he struggled to find the right words to give you. “I— I shouldn’t be doing it now,” he murmured. “I’m not allowed.”

“Why? Because of your boss? My dad?” 

He grinned, a smirk that faltered too quickly and he shook his head, still not moving from you, his nose nudging yours as he struggled to keep himself from shifting closer still. “You’d think that should’ve been enough to keep me away.” Steve licked his lips and you tracked the movement, so sure that he’d taste like summer and salt and the peach tea from the diner. “Not even the threat of losing my damn job and house can keep me away from you.”

His words had an effect on you, breath hitching, chest aching. “Then who said you’re not allowed?”

The song was still going, a lazy beat that was easy to sway to, Steve’s leg still wedged between your thighs and his hands were wandering, sensual and slow, a whole other kind of dance over your skin. Fingers gripped at your waist before one hand trailed down your hip, over your bare thigh, ghosting over the line of your torn off shorts. He brought your thigh to his hip, hitching your leg high, pressing you both together until you could feel him all, until he could feel all of you.

Laid bare enough for you to feel like he could take the very soul of you from your body.

You found that you didn’t mind the idea of it at all.

“You’ll laugh at me,” Steve murmured but he didn’t sound embarrassed at all, like he didn’t actually believe that you would.

You shook your head, nose brushing against the tip of his and if you moved another inch, just one, you could’ve been kissing him, mouth slotting against his. “I won’t,” you promised.

“I started having dreams when you came,” Steve told you. “Dreams where it always rained and the sky was always dark. And there was a man there, a thing, maybe. But he felt ancient, older than the fucking world and he told me to stay away, to keep away from you.”

You didn’t laugh. No. No, in fact, you didn’t say a damn thing.

Steve laughed, breathless and without any humour, and his hand trailed back up your thigh as your leg dropped slowly to the floor. He spun you both, lazy and languid, but the world around you both still blurred. The cabin faded away, a mix of the low lights and the colours of his quilt on the bed. 

You could barely hear the storm, but god, it was the loudest it had been.

“I want to do ungodly things with you,” Steve confessed and he sounded pained, his throat tight with the same kind of emotion you felt, like you were both sharing the same heart. “I want to do ungodly things to you.”

“Steve--”

“I know it sounds crazy, but there’s somethin’-- somethin’ in the sky or in the goddamn cracks of the earth that’s telling me I shouldn’t.” His bottom lip grazed your top one, an almost kiss, a whisper of one, a mere idea of it. Hardly a touch. “That something real bad will happen if we do.”

You couldn’t explain it, just like you couldn’t explain your sudden proximity to the man, the achingly familiar closeness you felt. But you knew, somehow, some way, Steve was right. 

Tears stung your eyes, a fiery nip that you tried to blink away and when the music slowed to a stop and the next song began, Steve kept moving, your body melted to his, no space between either of you to be able to determine where you ended and he began.

Your voice cracked when you spoke. “What should we do?”

Steve took a breath before he answered, one hand coming up to push against your hairline, his palm coasting down your cheek, holding you, cherishing you. His touch was hot with adoration. 

“We can keep dancing.”

[misspygmypie]

The Promise

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x Noah, Lando Norris x reader Words: 1910 Request: Hello. Lando and Reader having a fight and Lando leaves for a race weekend but reader actually thinks he's going to leave them and tries to hide her crying from Noah but he sees and calls Lando scared he's leaving them making him fly straight back after the race to reassure that he is at leaving his family. Masterlist

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Lando and Y/N had always been known for their supportive relationship but as the current Formula 1 season ramped up the pressure started to show. 

The days leading up to the next race weekend had been some of the busiest for Lando. With meetings, media obligations and endless preparations he barely had time to catch his breath. 

Y/N had been supportive but clearly feeling the strain, especially with a six month old that needed all of her attention she was in desperate need of support. But instead their evenings together were now filled with quiet tension rather than shared moments of joy.

One evening when Lando was scheduled to leave for the next Grand Prix soon Y/N brought up the plans for their last few hours together. “I was hoping we could spend some time with each other before you leave,” she said softly as they sat in their living room. “Maybe a quiet dinner or just a night in? We could get a babysitter for Noah and Maebry.”

Lando, his mind still swirling with the demands of the upcoming race, responded with a distracted sigh. “I really can’t, Y/N. There’s so much to do. The team is depending on me and I need to be focused. This race is crucial.”

“Every weekend is crucial, Lando,” Y/N’s eyes flashed with frustration. “It feels like we’re just drifting apart. We barely see each other and now you’re going to be gone again.”

“You know how important this is! I’ve got a job to do and it’s not like I can just skip race preparations because you’re feeling left out!”

The argument escalated quickly. Emotions flared as Lando accused Y/N of not understanding the demands of his career, while Y/N felt neglected and undervalued. Their emotions got more tense by the minute and soon harsh words were exchanged.

In the heat of the moment Lando decided he needed space. “I can’t deal with this right now,” he said tensly. He packed his bags, his mind racing with the pressures of the upcoming Grand Prix and the unresolved tension with his wife.

Y/N watched him, feeling both sad and angry. “Is this really how you want to handle this? Just walking away?”

Lando paused for a moment, his hand resting on his suitcase. He looked back at her, his expression exhausted. “I don’t know how else to handle it right now. I can’t stay here and argue. I need to focus on the race. Maybe it’s better if we talk when I get back.”

With that Lando finished packing and headed out. Y/N, feeling powerless and desolate, stood by the door, her heart heavy while she watched him drive away. 

Y/N paced the living room, her heart racing with a fear that felt all too familiar. The memories of the argument with Lando replayed in her mind. She couldn’t shake the nagging worry that he might not come back, just like Noah’s biological father had done after their last fight. The way he had walked out on them when Noah was just two months old without looking back. 

She wasn’t just scared for herself but for Noah too, fearing that the stability and love they had come to rely on might disappear, leaving them both alone once more.

After bringing the kids to bed Y/N retreated to her own bedroom, shutting the door behind her as tears began to flow uncontrollably. She sank onto the bed, her shoulders shaking with the weight of her fears. The thought of Lando not returning gnawed at her, past betrayals and broken promises fueling her anxiety.

Unbeknownst to her Noah, unable to sleep, had wandered down the hallway and stood quietly by the door, listening to his mother’s muffled sobs. His small frame tensed as he heard her crying, his young heart aching with a growing sadness, sensing that something was terribly wrong.

The weekend dragged on for Y/N and Noah. Despite Y/N’s best efforts to keep things normal Lando’s absence was deeply felt. Y/N was preoccupied with her own emotions and the recent argument with Lando, making it challenging to fully address Noah’s growing distress.

The next day, while Y/N was busy in the kitchen, Noah quietly went into his room a few minutes after he had watched his dad on the TV finish practice for the day. Having secretly grabbed his mom's phone, he dialed Lando’s number, his small fingers shaking as he pressed each digit, just how his parents had shown him for emergencies. The phone rang several times before Lando answered.

“Hello?” Lando’s voice came through, busy with the race weekend’s chaos and the exhaustion after the practice session he had just finished.

“Daddy?” Noah’s voice was small and choked with emotion.

“Noah! What’s wrong?” Lando asked, his concern immediate as he recognized his son's voice instead of Y/N’s as expected and he listened to the trembling voice on the other end.

Noah’s tears began to flow freely. “I’m scared, daddy. What if you don’t come back? What if you leave us like… like the other daddy did?”

Lando’s heart instantly ached hearing the raw fear in Noah’s voice. He quickly moved into a private area and sat down, focusing entirely on his son. “Oh, Noah, I’m so sorry you’re feeling this way. I promise I’m not going anywhere. I love you, mommy and Mae very much and I’m coming home soon.”

Noah’s crying intensified. “But what if you don’t come back? I heard mommy crying last night! What if you just stay there forever?!”

Lando felt a sharp pang of guilt and sadness. “Noah, listen to me. I’m finishing up here and then I’m coming home. I’m always thinking about you and mommy and your sister. I would never leave you! I promise I’ll be back soon and we’re going to have so much fun together.”

Noah’s sobs were interrupted by hiccups. “Really? You promise you won’t leave us?”

“I promise,” Lando said firmly. “I love you so much. Just remember, even when I’m not there, I’m always with you in my heart.”

Noah took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Okay, daddy. I love you!”

“I love you too, Noah. Be good for mommy and I’ll see you soon,” Lando said softly.

The call ended and Lando sat quietly, overwhelmed by the emotional weight of Noah’s fears and his own guilt. The pre-race tension seemed insignificant compared to the worry he felt for his family.

Unaware of the conversation that had just taken place Y/N continued her evening routine. When Noah rejoined her in the kitchen he was quieter but seemed somewhat reassured. Y/N noticed the change but was unsure of the source of his sudden calmness.

After dinner she put Maebry and then Noah to bed, her mind still occupied with the issues between her and Lando. When she turned to leave the room Noah’s voice called out softly.

“Mommy, can I tell you something?”

Y/N sat down on the edge of his bed. “Of course, sweetie. What’s up?”

Noah looked up at her, his small face still a bit flushed from his tears. “I talked to daddy. He said he’s coming home soon. And, mommy… I heard you and daddy talking and you crying last night. I was scared.”

Y/N’s heart sank. She reached out to hold Noah’s hand and took a deep breath, struggling to maintain her composure. “I’m so sorry you heard me, Noah. I was just having a hard time. But Daddy and I love you very much and we’re going to be okay. We’re all going to work things out.”

Noah nodded, seeming comforted by her words. “Okay, mommy. I love you.”

“I love you too, Noah,” Y/N said softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. She stayed with him a little longer until he fell asleep, the weight of the most recent events still heavy on her shoulders.

As Y/N left Noah’s room she felt relieved but also sad. The phone call had provided some comfort for Noah but it also highlighted the emotional distance that had grown between her and Lando. Y/N knew they had some work to do when Lando returned. For now she focused on holding her family together, hoping that soon they would rebuild their connection. 

________

After the race, despite the adrenaline and excitement of the weekend, Lando’s mind was consumed by worry. He couldn’t shake the image of Noah’s fearful face and the distress in his voice. The thought of his family struggling while he was miles away drove him to a resolute decision.

When the final checkered flag fell and the race weekend concluded, Lando made a swift choice. He bypassed the traditional post-race interviews and celebrations, driven by a singular focus: getting home as quickly as possible. His team understood his urgency after he briefly explained the situation and provided the necessary support.

Lando rushed to the airport and managed to catch the earliest available flight home, the hours stretching endlessly as he anxiously waited to be back home l with his family. The flight was a blur, his mind fixed on being with Y/N, Noah and Maebry.

It was late into the night when he finally arrived at home. Y/N was in the living room, feeling the weight of the past few days and the tension of the argument with Lando. The apartment was quiet except for the soft sounds of the city outside.

The front door creaked open and Y/N looked up, startled. Her eyes widened as she saw Lando standing in the doorway, looking both exhausted and determined.

“Lando?” she asked, relieved.

Lando stepped inside, his expression earnest. “I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead. I just needed to come back as soon as I could.”

Y/N rushed to him, her eyes filling with tears. “You’re here. You really came back!”

Lando enveloped her in a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry for everything. I heard how upset Noah was and he told me how he heard you crying and I couldn’t stand being away any longer. I needed to be here to make things right.”

Y/N clung to him, her tears falling freely. “It’s been so hard! We missed you so much.”

As they held each other they heard a small, hesitant voice from the hallway. Noah had woken up from the commotion, his eyes puffy from sleep. He peeked around the corner, looking at Lando with a mix of apprehension and hope.

“Daddy?” Noah’s voice was barely a whisper.

Lando dropped to his knees, opening his arms wide. “Hey, buddy. I’m home. I’m really sorry for scaring you. I love you so much and I’m not going anywhere.”

Noah ran into Lando’s arms, relieved as he hugged his father tightly. “Daddy, you came back!"

“I did,” Lando said, holding Noah close. “I’m here now. We’re all going to be okay.”

The tension and worry of the past days began to lift, Lando’s presence providing the comfort and reassurance they all needed.

After Noah was back in bed Lando and Y/N settled in the living room. They spoke quietly, sharing their feelings and discussing the issues that had come up. While the road to resolving their issues would take time, the commitment to being present and supportive was a crucial step forward. 

________

AN: Anon, I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya

[pixiesfz]

steph catley x child (sunshine)

plot: Steph takes you home

warnings: mention of deaths

series master list: here

When Lara passed you cried, cried like hell.

To you Lara was the world, your only world, she was what brightened your day whenever you visited and you were let out of the orphanage, even if it was only for about two hours or so.

But near the end of Lara’s fight, you started to share your world

With Steph.

You knew your sister liked her so you decided to like her, even if she didn’t play for her favorite team.

But now you were packing your bags with the help of one of the older kids.

Steph stood out the front of the door with Jen Beattie, one of her closest friends “Steph stop shaking you’ll be fine” Jen reassured the Australian “I know it’s just-“

“I just want her to have somebody, I promised Lara”

Jen squeezed her friend's shoulder “You still haven’t cried yet?” she asked and she crossed her head “I don’t know why”.

The doors opened to who Jen assumed to be the director of the Orphanage who welcomed them in, Steph was familiar with the woman as she greeted her with a laugh and a smile.

“How is she?” Steph asked the director as they sat down and waited for you to come down with your bags.

“She’s still upset, it’s the worst at six because that’s usually when she would go see her but it’s getting better, she is excited to see you” The woman smiled and Steph nodded “Did we finish all the files, and papers?” she asked and Steph nodded eagerly and Jen pulled them out of her bag for her.

“Now we just have a month trial and we get child services to come and ask her about you and the house life, especially since you have such an important job,” The director told Steph as she nodded, already knowing this information.

Jen watched her friend with a smile, she had seen Steph determined before but right now she looked so determined to give you a good life.

“Stephy” A sniff was heard behind the two Arsenal players as they both turned around quickly to reveal you, your brunette hair curled by one of the older orphans as you chose one of your prettiest dresses, one that Steph bought you when Lara was still alive.

She was out and about with Mini shopping for Harper when she saw the little yellow sundress and thought of you naturally as you always put a smile on everyone's face, like a little ray of sunshine.

But it was slightly cold so you paired it with a white cardigan.

“Hey, Sunshine!” Steph smiled before you waddled over to her, your dress flapping around before lifting you “You look pretty” she gushed and you looked down at her outfit “You look cool too!” you bashfully yelled, truly excited to see her after she finally told you that she was going to adopt you.

Steph had put effort into her outfit, wanting to look sophisticated when she picked you up, she had straightened her hair and wore a suit jacket with matching pants with a white singlet underneath.

Jen had teased her a little but she didn’t care, she was seeing her sunshine.

“Now I have to ask for protocol but Sunshine, do you want to stay with Stephanie?”

You jumped on Stephs knee’s nodding dramatically “Use your words Sunshine” Steph told you and you looked back to the director “Yes please”.

“Okay” the Director smiled, happy you were getting your happy ending with your circumstances “Let’s get you two out then” she laughed and Steph felt the butterflies in her stomach jump around like crazy, Jen got up to grab your bags, there were only two.

With her free hand, she took photos of you two that you both would grow to cherish.

The drive to Stephs was something you will never forget, both your smiles were huge as you asked questions about little things, Sometimes asking Jen about little things, especially asking her how it felt accidentally slamming Alexandra Popp which she was shocked to know but smiled when you told her that Lara was a huge arsenal fan.

“Who was her favorite player?” Jen asked and you put your finger to your chin thinking “Kimmy!” you yelled after remembering “But it was Jill before she moved” You nodded and Steph smiled “You have an amazing memory Sunshine” She complimented you and you nodded.

“It’s my superpower, now I get to remember Lara even more!”

Jen looked to Steph to see if any tears had fallen but no, she just nodded solemnly as she finally drove to her house.

When you got out of the kiddy chair that Steph had set up weeks ago, Steph held you in her arms and gave her keys to Jen to open the door when she opened the door Steph let you down, free to adventure which you did.

“Have you told her about Calvin?” Jen asked as she heard a squeal from you “I thought I put him outside” Steph's eyes popped.

“You have a doggy door”.

“Steph quickly followed your squeal but let out a laugh when she saw you and a still puppy Calvin playing with each other, you on your knees as he licked your face.

“Thankfully she likes dogs” Jen smiled as she turned the corner.

“Do you want to see your room?” Steph asked you and you looked at her with a grin “Do I have to share?” you asked and Steph crossed her head “Nope, you get it all to yourself and it’s a big girl bed”

“I’m a big girl” you smiled and Steph nodded “Exactly”.

You ran to your room with a smile on your face and jumped on your bed with a big yelp as Steph helped you up “Do you like it?” Steph asked as you looked around to see the room.

It had white walls and your draws were wooden but you had little yellow decorations as you told Steph your favorite colour was yellow “I love it!” you yelled, you kept on yelling, your excitement taking over you.

It was later in the day, after Jen went home at six o’clock you ran from the TV room into the kitchen where Steph was cooking pasta in your new pyjamas she bought you.

“Can we see Lara now?”

Steph dropped the wooden spoon in the pot at your words and quickly turned off the gas as she turned to you.

You had been so excited and happy all day that you had forgotten your troubles “We can’t do that Sunshine” Steph told you, bending down to be level with you “Why-“ you stopped your sentence as your memory finally caught up with you “oh yeah” you frowned, a tear escaping your eye which Steph wiped away quickly “I forgot” you cried a bit more.

“that’s okay” Steph eased you as she felt her eyes starting to water from your mistake “I forgot” you repeated and buried yourself into Steph's neck “It’s okay Sunshine” she squeezed your tights as tears began to flow down her cheeks.

Lara was truly gone.

Steph was all you had left.

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 7

Title: Hard Goodbyes and Favourite Colours

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Nel flies home, Yuri flies back, Jungkook can't stop thinking about the other night. And you? Gods, don't even get me started.

Warnings: T, language, fluff (?), angst, reader is ~not~ okay for a chunk of this, bye bye Nel! it was nice to meet you, Yuri being the bestie she is, playful antagonism, JK thinking a lot, some photography technical words but nothing scary, reader is painting again, shocker.

Word Count: 4,463

Release Date: July 9, 2024. 2:00PM

A/N 1: Hi this was supposed to be released like a month and a half ago but then i went to europe and my brain was anywhere but near electronics. Anywhooo here she is, as always thanks for waiting and I'll try to be more consistent now that post vacation depression has kicked in.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Sometimes life works out incredibly conveniently for you, like when Nel’s flight leaves a half hour before Yuri’s gets in at the same airport. 

But then it sucks again as your week with Nel flies by so quickly it feels like you’ve had no time at all while also having so much because of all the new memories you’ve both made. 

Currently in a rideshare and airport bound, because you will be in no way okay to drive back, your grip on Nel’s hand is strangling as you take in every last second of time you can get with him. He keeps giving kisses to your forehead, nose, cheeks, mouth; anywhere he can get access to really. 

He doesn't want this week to end just as much as you don’t. Fuck this fucking sucks so much.

The driver pulls up to the terminal drop off, and you both exit. Nel grabs his bag from the trunk, now filled with little mementos from your week as well as his clothes. A pressed flower from the greenhouse, museum postcards, a doodle you did for him while he was sketching, and more, all tucked away for safekeeping. All the only physical things he can hold onto until he sees you next. 

Walking into the airport, you make your way up to the check in desk, paperwork already in hand. Nel checks in and you request an escort pass, determined to spend every last moment together. 

There’s a lump forming in your throat that you’re trying to swallow. It’s thick, like a ball of unending peanut butter you can’t get down. And your chest feels like a black hole has opened inside of it, right where your heart is supposed to be. Every second that ticks away allowing another drop of the warmth you have with him to be sucked right out of your sternum.

Painful doesn’t even begin to describe this feeling. 

As beautiful as your week was, the reality of the present is setting in, and the closer you get to his gate, the closer you are to tears. You’re trying your best to blink them away, but you won’t be seeing him until winter break, and even then, that’ll only be for a day or two at most before you have to wait till summer to see him again. So it might as well be goodbye for those full 6 months.

It hurts. It hurts so bad to have to go through this over and over again, to have this separation from the one you love, even if it’s only temporary. Funny how temporary can sometimes feel like forever when you’re in the middle of it. 

Funny how the concept of temporary doesn’t make the gash in your heart open any less.

You don’t want him to go, but you know he has too. The faster he goes, the faster he can come back to you. 

You hate that he has to go in the first place. You just want him to stay. Please, just stay.

But he can’t. 

You reach his gate and before you know it, his flight’s being called to board and your tears refuse to stay inside any longer, the lump succeeding in its plot of victory. They spill down your cheeks in silent rivers, wet splotches on the neckline of your shirt forming as they flow. 

Maybe they’ll create a little lake in the hole he’s leaving you with. There’s certainly enough of them to fill it. Something to fill the void a little until you can see him again.

Nel takes one look before scooping you into a crushing hug, a desperate echo of the one from a week ago. His own tears now staining.

“I love you so much,” he says. You don’t see his eyes squeeze shut, nor do you see him memorizing your smell, as he kisses the top of your head. And his voice wobbles as he whispers, “It’s not forever, it’s just for now.” 

He says those words every time you two part, whether it was for a day or a year. Never goodbye or so long. Never see you later. 

They’ve always been a small comfort in otherwise shitty situations. 

“Just for now,” you get out through quiet sobs, gripping onto him even tighter as you shake. 

It takes you a couple deep breaths before you can say anything without breaking. “I love you too. Please be safe, message me when you land, and do well on your final exams.”

He smiles at that last bit, and your tears free themselves again. You’re going to miss seeing that smile in person.

Nel pulls you in once more, tighter. “It’s always harder when my good luck charm is halfway across the world, but I’ll manage.” Your sobs stutter with a broken laugh, and you’re pretty sure his sweater is going to have tear stains on it. “I promise I’ll message as soon as I can. And I’d wish you luck but you never need it. You always do well.”

The announcement for final boarding calls and both of you freeze in each other's arms. You don’t want him to go. He doesn’t want to go.

But he has too. 

You separate only enough to kiss. It’s messy and wet and gross, but you don’t care. It’s the last one you’ll have for a while and you never want it to end. 

But it does. 

Nel pulls away, and you reluctantly let him. He grabs his bag with one hand, the other holding onto both of yours as he backs away until he can no longer reach. Your arms drop to your sides with the traces of his warmth on your skin.

You watch as the boarding crew welcomes him on, and he takes one look back at you. 

You wave, mouthing ‘I love you.’

He mouths ‘I love you’ right back, and turns the corner.

You waited for Yuri at her terminal after dropping off Nel and taking five—okay ten—minutes to violently sob in the bathroom. 

She took one look at your half smile and puffy eyes and smothered you in a hug. Smelling like sunshine and ocean water, it was exactly what you needed. 

“It’s okay Sweets, you’ll see him again before you know it. This year will pass by so fast, just you see,” she tells you through your whimpers, the tears having returned the second her arms were around you.

They dry sometime on the way home. It was a thirty minute ride back to school, and they fell silently for a solid twenty before you even got in.

You hate goodbyes. 

But Yuri’s seen this three times now, and she always knew that a warm drink and junk food were in your immediate shared futures when she did. Screw healthy coping methods. It may be 9:30pm on a Sunday night, but that won’t stop you from downing a pint as you drown your sorrows in sweet, sweet cookies n cream. 

Yuri also knows you need a distraction, so she doesn’t hold back on telling you every detail of her vacation. 

The duke from a few weeks ago had been a dud. ‘Shit personality and even shittier sex’ according to Yuri. No consultation needed. 

But this new guy from the Ilcalos Islands sounds promising. He’s a Count of something she can’t remember but in her words, “big heart and even bigger dick.” 

That makes you giggle. And you’re happy for her. 

“Bitch, the second night he did this thing with his tongue and an ice cube and oh. my. god. I think I’m in love. That man could do whatever he wanted to me and I’d still say thank you afterwards,” she’s rambling at this point and you’re mentally apologizing to the driver for having to hear all of it. 

You, on the other hand, don’t mind at all; gladly welcome it actually. You want your mind anywhere other than the present right now. 

You don’t want to start crying all over again. By the morning you’ll be fine, you’ll have let out everything you needed too. But between then and now, it’s a matter of mentioning the wrong words or seeing an intriguingly designed building that could trigger those pesky tear ducts.

So you listen to Yuri go on and on about this guy, all his techniques and what she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about since she last saw him. His number is already saved in her phone under a very inappropriate name, but you expect nothing less from her. 

You love her for it. For this. 

For knowing what you need to stay afloat right now and not allowing you to throw the anchor overboard with your leg chained to the end.

You really fucking hate goodbyes. 

You’re staring at him. 

Like, full on, no bars held, staring at him. 

And Jungkook’s pretending he doesn’t notice.

You’re sitting in your chair and he’s back in his beside you at greenhouse cafe. Your half done painting of pink flowers sits in front of you, his laptop screen’s filled with this week's newly assigned ‘Studio Portrait Techniques 1’ homework. 

His half finished coffee on his table. An empty pastry bag on yours.

His hands on his keyboard, yours gripping a brush.

And you’re staring at him. 

He’s hoping it’s because this is the first time you’ve seen him since Nel left. 

But it’s probably to do with the fact that he hasn’t looked at you once today. Or the fact that he’s barely spoken at all when he usually can’t seem to shut up when it’s been more than 48 hours since he last saw you. 

Because it’s also the first time he’s seen you since he was with Adaline, imaging she wasn’t Adaline.

“You’re acting weird,” you say.

“No I’m not,” he responds a little too quickly, eyes still focused on his computer.

Yes he is. He really, totally is. 

“Yes you are, you won't look at me and you’ve barely said two words since I got here.” Well your knack for observancy is still intact.

Normally that's a good thing, but right now?

“Did I do something wrong?”

No. No you didn’t.

He did.

He let his emotions get the best of him in a moment of weakness. He let himself become so overwhelmed with feelings he isn’t allowed to have. He let them win for a single night.

And now if he isn’t paying the goddamned consequences. 

After that night with Adaline, Jungkook had woken up filled with regret. He’d crossed a line he didn’t even know he should have drawn in very dark, very permanent ink.

For letting himself, just for one moment, imagine what it would be like to be with…

And things are harder than ever to shove down now. He can’t look even look at you without thinking about it. About what he did. What he wanted. 

Wants.

Fuck, he’s in over his head.

Jungkook forces himself to look at you, putting his years of social training and emotional masking to good use. It sure as hell came in handy during times like this.

Because you can never know. 

He can’t lose you because he's unable to get his shit together. It’s not your fault he feels like this. 

So he lies. Both to you and to himself, hoping it might help him believe it.

“Nothing’s wrong Dali, just focused on my work is all. We got assigned a big project on Monday and I’m planning out all my shoots.”

You look hesitant, like you can see right through his bullshit excuse that was only a half excuse because this project is massive. 

“If you say so,” your tone implying you don’t believe him, but thankfully, you let it go and lean closer to him to see. He pretends his breathing doesn’t hitch, “What’s the project?”

“It’s my final assignment for a class, I have to do a series of five portraits. Each one with a different style, capturing a different emotion, and they all have to be of the same subject to show the true versatility of my work. It’s easy to make things look different when it’s different people being photographed,” he explains.

Therefore, this assignment, and all of its working parts, is huge. He’s glad it’s due in the middle of December because it’s going to take him almost a month of planning to get it all together; backdrops, concepts, costumes, previsualization, focal lengths, props, equipment, lighting setups, etc. And then when the planning is over: to shoot, narrow down and edit. 

But that’s the point of it. To have the students demonstrate they know how to effectively expand on the definition of a ‘portrait’ instead of having one concept in mind and sticking to it. 

‘To broaden your creative approaches to seemingly simple constructs,’ as his professor would say.

He loves the way this professor does assignments. How she layers them so that not only does he learn how to shoot multi-concept ideas for the same project type, allowing him to add to his creative portfolio, but they also force him to break out of the expected conclusions for an idea and think outside the box. 

“Oh wow, that is a lot,” you say. Because you understand long running projects. 50 hour paintings don’t just happen in a day. “Do you have any ideas yet?”

“Yeah! I have them all already, actually,” he turns his computer towards you and you see a point by point list of summarized ideas.

- Bright and bold - happy, bright smile, colourful gels - Black and white, soft light: gel or bounce? Silk diffuser  - profile with water falling on face - relieved - Focused on passion - candid, regular colour. Diffuser? Or silk flag? - Normal colour profile, stark lighting - serious, front facing body, profile facing left, no visible clothing, “regal” _|(_*-*)>_. Flag.  - Mysterious - black background, white smoke, barely visible model, lower half of face painted black, upper half white, striking purple eyes (contacts?). Flags. Gels? 

“I’m really excited for this project,” he says, “it’s just the prep that’s going to take a while. Getting it all mapped and planned out. It’s mostly concepts right now.”

You nod, understanding once again. Though very different mediums, visual arts and photography are similar in many ways. 

“Adaline going to be your model?”

It doesn’t surprise him you think that, but he has no intentions of ever using Adaline for assignments or homework. 

“Actually, I… uhh…” he trails off. Jungkook’s trying to get the words out, he is. But they’re surprisingly difficult for some reason, and getting caught in his throat. 

Which makes his earlier anxious state come back in full force. 

It shouldn't be this difficult. It won’t be the first, second or fifth time he’s asked you.

Get the words out Jeon. Put on your professional face, this is nothing new.

He fails, instead, his voice comes out barely above a whisper as he says, “I was going to ask you if you would.”

You somehow hear him. 

“Me?” you look dumbfounded. 

“Yes, you.” He’s always used you for homework assignments before, so he’s not sure why all of a sudden this is surprising. Maybe because it’s a final assignment versus a weekly one? The effort will be greater? 

“But you have Adaline? I assumed that she would take up the position of model when you guys started going out.”

Oh. That makes more sense. 

But that is one mistake he won’t be making again, because he did ask Adaline. 

Once.

It was recent, Nel was still here and he didn’t want to disturb you because of that. Plus Jungkook was just trying to get a jump on his upcoming assignments anyway, taking a page from your book.

So he asked Adaline. And she leapt at the opportunity, like he expected.

What he didn’t expect, was when she essentially directed, staged, lit and posed every. single. shot. so that she would look her best. 

All he did was click the capture image button when she said too. 

And after the shoot, before he could even think to look at the pictures, Adaline was already there, holding his camera, going through them and deleting any picture she deemed ‘ugly.’

He was left with less than 20 images from the shoot where he was ordered to take over 200. And she even made him switch out one of the three he narrowed down for one she liked better. 

So no, he would not be asking Adaline to model. 

Ever again.

“Nah. You’re a lot easier to work with because you don't care how the pictures turn out, and let me do my thing. Adaline cares a bit too much, and has to have approval on all of them before I submit.”

You snort. “Seriously? Is she that self absorbed?” a quirked brow places itself on your face to match the smirk now on your mouth.

That’s new.

Your tone towards Adaline has always been neutral, if not a bit sharp when he talks about her. 

But this one? It’s like you know her, and knew she was like that, but didn’t know it was this severe. 

Adaline is very popular...maybe you two met and it didn't go well?

It certainly sounds like you don’t like her, if those six words were anything to go by. Which, he guesses they shouldn’t, but he knows you well enough by now to know the difference.

And if he’s honest, that wouldn’t shock him in the slightest. You two are nothing alike, and thank god for that. 

He covers for Adaline, like any boyfriend would. Though it stings a little bit.

“She’s just careful about what images could be leaked to the press. Can’t really blame her for that.”

Your face changes minutely, as if a second of understanding passes through before you turn to go back to your painting, and mutter, “no, you can’t,” placing a splash of pink on a flower. 

He returns to his work as well, switching the portrait assignment out for a different one. He needs to get his mind off it for a while before circling back. 

And the fact that you didn’t answer him. 

Deciding on a Design and Visual Culture assignment due next week, he dives in head first, resuming his earlier state of focus and avoidance.

Jungkook’s editing a picture when you stretch. 

You often hunch over your work, so you try to stretch every 30 minutes or so. Your arms are in the air and he catches a peek at the nearly finished floral study. 

They’re some kind of vibrant pink dangling flowers, and you’ve captured the likeness of them quite well, to no surprise of his, so he goes to compliment it but you beat him to the punch.

“Shots blurry.”

Jungkook does a double take at his laptop screen. He’d spent the better part of 40 minutes editing the image and hadn’t noticed that.

Because it’s not. It’s perfectly crisp and clear.

When he looks back to you, you have a shit eating grin on your face. 

Ah, he knows that look. 

You love to tease him about little things like that, giving him mini heart attacks. ‘Pay back for that first day,’ you claim. 

Well…

Two can play this game, so he plays off your comment.

“Oh, you're right. Thanks,” and he switches to another image. 

Your grin falters but you recover quickly.

“No problem.”

See, while you know how to playfully harass him about his pictures, Jungkook knows how…particular you are about your colours. How they need to be labelled correctly instead of by their umbrella terms like ‘blue’ or ‘red.’ Because blue or red could mean any one of the dozens of ‘sub colours.’

‘It’s not blue, it’s cerulean,’ you’d remark. 

‘That’s not red, it’s burgundy,’ you’d correct him.

You’re always correcting him, and it makes his pants tighten a little bit every time. But that’s on the other side of the line he does not cross anymore. A nice, big, fat, permanent, protective line. 

Jungkook settles for a more subtle method of attack. Using this little fact and your ridiculously extensive knowledge of flowers against you. 

He never thought the defense and attack lessons his father put him through would come in handy like this. But he’s glad for them now. It was the only time he could ever outsmart you.

He gestures to your canvas. “Those pink flowers are pretty, what are they called?” 

“Their common name is Lady’s Eardrop. And they’re magenta.”

Hook, line, sinker. 

He doesn’t even have to try, you walk right into it every time.

“Lady’s eardrop? That’s a weird name…do they come in other colours besides pink?”

You don’t look up as you reply. 

“Magenta, and yeah. Some are plum and magenta, some are a buttery white and magenta, and then some have this like, almost dark tangerine hue, but they’re a different type, longer. Not the same as those,” you point with the end of your brush to the greenhouse, where the fully magenta lady’s eardrop sits in the window. 

“And are these pink ones your favourite?” he’s really trying his best to keep a straight face as yours contorts with an eye twitch at every use of the word.

“They’re. Magenta. And sure, but the plum ones are pretty too.”

“Noted, the pink lady's eardrop are your favourite among eardrops.”

You break, turning to him, voice raising in minor annoyance. Jungkook bites his cheeks to keep a smile at bay.

“They are magenta. Not pink. Pink entails a lighter hue, there’s more titanium white in pink. That,” you point again, “is very clearly, magenta.”

He has to. 

He can’t help it. 

You’re sexy when you're assertive, he thinks. Tip toeing on that nice, big line.

But also hilarious. 

“Same difference.”

He can see the fire in your eyes blaze.

“No, not ‘same difference,’ they’re magenta!”

He’s leaning in. “Pink,” eyeing your lips as you speak. 

You lean in too, enunciating every syllable to prove your point. “Ma-gen-ta.”

Your noses are mere inches from touching. 

“They’re pink, Van Gogh,” he backs off before he does something stupid that he’ll regret, “Don’t get so invested.”

You back off too, sass still very evident when you reply, “They’re fucking magenta, asshat. Two completely different colours and you’ll label them as such around me.”

You’ve always had a mouth on you. One you aren’t scared to use when necessary, especially around him. So he doesn’t push any farther, knowing he’s already gotten what he wanted and then some. 

But also because sitting has become slightly uncomfortable. There was a stiff breeze, he tells himself.

Thank god for baggy, oversized hoodies. 

Returning once again to his work, he puts an elbow on the table and places his hand on the left side of his face to hide the massive smile that’s trying its best to turn into a smothered laugh.

Unfortunately for him, he lets his Princely guard down around you and so he forgets to force it down to an uncomfortable degree like he would at the palace. His laugh slipping out as a strangled noise and he quickly turns it into a cough, hoping you don't notice. 

But you do, because it’s you. Of course you do.

And the look on your face is priceless.

“You did that on purpose!”

“What?” he says way too high pitched. “Nooo, I would never, one hundred percent intentionally, say pink just to get back at you for pointing out the non-existent blur in my perfectly clear picture.”

He can see you trying to control your features, can see you failing and giving up by facing your canvas again, smiling to yourself.

“I was wondering how many times I could get you to say it. I think that was somewhere around ten? Gotta be a new record.”

You roll your eyes at him, but your quirked mouth remains. 

“You’re such a dick,” you quip.

“Yet, you like me anyways.”

You mumble something incoherent.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Awe, c’mon now. Fess up.”

A pause, before, “I said I just remembered I don’t know your favourite colour.”

No you most certainly did not, but he’ll let it slide.

“Black.”

“Ugh, boring.”

“What?”

“Boring,” you say again with absolutely no hesitation and proceed to grace his eyes with your own. “And technically not a colour. Black’s a shade.”

Jungkook offers up a non-smothered chuckle, saving his throat from further shenanigans.

“Whatever, Seurat, it’s still black. What about you? What’s Miss High and Mighty All Knowing of Colours’ favorite?”

“It’s still a shade,” you repeat.

“It’s still my favourite. Answer the question,” he presses. 

You give him an unimpressed stare. 

“Violet. Royal violet. The one your dad wears a lot,” your expression softens to one of wonder as you continue. Like you didn't just refer to the King of the nation you live in as ‘his dad’ so casually. “And when it’s not that, it’s this bright yellow. Like sunflowers or daffodils. Or the colour leaves turn in the fall when the light hits them from above just right.”

It’s Jungkook's turn to stare now. You look lost in your own head, envisioning the colours you describe, seeing them dancing in your eyes. And he can’t help himself, you glow when you speak about something you're passionate about.

“Why two?” 

“Why not?” you answer, still dreaming, colours swimming in oceans of thought. Your voice is almost whimsical. “Don’t you get bored of one colour for too long? It’s nice to switch things up every now and then.”

His reply brings you back down to earth, albeit slowly.

“Red.”

“Hmm?” you touch ground.

“If you won’t accept black, then red. The rich dark one, like blood.” He chose the first colour that came into mind, not really caring which one. 

He did like red. Red looked good in many ways. On cars, clothes, lips...

But he chose the first one that popped into mind because after hearing your favourite colours and the reasons why, he started to like them more than all the others too.

“Red’s a great choice, strong,” you say, allowing him the blanket term just this once.

“Thanks.”

There’s a moment of comfortable quiet between you before you break it.

“When do you need me for the shoot?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows find his hairline. 

That was a yes, right? You’re saying yes?

“Uhm…soon, I’ll let you know the specifics when I do.”

“Sounds good.”

He was going to leave it at that, but adds, “Thanks, Y/N.”

He hasn’t said your name since the assembly. 

Always nicknames when talking to you. Always. 

Never your name. 

Not once in two months. Almost three.

You—

An inhale.

You…like it.

The way it sounds coming from his lips.

Exhale.

Chapter Eight: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries

A/N 2: She's shorter but chapter 8 is like 11k so far, so I hope that makes up for it!

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[marvelwitchergilmore]

In A While...

Summary: Spencer Reid x Fe!Reader -> You were first introduced to Spencer through Emily, however, six years later, it seems some things are beginning to change.

Disclaimer: This is part one. A lot of pining, fluff and a little angst to come. Part two here. Not proof read.

Before…

“Who is that?”

“Who’s who? Oh.”

“Baby girl, do you know-”

“No, but, oh. She’s cute. Hey, do you think-”

“Hey, guys. What’s going on?”

“You know her?”

Emily’s face lit up. “Actually, I do.”

Emily had called out your name, and when you looked up, you’d gone from looking a little lost and a little intimidated to bright and confident. 

“Emily.”

Emily hugged you tightly and began asking questions about your journey to the office when more people gathered around her, leaving you to assume they were her teammates she always talked about. 

“Oh, right. Yes, this is Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, JJ you’ve met, and…where’s Reid?”

“I’m here.”

That was the very first day you met him. 

From behind Morgan, Reid stopped in his tracks and was introduced to you. The little sister of one of Emily’s friends. You’d applied for a small internship role at the Bureau. But once Emily caught wind of your name going through the servers, she asked Hotch if you could be placed with them. 

It would only be for two weeks and you had enough experience already with research which allowed you to help consult on cases with Garcia by your side. 

Once Hotch had finally made his introductions, you were thrown into the deep end. 

And, for the most part, it was smooth sailing. 

Your small background in linguistics helped on a case in Georgia, you’d made fast friends with Penelope who, within the first half an hour of meeting you, wanted to adopt you. And the team really seemed to like you, and best of all, you liked them. 

You also, despite your forced effort to shut it down, began to develop a small crush on one Doctor Spencer Reid. 

Granted, it didn’t go anywhere. After all, it was just a small crush. But it was nice to have his friendship. 

He was only three years older than you, so it made things easier. 

Everyone else, like Emily, was close to being ten years older than you, save for JJ and Spencer. 

“So, how do you know Emily?”

“She’s my sister’s best friend,” you replied. “They were in the same year at College. I was just the little sister, but they made me feel welcome. Less shut out despite the age gap.”

“Is that how you found this job?” Penelope asked you. 

“Sorta. It wasn’t nepotism or anything like that,” you quickly jumped to explain. “I- there was a posting for applicants. Emily didn’t even know until she called me up and asked me because she saw my name go through one of the servers. She knew before I did that I had been accepted but, instead of catching a train into DC every day, she helped me find a posting here.”

“Well, I’m glad. We need more girls around here.”

You smiled at Penelope’s comment, soaking in the moment before a call came through from Hotch. 

After the two weeks had finished, you returned back to College, but not before you had one final drink with the team. However, research for your Master’s still called. 

“No, no, no, please, please stay.”

“I can’t,” you smiled as Emily tried to drag you closer to the bar. 

“I will call you in the morning, but right now I need to finish up some research.”

Emily groaned. “Fine, but let me go with you.”

“No, Em, you’re having fun.”

“I can’t let you go alone.”

“I can go with her.”

From behind you, Spencer appeared. 

“No, it’s-”

“Please, it’s my pleasure.”

Emily smiled when you looked back at her. “Thank you, Reid.”

Spencer just smiled. 

Emily hugged you, but you were the last to let go. “Have fun.”

“Not a word.” you told her. 

“About what?” she pretended. 

That night, Spencer walked you home. And you both just talked. About anything and everything. He rattled off statistics about the amount of people that walk home, vs drive and catch the train. He asked you about your Masters and you told him. He even gave you some book recommendations which you checked out from the library the very next day. And you asked him about the love for his job which, by the time you reached your apartment, he told you;

“You should apply.”

“For what?”

“To be an Agent. I think you’d be really good.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Aside from your resume?” Spencer thought for a moment. “It just…seems to suit you.”

For the rest of the night, you tried to imagine your life from the past two weeks, being the rest of it. 

And it didn’t seem all that bad of an idea. 

Six years later…

You’d been, officially, SA Dr. Y/n Y/l/n of the BAU for four months. Before that, you had worked within the State Department for three years since your knowledge in languages was helpful for their investigations, and before that, you were placed from post to post, helping agents with their cases, mostly in and around the East Coast. 

And the minute you walked into the building, it oddly felt like coming home. 

You’d lived in Virginia most of your life, but working with the BAU…felt like home. 

This was also helped by the fact that Emily had decided to come to town for a visit, even if it wasn’t for long. 

“Oh my god, Emily, Hi.”

“Penelope,” Emily smiled before hugging her. 

“I really am really happy to see you but right now…”

“We’ve got a case?” you asked. 

“Big one.”

“I guess I’ll catch you later, then?” Emily asked. 

“Or you could consult?”

As if appearing out of thin air, you all turned to find Hotch stood behind her. 

“We’re always welcome to have you on the team, Emily. Even if it’s just as a consultant.”

Penelope had a badge for her by the time you’d all made it into the briefing room. 

“Here you go.”

“Thank you.” Emily replied before pinning it to her shirt. 

“We have a case…”

Penelope went on to explain the case and within twenty minutes, the wheels were up. You had taken your seat next to Rossi, and across from Spencer. And even though she was paying attention to the case, Emily couldn’t help but notice the small look in Spencer’s eyes every time you looked at each other. 

She also knew that look meant more than what Spencer’s brain was willing to admit. 

And it only continued to happen. 

Three days later, Emily watched yourself and Spencer dance around each other, like you knew each other’s every move. 

You both stood in front of the evidence board, moving things around as you talked about the case, working out the geo-file. And every time you stood back, Emily could have sworn she saw Spencer’s eyes glow when looking at you. She also didn’t fail to notice the double glances you passed each other, just a few seconds away from catching each other in the act.

Emily had always known you had a small crush on Spencer. Even from the first day you met. The fact you could barely look at him for the first four days was her biggest sign. But when she’d asked JJ about you two when you’d officially joined the team, it seemed like…nothing. 

You’d both just become…friends. 

Nothing more. 

But Emily couldn’t be the only one to see it. 

So when Derek snuck up on her as she watched the both of you, it gave her some confirmation to her doubts that ‘friendship’ was all that was between yourself and Spencer. 

“They’ve practically been glued at the hip.”

“Clearly.” Emily stated. “They seem to be in sync with one another.”

“Been like that since her first day.” Derek explained. “Now they don’t even have to talk. They just…know.”

“And nothing ever…”

“No.”

“Hey, guys?” Spencer called out. “We might have something.”

You went on to explain what you had found with Spencer’s help. 

However, by the end of the case, Emily finally got the answer she was looking for. 

Spencer trailed your every move with his eyes as you unbuckled your belt, stood and grabbed a snack and drink for yourself and JJ. 

“Hey, Reid?”

He snapped his attention to Emily who was sitting across from him. 

“If you want to ask her, she might just say yes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” And he turned back to his book. 

“Hey, Spencer?” Emily placed a finger on the top of his book and pushed it down. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

Emily waited for him to continue. 

“I…I know that we’re friends but recently I’ve just felt…different. And I can’t even remember when it started. All I know is one day we’re walking back from a coffee shop, and the next…”

“You can’t take your eyes off of her?”

Spencer felt slightly embarrassed, but nodded all the same.

“I know something has changed, but I don’t know when or even how. But I know it’s changed and…it’s different, and I don’t hate it, but I also can’t seem to make sense of it.”

“Do you think she feels the same way?”

That was a question Spencer had been asking himself for weeks. “I don’t know.”

“Have you thought of asking her?”

“What if she says no? I like her but…”

“You don’t want to lose her.”

Spencer shook his head. And then his eyes found you again as you walked back to JJ and handed her her drink and bag of chips before sitting down beside her with your own. 

He’d lived his entire adult life as an FBI agent and somehow the prospect of his feelings for you and the potential chance of losing you was the scariest thing he’d ever witnessed.

[lssugaluv]

What they do to stay up to wait for you to get home.

• Haikyuu x Fem Reader

• Haikyuu headcannons.

• Hakyuu Timeskip.

• Characters: Kuroo, Atsumu, & Sugawara.

• Synopsis; You decide to go out for the first time in a long time with your friends & sister. Your boyfriend/husband is not used to you being gone so long and tries his best to wait for you to get home back to him.

• Contains; fluff <3

• Atsumu is married to you and you both have one son.

• Kuroo is your long term boyfriend.

• Suga is your husband and you two are newlyweds.

Suga

You and Suga are about six months into your marriage. It’s been such a beautiful thing. Being able to sleep by each other’s side every night, waking up to him every morning. Being able to cook dishes for him, being able to experience life together with your soulmate. It’s like if the two of you had this small bubble in your own home and it was just the two of you. Until your two high school besties have been trying to get you to go out with them for the longest.

Suga has been encouraging you to go out but you just don’t have the courage to leave him alone, even if it is for a couple of hours. But the day comes where you actually did agree to go shop and to go eat to catch up with the girls. Before you left, you do an outfit check with Suga. “You look gorgeous in that yellow dress sweetheart.” He hugs you and swiftly gives you a small peck on the side of your forehead.

You leave at 4 p.m. and do not come back until 10:34 p.m. You and Suga are usually in bed no later than 9. (Yes I know, a small pair of old people.) You open the door to your house and remove your shoes. You hear nothing but snores coming from your kitchen. As you quietly walk towards the kitchen, you see your husband asleep on the kitchen table with two empty cups of coffee.

You gently move his shoulder to wake him up. “Baby.. wake up.” As he slowly opens an eye, he jumps up and hugs you tight. “I’m glad you’re home safe.” You both go to brush your teeth and get ready for bed. As you both lay in bed he says, “I tried to stay awake y/n to wait for you but the coffee did not help.” You laugh as you cuddle yourself next to him. “I love you Suga.”

Kuroo

You and Kuroo made this agreement 5 years ago before you moved in together. That when one of you needed space, it was okay to go out with friends. You both shared the same group of friends but of course you loved for Kuroo to have guy time as for you to have girl time. The only thing is that your boyfriend always loves to be with you. Yes, he agrees that it is good to have space once in a while, but he doesn’t know what to do when you’re gone for a couple of hours.

Your friends planned a beach day to Kamikura, Japan. You all live in Tokyo so it’ll be about an hour drive. You get all your things ready the night before. Kuroo walks into your shared room and stands by the door with his arms crossed. “Do you have to leave me?” You look at him with a gentle smile, “baby, it’s just for half of the day. I will be back.” You start to walk towards him. “I know, I was just joking. I want you to have fun, you deserve it.” You wrap your arms around him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

You and your four friends leave around 9 in the morning and arrive to the beach almost at 11 am. You guys take thirst traps in your bikinis (you had a one piece) as you guys have fun running in the waves. You all got to tan together and lay on your towels watching the sun set. It was great.

You get home until 1 a.m, (I know, time flew) You walk into your apartment and all the lights are off. The only thing you see is a bright light coming from the living room. As you approach the living room you see a bright light and hear noise coming from the television. You see your Kuroo sound asleep with the blanket on the ground alongside the remote. He has his phone on and you can see he was watching your location. You then turn to the tv and see he has Bridgerton season 2 on. You were complaining to him that he needed to catch up because you wanted to watch the newest season with him. Your heart almost popped out of your chest. You wake him up, turn the tv off and walk together side by side to your room.

Atsumu

You and your friends have been dying to go see Fujii Kaze in concert. That was when your bestie sent to your group chat a screenshot of his tour dates and you literally screamed your head off. Before you bought the ticket, you had to check in with your hubby first.

Atsumu was sitting on the couch watching a replay of his recent game while baby Atsumu was doing tummy time. You pick up the baby and sit next to Atsumu. “Babe. So in a month from now, Fujii Kaze is coming to Japan and the girls and I want to go. But I want to check if it is not a day that you’re gone for a game.” He pauses the game on the tv and pulls out his phone to check the date. “Baby, you’re one lucky girl. We are off that weekend so I can stay with the baby as well.” He smiles at you and takes the baby into his arms. “You’re going to get the room seats right?” You look at him and curiously smile. “We actually want to go to the floor.” … “well baby, I’m okay with it but I also want you girls safe. Remember you are the wife of Japan’s number one team and setter.” He winks at you and you roll your eyes and giggle. “I know Tsumu but we really want to be on the floor.” … “okay but can you take one body guard? I’ll make the arrangements and I’ll feel better like that.” You agree and thank him with a kiss on the lips.

The day has came for the concert as you dress in some baggy pleather pants with a white corset top. Your hair is waved out in curls with a braid crown and light makeup. Atsumu of course has to praise you and prize you with a huge smack on your ass before you leave. “Have fun sweetheart.” He kisses you and you kiss the baby goodbye.

You get home around 1:30 in the morning after singing your heart out and having some drinks after the concert. You come home to Atsumu and baby Atsumu on the couch sleeping. Your heart completely gushes out of love for this beautiful sight. Atsumu heard you come in and slowly opens his eyes. “Welcome home angel.” He gently smiles at you as you gently pick up the baby from his arms. He gets up and hug you from behind wrapping his arms around your belly. “I missed you. We tried to stay up to wait for you but we both got sleepy after playing on the playground in the backyard.” You smile and snug your baby, “oh I missed the both of you. Let’s go to bed.”

Afterthoughts:

• The sleeping pictures of Suga, Kuroo and Atsumu are NOT mine. I found them on Pinterest, so credit to their creators.

• I tried my best to find a picture of sleeping Atsumu and this was the best I could find.

• I was inspired to write this because I recently went to a concert with my sister and when I got home, my husband was sleeping on the couch waiting for me <3

• I hope you enjoy!

• Please like, comment, and reblogg.

• Not proofread. :(

• Please do not copy my work!

~ love, Lssugaluv

[rowdyslove]

𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄. | luke hughes

꒰ pairing: luke hughes x genderneutral!reader

꒰ genre: angst + fluff (slightly suggestive) + hurt/comfort ;established!relationship!au | short oneshot

꒰ synopsis: the time comes for luke to set off to new jersey, however the both of you find it difficult to assess the situation of his leaving. with emotions rising to their peak and unwanted thoughts taking over, he assures you the best he can that he will not forget you while he’s away.

꒰ word count: 2.6k

꒰ warnings: kissing, very small hint towards sex. (not pursued)

꒰ author’s note: i didn’t really know how to write the description around this one, but i tried :// here i come again with lukey angst (so sorry) it gets better throughout i promise

the most unusual part of the early morning drive to the airport was just how quiet it was.

there was never silence between you and luke, no matter where the two of you were. especially when in the car, there was always some sort of music playing or conversation happening. luke loved to rant on and on about how his previous games had been, or how his classes were coming along. and you always listened intently, staring at him so lovingly as he talked about the things going on in his life, just clinging on to every single word that left his lips.

but this time, the only noise that was filling the car was the ambient humming of the engine as luke drove through the streets of michigan.

neither of you could think of a single sentence that could break the silence. the both of you had spent the entire night leading into the morning just trying to avoid the situation that was coming to you—but neither of you could simply stop what was coming.

despite all of the sweet kisses, precious words, and the long night you spent tangling yourselves in his sheets with soft movements and nothing but pure love being spread into the air around you, luke was leaving for new jersey now. luke was leaving to fulfil his dream of playing in the nhl alongside his brothers, and you were staying back in michigan to continue on with university.

the car ride was completely silent, but that never stopped you from shamelessly admiring the love of your life. you took in all of his lovely features one by one and imprinted them into the forefront of your mind; the adorable mole on the left side of his nose, his soft yet drowsy eyes that stared out at the roads in front of him, his plush lips that still looked swollen from the activities that took place the previous night.

he looked so stunning sitting beside you in the driver’s seat. one hand on the wheel and the other clasped in yours. he never let go of your hand for even a second the whole car ride. no matter how much sweat could be felt between your fingers and palms, he never unlatched his hand from yours.

your boyfriend pulled into one of the very few parking spots of the parking lot he could find with perfect ease, having had done his best practicing for the entirety of his freshmen and sophomore years of university and even ever since he first got his license. he always made sure to bring you along to every one of his games, picking you up from your dorm almost two hours before he would be on the ice, and he would always have you back to the dorms or bring you back to the umich hockey house to enjoy the rest of the day or night with him.

as he finally put the car in park and cut the engine, the both of you refused to speak first. technically, it should've been him, considering that he was the one that had a flight to catch in just about twenty minutes, but he just couldn't. really though, how could he? how could he when he knew that this could be the last time he would be seeing you right in front of him for the next six months?

just like him, you were also having trouble putting your thoughts together as well. now that luke couldn't just divert his attention to driving, the hand on the wheel dropped down to fiddle with the bottom hems of his hoodie nervously. on any other day, his hands would be on you the moment he turned off the car, just touching you in any way he could before you both had to get out. whether it be placing his hands on your waist, or your soft cheeks, or your neck, or just anywhere.

but this time, he really didn't know what to do, especially when you looked like you were teetering right on the edge of tears crashing through the seams of your eyes, and honestly he was feeling the same.

"are you all packed?" you finally asked, forcing your voice to be the first to speak, although it clung at the back of your throat.

"yeah, I finished everything yesterday morning," he answered quietly, looking down at his feet as he continued to distract himself away from the truth of his departure. any people that were walking past the car could have easily assumed that you two were just awkward friends and not a couple that's been together for almost three years now.

somehow, through the heavy awkwardness and the slight stumbling over his words brought a small smile to your face. It almost made things feel normal again. just like the way they always were when luke would act like he was the strongest person in the world and then would suddenly get completely flustered the very moment your lips simply brushed against the skin of his cheek.

"are you ready to continue on with your classes?” the question sounded a bit strange to him, yet it still slipped from his thoughts and into the suffocating air surrounding you both.

“umm yeah, even though we’re starting to look over the most difficult section of the class, i think i’m ready.”

"that’s no surprise honestly. you picked a class that is too much for that brain of yours to comprehend.”

“h-hey!”

the two of you fell into a short yet lighthearted kind of banter, and you were almost surprised about how genuinely easy it was to shift back into a normal with him. after time spent feeling so many emotions and feeling nothing but sadness, you’ve been spending your last moments together pouting about everything rather than just relishing in every last second. you opened your mouth to quickly apologize just as luke spoke to do the same thing.

“luke i—”

“i’m—”

you looked up at him, eyes slightly wide and startled before you released a few giggles, "I'm sorry," you said gesturing and urging him to speak, "you go first."

luke wore a dumbstruck expression across his face, gazing at you as if you were the most precious person in the entire world as the sound of your laughs subsided. unbeknownst to you, you really were the most precious person in the world to him. he lightly shook his head, looking down for a brief moment before looking back up at you, "no please, you first."

looking down at your intertwined hands, you struggled to find the right words to say to him.

i’m going to miss you? have fun in new jersey? i’m so proud of you? please don't forget about me while you're away?

nothing sounded right, and as your eyes gazed into luke’s, you admitted what you were feeling, "I..I really don't know what to say.”

a part of you grew nervous, expecting luke to scoff at your words or be disappointed with how short you were being with him, but he let out an awkward chuckle instead, "honestly, i don't either.”

you released a smile at that, knowing he was feeling the same way you were. yet, the car was now once again filled with silence, however it didn't feel as suffocating anymore. it felt somehow familiar, like the reminders of how peaceful it was whenever you would be with him in bed, huddled under his soft blankets and facing each other, just gentle smiles adorning your faces as you stared at one another.

the two of you gazed at each other. the longing, the sadness, and the love you both held so tightly onto for each other was all being conveyed through the soft sunlight beaming in your eyes. it spilled out and sifted itself through the entire car until the silence bursted wide. your feelings overpowered the knowing goodbyes that were coming, and suddenly, neither of you could control yourselves from spreading your love through touches.

luke was the one to act first, as he always did, but you weren't far behind him. tilting your head quickly to the side just at the perfect angle for him to turn and press his lips firmly against yours. his hand ceased its nervous fiddling of his sweater and moved up to cup your cheek, feeling your soft skin beneath his fingertips.

the kiss was slow and even, as if time had stopped and the only thing that mattered was this moment; luke’s lips against yours, his other hand freeing itself from yours to come up and caress through your hair, carding his fingers in it softly.

you loved this. you loved the way luke made you feel. the bubbling of comfort and safety that you always felt when you were with him.

this was familiar. the gentle push and pull that gravitated between the two of you, not being rushed even in the slightest.

and then, luke slipped his tongue past the parting of your lips and into your mouth, causing you to let out the softest most innocent moan, and you felt the atmosphere change instantly. luke’s hands trailed down your sides, his fingers gripping your waist tightly as he began urging you to glide over to his seat. and what else could you do other than give in to him? especially when his lips were starting to smack so eagerly on yours, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip every now and then, and when his tongue explored your mouth with such a newfound kind of yearning.

you quickly clambered over the middle console just as luke reclined his seat back to give you more room. you settled yourself on his lap, gasping for small breaths right before diving back into his heavenly lips for more. you didn’t care about the people outside that could have been walking by the car, everything around you becoming a complete blur as you and luke became the only thing clouding your mind.

this kiss was so different. the sense of urgency you felt, as if every second that passed was just stolen time for the two of you, and the desperation luke was feeling for you; a strong desire to touch you until the last possible second. just to feel you against him, kissing him, caressing his face. anything that you could give him, he would take it all in like a starving man.

neither of you stopped your movements until you were truly at your peek, teetering on the edge of falling into each other too deep and possibly taking things further right then and there. It was then that you pulled away from your him, chest heaving with fast rises and falls as a thin trail of saliva connected his naturally plump lips to the swollen mess of yours. his hands, which had been roaming over every part of you that he could reach, every part that he was allowed to touch, had finally settled, finding a home in the sweet curve of your waist.

you stared at each other, his eyes a shade darker than usual and yours most definitely glazed over with complete bliss. luke had never ever kissed you like that before. whether it was to preserve your innocence or to avoid making you uncomfortable, even though you’ve already explored over the barrier of just intimate kisses a few times already, you wanted more of it. you wanted him to kiss you like that again and again and again.

through all the passionate kisses and feverish touches exchanged, you still can’t knock away the fact that luke still had a flight to catch; he still had to leave.

"hey hey, wait (y/n)—please don’t—” luke slightly panicked as he caught the sight of your eyes suddenly welling up high with tears. the once ravishing and sultry persona you had gotten out of him just a few minutes ago completely vanished as he quickly took his hands from their placement of your hips and up to cup your cheeks and pad away at the watery tears with his thumbs.

"I'm s-sorry—” you stammered, not having even realized that you were actually crying until you felt the wetness roll down your cheeks, "I'm sorry lu.”

"no no, please don't be sorry sweetheart," luke gently cooed to you in hopes of calming you down. using that oh so gentle tone of voice he would whenever you either had trouble sleeping or when you refused to take breaks during your most stressful of days, "you have nothing, absolutely nothing, to be sorry about, okay?”

"b-but we promised that we wouldn't cry, remember?” you smally said, your voice cracking as luke continued to dab delicately at your tears, "we promised, and now I've just gone and ruined it.”

"(y/n), when have I ever kept my promises about not kissing you in public, or not bringing you to my games because the guys always tease me?”

“n-never?”

luke chuckled lightly at the questioning look on your face, smiling tenderly as he wiped away a stray tear with his thumb as he pressed one final peck to your lips. "exactly sweetheart. our promises are meant to be broken," he hummed, resting his forehead against yours while letting his thumbs rub soft circles over the apples of your cheek. “and before you say it, i know what you’re thinking. so don’t worry, i could easily burst into tears right now too."

you choked out a small giggle, bringing your hand to his cheek, "you such a dork moosey.” the smile you give him is shaky, slightly quivering at the corners while your lips tremble as you still try simmering down from your breakdown.

even though the last smile you wanted to give luke before he left was the brightest one you could ever muster up, your emotions got in the way of that. it wasn’t quite your happiest smile, but it was as happy as you could feel when saying goodbye to the love of your life.

"i’m gonna miss you," you mumbled, stroking his cheek with your thumb just as he did to you.

"i’m gonna miss you too, my love. so damn much," luke’s hand once cupping your cheek dropped down and back to your waist, gripping even tighter than before as he held you closer to his chest. you found comfort in his warmth, placing your ear tight against his shoulder settling feather light kisses to his neck once in a while, curling your legs up onto his lap and letting your fingers move to fiddle with the drawstrings of his sweater.

you wanted to stay like this forever. you wanted him to stay with you, like this in the car, cuddled up together with kisses being shared and not a care in the world about you might see.

your worst fear about this goodbye, was the one question that filled your mind every single waking second of the day for the past week now. and before luke could even get the chance to speak first, you beat him straight to it.

"you…you won't forget about me, right?"

it was almost relieving to him, hearing that his greatest fear for what was to come for the two of you in the future was actually yours as well. in some way, it felt reassuring. it confirmed the feelings in his heart, showing that you truly cared for him in the same way he did for you.

that no matter what you were doing—you were still thinking about him and how he would be feeling.

and now that he was leaving, just knowing that felt like enough for him.

reaching for your hand, he wrapped your pinky finger lightly around yours and brought your interlocked fingers to his lips, and with a gentle peck to the soft skin, he smiled as he spoke, "i will never forget you, my love."

[magics-neptunes-things]

American Dream

Hi guys!

I hope you are well :)

A little story with Alessia, I had several requests in my private messages and I hope you like this one!

Enjoy reading and again my suggestion box is open :)

TW: None

______________________________________________________________

As you drive to New York JFK Airport, you can’t contain your excitement. With catchy music on the radio, you zigzag easily between cars to get to your goal faster. Which makes no sense since it probably won’t make your girlfriend arrive faster, since she’s not the one driving the plane.

But in your defense, it’s been since the beginning of the Christmas holidays that you haven’t see her and your daily Facetime don’t replace by far the smell of her or her hugs. Since you have only been a couple for a few months, you had organized your holiday parties separately. Alessia stayed in England to celebrate with her family while you flew to New York, from where you come, to celebrate with yours. You hope that next year you will manage to do things differently, but at least you will be able to spend a few days and New Year with Alessia before you take a return flight to London together.

The first time you met Alessia, you quickly found yourself having a crush for the pretty blonde. It was on a football pitch, of course. But when you signed your contract for Arsenal after finishing the one at Real Madrid, you fell in love with her. Her smile, her kindness, her blue eyes and every part of her being, finally.

By incredible luck, these feelings quickly turned out to be shared and it was a real thunderbolt that shook you both. Both singles, you didn’t wait long before asking Alessia for a date, who gladly agreed. You can’t count the moments you shared face to face with her, but you never get tired of it. You were afraid at first that your feelings would go away as quickly as they came, but now it’s been almost six months and they are only increasing.

Alessia’s brother set off on a world tour on 27 December, Alessia flew with her parents a few hours after his departure. However, her parents decided to rent a hotel, offering themselves a romantic stay. Besides, they will leave after Alessia and you.

While waiting for Alessia and her parents to arrive, you check your messages and smile as you see the photos that Beth and Viv sent you of your dog. They are the ones who keep him during your absence and you are happy to see that he seems to get along very well with Myle. The time to answer Viv and go around the waiting hall several times, you finally see a blonde head that you know well pass the last security doors.

Your hesitation to run to take her in your arms lasts a few seconds- she’s with her parents after all. But the smile she gives you when she sees you melts your heart and you hurry to reach her height.

"Hi Honey" sings Alessia making you spin around after you put your arms around her neck.

You laugh softly while letting her do it. You have only one centimeter of difference and it amuses you both to carry the other in this way every now and then. Head in the hollow of her neck, you lay some kisses and breath her before she releases you.

"Hi Princess" you answer back, gently taking her face in your hands so you can look at her.

Private but not secret, your relationship was never revealed. Well, there are very truthful speculations circulating on social networks, but you have never taken the time to deny or confirm all this. What happens between you two is up to you, it doesn’t deprive you of posting some stories or photos together.

However, between that and your in-laws watching you, you refrain from kissing her but not to kiss her cheek, before going to greet her parents. You all agreed that you will drop them off at their hotel and meet again tomorrow at noon for lunch, since the evening is already well advanced. With the jet lag, they will probably have some sleep to catch up.

Giorgio’s world tour is the main topic of conversation during the trip to the hôtel, with New York roads being particularly clogged at this time of evening. You look with amusement at Alessia dozing against the window, while listening to what your in-laws tell you. It doesn’t surprise you from the blonde, she has always been unable to sleep during a plane ride. You still remember Ella’s teasing her about it, Alessia not having closed her eye for a minute on the way to Australia for the World Cup.

Alessia wakes up to help you get her parents' suitcases out of the trunk and accompany them to the hotel reception, wishing to make sure everything is in order. After a last reminder of the place and time of appointment for tomorrow, you leave and find your car back.

"Ready?" you ask Alessia after finding your place behind the wheel.

"Mmh almost."

The answer makes you bow an eyebrow, but when the blonde leans in your direction, you quickly understand what’s behind her head. You smile against her lips when she kisses you, grabbing her chin to prolong the kiss for a few seconds.

"Now I’m ready."

A smile still stuck to your lips, you take the road to find your apartment. Located in the center of New York. It’s not very big, but since you almost never live there, it’s more than enough.

"Welcome home" you smile as you close the door to your apartment behind you.

Alessia’s luggage is dropped off near the entrance, letting her soak up the place for now. You take on you not to follow her everywhere, almost desperate at the idea of catching up with all the hugs and kisses you are late.

"It’s pretty" smiled gently Alessia looking around her.

"It’s an original way of saying it’s terribly lacking in personality" you laugh as you approach her, laying a kiss on her cheek from behind, passing your arms around her waist.

You laugh again, feeling her blush, mumbling that it wasn’t what she meant. You know that this is not a very personalized apartment, again you don’t live here daily. Your souvenirs and photos are in your London apartment.

"Are you hungry?" you ask to change the subject and stop teasing her. You put kisses along her jaw instead.

"A little yes" confesses the blonde while putting her hands on your arms.

"I’ll take care of it. You want to take a shower in the meantime?"

"With pleasure"

Grabbing her hand, you drag her into the bathroom, taking the opportunity to show her your place. It’s quickly done since the ground floor contains the living room, kitchen and dining area and the bedroom is on the mezzanine. The bathroom is also on the ground floor.

After helping Alessia unpack her suitcase and taking out her shower kit, you grab your phone to order in the sushi restaurant located two blocks from your home. You know Alessia’s passion for this and you know they are excellent. You also take the opportunity to change into something more pleasant, leaving your jeans to put on a jogging.

A good half hour later, Alessia finally comes out of the bathroom and you smile at her, amused.

"I thought you drowned."

You laugh when you see her rolling her eyes, but you invite her to join you on the couch on which you are. To pass the time, you turned on the TV and some variety show went on. But the pretty blonde doesn’t pay any attention, choosing to come and sit on your lap. Sliding your hands behind her back, you smile tenderly.

"I missed you" she whispers softly.

"I missed you too. I’m so glad you’re here" you add, smiling, putting a lock of her wet hair back in place.

She smiles at you again and you take advantage of your proximity to put a new kiss on her lips. Both cut off from the world, you get lost in your exchange, finally enjoying your reunion together. More kisses are exchanged and somehow your hands find their way under her shirt, eager for the feeling of her skin. At least, until the doorbell of your apartment rang, startling you both.

"It looks like sushi has arrived" you sigh against her lips, disappointed to have to interrupt your moment.

"Sushi?"

You laugh when you see Alessia’s face light up, almost watching her run to answer the door. Having taken care of paying for the order online, you let her receive your meal and you are content to go get plates to arrange the food.

"Oh god I love you" Alessia mumble, opening the different boxes

"You only say that because I know your favorite command by heart" you say, pulling your tongue and turning back.

You didn’t expect Alessia to jump on you abruptly, making you both fall on the couch that slides a few inches on the floor.

"Lessi" you laugh, trying to get rid of her embrace.

"I forbid you to doubt my feelings like that!"

Her harsh fake air makes you laugh but you raise both hands as a sign of remission.

"Sorry Lessibaby, I won’t do it again"

"You better"

[redvelvettel]

DRENCHED IN GLORY ☆ CL16

Charles leclerc x f!reader

Warnings: it might be a bit obvious how much I need want Charles to win the wdc, but should be fine other than that.

masterlist

He had done it. He had finally done it.

Years and years of dreaming. Staying up at night wondering where he was going wrong. Spending hours on end in the simulator perfecting every turn and curve until it was etched in his memory. Crying on the phone because he couldn't be with the love of his life when he was most vulnerable and needed her the most.

Midnights where she held him to her chest and let him cry his heart out because he was frustrated with the car. She had been through it all with him. Cried with him when they lost people who were supposed to be there forever. They've never left each other's sides ever since that fateful day his mother came over to the new neighbor's house to give them a housewarming present.

6 year old Charles felt like he was going to throw up. The girl hiding behind her mother's gown in front of him peeked at him with her doe eyes. Yep. There was something definitely wrong with the poor lad. Because honestly, that's what he felt like. He followed her around like a lost puppy, never leaving her side until she reluctantly agreed to play with his toy cars. And they've been trapped in their own little bubble ever since.

His brother, Arthur had tried to steal her countless times but to no avail. It was like there was some invisible string holding them together. And neither of them ever dared to complain.

Charles won his first ever race mere weeks after meeting her. Ever since she learned that her new friend was racing in fast cars, she had been nagging her parents to let her go to a race with him. After some persuasion from the two children, they had finally let her attend a Karting race after being promised by Lorenzo that he wouldn't let her out of his sight.

She was fascinated with everything. She didn't care that it was just a Karting race, she was so happy and amazed that her friend could drive a fast car so bravely.

So she stood with his brothers and his father proudly cheering his name with her whole heart until her lungs burned, and she didn't stop until he started getting out of the little kart after crossing the finish line first. She ran up and crashed into him with the biggest smile and Charles couldn't help but feel like he was on top of the world.

Neither of the kids cared that it was a Karting race, to her he was the best to ever do it and he would always be on top of the world if she was by his side. Charles knew he wanted her in his life forever, then. As much as a six year old could want anything. That still hasn't changed, and he was positive it never will.

Somehow, Charles had convinced himself that she was his lucky charm, and begged both of their parents to let her attend as many races as she could. She was there with him for every single step as he climbed up the ranks and made it to the big leagues. She held his hand in hers as they walked into the paddock on his first ever official day as a formula one driver, with his name and number on the back of her shirt standing proudly.

It was many years later, and the thirst for glory had only deepened in Charles. When Charles told her when they were little that his dream was to be a world champion, she promised him that she would be right there cheering him on like always, waiting for him when he gets out of the car. He had been dreaming of the moment ever since, and it was about to come true.

She stood in the Ferrari motorhome, arms locked with Arthur, and all the mechanics surrounding them. Her and Pascale, who stood on her right, wore bright red headphones and were leaning onto each other, silent prayers escaping their mouths as they nervously glanced at the screens.

There were 4 laps left and Charles Leclerc could be a world champion at the end of the race, and the team was positive that he would be.

She reached out for Pascale's hand as they all started moving out of the motorhome with the rest of the team, excitement and hopefulness filling her. She knew he was going to win. He had to. This was his dream, and everything he has ever worked for was going to come true. She held on to Arthur and Pascale like her life depended on it, praying to all the gods she could think of. Tears started to fall onto her cheeks, out of happiness for how proud she was of the man she loved. She turned to look beside her and saw that Pascale has also started crying, hugging her tightly as they waited for what felt like eternity.

When he was finally a world champion after he crossed the line, she screamed his name at the top of her lungs, exactly like she did the first time he had won a race.

She felt everyone around her hugging eachother and people on the stands roaring out of happiness, and she couldn't see anything from the tears blurring her eyes.

He was a world champion. The champion of the world. He had finally brought back glory to the most historic team the sport has ever witnessed, and he was the love of her life. She sobbed looking at him as he got out of his seat and stood on the halo of his car, arms wide open as he was drenched in glory. His name was going to be written in the books, immortalising him. His name was going to be noted down in the history of the sport. He was finally a world champion.

His feet finally touched the ground, body shaking with sobs and he look around for his family, frantically taking his helmet off.

He ran into his mother's arms, letting her hold her not so little boy. He called out for her, looking around until he finally spotted her. Everyone with eyes could see how his whole face brightened when he saw her, the whole world other than the both of them disappearing.

He crashed into her, just like she did all those years ago. They held each other so tight it made people wonder if they could breathe, and they didn't seem to care. Everything he has ever wanted in his life had come true and he wanted nothing but to hold her in his arms and not let go.

She could feel his tears drenching her shirt, both of them shaking from the sobs they let out. "You're a world champion Charles, you've done it". He let out a snort of laughter, pulling her closer if that was even possible.

"I love you, I love you." He felt so much love for her at that moment that it felt like his heart was gonna burst if he wasn't careful.

As he slightly moved away so he could look at her, he knew he wanted her forever. He wanted her to be there when he wins championships, when he dnf's, he wanted her by his side during all the happy moments, and all the ugly ones too. His lips were on hers in an instant, with no care of all the people and cameras around him. All they'd ever need was eachother, and he would tear hell apart to keep her by his side forever.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Our children yearn for the waterpark

part one

barbie dolls: Jegulus x you

word:3.9k

summary:James takes you and regulus (along with your children) to a waterpark

warnings: your son is named Elliot, also you're referred to as Ren and Rena like the gn term for your parent so just yk it's not an oc i promise, pushing the trans James agenda, James is a baker and regulus is a stay at home dad/writer you’re a teacher just so you know, modern au I'm SORRY, James’ parents are alive, Regulus has freinds, Regulus hates the public water, Allusions to poc Luna harry and james, your race and elliots race is not menntioned everyone is welocome, you dont get in the water, Regulus is a sunscreen god he loves sunscreen so much, Harry is mentioned to have moms theyre giving divorce core mom and dad’s house, james drives a minivan, allusions to autistic reader and Elliot but its not specified, your swimsuit is not mwntioned or described so again everybody welcome, i hate typos oh my god

You liked dating James and Regulus. Your relationship was still very fresh, but their effect was hard to miss. They made you laugh all the time. James was very energetic, matching your kids well. Regulus was blunt and it relaxed your nerves of missing a hidden message in a conversation. And they were both great parents. Your kids already loved each other and they got along well.

School was out. Meaning both you and Elliot had loads of free time on your hands. With summer in full swing, you set up frequent playdates with Elliot’s two best friends. You wanted him to keep his strong bonds with them and it definitely wasn’t because you missed Regulus and James. Regulus was really self-employed. He stayed at home to raise Luna and to write his books. He could easily add a playdate to his schedule. James however was a baker with hours he had to meet. So he didn’t always have a clear schedule. Harry would stay with his grandparents, Euphemia and Fleamont, while James was at work. Harry also spent a lot of time at his Moms’ house. So making a playdate with all three children involved was harder than expected. Elliot still liked hanging out with Luna, and sometimes even Harry too on certain weekends.

Your phone rang as you were cutting up celery for Elliot. He was going through a peanut butter phase, eating it on everything. You picked up the call, holding the phone with your shoulder and the side of your face.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Pretty. It’s me.” You smiled at James’ voice. Just as you were about to tell him hi again, he started talking. “Lemme add Regulus.” You stayed silent as his side went quiet. You heard Elliot in the other room, clacking his toys together on the dining room table. You snagged a pretzel from the small pile on his plate. Soon enough James and Regulus both joined.

“Are you guys busy this weekend?” You scoffed at James. You heard Regulus sniffle a laugh on his line.

“James, baby, we’re always free. Do try to remember our professions.” You said as you smeared peanut butter onto Elliot’s celery.

“Right yeah, well I just accidently bought exactly six passes to this really cool waterpark,” James said, whispering the last word. You oooed while Regulus snorted.

“James, do share with us how you accidentally bought exactly enough passes for all of us and our children.” Regulus pressed. You heard Luna in the background let out a yell filled with laughter.

“Was that Luna?” You asked. Regulus explained that her uncles were over and attacking her with tickles. Regulus returned the conversation to the waterpark passes.

“alright fine, you caught me. I missed you guys. I’ve been so busy with work, I feel like I haven’t seen you all summer.” You cooed at James while Regulus let out a whine.

“He cares.” Regulus mocked.

“How adorable.” You joined in making James groan loudly. “What day were you planning on going to the p-a-r-k, James?” You spelled out where you were going so Elliot wouldn’t overhear and get excited. You turned around to the color-coordinated calendar on the fridge. It was mostly empty, you and Elliot preferred the company of each other than strangers. Though you had a really exciting playdate with Luna planned next Thursday. What a wild life you lived.

“This Saturday if that works for you two.” You glanced over at the empty box.

“Yeah, I could squeeze you in.” You muttered into the microphone as you turned back to Elliot’s plate.

“Lemme check my planner.” Regulus waited for a second. “Oh that’s right, I hate human beings. I'm completely free.” James let out a sigh of relief. You picked up Elliot’s plate, walking it to the dining room. Elliot was sitting in a chair, his little arms just barely reaching over the edge of the table, smacking two toy cars together. You set his plate in front of him. Elliot thanked you, shoving the peanut butter-covered celery into his mouth. You kissed his forehead, ruffling his hair before pulling back. You noticed his bare legs.

“Baby, where are your pants?” You tilted your head. Elliot pointed to the bathroom.

“Hamper,” Elliot answered.

“Well, good job putting them in the hamper but why aren’t they on your legs?” You asked.

“Didn’t wanna wear ‘em,” Elliot said, his mouth full of celery.

“Can’t argue with that, make sure you chew all the way okay.” Elliot nodded as you left to go clean the kitchen.

“One thing I will say though, I’m not getting that water. Do you realize how filthy those things are?” You tuned back into the conversation listening to Regulus list off statistics of how gross waterparks are.

“That’s okay, I’ll be in the water so I can make sure Luna doesn’t swim away or anything,” James said, clearing up the problem. You nodded.

“I’ll dry off Luna if you don’t want to touch the water on her, and we’ll lay a towel over one of those chairs that are shaded so we know it's clean. If you feel lonely, I'll sit with you and James if you feel tired we can swap places.” You offered, wanting to fill in any potholes in your plans.

“You are very kind, darling,” Regulus muttered. You cooed at him as you shoved the peanut butter back in the high cabinet so Elliot wouldn’t eat it all in one sitting and hurt his stomach.

“You guys are nasty. I was thinking maybe we carpool so nobody gets lost and it saves gas.” James said. You hummed while Regulus made a disapproving sound.

“James, there’s like twelve of us. Are you driving a bus?” Regulus said, poking holes into James’ ideas. If you were looking at James you assumed he’d be rolling his eyes.

“I have a big van. It has enough seating for us, I counted to make sure.” You hummed.

“Okay, baby, whatever you want.” You agreed, putting the celery into the refrigerator. Regulus sighed.

“I suppose that could work.” You snorted at Regulus’ faked disappointment. You heard Luna call for Regulus on his side.

“I’m being called for Yeti in my Spaghetti, I have to go.” You all said bye before hanging up.

Saturday came faster than you thought it would. You were packing a big bag of sunscreen and towels, in no time. You told Elliot he didn’t need to wear his goggles before you even got in the car but he was excited. You let it slide, you’re only seven once. You were a little anxious about the whole thing, you worried one of the kids would splash Regulus. You were worried they would slip on the wet concrete and crack their head. You worried Elliot’s goggles were too tight on his head. You heard an engine approaching. You looked out the window to verify it was James. Definitely his red minivan, bumper stickers littering the back. You turned around to Elliot.

“You know who’s in the driveway?” Elliot jumped up off the couch, bouncing on his feet.

“Harry and Luna?” You nodded. Elliot bolted towards the door. You were opening the minivan door in no time, a wave of hello’s meeting you and Elliot. Luna and Harry were next to each other in the back row.

“They wanted to sit in the back because they’re spies.” You hummed at Regulus’ explanation. You were able to fit Elliot’s booster seat in the back, next to Luna. You pushed the seat in front of them back, sitting in the row in front of theirs. Regulus was in the passenger seat, tilting his head back to see you. You smiled at him warmly as you buckled your seatbelt. James’ face appeared next to his, looking at you.

“Hi,” James said, a light air to his greeting.

“Hi.”

“Okay, waterpark here we come!” James said, loud enough for the back row to hear. The kids all squealed, thrashing their legs and arms around. Your trip to the waterpark calmed your worries. James and Regulus’ presence already working numbers. James apparently made a summertime fun playlist specifically for this. The kids seemed to enjoy it. Luna made her doll dance and Elliot made his car dance. Harry just made himself dance.

You six easily made it through the gates. You were holding hands with Regulus on one side and Elliot on the other. When you look back to see Elliot holding onto Luna’s hand and Luna holding onto Harry’s hand, you had flashbacks to watching ducks cross the road. James was in the front leading you all to his Harry’s favorite part of the waterpark. Regulus narrowly avoided a small kid with Nemo arm floaties splashing. You rubbed his arm in sympathy.

“I'll dry you off if you get any water on you, and I have hand sanitizer and butt wipes in my bag. Regulus knocked your cheek with his head in a thank you. James ran ahead, snagging a sunlounger for Regulus. You pulled a towel out of your bag, handing it to James. Regulus settled onto the chair, digging into his own bag. He motioned for Luna to come over, squirting a mountain of tinted sunscreen into his hands. Regulus smothered Luna in sunscreen, making sure she was covered entirely.

Luna had on an adorable bright orange swimsuit with ruffles around the edges. She had matching arm floaties that she talked Regulus out of, pinkie promising to stay in the shallow end. You knew that within an hour she’d want to go into the deep end and Regulus would have to talk her into a life vest and arm floaties. Luna was free though, slipping her Tinkerbell flip-flops off and splashing into the shallow end. You were in the kid's area so there wasn’t even really a deep end but you could easily imagine Luna tricking someone into taking her to the lazy river.

Harry was next in the sunscreen line. Harry had on a long-sleeved swim shirt and Lighting McQueen shorts. James had on just red shorts. He had already tossed his coverup tee off. You didn’t want to oggle him. James had antler tattoos following the path of the scars on his chest. Regulus’ shorts were blue, you expected him to stay under the shade the whole time.

James pulled his spray can of suscreen out of his bag. Regulus looked aghast at James even thinking of covering a human in that. Regulus slapped it out of James’ hands, using Luna’s sunscreen on Harry instead. Regulus forced James into using Luna’s sunscreen as well. Regulus smothered some over James’ cheeks. It made James fluster, giggling and needing to turn around to take a moment to himself. After Regulus smothered James and Harry in sunscreen, he pulled Elliot over.

You sat next to Regulus as he rubbed sunscreen into Elliot’s skin. You held onto Elliot’s hand, he was squeezing the life out of it. Elliot hated the texture of sunscreen but he liked playing in the water more than sitting in the shade. He just needed a little bit of comfort through it and he was okay. After Regulus was done Elliot moved into your arms for more comfort. You hummed, squeezing him tight. You rocked him gently, giving him all the praises he needed. Elliot eventually pulled back, leaving his shoes next to his friends’ and joining them in the water. You smiled at him splashing with his friends, the three of them flinging water at James, who pretended to die and crash into the water.

You turned back to Regulus, happy you were all together. Regulus was staring at you with a deadly serious look in his eyes. His palms were pointed towards you, you glanced down at them. Your smile slightly fell when you realized they were coated in sunscreen.

“Oh Regulus, I actually put some on at ho-“ Regulus shut you up by smothering your face with his hands. He removed them, smearing his hands down your arms. You sputtered, he avoided your eyes and mouth shockingly. Regulus returned his hands to your face, now gently rubbing it into your face. You understood now why this flustered James. Regulus had both hands on your face treating your skin with such love, making sure you were fully protected. He eventually sat back, adding more to his hands before looking up at you.

“Can I do the rest or do you want to?” You shrugged.

“I’m cool with whatever you want, babe.” Regulus sighed. He hated when people made him make decisions.

“I'll do most.” You hummed in approval. He rubbed sunscreen into most of your skin, handing you the bottle to finish. When you were done you squeezed some of Regulus’ sunscreen into your hands, facing him with the same severity. He looked up from rubbing some into his arms. He raised an eyebrow at you.

“I'll get your back, baby.” Regulus squinted his eyes at you. You grinned.

“Are you trying to steal my job?” You shook your head moving to sit behind him. You applying sunscreen devolved into you just rubbing the tension out of his shoulders. Regulus dropped his head back against you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, lightly pecking his cheek on the way. You both watched as James picked Harry up by his ankles, wrapping his arms around Harry’s legs, and swinging him around. It made Harry giggle loudly, squealing and swinging his arms around. James gently set Harry back on his feet, splashing all three of your kids with a large swing of his arms. James left the water, squeezing his shorts out. He slumped down into the sun lounge chair next to you that you claimed with your bag.

He pulled his arms under his head, sighing. You admired the way the sun warmed his skin. You were not checking him out you were just checking for sunburns. Regulus pressed a kiss to your arm, leaning out of your hold. James opened his eyes, looking over at you both.

“So I was thinking, maybe we go out to eat after this.” You hummed nodding your head.

“You pick, I hate making decisions,” Regulus muttered. You patted his shoulder.

“Parenting must be hard for you.” Regulus nodded at you. He looked up when he heard Luna scream. Harry was splashing her. Elliot was near them staring at the lost water shoe sitting at the edge of the shallow water.

“Elliot, leave the shoe alone.” You yelled over at him. His head shot up, caught. He stood up and pointed down at it.

“Rena, it has no brother. Where’s the owner?” You shrugged at him.

“I don’t know, baby. Leave it alone, you don’t know what somebody could’ve stepped in.” Elliot pouted at you. Your yelling caught the attention of the other two. They stood around the lost shoe staring down at it. You stood up, joining them so now all four of you were standing around this lost shoe and inspecting it. You told them not to touch it running over to the nearby snowcone stand asking for napkins. You picked the shoe up with a napkin. The three children follow you to the trashcan. You set it on top in case the owner came back, and looked for it. You tossed the napkins into the trashcan, turning around to your little huddle of kids.

“Why can you touch it but we can’t?” Luna asked, staring up at you.

“I had napkins, and I’m an adult so I can make my own decisions about my health.” Luna pouted at your answer.

“That’s unjust,” Luna muttered under her breath.

“Can we have napkins?” Harry asked. You shook your head. Elliot scoffed.

“This sucks, you took away my shoe.” You dropped your shoulders.

“I’m sorry hun but you can’t have that shoe. it’s not for you.” You looked around the huddle to make sure they all understood. Luna pushed her wet hair away from her face. Elliot turned around and left, the other two following after him. When you returned to James and Regulus, you noticed how much Luna was fighting with her hair. It kept sticking to her face and annoying her. Her eyebrows were pushed together and she looked close to drowning her mermaid doll.

“Regulus, could I put Luna’s hair up? It keeps getting in her face.” Regulus shrugged. He reached over to his bag, pulling two hairbands off a key chain and handing them to you. You asked Luna if she wanted her hair up. She said yes and settled in front of you on the chair. You had James run to the snowcone stand and ask for a cup of water. You made sure her hair was damp, so you wouldn’t hurt it. You gently pulled her hair up into a ponytail, using the hair ties Regulus gave you to hold it. You patted her arms when you were done. Luna turned around and gave you a tight hug.

After another hour of the kids and James being rowdy, you were all tired. You stayed true to your word, drying Luna off with her towel while Regulus packed up his bag. With everyone buckled in the car, James started towards whatever food place he picked. The ride back from the waterpark was much calmer and quieter than the ride to. The kids were tired, you were tired, the car was tired. You glanced over at Regulus when you heard him mutter something. You noticed James’ hand resting on Regulus’ thigh. You smiled at that, glad you were all close. James smiled brightly at Regulus, making the car heat up with his joy.

“Well thank you, I like your swimsuit too.” You glanced at the backseat making sure all three kids were asleep.

“Oh, that’s why you invited us to the waterpark. To see me and Regulus half naked. I get it now.” James looked at you through the rearview mirror.

“No, I wanted you guys to have fun, don't soil my good name like that,” James said, giving you a playful glare. Regulus ignored you both, resting his head against his arm on the door. You noticed James’ thumb swiping back and forth in a soothing manner. You smiled at him before returning your attention out the window.

Eventually, you were gently rocking the kids’ knees so they would wake up. When they realized they had the prospect of chicken strips and french fries, they were scrambling out of their seats. You were sat at a round booth. It was more of a fast food than a restaurant place so your wet swimsuit coverups weren’t really a problem. You helped Elliot pick out his meal as James helped Harry. Luna apparently already knew what she wanted, busying herself with the sugar packets.

Your food arrived and you cut up Harry’s chicken strips while James caught you and Regulus up with what was going on with him. You slid Harry’s plate back to him. Elliot handed you the small bowl of ketchup like it was going to bite him.

“Nasty, Rena. I don't want it.” You nodded, taking it away. You set it between you and James so Elliot wouldn’t have to look at it.

“Oh thank you.” James dunked one of his fries into the bowl. You weren’t going to correct him and tell him you didn’t do that on purpose so you just smiled. You checked on Elliot, seeing him chomp into his chicken strips, tearing it away. He rawred before chewing properly. You put together that he was probably pretending to be a dinosaur. His favorite was a velociraptor. He liked that they looked like ‘stupid chickens’. You glanced over at Luna. She was chowing down on her burger. She ordered for herself. She did a great job too. Luna was very well-spoken, she seemed to have a big vocabulary. It probably had something to do with living with a writer. Especially a writer like Regulus.

You tore off a corner from your paper napkin. You rolled it into a ball before chucking it at Regulus. It hit him square in the forehead. Regulus set his fork down, looking down at the paper ball in his lap. He looked up at you and James both smothering your laughter. He reached over and covered Harry’s eyes before flipping you off. Elliot was luckily under the table getting his crayon off the floor. James dropped his fry. Regulus picked up his fork taking a proud bite out of his own fry. You ignored the fact he was eating fries with his fork and that he passed it to Luna.

“What about Luna?” James asked. Regulus removed his hand from Harry. Harry glared at Regulus before picking up another chicken strip.

“Oh, I already sawed that. Uncle B said it means I love you but Uncle Rosie told me the truth. Uncle B likes partial jokes.” Luna said, matter of factly. She kept her eyes on her burger before taking a bite. Regulus nodded at her.

“Practical, not partial. You used the phrase practical jokes correctly though. Good job, Lue.” Luna smiled with her cheeks full at Regulus. You understood why her vocab was so big now, it was Regulus. Elliot rawred again, making three claws with his fingers to pick up his chicken strips.

You were all strapped into James’ minivan and on the way back home, in no time. The kids were entertaining each other in the backseat. James had his playlist softly playing in the background.

“We should get together just us,” James said. Regulus looked away from his window raising an eyebrow at him.

”Is that not what we just did?” Regulus asked. James shook his head.

“No I mean like we should go on a for real date, not a playdate that we happen to flirt in the background. We go out just the three of us. Maybe not the waterpark though.” James explained, keeping his eyes on the road.

“I want to but it’s kinda hard getting a babysitter.” You said, looking between them. Regulus turned around to make eye contact with you.

“Elliot could spend the night at my house, I have like a thousand free babysitters,” Regulus said, waving his hand through the air.

“What will Uncle B teach my kind how to say fuck in every language?” You teased. Regulus pressed his lips togehter.

”He’s actually not that bad, he’s really good with kids. He just also has an odd sense of humor.” you squinted at Regulus. ” It's alright if you don't want him to babysit I can have Evan and Dorcas babysit. Evan is just as insane as Barty but he lowers it while around children. Barty doesn’t. Docas is super cool, she’ll probably teach Elliot how to sword fight with wrapping paper tubes.”

“Docas does sound sick.” You muttered. James cheered.

“See we can go out for real, Regulus you do the planning this time.” Regulus nodded at James.

“I actually really like planning, I wish I had my joural. I would’ve taken notes.” Regulus sadly muttered. Once you were back home, Elliot passed out on the couch. You smiled at him clutching his car to his chest. You were excited for Regulus to call you and start his planning process.