#really went wild with those run on sentences I’m out of control | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

djarinsbeskar · 3 years

Text

PREQUEL ARC: PART 3 - THE BOUNTY

A/N: Part 3 of Stitches has arrived! This chapter was difficult to write, I'll be honest. And I'd really appreciate any feedback if it doesn't read as well as the first two chapters or doesn't make sense or is boring etc. etc.

This is the penultimate prologue chapter, with the story very much shifting to surround the dynamic and growth of the readers relationship with Din so if you can hold out for me just a bit longer, I promise, I'll make it worth the wait. You know what I'm talking about friends.

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: None

Summary: You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

9 ABY, on the Hydian Way.

Din prided himself on the strength of his principles. An unwavering certainty in everything he did that gave him a modicum of peace as he wandered throughout the galaxy amidst wars, rebellions and the chaos that ensued in their aftermath.

He was certain when he took the Creed, when he sacrificed a future for himself in service of the covert; something he had never regretted to this day. He had never regretted any bounty taken; unmoved by pleas, promises or threats. Neither tears nor anger could sway his resolve.

Truly, he could count on one hand the things he regretted in life; the job on Alzoc III, challenging a fully grown Mandalorian to a fight while still a hot blooded, angry teenager, and not trying to pull his parents into the bunker where they had hidden him from Separatist droids as Aq Vertina was invaded.

In his line of work, there was seldom room for self-doubt. Inner conflict led to hesitation, which could be a death sentence for a bounty hunter.

And yet, as he came out of hyperspace, that unfamiliar gnawing presence in the pit of his stomach began to rear its’ head again. The job he had accepted was… dubious, to say the least.

Din snorted in self-deprecation; most of his jobs were dubious in nature.

What brought on this unnatural doubt, however, was that this was a job for Imperial remnants. Din wasn’t a fool; he knew half the jobs he had taken in the past could have been traced to the Imps if he cared enough to look, but taking a job from them personally… well, he didn’t know how to feel about that just yet.

He pondered the feeling in his stomach again and frowned. Was it doubt… or instinct? Instinct was his most trusted companion as he travelled through space alone. A tickle at the back of his neck, a wary step forward, even a flash of electricity down his spine; those were only some of the ways that instinct spoke to him. And he always listened.

An uncomfortable feeling in his stomach though? Never that.

If it was instinct, then he was going against his very nature in ignoring it. If it was doubt, based on some misguided sense of morality in dealing with the empire… that he could deal with. He could smother doubt with control and consistency; going through the motions of a job brought security and familiarity. Sooner or later, that doubt would make way for a stoic acceptance, a state that had gotten Din through some of his roughest years.

His eyes were drawn to his shoulder, where the glint of newly crafted beskar shone in the gentle lights of the cockpit.

A down-payment…

“Makers Helmet…” he groaned, running a gloved thumb and forefinger across his tired eyes to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on as the pressure at the back of his skull increased due to the loop his thoughts were going in.

A job was a job. He circled back to his original thought that had led him to accept the clients offer. A job with a bounty greater than anything he could have ever hoped to receive in his lifetime, let alone in one go. It was mere sentimentality and conscience getting in the way of good business. That beskar could not only provide him with armor to reaffirm his loyalty to the covert, but assistance and support to the foundlings and those who raised them.

His resolved steeled. He had never regretted putting the covert before himself, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Turning his attention back to the navicomputer, he scanned the co-ordinates that his most recent lead had pointed to. He had hunted the trail of his latest bounty to the general direction of a vast area of space that straddled the outer reaches of the Outer Rim and halted as it reached Wild Space. There was nothing to stop the bounty from being in those unexplored parts of the galaxy, and if the tracking beacon led him that far, he would have to be ready. With no spaceport on any of the planets he had seen dotting the area on the navicomputer, he thought it wise to refuel and gather provisions should he be there for any prolonged period.

As he lazily assessed which planet to land on, his eyes were drawn to a familiar name. A memory brushed against his thoughts. Not necessarily a pleasant one, but not entirely unpleasant either. For the sake of fairness, Din scanned the planets surrounding the one he pondered; some were equally as well equipped for his needs but the majority he had not been on in years if ever. Somewhere he knew, even briefly, gave him more comfort than the unknown.

At least, that was what Din told himself as he punched in the co-ordinates of Dandoran, the flicker of warmth the memory brought him was something equally as unnatural as the doubt coiled in his stomach.

Bantha balls, maybe he had been poisoned again...

Din tossed a few credits to the human female who received the Razor Crest into the hanger she was managing.

“She needs to be refueled.” Was all he said as he made his way out of the hanger and into the not unfamiliar streets of Mynock. It didn’t look like much had changed in the several months since he was here last; the place was still crawling with a mixture of criminals, bounty hunters and people who just didn’t want to be found. All in all, a good example of most Outer Rim cities.

Mynock had two main pedestrian streets that ran for over two klicks and intersected at the middle. From what he could tell, all legitimate business ran from those two streets, the further into the alleyways and twisted lanes that branched off those two streets one ventured, the seedier the business.

From what he knew, the practice you worked at was on one of these main streets. He paused, causing a few disgruntled pedestrians to have to jerk to a halt and make their way around his imposing frame. He was not here socially. He was never anywhere socially. He shook his head; between self-doubt and sentimentality, the tight leash he usually kept himself on was looser than he remembered and he had no idea just when it had started to slack.

That could not continue. But being aware of a problem allowed him to deal with it. So, with a greater sense of fortitude, he mentally choked any distracting feelings beyond the determination to collect this bounty. That included the somewhat interesting possibility of seeing you again.

Thankfully, Din only needed to stick to the main streets. The road was flanked by stall upon stall of foodstuffs, clothing, trinkets, ammunition and what looked to be a husbandry of Massiff dogs. The large, reflective eyes turned to the Mandalorian; all bared fangs and hostile snarls. An understandable response by most non-sentients when a Mandalorian had no real physical cues they could read, being as covered as they were. Until he lifted his hand for the one closest to sniff, they could only assume he was a threat.

A sniff was usually all it took however, before the snarling stopped. Din brushed a hand over the scaly head as he continued on his way to collect what he came here for.

An hour later, and Din was feeling much more at ease as he picked up the last of the supplies he thought he may need; ration packs, bactapads, generic ammunition that he liked to keep well stocked on the ship and so on. He was once more mentally compiling the information he had gathered on the location of the bounty, running through various routes in his mind that would cover the most planets in the parsec in the shortest amount of time.

He nodded his thanks at the change the Rhodian merchant returned to him and began to make his way back to the Razor Crest. If it hadn’t been for the long flick of your hair in the tie you kept it up in when you turned your head to look at someone at a stall across the central walkway of the street, Din was certain he’d have walked on none the wiser. But alas, that same higher power that had gifted him with a keep perception of his surroundings cursed him in the same fell swoop as the movement attracted his attention.

He came up short, running a mental check on himself immediately. No, no injuries. His shoulder still ached on occasion from being dislocated six months earlier, but it was a phantom pain at most these days. He was fit as a mythosaur and he wasn’t about to have that good streak ruined by getting injured in your presence… again.

Din wondered if he could escape to his ship without you noticing; he didn’t want to tempt fate anymore than he already had. Plus, awkward interactions that left him feeling frustrated both mentally and physically were not high on the list of things he enjoyed, thank you very much.

As a Mandalorian, Din expected attention wherever he went. It was just something he chalked down to being a necessary evil to live by his Creed but he had never wanted to be more invisible than he did in that moment, thinking that at any moment he would be trip into a sarlacc pit or something equally unpleasant.

But you hadn’t seen him, thankfully; much more invested in the choices at the fishmonger’s stall.

Despite his better judgement however, he paused from slipping back to his ship silently.

He was taken by the slight pink flush that rose to your cheeks at something the woman behind the stall said, intrigued by the color and what caused it. Din tilted his head slightly. He had noticed you getting flushed in frustration or annoyance both times you had treated him. It was fascinating to see your cheeks flush for a reason other than irritation and anger.

That particular thought touched a dangerous part of Din’s mind, a part that made him wander into the realm of curiosity to ponder what else might make you blush like that.

Oh, but it was a delightful color on you, and he watched longer than he ought to, a small quirk lifting the corner of his lips. The image of domesticity as you adjusted the parcels of food already in your arms to accept the fish was so foreign to his eyes and certainly not one he ever associated with you until now. It spoke to a part of him that still slumbered but began to fidget in its sleep, on the verge of consciousness.

That tentative smile that he had unwittingly been giving into as he indulged his senses by watching you, dropped the moment three males approached you. The Twi’lek was standing too close for you to be comfortable and by the rigidity of your spine, he knew you were not.

You had taken a step away from the men easily, your body language read cautious but not fearful and he knew better than to underestimate your abilities to wrangle men into whatever position you wanted them in. He had first-hand experience in that department and honestly, it wasn’t nearly as fun as it sounded in his head.

Din relaxed the grip he had unknowingly tightened on the blaster at his hip when you made to leave the stall, away from the three. He shook his head at himself; you had lived here for years. You knew how to handle yourself perfectly fine.

Letting out a breath, he was about to continue back to the ship when that same cursed perception caught the Twi’leks arm shoot out to grip your upper arm tightly, preventing your exit.

Din was behind you before he even realized he had moved.

You examined the range of fish on offer, eyes skeptically crossing off anything that looked like it had been sitting out too long or anything with more than four eyes. You weren’t squeamish by nature, but the fewer dead eyes that were staring at you while you prepared dinner, the better.

One of the few perks of Mynock, was its proximity to the Great Basin of Dandoran that opened out to one of the many oceans to cover the planet. Fresh seafood was a staple in the city and after years of ration packs between the Rebellion and Klatooine, eating fresh was a luxury you would never take for granted again. Your own home planet was mostly covered in water too; the greater population spread over countless clusters of islands where seafood was also the meal of choice for most. It was a tenuous connection but being able to cook dishes somewhat like the ones your mother made when you and your brothers were younger made it feel like you weren’t so far away.

You smiled to yourself at the thought as you pointed to the light blue colored Berbersian crabs, knowing the trawlers had come in only this morning that carried them. The claws were meaty with the slightest sweetness to their flavor that complimented most dishes. Not to mention that when cooked, they turned the most vibrant blue that their shells alone could be used for decoration and craft.

You chatted aimlessly with the fishmonger as she cleaned and prepared the translucent peachy pink fish you had also chosen for good measure.

“Busy at Biran’s?”

“When are we not busy?”

“It’s all them fights between the gangs. Folk say since the Hutts were chased out that things are better but it’s even more dangerous with the others tryin’ to take their place.”

You only gave a non-committal hum to that; you didn’t get involved in politics of any kind. Gang or otherwise.

The mindless chatter continued on nonetheless to more safe topics.

“Did I tell ye, Drea had her baby not three days ago. Another girl.”

“Poor Nej will have his hands full when they all get older.”

“I’m sure they’re dying for a boy at this point. Great excuse to keep sowin’ the crops though, ain’t it?”

“I’m sure they don’t need any excu—”

“Ever think of havin’ any of yer own? Yer well into that time of yer life, I’d say no?”

You blinked, nearly missing the bag of produce as she handed it across the stall to you. You could feel your face heat up at the direction this conversation had turned, and you definitely never thought you would be discussing your biological clock with a fishmonger over Berbersian crab.

“Well I---”

Movement from the corner of your eye stole your attention from that progressively awkward conversation and the no doubt insufficient answer you would have given as three males came to stand at the same stall, facing you. Your eyes scanned the trio sideways, not prepared to give them your attention unless it became unavoidable. There were two humans and a Twi’lek and given the way the humans flanked the large blue male; you had a fair idea about who was in charge as he sneered at you in what you assumed was meant to be a disarming smile.

The blasters at each of their hips and the emerald green coloring on the right sleeve of their jackets told you they belonged to one of the gangs the fishmonger had been complaining about not a few minutes earlier. This gang in particular, the Quai-Kisu or Emerald Dagger in Basic, were a faction that splintered off from the main Hutt crime syndicate once their influence in Dandoran lessened. Their trademark was spice smuggling but anyone with two braincells knew that they accepted the lesser charge to hide the true wealth of their criminal activity, flesh trafficking.

Suffice to say, you didn’t want anything to do with them and you most certainly didn’t want them to want anything to do with you.

“Can I help you?” You kept your eyes on them as you handed the fishmonger what you owed her when it was clear they weren’t going to leave; the woman wisely remaining quiet as she accepted the credits.

None of them responded immediately, and you wondered if this was a new scare tactic they were employing to make people anxious. The crimson hue of the Twi’leks eyes glinted as he contemplated you, running down your figure lazily before meeting your eyes again when you frowned,

“Ol’ man Biran available for a house call?” He rumbled, the sun catching the points of the filed canines as he spoke.

“I’m afraid Biran doesn’t make house calls anymore. Besides, he’s been under the weather for the last few days unfortunately.”

You reeled the lie off effortlessly, having learned over the years who Biran would tend to and who he would rather see succumb to whatever ailed them. It was a steep and difficult learning curve for you, your initial training taught you that you must do your utmost to save every life. Biran had laughed in derision, saying that that mindset wouldn’t serve you well out here. These were gangs, not the flyboys of Corellia. Saving one of their lives might condemn countless others. So while you struggled, you accepted that it was his practice and he made the rules and after over two years on Dandoran, you had seen enough victims of the gang warfare to not feel any pity when one of them suffered an injury.

“C’mon beautiful. One of our pals was injured in a… terrible, terrible accident.” The taller of the two human males, a lanky man with a neck that looked much too long and eyes that took way too much liberty in running over your body.

“There are other doctors in Mynock.” You replied steadily, “I’m sure one of them can help.”

To humor them any longer would be to encourage trouble, so you cut the conversation short and turned quite deliberately to make the point that the conversation was over, flashing the fishmonger a wan smile before turning back the way you came.

“We weren’t done talkin’ to you.”

Your eyes widened marginally when an iron grip closed around your upper arm, your free hand dropping the items in your arm immediately to click the safety off your blaster and lift it in the time it took for the Twi’lek to yank you into facing him again.

“Did I say you could lay a hand on me?” You hissed, the blaster pointing upward from where you held it close to your body towards the underside of the Twi’lek’s chin.

“Quite the little spitfire, ain’t she lads?” He crowed, amused by your action. His laughter was like shattered glass on your ears, making you want to wince, but you kept your hand steady even as your heart pounded. You received as much training as anyone when they joined the Rebellion, but your experience in actual combat beyond treating people on the front line was limited. You knew your own limitations, and that there was no way you would be able to take on all three of them.

The hand around your arm squeezed painfully and you clocked the blaster, lifting it closer to sit under the Twi’lek’s chin, “Release me. Now.”

And like most men of his ilk, he ignored you in favor of his own voice,

“From what we’ve seen, you work with the good doctor. Shouldn’t be a bother for you to fix him up. Nicer to look at too, eh fellas?” He tossed over his shoulder to the snickers of his lackeys.

“Then you can go back to target practice with your toy gun.” He chuckled darkly, leaning in where the pungent smell of his breath made you turn your head away in distaste, “That is, if we let you go at all.”

You swallowed thickly at the threat, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as your mind scrambled to come up with a solution, a way out, something. You felt the familiar sting of tears at the back of your eyes when each avenue came up blank. You couldn’t think of anything and suddenly, you felt so terribly alone in this shithole of a town on a faraway planet far from anyone who gave a bantha crap who would actually be able to help you.

Their laughter only grated on your already frayed nerves and pissed you off even more. You had fought too hard and suffered too much to let these assholes take the one thing you owned, your freedom. Your eyes flashed with anger and snapped back to the Twi’lek, ready to pull the trigger because if you were going out, it would be on your terms.

Their laughter suddenly ceased then, and you blinked. Had they copped that you planned to take at least one, maybe two of them out with you? Before you could figure it out, your arm was shoved away. You raised your now free hand to steady the blaster as you aimed it at them, but they were backing away, eyes averted.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You growled, hiding the waver in your voice.

They said nothing in reply as the Twi’lek bared his teeth and made towards you again. One of the humans grabbed his arm and hissed something to him. You couldn’t make it all out, but you swore you heard a name you never thought you’d hear again.

Teff.

With one last growl and glare, the Twi’lek conceded to the advice of the humans and all three of them melted back into the crowds of Mynock leaving you to release a heavy breath as you lowered your weapon, replacing the safety with ease as your eyes continued to scan the street. You wanted to be certain they had really left.

“Huh, maybe they were smart after all.” You muttered to yourself, proud that you had dealt with the situation somewhat and holstered your blaster against your hip again, “Still got it girl.” You commended yourself as you stooped to pick up your dropped groceries.

A snorted, “I beg to differ” had you blinking up over your shoulder at the familiar, cocksure figure of the Mandalorian; a hand only grazing the blaster at his hip as he stood casually behind you, his head tilted down to look at you and a resounding sigh leaving his helmet when you smiled.

“Mando?”

An incline of his head was the only greeting you received before he crossed his arms across the wise expanse of his armored chest.

“One sec.”

You got back to your feet and, as if by instinct, ran your eyes over his body, “You didn’t poison yourself again, did you?” You teased lightly, realizing that you were seeing him uninjured for the first time. Well, the second time. But walking into a cantina to do battle with a Houk didn’t could in your estimation.

It gave you pause to notice things about him that you didn’t usually; the way he stood, leaning his weight back on his left foot that gave him an air of lazy arrogance that wouldn’t be misplaced in a loth-wolf relaxing in the winter sun. The strength of his thighs seems to be accentuated by the posture; one hand placed securely at his blaster. If you didn’t know any better, his stance was like an open challenge to every male around him; submit or suffer. But you did know him somewhat, and you knew that he didn’t need to lay down any challenge. He had already won the second he stepped off his ship. The wide breadth of space given to him by passers-by only highlighted that fact.

Even with every patch of skin covered, you could feel the raw power rolling off of him, or was it testosterone? Whatever it was, it tugged at a more primal instinct and ignited a slow, steady heat inside of you that made you both embarrassed and intrigued.

Okay, so you were attracted to the way the man stood. That was fine, that was acceptable. You were a warm-blooded woman in her prime who knew her desires and embraced them. Finding how a Mandalorian… stood, was just another interesting thing to add to your list of things you found attractive.

Along with a raspy baritone and penchant for trouble…

You know what, it was probably just a fantastic indication that you hadn’t been laid in a while, so you made a mental note to deal with that particular issue later.

“I never poisoned myself.” That same low, gruff voice rose to your bait so easily and you had to bite your lip not to laugh, his hand fisting at his side before he unclenched it. Probably thinking about strangling you, honestly. Now there was a thought, for later. Nope, it was definitely the recent dry spell that had you like this. And the sun. The sun always had a part to play in these delusions.

Mando seemed to figure out your game of teasing him however, when you couldn’t fully mask your smile and responded in kind,

“You’re welcome, by the way.” His voice rumbled and you were certain that if you were only a few inches closer, you would be able to feel the vibrations brush against you.

“For what?” You laughed in disbelief, “I had everything under control before you decided to strut into the fray.”

You tried to prevent the frown from creasing between your brows when you thought a little more on the situation. You had a blaster literally pointed to the neck of one of those thugs and they didn’t care. It didn’t even seem like Mando had drawn his weapon and all three had scarpered? Was there any fairness in the galaxy? Obviously not.

The unpainted helmet tilted, the impassive T-visor giving away nothing of its wearers feelings beyond the sigh that left him, “What did you plan to do? Shoot the son of a mudscuffer and have an entire gang out for blood in less than an hour? Yeah, that’s smart.” He snorted.

Your mouth fell open in incredulity, “Talk about the Jawa calling the Ewok short, you’d have done the exact same thing!” You cursed your short temper, especially when it came to the stubborn mule of a man in front of you. The fact that his voice never once rose frustrated you. It remained gravelly but soft, like the sound of pebbles and stones being pushed and pulled by the ocean you could hear from your bedroom as a child.

You were a mature person; you were proud of how you dealt with most things. But in this instance, you allowed your immature side to rear her head momentarily as you began to stalk back to the practice. A piss poor option since the Mandalorian scoffed and kept up with you easily, obviously not content with you having the last word.

“But I wouldn’t be so reckless to not think it through before shooting them.” He tipped his helmet back a little, as if he dared to look down his nose at you. Frustration simmered in your blood as your eyes narrowed at him sideways.

“I was wrong, you obviously are injured. A blow to the head this time was it, Mando? Must be hidden under that kettle you call a helmet” You let out an exasperated breath, shaking your head, “I’ve no cure for that unfortunately.”

You could have sworn you heard a soft noise that sounded remarkably like a chuckle, but it was so quiet and the streets so noisy that you were certain you were wrong.

When the door to the practice-come-living quarters for yourself and Biran came into view, you stopped short. How did you get back here so quickly? Looking over your shoulder, you realized you had led the Mandalorian on a merry chase to nowhere he needed to be. He didn’t look particularly fazed, but the small voice of guilt that sounded an awful lot like your mother had you opening your mouth before you could think twice,

“Do you want to come in?”

What possessed you to invite him in?

It was obvious from both the stilted way you asked and the drawn out, deeply awkward silence that followed. You were about to tuck tail and run inside, slam the door, and pretend you weren’t as mortified as you knew you were when he cocked his head. The movement made you pause in your escape, opening your mouth to tell him to forget about it before the words got lodged in your throat.

“Sure.” Was all he said, and that was how you found yourself staring at a fully armed Mandalorian taking up two thirds of the small settee in the living room to the back of the practice, his hands placed on each thigh as they spread a bit when he sat.

Biran, bless him, took up the last third of the same settee, unfazed by the type of man in his living room and chatting merrily about the last Mandalorian he had met over fifteen years ago.

“And that wasn’t you?”

“No.”

“Ah maybe someone you know then!”

“Maybe.”

Mando’s conversation skills were abysmal.

You didn’t have very high expectations in the first place, but watching it without being a participant, was downright comical. You hid your smile behind the glass of water you had fetched for yourself but the slight tilt of his helmet in your direction told you he had caught your amusement. For someone whose face you couldn’t see, you could practically feel his eyes narrow at you. It made the giddiness from being equal parts anxious and entertained from watching Mando try make nice with the elderly Mirialan rise again and you had to physically bite your lip to stop.

Mando wasn’t listening to Biran anymore, that much was obvious. He wasn’t even looking in his direction, more comfortable blatantly glaring at you instead. Biran was unfazed. Truly, the Mirialan didn’t need a response to have a conversation. A listening ear was sometimes all he wanted. It was a characteristic that endeared you to the him in the first place. The elderly were so often overlooked and written off, but when one only cared enough to listen, they would find themselves enriched with experiences no history book could ever compete with.

“…So how do you two know each other?”

Your attention was dragged back into the conversation so fast you might have given yourself whiplash. You blinked a few times as the Mirialan watched Mando with a clueless smile on his face, completely ignorant to the stiff body beside him.

“Coercive medical attention.” You choked a bit on the sip of water you had taken to buy yourself some time to think; coercive? That rotten---

“Ah, you were a difficult patient, were you?” Biran chuckled, knowing your methods well, “Sweet as pie if you do as your told, but the minute you resist she’ll go for you like a sand panther. I can’t imagine there was much room for bedside manners in the Rebellion, but thankfully that attitude works well in cities like Mynock.” You spluttered again, putting the glass down since it was out to get you too apparently.

Of all the treacherous--, why were you so nice to this old sod again? You would show him a sand panther when you ‘forget’ to buy his favorite tea next time you went shopping.

You seethed to yourself, leaning back in the armchair you had perched yourself on earlier, flyaway hairs from the breeze outside falling into your face which you blew away with a frustrated breath.

“Hm, a panther?” Your eyes rose as the low baritone filled the air after Biran had finished having his laugh at your expense. Mando cocked his head pensively to the side as he looked at you briefly, “More like a kitten, I’d say.” And with that, he looked away.

He didn’t bother saying anything else after that, content with letting Biran’s laughter fill the room and smother the tense silence the two of you were sitting in.

You could feel your cheeks heating up once more as you glared daggers at the tin can in front of you. Why did it feel like you were being simultaneously insulted and flirted with? You couldn’t make the distinction, so you didn’t know how to respond.

Instead, you decided to poke at a different part of the conversation.

“For someone who was coerced, you sure do find yourself on my table quick enough when you need treatment.” Your eyes ran up and down the length of his body candidly when he looked back at you, “and when you don’t need treatment, evidently.”

You smirked when the Mandalorian clenched a fist on his thigh, the third occupant in the room seemingly forgotten as Mando hissed,

“I never asked for your help.”

You scoffed and decided not to deign that with a response.

“Besides, I only stopped over for supplies and fuel.” He admitted and a treacherous part of you sunk a bit at the honesty in his voice. Seeing you was just a coincidence, like always. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air and you fought the twinge of sadness that chased you because of them.

Biran looked between the two of you before standing shakily and patting the Mandalorian on the shoulder with no hesitation, “Allow us to provide you with something extra for your travels then.” He turned his wrinkled face towards you with a smile, the deep groves of his crow’s feet increasing as he nodded to the bags of forgotten groceries, “I think our guest should try the crab. Knowing you, you bought too much as usual.”

You flushed at being caught out, were you really that predicable?

“There’s no need. I got what I came for so, I’ll be going now.” Mando stood fluidly despite his armor, and you were once again struck with how different it was seeing him injured as opposed to healthy. You felt you needed to get used to his presence all over again, with how much it filled the room.

“Thank you, for your hospitality.” He tipped his helmet towards Biran, his voice still rather gruff but laced with a polite softness uncharacteristic to him. Biran waved him off and started making his way back out to the practice when he heard the binary from his medi-droid welcoming a new patient.

That left the two of you standing in a room that suddenly felt much too small for the tension that hung around you both like a blanket. You moved into the kitchen to separate the food you would keep and the food you would give to Mando on one of the countertops, tying the bag tightly by the straps so that it stayed clean and fresh when you were done. You couldn’t hear him move, but you could feel the slight disturbance of the air when he leaned his shoulder casually against the doorframe, arms crossed enticingly once more as he watched you.

“So… what did he call you again? A sand… kitten, was it?”

“Oh, shut up.” You growled over your shoulder at him before turning and shoving the bag with two of the Berbersian crabs and some herbs you knew went well with them, into his hands.

“I don’t need these.” He held the bag out, straightening his stance as he pushed himself from the doorframe. You wisely ignored him.

“All you need is a pan. And water. And heat. Boil them and actually give your body some proper nutrients, would you?”

You explained as you began leading him out towards the private entrance of the residence, through the small kitchen and out into an alleyway that gave you an immediate sense of déjà vu the moment Mando stepped outside. The sun was still beating down and it glinted across the helmet that was becoming as recognizable as a face to you.

“In case you didn’t realize, I’m perfectly healthy.” He replied smoothly, getting his bearings as he examined the alleyway and noted the sounds from the nearby street as the direction he needed to go.

“That’d be a first.” You griped at him, but there was no venom in your words, and he knew it.

You knew he was about to leave, and the suddenness of his departure was as jarring as his arrival. You didn’t know why you felt the need to stall, and you pushed that urge down rapidly in the face of the warrior when he looked back at you from assessing the street not a few feet away.

You sighed and let out a chuckle, wondering again how this man constantly came barreling into your life, disrupting the precarious peace you had brokered while here. You might have said it was a nuisance, but deep down, you knew that he brought a breath of life back into yours every time he crossed your path, reinvigorated the aimless routine you found yourself in. It was unsettling, the way this man had wormed his way into being such a… significant presence in your life. Even after only meeting him three times and always under less than pleasant circumstances.

Part of you wanted to tell him he could stay longer if he wanted; but you knew he would refuse.

Part of you wanted to tell him to be safe; but you knew he wouldn’t be.

Part of you wanted to tell him that you would see him around; but you knew that you probably wouldn’t.

So you settled on a lackluster, “good luck on your hunt” with a small smile as a peace offering for the fraught bickering you always seemed to fall into with him. A peace offering, he seemed to accept as he lifted the bag silently and looked inside,

“Pan. Water. Heat. Right?” His own attempt made your smile grow as you chuckled and nodded,

“You got it, sunshine.”

He nodded once in affirmation while you moved around him back towards the door of the practice. For some reason, you didn’t want to watch him walk away this time. It was easier for you to leave instead. A rumble of your name from the Mandalorian had you looking over your shoulder at him questioningly, the blush that had risen to your cheeks at the sound of your name on his lips not lost on Mando. He had turned back towards you when you moved and after a beat, spoke again.

“See you next time.”

And just like that, your chest hollowed, and a warmth filled you. The weight of his words were like an embrace, a reassurance you didn’t know you needed. Had needed, for longer than you probably knew. It was something secure and encouraging in these times of change and uncertainty, and you felt yourself cling to those words like a lifeline.

The placid nod you offered him with a gentle smile was all he stuck around for. Spinning on his heels, he took off towards the streets of Mynock once more, disappearing in a flash of beskar and steel and for once, you didn’t ponder about possibly seeing him again. You knew you would.

Din settled back into the pilots’ chair of the Razor Crest twenty minutes later, running through the familiar process of flying the ship out of the atmosphere and into the comfort of space, eager to escape into hyperdrive as soon as he was clear enough from Dandoran.

See you next time?

He groaned leaned his head back against the chair, staring up at the ceiling of the cockpit, his brows drawn low over his eyes as he frowned. What possessed him to offer that promise, he didn’t know. Maybe it was the way your eyes had dimmed slightly when he was about to leave, or when you had wished him luck on a job he was still so uncertain about. Maybe it was the way you blushed when he said your name.

Or maybe it was just because he wanted to see you again too.

And that was the most troubling reason of all.

Din didn’t do friends, he had acquaintances and colleagues even if the term was tenuous. He had the covert and the foundlings, but he didn’t have people he actually wished to see. Never trusted anyone beyond what they could each offer one another. You hadn’t looked for anything from him, and it was unsettling. He didn’t know if he could trust you, years of training and experience told him otherwise. But from the old memories of you pressing Raquor’daan poison from his wound to the teasing friendship you displayed with the old Mirialan, his resolve softened a little.

His eyes flicked to the rapidly shrinking planet he was leaving.

Trust was too strong a word right now, but respect… he could admit that he respected you. And that alone put you on a very short list of people, one he was sure you would never truly understand the importance of.

And he was right.

You would never know the significance of being on that very short list of people, but in that moment, Din’s grudging respect for you set both of your lives on a very different course than either of you ever anticipated; one that revolved around a very special, very small, green child.

Once Dandoran had faded sufficiently behind the Razor Crest, he keyed in the co-ordinates to the far reaches of the Outer Rim and entered hyperspace and after several days of travel, he finally struck beskar when the tracking fob starting beeping as he coasted through space. He smirked behind his helmet as he changed direction and noted the closest planet on his navicomputer where his bounty was hidden.

Arvala-7.

Gotcha.

Stitches Taglist:

@geannad @ayamenimthiriel @sarahjkl82-blog @gracie7209 @nova646 @pychedelic-rainbow

#the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fic #din djarin #mando x reader #mando fic #mando x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #mando #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic

525 notes · View notes

snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales · 3 years

Text

Blue Moon - Part 1

A/N: See masterlist for prompts used. (And the list of amazing people who have helped me with this.)

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Warnings: See Masterlist

Word count: 2,746

Xxx

“So what’s it like living with a Hale?” Stiles asked, turning away from your locker after you shut it. Both of you fell into step with Scott as you made your way to your next class.

You must have grimaced or made some face with a slight slant of your eyebrows only a Stilinski could read, because Stiles let out a snort. “That bad?”

You shrugged, sighing. “I mean, it’s not like I expected it to be a walk in the park, it is Derek Hale after all.” Scott chuckled with a gentle shake of his head, making you smile before you continued. “But I didn’t expect it to be this…. easy….. either.”

“Easy?” Scott questioned, making the same face you must have initially as Stiles let out another snort of laughter.

“Yeah, I mean, the first few days were awkward. If we weren’t training we weren’t doing anything. The man is silent, had no TV, or any of that-”

“Wait, ‘had’?” Stiles held out his hand, effectively cutting off your sentence and your steps, your shoes screeching on the floor at the sudden stop.

“Yes, had. He now has a TV, streaming services- yes, Stiles, services as in plural, if you keep your eyebrows that high they may stick that way, and it’s not the best look for you…”

“So at least there is something to fill the silence at least.” Scott resumed walking, you followed a few steps behind, Stiles lagging, jaw still dropped in shock.

“Well, yeah,” you agreed with Scott, and this time you felt your eyebrows making the face.

“But….?” Scott’s prodding was gentle, but his face held a smirk.

“But somewhere along the way we went from off handed comments during a news broadcast, or some show we were watching, to actually pausing it to have some discussion, or referencing some situation later and asking if the other had had something similar happen, or just opening up about random experiences and stuff. It’s…”

“Weird?” This time Stiles prodded, earning a glare and gentle whack on the arm from Scott.

“Well, maybe it’s because you’re…. new.” Scott opted for a more discrete word for ‘werewolf’ in the crowded hallways. “He may feel like opening up more because of the pack mentality and all.”

“No, it’s not because she’s…. new.” Stiles raised one eyebrow on the word as he addressed Scott, earning a sigh and eye roll from the young Beta. “The man is a brooding wall of leather and growls.” You chuckled at the description, making Stiles grin. “I think we finally found our miracle cure for our Sourwolf!”

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up.” You held up your hands as if to physically stop their words. “What?”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. We know you two like each other. It’s so obvious.” Stiles immediately closed his mouth, his lips a tight line, eyes wide and eyebrows in his hairline in his signature “I was not supposed to say that” face.

“What?” you deadpanned to your friend.

The bell rang, and Scott, wide eyed and smiling too broadly, gave Stiles a shove on the shoulder in the opposite direction of your next class as Stiles muttered, “Oh, look. The bell.” They both began to walk quickly the opposite way.

“Guys!” you yelled. “This is not over! But I am not responsible for you guys missing another class, what does that make, like fifteen already this semester?”

Your two friends stilled and turned on their heels, ushering past you quickly, avoiding your glare, Stiles looking at Scott and muttering, “See, Scott? I told you our class with Miss Blake was this way.”

“Ugh,” you mumbled under your breath. The sour expression stayed on your face even after you sat at your desk in the back of the class.

Chuckling, Stiles chanced a glance your way from beside you, hoping to change the subject from his ultimate fail in the hallway. “You still don’t like her?”

“I still don’t like her.” You overlapped his last few words, matching his gentle nod with one of your own as you stared straight ahead at the teacher’s still vacant desk.

“What is it about her you don’t like?”

“I just have a really bad feeling whenever I see her. Something just isn’t right.”

Scott chuckled, opening his book to the proper page. “You’re just mad that she gives you a little bit of a harder time.”

“You mean she gives me ‘more attention’?” you asked, your words rising to a ridiculous octave as they repeated Jennifer’s words she had used when she assigned you some extra credit to help raise your grade so you could stay on the lacrosse team. Your friends chuckled at your words. “I’m sorry, not everyone can be amazing at everything, being a wer-” you stopped yourself, clearing your throat before continuing- “new-” you looked at Scott pointedly, earning you a glare and Stiles’ laughter on your other side- “doesn’t allow for a whole lot of extra studying time.”

“Oh, come on, Y/N. I know you feel that way now, but it will pass,” Scott said with a smile as Miss Blake walked in, setting things on her desk, and he chuckled as you glared at her. “This is all ephemeral.”

You looked at Stiles, your face blank, voice a deadpan. “You ever buy him a word of the day subscription thing again, and I will rip your throat out.” You flickered your yellow eyes at him discreetly. “With my teeth.”

“With your teeth,” Stiles mumbled, overlapping your words, both of you nodding in agreement again. “I asked what it’s like living with a Hale, and now I got my answer.” He looked at you, shaking his head mockingly. “You’re becoming one of them. It’s contagious. We’ll call it ‘Sourwolf Syndrome’.”

Xxx

Due to your parents’ professions taking them all over the place constantly, like Allison, you were actually a year older than your friends, having to repeat a year a few grades back. But you wouldn’t change it for anything, because that’s how you met your best friends.

It helped that your parents were away on business most of the time, so no one questioned your staying at Derek’s loft for so long. You stopped by every few days to get the mail and check on the plants around the house, packing some new clothes if needed, Derek sitting outside in his car the first few times, but lately he had taken to coming in and helping you do the few things you had to do.

You told yourself it was just because of the increased threat that he wanted to be closer to his newest Beta. He didn’t have too many of those these days, you thought bitterly, smirking to yourself. You stared blankly as you rinsed out your coffee cup in the sink, and a wave of sadness washed over you as you thought of Erica, her absence still fresh and raw. The two of you had never really been close; just acquaintances at school, then pack members briefly, before she was gone.

Boyd had really withdrawn himself after that, and you didn’t blame him. You knew he probably felt how you did times ten. When Cora had been here briefly she mentioned losing a pack member was like losing a limb, and she hadn’t been wrong.

Then Derek had kicked both Cora and Isaac out of the loft, claiming it wasn’t safe with the Alpha Pack around. Isaac was staying with Scott, but you didn’t know where Cora had disappeared to. Peter was a wild card, so you didn’t even try to factor him in, and Scott outright refused to be a member of Derek’s pack. He was an Alpha with Beta eyes, and an enigma for another time.

The point was, Derek was running low in the Beta department lately.

The only reason Derek had you staying at the loft and followed you around the house when you had to go was because you were the newest, or so he said. Deep down you knew he just didn’t want to be responsible if something happened to you. He wanted to control the situation as much as possible which, you guessed, you were kind of glad, being new to this whole werewolf thing, and admittedly not wanting to stay home alone again, human or werewolf.

At least at the loft, even in the times before Derek brought home the TV and stuff, the silence had been comfortable. You’d never admit it to anyone, but just being in the presence of another living, breathing being, even one as brooding and somewhat annoying as Derek Hale, was nice.

And you sure as hell weren’t going to think about how he had helped you with your homework sometimes, especially with that English extra credit. He had a side he didn’t share often, and you were glad you got to see it. It was like a rare spotting of a mythological creature.

You smiled to yourself, watching the water in the cup filling clear now, the mug long clean, and you let your feelings wash away down the drain with the water as you turned it off.

Setting the mug in the sink, you took a deep breath, letting the feelings whirling around you fully roll off your back, rolling your shoulders back as they did.

Stepping into the doorway to the living room you saw him delicately watering some houseplant your mom babied. The first few times he had just poured water at its base, and you had to stop him, showing him how it had to be done, otherwise he’d over water it. And since then, though he had said initially that it was stupid under his breath, he took meticulous care to check if it even needed watering, and then watered it properly, like you showed him, even bringing books home to the loft about how to care for the various types of plants your mom had around the house. You found it endearing.

Smiling softly, you gently shook your head. One second you were bitter towards him, the next finding little things that made him amazing. “I’m going to go grab some clothes, my stuff got torn to hell last week when we dealt with what’s his face,” you said offhandedly, starting up the stairs. So many baddies came through this town, you got them all confused.

Derek chuckled. “Okay. You know you can always borrow some of my clothes if you need to.”

You stopped midstep on the staircase, each foot on a different step, and your grip on the bannister tightened, your knuckles turning white.

This.

This is why you had such conflicting emotions about this man. Wolf. Wolfman.

“Are you sure?” You kept your voice even, smiling softly.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, makes more sense then driving all the way over here.” His voice tried to be neutral, but it was evident he was trying to cover up something he had let slip before really thinking about it.

“Thanks. I’ll remember that next time.” You nodded once to each other before you took two steps calmly and then practically ran up the rest of them to your room.

Holding a hand to your chest, taking deep breaths to try and stabilize your heartbeat, you slumped against the door after you closed it, sighing.

You tried not to over analyze what he said, but failed.

You knew he probably was making some underhanded comment about your abilities, “coming all the way over here”, really he wanted to say, “you suck at being a werewolf, you’re always getting hurt and your clothes destroyed in the process”.

“You too, wolfman. You too,” you mumbled under your breath as you angrily rifled through one of your drawers, grabbing a few things.

You chuckled a dark laugh. “But I’m an Alpha, Y/N. I’ll heal faster.” You mocked his deep tone, your search in your drawer turning into an aimless activity, the contents totally mixed up now.

He had never been around whenever you had gotten in a hit or takedown on the baddies you guys had encountered so far in your short time in this world. For some reasons you ended up on opposite sides of the battle fields, and he never said it directly, but you knew he probably thought you sucked. How else does one end up with torn shirts from claw marks and blood being covered by your jacket?

Everyone else had called you a badass, but Derek had yet to compliment or even comment on your fighting ability. But maybe, since he trained you, that spoke more to his ability and not yours, you thought with a smirk. Satisfied with the thought, you grabbed a few clothes out of the drawer before snapping it shut.

After a few steps toward the door, you slowed to a stop, absently staring at the clothes in your hand as your thoughts cleared a little from your earlier anger.

If it was a reflection on how he thought he was, that was kind of sad. Did he really think so lowly of himself and his abilities?

You had only been in this world a short time now, but even you had to admit he was a good Alpha. A good wolfm- werewolf. A good man. He was a great person to have at your back in a fight and in mundane things like math, which was also a fight, but that was a thought for another day. He was a good friend to have, period.

Shaking your head and chuckling gently at yourself, you wondered why your thoughts were everywhere. Glancing at your calendar on the wall, you saw the full moon was coming up soon and rolled your eyes. Of course.

This would pass. This was ephemeral. You groaned softly as you made your way back down the stairs. Stiles was going to pay.

Derek met your eyes when you made it to the last step, hopping the last few inches to the first floor. He set down the watering can softly.

“Do I really sound like that?” His lips twitched upward slightly.

Screwing up your face in confusion it took you a second to realize he had heard your mutterings as you disorganized the contents of your drawer upstairs. Realization crossed your face before your palm slapped to your forehead, the groan passing your lips before you could stop it.

Derek laughed, and you looked at him apologetically, to which he motioned with his hand as if waving it away and smiled at the floor where his gaze was focused. “Don’t worry about it. I just always thought my voice was deeper than that.”

He chuckled even more as you swatted his arm, laughing gently yourself. He grabbed your wrist playfully before you could withdraw your hand, and you found yourself pulled closer to him, almost toe to toe and having to crane your neck to look up and meet his eyes that looked down at you with some emotion you couldn’t decipher.

That comfortable silence hung around you two like a blanket… Until his phone rang.

As he fished it out of his pocket, you softly cleared your throat and took a small step back, feeling Derek’s gaze on you the whole time.

“Hello?” His voice was gruff and annoyed, and he was still staring at you. It almost seemed like he was upset at whoever was on the other end for interrupting his moment with you.

But that thought quickly evaporated.

“Jennifer!” He said it with a broad smile on his face, his voice a total about face from his greeting, and his eyes moving from you to the wall behind you.

It couldn’t be who you thought. There was no way. That would be too much of a coincidence.

“No, I’m not busy,” he said, turning to the door.

Grabbing his arm to stop him, he turned to look at you, eyebrows raised in question and, if you weren’t mistaken, slight annoyance.

“What?” he mouthed.

“Who is that?” you whispered.

“A friend,” he hissed.

“Who is it?” you hissed back at him.

“Your English teacher, Jennifer Blake.” He shrugged out of your grip and out your front door, motioning you to the car.

You seethed as you turned off the lights, grabbing your bag of clothes, and locking the door after you.

Reason number five hundred and sixty two to hate Miss Jennifer Blake.

Xxx

Tags: @mayahart02, @palaiasaurus64, @shydinosaurcandy, @lucyqueenofthestars, @c-breanne1999, @l4life, @ethereallysimple, @teenwolffan-with-nolife, @bellabadacadabra What’s This?

172 notes · View notes

suchalonelysunflower · 3 years

Text

Hold you to it (h.s)

Pairing: Harry Styles X Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Harry’s home for a mini break and you plan to take advantage of his time.

Warnings: SMUT. Oral (female reciving) Face sitting. Mentions of masturbation. Language. Some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word count: 2.2 k

Author’s Note: Hey! I’m back with another Harry piece! I’m still new to writing smut and I really hope you like it. Reblogs, feedback, comments and likes are more than welcome and encouraged ❤️ hope you like it and Happy Reading ✨🦋🌻

My materialist // wanna be part of my tag list?

Picture found on Pinterest

Anon: can you do a fic like perks(calum hood), but instead its with Harry and its his facial hair instead of thighs?

You were so thankful for Olivia Wilde.

That was the only thought running through your head as you rested your back against the kitchen counter, sipping on your coffee as you watched your boyfriend play with different strumming patterns on his guitar in the living room.

Harry has always been a morning person, you knew you’d die before you see the day where he slept in more than you on a weekend. His bright smile always lit up the room, just like the sun itself when it sets through the window curtains of your shared bedroom. And today was no different.

After weeks of filming away from home, Olivia sent everyone home for a mini holiday before resuming filming the last shots of Don’t Worry Darling. And you couldn't be more grateful for that.

Harry took that opportunity to the max, planning to stay home for as long as it was physically possible. He felt incredibly guilty for leaving you alone all of these past months, even if you reassured him that you understood why he had to do it and that he had your complete support. But he was dead set on making it up to you, and so he did.

The first day came and went as you spent it tangled in the sheets, only getting out of bed when you really needed to, but never going too far to miss each other's warmth, catching up to all the things you missed, all the kisses you couldn't give and all the moments just being by his side.

The second day was not much different and neither was the third or fourth. All of your moments were spent together and you wouldn't have it any other way. You would never admit it to yourself, but you were secretly glad that Harry was as clingy as you.

It was almost like a drug, the love you had for each other. It was too much but at the same time it never seemed like enough. You would give the world to each other if it were possible, but you knew that your world was made as long as you were together.

You were addicted to him in every possible way. You knew his secrets and he knew yours. He knew just where to touch you, to kiss you, to love you, and you knew just how to make him feel like the king of the world as long as you were his queen. He showered you in delicate details that knew would make you happy, going from something simple as to make you coffee in the morning, to giving you the most expensive lingerie for you to show it off only to him. For him, you were his rock, his anchor to earth when the world became too much, sometimes even feeling like you were the only real thing he had and he would be an idiot not to appreciate you, to love you like you deserve.

Yet, sometimes you wonder if you could love him better, if you could ever be enough to deserve his kind of love. You knew if he could hear your thoughts right now, he would make all of those insecure thoughts go away with just a simple kiss. It was so easy to love him, so much so that you believe you’d never really love till him.

And, as you watch his fingers move against the strings, you know you will never love someone as much as him.

You held your mug closer to your chest, smiling as you recognized the melody he was playing. He knew your favorite songs by heart and he proudly sang them to you whenever you were around. This simple detail let you know that he was aware of your presence, even when his back was facing you. So you didn’t waste anymore time as you went up to him and sat beside him on the sofa.

“How’d you know that I was awake?” You asked, resting your head in the palm of your hand as you laid your elbow on the couch.

Harry just smiled without looking at you and without stopping his strumming “I always know it’s you” He said, his voice husky as it was still early “Hard to ignore your stare, my love”

You took another sip of your coffee, trying to hide the red that stained your cheeks at the sound of the pet name. Even after all this time you still get butterflies when he called you sweet names.

You concentrated all your attention on watching him as he played his guitar with such skill. You smiled as you watched how his curls started growing again, he had to cut his hair on a retro style for the movie and he always had to keep it neat and proper, but today it was just flying around everywhere with no direction, some of them even falling on his forehead on a perfect little curl that just made him seem angelical. You watched as his hands moved along the strings, his long fingers pressing the right chords as his strumming never stopped. You always loved his hands, his delicate touch igniting fires in you everytime he wandered your body like it was a finest piece of art and he was the sculptor.

Soon, your thoughts went deeper as you remembered the way those same fingers left their mark at the sides of your body, holding you tighter and closer to him as he fucked you roughly through the night. Touching every part of you that needed to be touched as he made you reach your climax over and over again.

You were so deep into your own mind as memories of the night before came flooding in, making you close your legs a little harder in order to feel some kind of friction that could ease your ache, that you didn’t notice that the song had stopped and that those beautiful green eyes you love so much were staring at you now.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked with a smirk, almost like he could read your dirty thoughts with just a look into your eyes.

You placed your mug on the coffee table, scooting closer to him at the same time he put his guitar to the side and rested his arm over your shoulders. You laid your head into his shoulders, lifting your gaze to meet his “Kiss me”

Harry needn’t to be told twice cause in the second you finished your sentence his hand was already flying to your cheek to pull you closer to him and capturing his lips with yours.

You were completely intoxicated on his lips, on the way they moved in sync with yours and the way that his tongue took control almost immediately, allowing him to deepen the kiss till you saw nothing but stars behind your eyes. Soon, his other hand moved to your back, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling his hardening cock.

“Feel what you’re doing to me, baby” He said with a groan after you started grinding his growing over his sweatpants.

“Harry..” You moaned as his lips moved from your mouth, to your jaw and to your neck, tracing the marks he already left and leaving new ones for you to see later. You loved the way he claimed you with every kiss, every bite. But you especially loved the way his scruffy beard was burning your skin with every move he made, making you crave that sensation over your whole body and more “I missed this”

Harry chuckled lightly, his hands going from your ass cheeks to under his shirt that you were wearing, grabbing your sides and making you grind ever harder against him, spreading your arousal all over him “If I remember correctly, we were in the same position a few hours ago, love”

“No,” You whined “I missed this” You grabbed his face softly, your fingers running over his cheeks and his scruffy beard and mustache “I’m so glad you are not filming anymore”

Whenever he had to be on set, Harry had to maintain his face clean as a baby in order to stay in character. You had complained a lot about it since you always love his facial hair, that month where he left his moustache growing was still one of your highlights of the year. And Harry was well aware of how much you like it, so for this break he let it grow all over again, knowing how much fun you’ll have with it.

He smirked like the devil before pressing his lips to your ear and whispering “If you missed it so much then why don’t you ride it?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine as he said those words, feeling your arousal grow with every moment passed “Harry..”

“Be a good girl for me, Y/N” He said, lifting your shirt and throwing it somewhere around the room. His hands immediately flew to your chest, massaging your nipples “You want to be a good girl for me, don’t ya darling?”

“Y-yes!” Was all you managed to say before Harry laid on the couch and pulled you on top of him. He waited for you to take off your drenched panties as he positioned himself on his back.

You put your hands at the sides of his face, lowering your head for one last kiss as Harry’s hand slapped your ass in order to get you to stop.

“I need to taste that little pretty pussy of yours” He said before pecking a kiss to your lips and giving you another slap on your ass.

Your legs were shaking with anticipation as you placed your center over Harry’s mouth, almost cumming right there and there when you heard him moan at the sight of your naked pussy.

“You are soaked, my love” He said, kissing the inside of your thighs “All of this for me?”

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, but right now you didn’t give a damn “For you, Harry” You moaned, feeling his breath over your center “All for you, always”

“Hmm, good” Harry said before grabbing you by the sides of your hip and pulling you into him by surprise.

You let out a loud moan when his tongue lapped at your entrance, licking every single spot before moving to your aching clit. He started kissing your bundle of nerves, biting it lightly before he started sucking you clean.

“Oh my god” You said, hand flying to Harry’s head and tugging hard on his curls as he moved his face between your thighs, creating that burning sensation with his beard that you know you’d feel for days to come.

Harry started licking you up and down, holding on to your hips and moving them as he deemed fit, stopping at your clit every few movements to tease you as much as he could. He could die happy between your legs, savoring every part of you like you were his last meal on death row. He absolutely adored the way you tugged on his hair, making him moan as he felt you shiver above him with all your little dirty sounds going straight to his hard cock. It might be the little narcissist in him, but he relished in the fact that he was the only one who could make you come undone using only his mouth.

He knew you were close without even having to look at you. Your moans became louder and louder and your tug on his hair was almost painful. He loved that.

“You’re close, baby?” He asked in between your legs.

“S-so close, Harry. Baby. So close” You whimpered.

Suddenly, Harry’s movements stopped as his hands let go of your hips. Making you let out a desperate cry.

“Earn it”

That was all he had to say before you started grinding yourself onto his mouth. Your hips moved at a fast pace as you were selfishly chasing your orgasm.

Harry felt like he was in heaven as he felt you fuck yourself with his mouth, letting him taste every part of you as he gladly ate you out. Moaning inside of you with every hard tug you have to his hair.

You were drunk on him, completely intoxicated as you moved yourself against his mouth, not caring about the sounds that were coming out of your mouth or the way that you could hear how Harry was touching himself as he pleasured you. All of that only adding to your imminent orgasm.

“Harry- B-baby I’m cumming” You pant, moving faster and faster as you could feel the burn inside your thighs “Oh-I’m cumming!” You practically screamed as you felt yourself let go on top of him.

You felt Harry’s hand come and hold you in place by your sides, his tongue fucking you through your climax and licking every single drop of cum you had to offer.

A few moments later, you found yourself on top of Harry, tasting yourself in his tongue as he kissed you deeply “You okay?” He asked once he pulled away and saw your pleasure filled eyes.

“You love me too much” You said, smiling as he turned you over so he could be on top.

Harry chuckled as he lowered his head to kiss you again, this time a little rougher than before “I promise I can show you just how much more I can love you”

You moaned as you felt him grind his cock over your sensitive pussy, coating it with your juices as he was almost ready to push it inside of you.

“I’ll hold you to it”

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @multistann @tenaciousperfectionunknown @talksoprettyjjx @mystic-232

456 notes · View notes

get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

#1 Victory Royale

✧ pairing: college student!spinner x student!afab!reader

✧ word count: 4.4k

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, light angst, mostly soft/fluff, smut, could be hate fucking if you squint, afab reader but no pronouns, this is pretty tame, by like my standards, I wrote this at work, not really a warning, but it felt like you needed to know that

✧ summary: relationships suck and Spinner is starting to think maybe he does too

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, welcome back to more college au bs from me. This is set in the same universe once again as all my other college pieces. A very sweet anon asked if we'd ever get to see more of Spinner, so here he is! Also with another cameo from shiggy's bitch (endearing) cause I can't help myself.

“Ughhhhhh….”

Spinner’s groaning echoed through the tiny apartment, the heavy sound of creaking couch cushions under his weight following.

“What?” his long-suffering roommate shouted out their bedroom door, rapidly shoving clothing and a toothbrush into an overnight bag.

“Uggghhhhhhh!”

He let out with another, louder dying animal wail. He’d been like this since they woke up—wallowing in some strange concoction of self pity and Red Bull on the kitchen floor when they walked in for water two hours ago.

“Motherfucker,” they mumbled, tossing their bag to the floor and marching, more than a little disgruntled, into the hall. “What do you want?”

Spinner was sitting upside down on the couch now, feet up against the wall tapestry and cotton candy hair splayed out on the floor. He stared blankly as his friend came into view—arms crossed, frowning at him from the end of the hall—and opened his mouth once more, letting out another garbled grunt that had one of the neighbors pounding twice on the wall to shut his dramatic ass up.

“Dude seriously, are you gonna tell me who pissed in your cereal or are you just gonna scream until the guys next door kick a hole through our wall?”

They almost felt bad as he looked away, sniffing and letting himself slump farther off the sofa until he was sprawled completely on the hardwood and staring, glassy eyed, up at the ceiling.

When he finally spoke a full sentence, his gaze was locked on the water stain above him from a year ago when the upstairs neighbors flooded their apartment trying to make jungle juice in the bathtub.

“I don’t know, I’m just in my feels as the kids say,” he sounded so dejected—strange for someone who was perpetually energized to a frustrating degree—that their shoulders immediately slumped from a hardass square to a softer, more sympathetic angle

They padded over to join him on the floor.

“Care to elaborate, oh roomie of mine?”

There was a pause and Spinner tapped his nails against the hardwood idly before responding.

“I guess I’m just feeling, like, fucking I don’t know,” he sighed, knocking his head against the dusty boards, “left out I guess? That’s not quite right, but it’s just Magne mentioned last time she came to The League meeting that Jin was seeing somebody and it just got me all introspective and weird…”

“Hm,” his roommate hummed thoughtfully and studied the way the textured white ceiling gave way to the rings of brown water damage, like a dead and dying flower, “I thought you and Jin weren’t ever that serious?”

“We weren’t,” Spinner groaned again and rubbed his eyes. “We went on like, one date a year ago and I haven’t thought about it really at all since then. I’m not sure why hearing he’s got someone else now made me so fucking...jealous I guess.”

“I mean, maybe you just never really gave yourself the time to process it?” they asked and received only an annoyed huff and accompanying groan. “Sorry, should have asked if you were looking for advice or just wanting to rant. My bad.”

“No, it’s fine. I think it’s just…”

Spinner trailed off and they shifted as the hard floor bit at their back and made it ache. The muscles were sore already as it was, and Tomura blowing their fucking back a few times a week wasn’t really helping. They’d created some kind of perpetually horny monster, but something told them cracking a joke about it wasn’t really going to help the situation much. Thankfully, Spinner found his way to filling the silence a minute later.

“I don’t think it has anything specifically to do with Jin. Yeah I liked him, we’re still really good friends and I don’t feel like I need him to be more than that. It’s just that—and this is gonna make me sound like a massive asshole—but with you and your new fucking boyfie and now even Jin finding someone to date I just keep seeing reminders everywhere of how motherfucking isolated I am.”

“Oh,” they felt their face burn a bit, guilt frothing as they were forced to acknowledge the fact that in all the time they’ve spent holed up with Tomura, Spinner had been discarded like an old Steam game, bought impulsively on sale and never played again. “I’m sorry I haven’t been prioritizing you—”

“No, no, no shut the fuck with that,” he waved his hand to cut them off and pushed himself up on his palms. “I know I’m not being fair about it, and I really am happy for you guys, but idk man….I just feel like I’m never gonna find that you know?”

Beside him, his roommate remained sprawled out on the floor like a homicide tape outline and was just as deadly quiet.

“I just,” he continued, running an angry hand through his hair, “I know I could be such a good partner. Like I’m funny and I’m not a fucking creep, which is actually a plus to most people.”

He shot a side glance down and they rolled their eyes, sitting up and knocking his shoulder roughly till he toppled back to the dirty floor and they stood above him.

“Fuck off,” they chuckled.

His roommate watched as the laughter seemed to infect him like a bad cold, creeping down the back of his throat and shaking in his chest.

“No I’m serious, I would be such a fucking great boyfriend. I give goddamn top quality cuddles and I actually know how to do laundry, what more does one need truly?”

“Damn bro, you’ve known how to fold your own clothes this whole time?”

The giggling spread into the quiet space, rocking through both their shoulders and leaving the air feeling light—fresh like the first nights of Spring. When it finally petered out into friendly silence, they were both far lighter.

“I just like the way you fold my t-shirts, the sleeves don’t get those weird creases when you do it,” he muttered and stood, doing his best to fix the wild pink locks that stood on end from his fidgeting.

“Yeah I’m sure,” his roommate rolled their eyes and turned back down the hall.

When they left for the night to stay over with their boyfriend, Spinner tried not to acknowledge the way he subconsciously glared at their back as they walked out the door, skipping yet another League meeting to swap spit with that guy from their English class.

He tried even harder not to think of how their bed would be warm and their legs would have legs to tangle with, their chest have a chest to lay against, while he heated up instant noodles in the microwave and fell asleep alone on their living room couch.

Not to mention that tonight was the big tournament with that new group on campus. He was really banking on his bff (best fucking friend as they were always sure to clarify) and him teaming up to crush those assholes from The Commission or whatever they called themselves.

Fucking lame as shit name in his opinion.

In any case, he’d have to settle for Magne again, and she was such a loose cannon they were sure to get their asses handed to them. She was a great fucking tank, he’d be the first to admit, but strategy was not a strong point of hers and they desperately needed that tonight.

He could feel the sinking weight of failure rolling in the pit of his stomach already even as he dragged himself into his room to tug on an old pair of jeans.

It bothered him way more than it should, the idea of losing some gaming tournament that, by all means held little to no actual significance.

Spinner knew the stock he’d started placing in games was growing to an unhealthy degree.

He knew that.

But self awareness rarely did anything to alleviate the irrational fear of failing at one of the only remaining consistencies in his life.

It stung worse when the tournament kicked off and by the third round, Spinner was the only remaining League member in the brackets.

“Fucking shit…” he muttered to himself, the small basement room alight with the blue glow of the monitor and the sound of frantically smashing controllers.

Behind him on the couch—stolen long ago from the theater building—Magne held him by the shoulders as he grit his teeth and leaned into the movement of his avatar on screen.

“You got this babe,” she shouted, cheek pressed up to his ear. “Make ‘em eat shit for me!”

“I would if you stopped distracting me,” Spinner hissed back.

Really it wasn’t Magne’s aggressive and somewhat bloodthirsty style of encouragement that shook his focus so badly.

It was his opponent.

The fucking president of The Commission sat, thighs spread and pressed to his, resting your weight on your elbows and snarling beside him in the couch.

Your face was split in this heart stopping grin as you quite deftly dodged all his attempts to get a hit in and managed to land a few of your own in the process.

And you looked really hot doing it.

Which was definitely just a side effect of the punch he (didn’t) drink and the body heat fueled temperature of the room—sweaty skin against sweaty skin making his mind wander against his will.

The shifting in his seat was absolutely just to illogically make him move faster and had nothing to do with how tight his pants now seemed.

So much for not being a fucking creep.

Your teammates were gathered in a circle behind you, enraptured and exuding the kind of smug confidence that said quite clearly The League was fucked from the second they walked in.

Not even two minutes later your hands were thrown up, punching the air and your team piling over the back of the couch to drown you in a sea of celebratory limbs.

Spinner felt himself deflating even as he was toppled off the couch by your screaming members and The League collectively cursed in the background.

Truthfully he’d known the chances of winning were slim.

Ever since his roommate started getting busy with classes and clubs that ‘looked good on their resume,’ The League had gone downhill rapidly. It was a problem since long before that Shigaraki guy swooped in and stole them away, but Spinner couldn’t stop himself from lowkey holding that against him.

The League had consumed so much of his life in college, functioning as a haven where he was finally respected and belonged to an extent he’d never experienced before.

The stink of failure and loss, not of the game but the only space he’d ever really occupied without complaint, burned his face and made the room feel more suffocating than usual.

Magne looked as though she wanted to give him one of her signature—and admittedly very comforting—hugs, but the deadly look of disappointment on Spinner’s face must have made her think twice.

The rest of his team seemed to read this sudden downward shift in the room as they began to filter out, climbing the steps onto street level and away from the suddenly stuffy, uncomfortable meeting spot. Normally everyone would stay and finish off the drinks snuck past the janitorial staff, eating Doritos until well past midnight. This time they couldn’t wait to be rid of him.

He couldn’t really blame them.

The multimedia building was a strange place after hours. Once Spinner might have called it something rare and liminal, now it felt more like a prison.

He stood, packing up the consoles a bit more roughly than necessary when someone cleared their throat behind him.

He turned to see you, standing alone with hands on your hips and scowling like you were the one who just got their gaming reputation ruined.

“Dude what the fuck was that?”

Spinner bristled at the knife sharp point of your tone.

“Really?” he asked incredulously. “You seriously waited around to rub your win in my face?”

You rolled your eyes and took a step closer around the couch. “I’m not talking about the fucking game dumbass. Why the hell are you pouting like I stole your fucking candy or some shit? You ruined the vibes man.”

“If anyone was ruining the vibes, it was you and your cocky ass team.”

Spinner felt himself stepping closer too, pulled in by the celestial weight that accompanied any kindling argument.

“Me?” you pointed to your chest and scoffed, “Wow, I was really hoping you’d actually possess a bit of emotional maturity, but if this is how you get after a loss I’m not shocked your fucking club is bleeding members.”

At some point the two of you had gravitated close enough that he felt the puff of your last breath on his cheeks. Two comets, ready and willing to collide.

“I’m not being the asshole in this situation, you know that right?” Spinner glared down his nose at you, heart pounding in his ears. “Maybe you shouldn’t make fucking unfounded assumptions about people you don’t know.”

“So then why are your panties in a twist over a fucking game?” you retorted.

He was peripherally aware that your eyes had taken on the same laser focused quality as they had during the last round. Determined and locked onto him without sparing a glance to anything else.

It was this same undivided attention that he’d envied in you as you played, and as Spinner felt it trained on him, his pants once again felt uncomfortably restrictive.

“It’s not about the fucking game okay!?” his voice came out hoarse and far more petulant than he’s been aiming for.

Though he quickly felt the embarrassment give rise to a secondary heat as you both breathed each other’s air and searched the face across from you.

“Then what is it about?”

That strange, unexplainable, inexplicable rush of potential filled the small gap that remained between your bodies—the kind of tension Spinner was beginning to think he’d never feel again.

He’d kissed plenty of people. Almost more than he’d like to admit, or that they’d like to admit more accurately.

But when his flickering eyes found your hard stare still and unwavering from his, it felt incredibly natural to lean in and press his lips against your fading frown.

It was slow going, the few centimeters that separated you seemed like miles as he moved slowly, never breaking eye contact until his mouth was finally slotted over yours and you weren’t pushing him away.

There was still a bit of lingering confusion, as this was decidedly not what either of you appeared to be expecting from the prior conversation. That coupled with the fact that Spinner wasn’t entirely sure he remembered your first name made the feeling of your tongue prodding at the seam of his lips all the more startling.

When he gasped, you slid your hands up his chest and licked into his mouth. Tongue tangling between breaths, Spinner felt himself getting lost in the familiar and coveted taste of another mouth, another body, another hand that grasped, that desired, that wanted him.

***

Your knees dug into the cushions on either side of Spinner’s thighs as you bounced in his lap. He fought to keep his eyes open against the pleasure of his cock sinking into you over and over again, so he could watch the way your head was thrown back and your chest heaved with the exertion.

He dug his hands into your hips and let his head hit the back of the couch, feet planted on the floor to help his hips thrust up into you, earning him some of the prettiest, stifled moans he’d ever heard.

Truthfully, he had not expected to fuck you. He figured you might be down to just make out for a bit until the cleaning staff came and booted you from the building, but both your pants had quite quickly and naturally found their way to the floor.

Neither of you spoke much, which he was thankful for. That would have been far too complicated of a conversation, especially considering you really didn’t know each other all that well.

Spinner usually liked to do a bit of ‘getting to know you’ type activities before he hooked up with people, which he did with surprising frequency for somebody so starved for a long term thing. Sex just fucking felt good and it was this eagerness that was his downfall. Most people he’d fucked around with seemed to read the urge to get into their pants as a diminished interest or emotional attraction and Spinner ended up with more friends with benefits than actual friends...or benefits.

Regardless, it was fine by him that the only form of communication passing between you for now were scattered groans of pleasure and the wet slap of your ass against his thighs.

He’d nearly forgotten how fucking amazing pussy felt.

For no particular reason, Spinner had always found himself fooling around with bodies more similar to his own. Not that he had any real preference, though the lack of experience often made him a bit nervous in the whole ‘pleasing your partner’ department, despite many helpful lessons from his roommate.

That was all to say that Spinner was incredibly thankful you reached down to guide his hand that had clumsily begun rubbing circles on your clit. That is until you simply knocked it away and went back to riding his dick like a fucking champ.

Then he did speak.

“Wanna make you cum,” he mumbled and really did sound like he was pouting this time.

You peered down at him, slowing your pace so you sat flush in his lap, grinding his cock deep against your walls. Spinner keened as you clenched around him, pussy so deliciously warm he felt himself near to drowning in the feel of you.

“Mm fuck,” you panted, leaning in to steal a few more messy kisses from him before lifting up and enveloping him in the slick heat all over again. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No,” he nipped at the column or your throat, careful not to leave any lasting marks just in case. “If I’m finishing, you’re fucking finishing.”

You pulled back and stared at him for a moment. He felt you purposefully tightening around him just so he would squirm under your curious gaze. After a moment you smirked and rolled your eyes again, taking his hand and guiding his fingers back to that little nub just above where his thick length was seated inside you.

Spinner was proud of his dick, it was hefty but not so long that it was a hassle to fit—just enough to reach all the important bits. He was sensitive as hell too most of the time, so just about any pressure felt amazing. But the best part of it was watching whoever he was fucking fall apart on his goddamn perfect cock.

So when you whispered, “Like this,” and showed him the rhythm and motion you liked, he pulled himself back from the brink to pay attention, speeding up until that look of cooled control slid right off your face.

“Ahh, yes fuck...” the words tumbled from you freely now. “Shit, yeah just like that—”

Spinner could get fucking drunk off the low groan that left you as he planted his feet more firmly and bucked his hips up. He must have hit something good by the way you choked and moaned boarding on too loud, though he had neither the heart nor self control to stop you.

“Feel good?” he grunted, picking up the pace and force he thrust into you, so that you had to loop your arms around his neck and hold tightly as he speared you on his cock.

“Fuck...yes..” you whimpered into his shoulder which did wonders for his ego.

Spinner kept up his rubbing frantic patterns on your clit and feeling the gradual constriction of your walls around him—the coil growing tight and ready to snap. He nudged your cheek with his until you pulled back a bit to face him.

“I want to see you,” he murmured, sucking your tongue into his mouth for a moment and tearing himself away so he could watch as you came undone around him.

You gave him a strange, soft look and pressed your forehead to his, eyes zoned in on only him.

The rest of the room, the whole fucking basement and campus melted away under that stare.

Your nipples peaked through your shirt, brushing against his as you were jostled into him by the movement of your hips. As you reached your peak, words devolved into increasingly breathy gasps. It took Spinner an incredible amount of concentration not to fucking paint your insides then and there.

Your pussy was so goddamn tight and warm and milking him just right, it was a fucking impressive feat to remain staunchly at the edge of his peak as your mouth fell open and your fingernails scratched at his back when you finally came—the telltale spasms around his cock and the near sobs coming from you more than enough indication.

He lost himself well and truly then.

Lost in the false sense of intimacy that came with being allowed to see you fall apart, this person he barely knew yet made him feel immensely important in that moment. Your breath and spit was in his mouth, the smell and feel of you soaking his length pushed him beyond the realm of conscious thought.

There was only a deep and burning need to be closer to you. So, so much closer.

His hands moved of their own accord, hooking under your thighs and flipping your bodies so your back hit the cushions and he hovered above you. The angle allowed him to slide deeper, pulling out and thrusting his hips in fast, hard strokes that hurtled him towards release.

Spinner couldn’t keep himself quite now either, panting and moaning and gasping unashamedly with his eyes screwed shut as you took his cock so unbelievably well.

It wasn’t until your hands, softer than he’d imagined, cupped his jaw and pulled him down to meet you that he was brought back down from whatever higher plane of existence his impending orgasm whisked him too.

Your lips weren’t nearly as frantic as the rocking of his thighs, the slap of his balls against your ass. The sweetness was an odd but welcome contrast.

“I’m gonna—fucking mm...” he tried so hard to get his tongue to form the words but he could feel himself slipping further as you started clamping around his length again.

“I know,” you breathed against his lips, faces pressed together and unmoving eyes steady on his own. “Ahh, inside if you want.”

He did want.

Oh fuck did he want nothing more in that moment to stay sunk in your warmth and pump you so full, but the last few remaining logical braincells reminded him that was not a great idea. Not without a more in-depth conversation neither of you was in a state to have.

“Shouldn’t...” he groaned and moved to pull out but your ankles locked around his ass and forced him back down.

“It’s okay,” you huffed and rocked into him, squeezing around the sensitive head of his dick just once, just right and that did him in.

It was something in the way you looked at him, so that he could feel nothing but secure—nothing but safe wrapped up in you. Something about the way you pressed him closer, in the movement of your thumb on his cheek.

It scratched some deep seated, lonely itch in Spinner.

Made it feel like this meant a hell of a lot more than it probably did.

In seconds he was blowing his fucking load right into you, milking himself in your heat until he was spent and overstimulated. You were kind enough to pull him to you, turning your bodies so you laid side by side on the coach, his softening cock slipping from you in a gush of release.

For a minute or so, neither of you spoke, just stared, long and comfortable at the stranger you’d just fucked on the gaming club couch.

Well.

Fucked wasn’t really the word he’d use at that point to describe what you’d just done, but anything more than that felt presumptuous.

You broke the silence as he nuzzled into your palm.

“You really needed that didn’t you?”

Spinner couldn’t help the familiar, infectious laugh that rattled in his chest. He liked the smile it earned him, far more genuine than any others you’d worn that night.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

You hummed, nodding in response. “Mm, me too.”

And somehow, for no real logical reason, Spinner knew you understood. That you felt the same isolation, the same starvation for love, for holding weight in someone else’s world.

That the games were just a placeholder, a way to fill the space, to get lost in other lives, in other stories where he did matter. Where his actions had foreseeable and measurable worth. That’s why it hurt to lose. Not for the glory, but for the destruction of the only remaining diversion from how empty his reality felt.

Even if it wasn’t really.

Even if there were friends and benefits and friends who offered both. His roommate could let him rest his head in their lap on movie nights or sleep in his bed on occasion when the heat went out and he got cold too quickly. But none of that quite filled the hole like you now, holding his face and knowing the struggle without him having to explain it.

Nothing like you pulling him in and kissing him too familiarly for someone he’d only known a day.

Magne used to say something about shit like this. Something like how people bond in train cars when there’s a rat eating a slice of pizza and you all watch it happen. Some weird camaraderie forged in the shared experience of life being a little fucking freaky a lot of the time.

That was how it felt when you slipped your leg between his and brushed your lips together again. Content to lay, half naked in the media building basement, making out with some guy you beat at Smash and fucked right after.

Reveling in the brief but meaningful feeling of mattering in some small, strange way to someone else.

Of holding weight.

Of being held.

#spinner x reader #shuichi iguchi x reader #spinner x y/n #spinner x you #college au #mha angst #student!reader

95 notes · View notes

obeyme-darling · 4 years

Note

410 with satan

In a Rut

[Satan x Fem!Reader]

18+! NSFW

Prompt: “I wouldn't disturb him during his breeding season if I were you.”

A/N: Guess who’s writing something for all the brothers based off this prompt... Asmo is next!!

Satan had been ignoring you for some time now. You were confused but tried to let it roll off your back. That was until you saw him at the library and he completely ignored you. Then you spoke to him, he locked into your stare, you smiled and waved, and he turned the opposite way and walked off.

You sat in the kitchen pouting, munching on a bowl of cereal and sulking like you had never sulked before. Satan had been a pretty nice friend once you had gotten to know him. He would read with you, teach you new things about the Devildom, and you would share your knowledge with him. It wasn’t much, since he was a demon and knew a lot, and you were a mere human with limited knowledge, but he always seemed excited when you told about all your interests and little things you had remembered throughout your life.

“Oh, MC...” Beel walked into the kitchen and saw you sadly eating, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Satan...” You blew out air and shoveled another spoonful into your mouth. “He’s been completely ignoring me! He’s doing it on purpose too!”

“Oh.”

You furrowed your brows. Beel knew something you didn't know. You cocked your head and watched Beel shift a little uncomfortably. “Beel, what is wrong with Satan? Did I do something?”

Belphegor wandered into the kitchen, on a mission. “Beel, what is taking you so long? I’m hungry.”

“I’ve been in here for two minutes? Go back to bed, I’ll be up there in a minute.”

“Look, I’m going to go find Satan, I need to figure out what I did.”

Belphegor, without skipping a beat and without turning towards you, spoke up, “I wouldn't disturb him during his breeding season if I were you.”

“His what?”

Belphegor sighed and turned around. He was not about to go through that with you. Beel gave you a shocked look. Belphegor threw his brother into the wild and was not about to return for him.

“Beel...” You sucked in air, trying to process everything. “What is he talking about?”

“Demons- we uh- we go into these... Ruts? I guess you could compare it to that?”

“So, I did nothing wrong? It’s just his rut?”

“I’m sure you did nothing wrong, you’re a lovely person and Satan adores you.”

Your face flushed. He did not hate you after all. You nodded and let Beel go. Once you finished your cereal you walked back up to your room, pulling out your DDD you began to text Satan. Hoping for some reply. You looked at your sent messages before saying anything.

‘Hey, wanna meet at the library?’

‘I found a new book, you’ve probably read it, but I need to talk about it!’

‘I have no one else to yell about this with...’

Those were over the past few days. No response. Knowing you did nothing wrong now though, hopefully, you wanted to try again.‘Hey, I just wanted to say, whenever you wanna hang out again, we can. I’m not mad about all this.’

Then you waited. You laid down in your bed and began to doze off. Your DDD buzzed beside you, jolting you awake. You wiped drool from your chin and looked at your DDD, finding you had a message.

‘Meet me in the library.’

Your stomach turned. You did not hesitate though. Straightening out your shirt, you stood and made your way to the library. Your bare feet padded down the hall, your footsteps echoing around you.You opened the door to the library and walked in. Nothing. No one. You sighed and stepped further into the room. Your eyes wandered and you crossed your arms. You began to pull your DDD out and message Satan when the library door closed.

“You came.”

You turned and felt your stomach flip. You gave Satan a meek smile and his eyes burned your skin. He looked you up and down, his fingernails digging into his palms. He inhaled sharply and his eyes closed.

“I’m assuming you know.”

“Uh, Belphie told me.”

“Figures.” He took a step towards you.

You were stuck to the floor though. You could not step back, you could not move forward. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched Satan’s every move. Muscles tensed as he stopped walking, only a few feet from you now.

Swallowing hard you began to speak, “If now isn’t a good time, we really can-”

“No. You really wanted to see me.”

“I uh, forgot what book I wanted to talk about...” That was not a lie, the thought of Satan being in some rut, absolutely ready to pounce at any given moment was kind of fucking with your head, in a good way.

“Oh, what a shame.” Satan placed his arms behind his back and turned away, “I’d better let you get back to bed then.”

“No!” Your arm went out in front of you, “Wait! Maybe I can- Is there anything I can do to help you?”

You had thought about fucking Satan many times since getting to know him. You had no intentions on acting on that though. But now... the way he was staring, how tense he was, you wanted to do something. He was obviously avoiding you for a reason.

“MC...” Satan kept his back towards you, “you should really go to bed. I would prefer to not harm our special human guest.”

“Oh, uh okay.”

You hadn’t expected to be declined when you offered during a time of need. You did not want to push anything though. You walked past Satan and heard him inhale. Before you could register anything else, you were against a bookshelf, back arched and chest to chest with Satan. Who was now very obviously not in human form anymore.

“Satan...”

“You smell absolutely delectable.” His nose was pressed against your neck and his hands gripped your hips.

“You’re hurting me,” You whined, wiggling against him.

He pulled back and his eyes widened, “Oh I’m sorry, MC, I- You should go.”

“No.” You met his stare and shook your head, “Not if I can help.”

“I can’t risk hurting you.”

“Look,” you placed your hands on his shoulder, under his fluffy boa “you look absolutely feral right now, and that is kinda sexy. I promise, I’ll be okay. You just kinda... shocked me a second ago.”

“Fine.” Satan moved close to you again, “I warned you though.”

Satan pressed his lips to yours, trying his best to not harm you, but as soon as you kissed back he became more ravenous. His hands roamed from your hips to your waist and his nails dug into your shirt, ripping the fabric.

“Fuck-” You mumbled out as Satan moved his lips from yours to your neck. Your skin was burning from Satan’s touch. His warm palms pressed against the soft flesh of your waist and his nails began to scrape at your skin.

“So soft,” Satan nipped at your neck, obviously trying to hold back. “So good.”

Satan could not control himself any longer, he was bursting at the seams to get you undressed and to fuck you. One of his hands moved to your pants and unbuttoned them with precision you definitely did not have.

“Shouldn't we be- maybe we should-” Unable to speak, you just kept panting out unfinished sentences.

“Use your words, love.”

Satan did not back off, he kept at you. You whined and grabbed his wrists, “Maybe we should go to your room.” You finally forced out.

“No time now.”

His voice was hoarse and deeper than you were used to. Satan had lost all control and he was about to fuck you against the bookshelf in the library. That anyone could walk into at any given time. It was time to sleep, so most of the brothers were in their rooms, making you hopeful you would be left alone.

Satan pulled your pants down and you easily kicked them off. You figured it’d be easier to take them off rather than him rip everything off of you and you have to run back to your room naked. He moved to rip off of your bra and you stopped him, somehow.

“No.”

Satan was taken aback. He cocked his head and watched you unclasp your bra and take it off, throwing it to the ground. “Can’t have you ripping my nice clothes, now can I?”

“Fine,” Satan cornered you, his arms going to either side of your head, “take off your underwear. Don’t want to rip such fine articles of clothing.”

Your stomach turned. His pupils were practically slits as he looked down at you. You nodded and quickly kicked off your panties. Satan mumbled a ‘perfect’ under his breath and he eyed you closely. You were so vulnerable and that was suddenly very, very apparent to you. Standing naked in the library in front of a demon who could easily kill you if he wished, waiting to be fucked.

Satan quickly undressed, throwing his clothes on the floor beside yours. And then, he was on you again. “So perfect,�� he growled out, “and you’re all mine.” He snatched you closer to him, and his nails dug into your skin again, this time causing you to yelp.

“Shhh,” he grunted, “we can’t let them know we’re in here.”

You nodded and tried to keep quiet. While you were looking up at the ceiling, focusing on being quiet, Satan was preparing you for him. He roughly pushed two fingers into you and, without thinking, you covered your mouth and bit into your palm.

A “Fuck!” was muffled into your hand and tears pricked your eyes. Satan began, very quickly, pumping his fingers in and out of you. Your hips rolled into his fingers and your eyes rolled back. Your head rolled forward and hit Satan’s shoulder. You bit down without thinking and felt Satan’s fingers pick up speed.

“Taking me so well-” Satan grunted, his fingers pulling all the way out before pushing all the back in. He really wanted to make sure you were ready for his cock, he was truly being so generous.While moaning and whining into his neck, you began to come undone. Your hips continued to roll into his fingers as a heat formed in your gut. You were shaking and holding onto him so tightly your nails were causing marks to form on his shoulders.You tried your best to keep your voice down, but it was getting hard.

“Bite.”

You followed Satan’s orders and bit down on his neck as you came. Satan’s fingers kept their pace as you rode out your orgasm. You cried, “Please, ah shit!”

“What do you want, love?”

“Fuck me, please,” you whined as Satan pulled his fingers out of you. He pushed his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them while his eyes locked with yours. Chills went down your spine and you felt your legs buckling again.

“You’re so sweet, so innocent,” he snarled the last word.

Satan grabbed your legs and pulled them around his waist as he pushed you further into the bookshelf. A book dug into your back and you let out a cry. Once Satan had you off the ground he walked to the chair in front of the fireplace and easily sat down with you. Your legs were on either side of his and his hands were pushing down on your hips.

Without thinking, you pushed yourself down onto Satan’s cock and sighed. He restrained himself while you grew comfortable around him and gave a few experimental bounces. Once he knew you were okay, he bucked his hips into yours and you gasped.

“Satan!”

You were getting a little too loud. You bit your bottom lip and stared into his eyes, watching him enjoy fucking you. He grabbed your hips and began to move you at the pace he wanted you to go. You may have been on top, but he was still very much so in control.

You ran your hands through his hair and noticed him let out a moan when you touched his horns. He may have been in control, but you were about to turn the tables, even if only briefly. You gently ran your hands up his horns and let out a strangled moan when bucked into you as hard as he could.

“Fuck.” He grunted as you ground into him, “do that again.”

You did as you were told and watched as Satan’s eyes closed and his jaw went slack. You bounced up and down on his cock while you ran your fingertips up and down his horns.

“So obedient for me.” He groaned, one of his hands running from your hip and up to your ribs, ever so softly. It was your turn to moan.You struggled to keep up with Satan. He seemed like he was still holding back somewhat, and you were still fighting to keep up. You pressed your forehead against his and let out soft, muffled moans as you bit your lip.

“Fuck, you’re taking my cock so well, you’re such a good girl.” Satan whispered, sending you over the edge.

Your body was rocking against his, shaking as you came undone. Your nails raked down his shoulders and you let out a loud moan, almost not caring anymore if someone heard you. Satan thrusted into you, growling and snarling as he finally came. He slowed down, but did not pull his cock from you. He did not let you move. He held you still for a moment, his forehead against yours and both of your eyes closed. Your breathing was shallow and ragged and his breaths were slow and deep.

Your phone began to buzz and Satan finally let you move. You stumbled across the library to your phone and picked it up. It was Lucifer.

‘Are you with Satan?!’

“Who is it?”

“Lucifer. I think he knows.”

You began to struggle to get dressed, you did not want Lucifer walking in on your naked ass. You were panicking. Lucifer surely would not want you fucking any of them while they were like this, and yet...

“Slow down.” Satan walked over to you, “we can just go to my room-”

“Oh you aren’t- this wasn’t a one time thing?”

“No.”

You lit up. You were practically rushing to get ready and head up to Satan’s room. You were tired, but you were all up for helping Satan, if this was what he needed.

#obey me! shall we date?#obey me satan #obey me imagine #obey me smut #obey me satan smut

500 notes · View notes

pradaksj · 3 years

Text

ghostin || part one. (m.)

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ summary ⟶ ❝Though I wish he were here instead. Don't want that living in your head, he just comes to visit me when I'm dreaming every now and then. ❞

❧ pairing⟶ seokjin/reader

❧ genre⟶ angst, angst, and angst … did i say angst? + a bit of fluff? friends to lovers.

❧ word count ⟶ 20,000+

❧ warnings ⟶ major character death! sad ending. descriptions of grieving process.

❧ a/n ⟶ this is based on both ghostin by ariana grande and the one that got away by katy perry and pluto projector by rex orange county which has a godlike violin instrumental that is a perfect fit for this story. i def recommend listening to the slowed + reverb versions. + i tried to make transitions as clear as possible so please let me know how i did on those :( and lastly ermmm dont stress too much on specific time stamps and ages bc ermmm I just did quick maths for a lot of it LMAO

❧ part of the ⟶ thank u, next series

part 1 || part 2 (final)

2050.

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear grandma, happy birthday to you!” the sound of multiple claps echo across the room, symbolizing the start of a new year for you.

Today was your 75th birthday celebration and around you were your two grandkids along with your only daughter. It seemed as the years went by, the need for such grand celebrations weren’t as important as they used to be. A simple cutting of the cake surrounded by the people you love being enough to suffice.

“Grandma! You have to blow the candles out!” your youngest grandson eagerly reminds you, ready to blow them out himself if you didn’t take action soon, “and don’t forget to make a wish and don’t tell us or else it won’t come true!”

“Mm,” you smile warmly, gently closing your eyes and puffing a gentle huff of air, your mind blank of any wishes, for you had stopped believing in the magic of wishes a long long time ago.

“Alright, now to cut it … Jia go grab a cutting knife from the block set,” you hear your daughter command your oldest grandchild, who at this moment was clearly too consumed with whatever she had going on in her phone to even bother listening, “Jia!” she finally snaps her head up at the sound of her mother’s voice raising an octave, “How many times do I have to tell you to stop using that phone so much, not only is it rude but we’re celebrating your grandma’s birthday. The least you can do is have the courtesy to turn off your phone.”

She rolls her eyes in response, “Mom, I’m sure grandma doesn’t mind … right grandma?” she flashes you the toothy grin that you were used to seeing whenever she wanted something, knowing she’s always had a special place in your heart as the first grandchild.

All you can do is chuckle softly, feeling too old to entertain and be dragged into the bickering arguments between your daughter and granddaughter. Carefully you get up yourself and grab a cutting knife despite your daughter’s pleas to sit.

“Look at what you’ve made your grandma do Ji—” but before your daughter could continue with her scolding, you raise a hand as a gesture of interrupting.

“I’m old, but I’m not that old Yeojin, getting up to grab a knife isn’t the end of the world for me,” you sigh, “Now let’s stop with all of the bickering and eat some cake.”

It was odd really, growing up you could never exactly picture yourself getting to this age (not that you weren’t ever hoping to), but like any other person you just always pictured yourself being young forever.

It wasn’t until your first gray hair appeared several years ago that it suddenly struck you that you really were actually aging. From there the wrinkles upon your skin grew to be more prevalent and things you had no problem doing when you were in your teenage years began to consume much more energy from you.

And now that you observed yourself in the mirror, here on your 75th birthday, did you realize that life had really gone by in the blink of an eye.

Of course 75 wasn’t too old of an age, but now retired and living under the light supervision of your nearly 50 year old daughter, you had long ago realized that the days of wild adventures and endless partying were long over. In a way it was time to start asking yourself if you had lived a life you could be proud of and if you fulfilled the promise you made over 50 years ago.

Honestly, you were unsure, but before you could dwell on your thoughts for any longer, the sound of an argument going on downstairs catches your attention.

“Hand me the phone Jia!” you hear your daughter’s voice yell across the room as you made your way into the living room.

“I said no! I’m not twelve anymore, you can’t just make me hand you my things whenever you want,” Jia scoffs in return, adamant on her rebellious stance.

“Considering that I’m the one whose paying that phone bill every month, I wouldn’t exactly call it yours little lady,” Yeojin sternly furrows her brows while her hand continued to remain held out, her patience running on a thin line, “Jia if you don’t give me that phone then—”

“What?” she interrupts, challenging whatever her mother was going to say. With your newly profound headache growing by the second, you grab the keys to your small old Toyota, deciding that you weren’t going to be helping handle this on your birthday.

Their voices, which became nothing more than background noise while you grabbed your winter jacket, were brought back to your attention once you were making your way out the door.

“Mom where are you going?” Yeojin asks before you could run off, “It’s raining and you shouldn’t be driving at this hour of night.”

“And why is that?”

“Because Grandma you’re—” Jia suddenly chimes in, “well you’re um—” old, is what you know your granddaughter wants to say, but out of respect chooses not to.

You sigh, “I’m just going to the diner to grab myself a late night snack while you two continue with your useless arguing. Hopefully when I come back, you two will have realized how pointless these arguments are.”

“Mom—” Yeojin begins, but almost as if a lightbulb went off in her head, she suddenly grabs Jia’s phone while she was distracted in watching you leave, “Go with your grandma,” she commands, and Jia’s eyes immediately go wide.

“Hey you can’t just—” Jia’s about to complain until she sees the firm look on her mother’s face, “But—” she glances in your direction, knowing that just like her mom, she wouldn’t feel too good having you out driving this late at night, especially on a rainy day.

“You cried about getting your permit for months, now is the time to put it to use,” Yeojin sends her knowing look, recalling the number of months that Jia would complain about all of her classmates getting either their permits or license’s while she was still stuck taking the bus.

“Ugh,” she groans, “Fine, grandma wait for me in the car,” she ultimately says. After putting on her shoes, Jia begins to make her way out to the car, but not before her mother stops her midway to tell her to “Drive safe.”

“Mom, I know,” she scoffs, “but don’t expect me to spend hours there or something. We’re strictly going for whatever food she wants and back. No way in hell are we dining in.”

To that, Yeojin laughs. There was no way her mother wouldn’t want to dine in, but deciding she’d let Jia figure that out on her own, instead she says, “Well as long as you listen to whatever your grandma has to say to you then I don’t mind what time you come back.”

“That’s if she doesn’t put me to sleep first,” Jia mumbles to herself, but still loud enough for her mother to hear.

One could say, she wasn’t exactly looking forward to spending one on one time with her grandma, not without her phone at least. Of course that didn’t mean she didn’t love her grandma to death because truly she did, but often she found herself halfway asleep whenever she had long conversations with her. The same old endearing “you and your mother need to learn to communicate” or the “back in my day” conversations were quite repetitive.

“Mm, you need to start putting that attitude of yours under control little lady,” Yeojin shakes her head in disapproval, “I understand that your grandma can be a bit…”

“Boring,” Jia completes the sentence for her.

“Tedious,” Yeojin corrects, “at times, but occasionally she has an interesting story to tell here and there,” she chuckles, “so don’t count her out just yet. You may be surprised with whatever story she has prepared to tell.”

And with that all Jia could do was sigh, preparing for the long night ahead.

“Grandma, we’ve been here for like 2 hours now,” Jia complains, staring at you as you ate your BLT sandwich, the sound of both loud and pleased munches coming out of your mouth, “You’re really telling me you’re not full yet?”

With a mouthful of food in your mouth, you shake your head no. It isn’t until you gulp down your food that you’re able to verbally give a response, “You know I’m a slow eater, plus it’s my birthday. You don’t hear me complain on your birthday, do you?”

To that, Jia remained silent. She guessed you had a point, not like there was much left for an elderly lady like you to do. The least she could do was suck up her complaints, and deal with it. It just sucked that whenever she looked up at the wall clock it seemed like time was moving as slow as a snail.

God, how she should’ve somehow managed to take back her phone. It also didn’t help that those “stories” her mom had mentioned weren’t planning on making an appearance tonight because all you did was silently eat your food and stare out the window.

Honestly, Jia hadn’t expected much but it seemed as if today you were even quieter than usual, not even bothering to make the small conversation you usually did, like asking her how school was going or if she had a boyfriend yet (not that she ever responded truthfully). So in short, you were doing absolutely nothing to appease Jia’s boredom.

All Jia could do was tap her nails against the old diner’s table and observe the other late night foodies around you two.

The first person she noticed was a middle aged man who was eating a burger along with a strawberry shake. Based on his tiresome appearance and the hat he wore, she could only assume that he was most likely a trucker who needed to make a pit stop.

The second person she noticed was not a single person, but a group of three. A father, a mother, and their little daughter. The sight of them tugging slightly at her heart strings, reminding her of a time in her childhood before her parents’ divorce. If only she had appreciated those moments a little more while they were happening.

Deciding that she wasn’t in the mood for nostalgic sulking, she instead focused her attention on the last set of people in the diner. A couple, who was only a couple of feet away from you two, seated in one of the booths rather than at a table like Jia and you.

The young man, who Jia assumed was in his mid 20′s, was seated with a woman who was just as good looking as him. The two of them sat facing across from one another rather than besides each other, the serious look on their faces clearly signaling that whatever they were talking about was of importance.

It wasn’t until she took a clearer look at the woman that she realized she was crying, the sounds of her whimpers becoming clearer once she had taken note of the woman’s disheveled appearance. It looked like she had been crying for hours, her hand holding onto the man’s at the center of the table as if begging him to stay…

“Yejin we just can’t be together anymore,” Jia overhears the man say, and it’s only then that she realizes that the woman is begging him to stay.

“Jimin, all I’m asking is why?” she hears the woman plead, her voice sounding weak and defeated, “I just— I just don’t understand—” she manages to stutter the sentence out, “Does it have to do with what you were telling me the other night? About feeling incompenent with your career?”

He vigorously shakes his head no, prepared to deny the accusation, “No—”

But she’s quick to cut him off, “Because if it is,” she squeezes his hand tighter, “I already told you I don’t care. I don’t care if you’re the poorest or richest man on the planet, okay? As long as I’m with you, I just don’t care,” she repeats, “You’re my person Jimin,” the woman, who Jia now identified as Yejin, with whatever energy she had left, forced a small smile to grace upon her lips.

A small smile that spoke nothing but genuine love for the man across from her, but with eyes that were desperately hoping for a small sign that the man in front of her would break, “You’re all I have.”

The man, Jimin, instead of reciprocating the warm gesture, pulls his hands away, forcing himself to be the ultimate bad guy in this story.

This was for the best he reasoned with himself, not for him, but for her.

The woman in front of him who he loved so much that he couldn’t bear the thought of denying her a future where she’d have to worry everyday about what their future held, even if it meant not being with him,

“It’s for that reason that we can’t….” he clears his throat, “After tonight we’ll be nothing more than strangers.” he says in a voice that hid any feeling of despair he felt, saving the emotion for later when he was by himself.

“Please,” her voice breaks, “Jimin please,” a single teardrop falls from her eye, “Our future, it'll be worth it, I promise. Every stupid stubborn inch of it because as long as I’m by your side we’ll get through anything. And when we’re old and gray we’ll laugh about this stupid conversation—”

“Yejin—”

“No,” Yejin shakes her head vigorously, desperately fighting tooth and nail for her boyfriend of 7 years and her childhood friend of even more, the person she thought she’d been through it all with, “I refuse to—”

“Yejin!” he firmly interrupts her before she could continue, unsure of just how much more he could hear, “Look at me.” Fuck Yejin. Don’t do this to me. Just accept it., was all he could think at the moment, “I’m—” for a second he struggles to say the words, struggles to officially shatter the heart that had trusted him enough to show itself completely bare, “I’m doing this for me. I’m choosing me. And I don’t know what else I can say or do for you to realize that,” how disgusting it felt to spew the lies out of his mouth.

And it was once he said those words, that Yejin no longer fought against what was happening. It was then that Jimin knew, she had finally accepted it.

The two sat there in silence for what felt like an eternity, until Yejin grabbed her keys from the table, mustering the courage to be the first one to leave, but not before planting a soft kiss on top of Jimin’s head, a final gesture of good bye.

Jia, who’d witness the whole heartbreaking scene play out in front of her, struggled to tear her eyes away. But it was once she did, that she had noticed she wasn’t the only one who had paid attention to the break up.

Watching the couple, you looked as if you’d seen a ghost, truly at a loss for words. Never did you imagine you’d witness history repeat itself.

A voice breaks you away from your thoughts, “Grandma, are you okay?” Jia warily asks, concerned with why you looked so shocked.

“Oh,” you blink rapidly as if being brought back to reality, “Yeah, it’s just—” you glance at the booth once again, watching the man sulk in his seat.

His head was leaned against the glass window, dazedly looking at the view outside. By now his eyes were puffy, the emotions he had kept bottled in, now manifesting itself in the salty tears that were now silently falling down his face.

And before you could think twice, you grabbed the extra sandwich you had ordered and began to walk towards his booth, Jia following behind with a shocked expression.

“Grandma, what are you doing?!” she asks in a panicky tone, but before she could stop you from doing anything, you were already standing beside the booth the man was in.

The dirty-blonde haired man turns his attention towards the two of you, a worn out expression on his face.

“You seem like you could use this,” you offer him the sandwich with a warm smile on your face, “a young man like you shouldn’t be in such distress, or else you’ll end up with wrinkles like mine,” you try to joke around, an attempt to brighten the mood.

He lets out a forced chuckle, showing you that despite his down mood, he was still a very polite young man through and through.

“You don’t mind if we…” you stare at the seat across from him, signaling that you were hoping to sit.

He looks as if he wants to say no, shyly avoiding eye contact for a moment, unsure of how to reject a kind old woman.

“Oh it’s just that um—” but before he could spew out an excuse, you were already making yourself comfortable in the booth, your granddaughter hesitantly sitting in the spot next to him, still giving you the “What are you doing” eyes.

He feigns an awkward smile, scolding himself for being so timid. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the kind gesture, for any other day he would’ve been more than happy to receive a free BLT sandwich and make conversation with an elder, but tonight … well tonight he just wanted to sulk in his own misery.

“So what is a young man like you doing out here so late at night?” you ask, the closed eye smile on your face causing your wrinkles to protrude.

He remains silent, unsure of what to respond with, “Was that your girlfriend just now who left?” you boldly ask, the phrase “having a filter” clearly not in your dictionary.

“Grandma!” Jia frantically says, “Sir I’m sorry, we’ll leave now,” she forces an awkward laugh, now getting up from the booth, “she can be a bit pushy—”

“She’s my ex now,” he surprisingly answers, catching not only Jia but himself off guard.

You on the other hand remain with a warm sympathetic smile on your face.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure what came over him to be so straightforward. He’d been holding so much in for so long, he figured that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk to a random old lady and her granddaughter for a night. Not like he’d ever see them again, right?

Letting out a bitter scoff directed at himself, he continues, “I broke up with her just now Mrs—”

“Ms. y/l/n,” you correct him, “and this is my granddaughter Jia,” you signal to Jia to sit back down, and she watches the two of you with wary eyes, confused by the sudden conversational exchange between the two of you.

Hmm, well she did want to know why he broke up with his girlfriend, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just sit and listen for a bit. Shaking his hand, she seats herself once more.

“You don’t seem too happy about your break up, for someone who did the breaking that is…” you lightheartedly comment, secretly analyzing his tense posture. Though relaxing just a bit, it was clear that he still didn’t feel completely comfortable sharing the details of his private life. It wasn’t surprising really, you were nothing more than a stranger. It wasn’t like you expected him to be so open, not right away at least, “you don’t mind me asking why?”

“Because—” he pauses for a moment, trying to find the right words, “we—” he sighs, holding back, “we just weren’t meant to be,” he ultimately says with a small sad smile on his face.

You stare at him for what feels like an eternity, a frown now on your face.

“And what makes you say that?” you ask.

He gulps, the intense stare from both you and Jia now making him nervous, “Because she’s destined for greatness,” he longingly states, “and I was nothing more than an obstacle along the way even if she didn’t realize it,” he looks down at the table, “Because all I want in this world is for her to live a long happy life, a life where she can do anything she pleases whenever she wants, without a worry in the world,” he concludes, now sporting a dull expression.

“You—” you clench your teeth, almost looking at him in disgust, “You stupid boy,” you harshly mumble, but still loud enough for both him and Jia to hear.

“Grandma!” Jia’s eyes widen, taken aback by your sudden rude remark, but all you can do is continue to stare at the man in front of you, a pained expression on your face. Almost as if you wanted to cry.

Jimin on the other hand didn’t know what to make of your words. Was he offended? No, not really. Surprised? Couldn’t say he was. Was it deserved? He’d like to think so. “Look—” he’s about to say something until you interrupt him.

“What about you?” you demand pointedly, “Don’t you care about what you want? What about your happiness?” you feel your upper lip tremble along with a rush of emotions that you were sure you hadn’t felt in years.

Anger. Sadness. Fear.

Everything you had kept bottled in for so long was beginning to make its appearance all because you witnessed this young man break up with his girlfriend.

“Grandma I think we should g—”

“No,” you firmly state, your voice slightly trembling, “I’m not going to let it happen again, I can’t,” a single tear falls from your face as you come into eye contact with the young man. God, he looked so much like him.

Wiping the tear away, you quickly compose yourself, “I’m going to tell the two of you a story,” you point towards the boy, “and you better listen good and well,” you turn to your granddaughter, “you too little lady because it’s a lesson that can be learned by anyone.”

Her face twists to one of skepticism, but she silently nods her head, deciding she wasn’t going to push your buttons for she had never seen you act like this before. Jimin does the same as well, now fearing getting on your wrong side.

“Good,” you let out a deep breath of air, unsure of where to start.

This was the first time in your life that you were telling someone absolutely everything, and never had you imagined it’d be in this exact diner with some random stranger (who you’d just happen to be a first hand witness of his breakup) and your granddaughter.

But a part of you couldn’t help but think that maybe …just maybe it was meant to be this way. That coming to this diner and witnessing what you’d just seen was the universe’s way of telling you that just because your fate was already sealed, didn’t mean you couldn’t change someone else’s. And so you continue, “So I guess…” you pause, “I guess we should start at the beginning.”

“It was the year 1992, Nirvana had just released their all too famous album ‘Nevermind’ months prior to the new year, marking the first shift that we’d see in pop culture during the 90’s. People my age were beginning to slowly throw away their mousse bottles and bright colored outfits and opting in for a more toned down look of mom-jeans and oversized band shirts.

I had just turned 17 at the time and moved here to the city of Gwacheon because of my dad’s job. You wouldn’t believe me but back then this city we know now was a snooze fest. It was nothing but government official buildings and a vacant town center that played outdated music.

I remember being so bitter about moving because like any other teen who moved from one city to another, I had just barely begun to make friends in the city before, only to find out I’d have to leave months later.

I remember having a childish frown on my face the whole ride to the new neighborhood, convinced that by having a fit I’d somehow have my way and go back to the city before, but all in all that’s where the story begins…”

“Mom it’s just not fair!” you complain, crossing your arms while leaning your head against the window, watching as the new town you’d have to learn to call home was nearing with every stop, “I was just beginning to get used to that school, I was even supposed to go on a date!”

Sighing, your mom turns from the passenger's seat to face you, a mix of sympathy and annoyance on her face. It’d been over 4 hours already of hearing you complain in the car, and though your dad had learned to mute you out from the driver’s seat, your mom had to endure each and every complaint.

“Y/N you know your dad’s job requires him to move around from time to time, it’s something out of our control, unless you’re magically going to find him a job out there that pays him as much as his current one then be my guest,” she stares at you knowingly, while you stay silent.

She furrows her brows once she notices something about your appearance, “And what did I tell you about lining your lips like that? And that thing around your neck you’re wearing, you’re lucky it hasn’t suffocat—”

“It’s called a choker and everyone my age wears them mom,” you roll your eyes, wanting this conversation to be over now, despite it being you who started it, “times are changing meaning fashion is too.”

“I thought you kids liked the whole poofy hair and leg warmers kind of stuff. And that one man who's always on MTV,” she twiddles her fingers, trying to remember his name, “you know the one who danced as a zombie in that one video, how does it go again—” she begins to snap her fingers, humming the tune, “cause this is Thriller,” she sings.

“Michael Jackson mom, Michael Jackson,” you answer in annoyance, how the hell did she not know his name?

“Ahh that’s his name,” she laughs, “I’m sorry I’m not so invested in that kind of stuff like you young people are.”

You roll your eyes at this, “Mom I’m sure even grandma knows who Michael Jackson is, you’re just—” but before you could go on any further, the car suddenly comes to a halt.

“And here we are,” your dad finally speaks, an exhausted sigh coming out of his mouth.

The moving truck, which was following right behind you guys had made its stop as well and while your parents immediately stepped out the car to begin attending to the family things, you just looked at your new home in a mix of dismay and surprise. It was definitely a nice home, it’s resemblance to the houses around you being a bit uncanny.

Suddenly, interrupting your deep thinking, your car door opens.

Your mom, who for some reason had a complete 180 turn in attitude, now had an impatient look on her face along with an eyebrow raised. “You’re either going to help your dad take out our things or you’re coming with me to introduce ourselves to the neighbors.”

You stare at her for a moment, thinking to yourself which one you wanted to do. Though still slightly pissed off at your dad for his sudden bomb drop of news that you were all moving, you weren’t exactly in the mood to be social right now, let alone with your new neighbors as it would just ultimately mean having to accept the reality of your situation. “I think I’ll just—”

“Come with me? Great,” your mom answers for you, and you only groan in irritation. You couldn’t say you were shocked as this was only expected from her.

Getting out of the car, you begin to follow her to the next door neighbor’s house on the left side of your new home, your mom having come to the conclusion that the neighbors on the right side must’ve not been home due to the lack of cars in the driveway, “And remember y/n, be nice,” she reminds you, noticing the family SUV parked outside the house, she adds, “and who knows maybe there’s someone your age you can make friends with here.”

You stay silent, not sure if whether finding someone your age living inside the house would be a good or bad thing.

At your last house, there was a girl your exact same age who despite being a very kind person, was just a little too talkative. You’d often randomly find her in your room after learning that your mom let her in because she thought that “that’s what teen girls like to do right? Gossip and cut up some magazines in their room.” Not only would you find yourself getting migraines all the time but you were just too nice to kick her out.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The muffled sound of what you could only assume were kids running around and things being thrown made you mumble “Oh great,” to yourself. If your mom got friendly with the neighbors like she somehow always did, you’d find yourself babysitting these kids sometime in the future for free.

Minutes pass and nothing.

Personally you took that as a sign of ‘do not disturb’ but your mom, being the relentless person she was, knocked one more time.

“Mom clearly they don’t want to—” and of course just as you were about to convince her to leave, the sound of the kids screaming and laughing comes to a sudden halt and the door swings wide open.

There in front of you stood a middle-aged woman, probably near your mom’s age, who had her hair completely disheveled and one of her kids (a little girl) in her arms while the other (a little boy) gripping onto her right leg like a sloth holding onto a branch.

Despite her stressed appearance, there was still a sense of motherly tidiness to her. “Hello,” your mom greets with a grin on her face, “we just came to introduce ourselves as your new next door neighbors,” she sticks her hand out for the woman to shake, “I’m y/m/n.”

The woman, who looks a bit confused at first, suddenly snaps back to reality with a “Ohh” expression on her face remembering that the house aside from her having its “For Sale” sign removed not too long ago.

She’s quick to shake your mom’s hand in return, “Kim Yerin,” she smiles, “and these are my twins, Minjun and Yeonha. Say hi you two,” she nudges the little girl in her arms who currently had her head rested on her mother’s shoulder while doing the same to the boy wrapped around her leg.

The two, clearly shy in front of strangers, only stare at the two of you with curious eyes, “And this must be your daughter I assume,” the woman faces her attention towards you, who had just been quietly watching the exchange, and waits for you to introduce yourself.

Your face slightly reddens when you feel your mother nudge you, “Y/N,” your introduction comes out as more of a whisper.

“And how old are you?” she curiously asks.

“Just turned seventeen,” you answer, an awkward smile forming on your face.

And as if a lightbulb suddenly went off on her head, a huge grin appears on her face, “You’re my older sons age,” she chuckles, “I don’t know if he’s come back home yet,” she mumbles looking behind her and your nerves begin to rise as you know what she’s about to do, “Seokjin!” she yells loud enough that her voice echoes across the walls of her home, “Give me a moment,” she flashes you two a smile before slightly closing the door, placing her foot in the ridge in order to create a crack so that it wouldn’t be completely closed. “Seokjin!” she calls for her son again, and soon you hear the sound of feet scuffling down the stairs.

“You and that camcorder, we have guests,” you hear her say.

“Say hiiii,” a voice behind the door says and you soon hear the kids giggle.

Yerin opens the door all the way once again, and to your surprise you come to face a tall boy with a camcorder blocking most of his face.

With the lens facing your direction, a whispered “Woah,” then comes out of his mouth. The sound of the lens zooming in causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

“Seokjin,” his mother says more harshly, making him set the camera down and finally reveal his face. And once he did… wow were you surprised.

Though he was sporting what you considered an outdated mullet, the boy was relatively handsome. Currently dressed in a simple black fitted long sleeve shirt and cuffed blue jeans, the young man stuck his hand out for you to shake, a small smile gracing his lips.

“Seokjin but you can call me Jin for short,” he politely introduces himself.

Awkwardly avoiding eye contact, you return the shake, “Y/N.”

“Seokjin, I was just telling y/n here that you two are the same age, maybe you could show her around school this Monday,” she suggests, and your mom is quick to chime in.

“Maybe he can show her around town right now, I’m sure she’d love that, wouldn’t you y/n? That’s if he can of course,” she adds and your eyes widen at the suggestion. Soon it becomes apparent that both you and Jin are feeling flustered at both your mothers’ intrusiveness.

“I d-d—” you stutter.

“Mom…” he begins, his ears reddening. Unbeknownst to you, you’d soon find out that it was something that only occurred whenever he was nervous.

“I’ll even lend you the car this one time,” his mother says, grabbing the keys from the key rack next to door and handing them to him.

A silence momentarily fills the air, awkwardness seeping deep until Mrs. Kim breaks it, “Well go you two! me and Mrs….”

“Y/L/N,” your mom completes for her.

“Will be here drinking tea inside and waiting for you to return,” she gently pushes Jin, who had just put on his Converse, out the door while your mom begins to make her way inside, “And remember to drive safe Seokjin,” she says for a final time before practically slamming the door shut.

The two of you stand there for what feels like forever, staring at anything but each other’s eyes.

“Sorry about that, my mom can be a bit… pushy,” he says, and you want to tell him that it's fine, that your mom is exactly the same, but the words can’t seem to come out. “So…” he mumbles, barely audible to the ear, “Where should we go first?” he asks fiddling with keys in his hands, which only causes you to look at him in confusion. Did he forget you weren’t from here?

“Um…” you say, and slowly he fits the puzzle pieces and realizes what exactly he had asked.

“Oh right,” he awkwardly laughs, scratching the back of his neck as a nervous gesture.

You notice that he’s still holding his camcorder with the other hand, its small red button still glowing, and so out of nowhere you voice the first question that came to your mind.

“Is that thing still recording?” you ask which averts his attention to the grey bulky object in his hand.

“Oh I must’ve forgot to turn it off,” he says, genuinely surprised at his lousy mistake, “My bad,” he adds and you shake your head in a way to say that it was fine. “So … are you hungry?” he kindly asks, and you think to yourself for a moment … the two of you had to go somewhere as it wasn’t like you could just walk right back in and lie.

Gently, you shrug your shoulders, “Yeah I can go for something to eat,” you say, which by now was the longest sentence he’d heard you speak since your introduction to him.

“Great,” he smiles, making his way towards the Hyundai SUV with you following close behind. To your surprise he walks over to your side and opens the door “like a gentleman” before entering the car himself. You mumble a quiet “thank you,” in return.

It’s once he turns on the ignition that you begin to dread the awkwardness inside the car. It wasn’t that you weren’t a social person because truly you were, or at least you always tried to be. You were just never good at initiating conversations first because honestly, who was? The image of your mom immediately came to your mind, but she was different. That lady could spark a conversation with a plant if she really wanted to.

“And here’s the number one song in the country for a third week straight, Emotions by Mariah Carey!” the radio host announces and soon the famous tune begins to play causing Jin to tap his finger against the driving wheel, clearly a fan of the song.

You on the other hand kept your attention on the view outside, noting how boring this town was. From the dull buildings to the empty streets, everything was just so boring. But you couldn’t complain too much, for in a couple of months from now you’d be well off on your way to a college in the city of Seoul, which even though it wasn’t too far from here, it was still much more populated.

“So y/n,” Jin lowers the music down, “where did you move from?” he asks, an attempt at making conversation while driving.

“Buk district in Busan,” you answer in a short and precise manner.

“Oh…” he simply says, “Did you like it over there?”

The delivery of the question causes you to quietly chuckle to yourself, “Yeah I did,” you smile to yourself remembering the friends you had made over there, but almost immediately you remember that any chance of ever seeing them again was long gone, and a frown soon replaces the small smile.

Jin notices the change in facial expression from you, “Well I’m sure you’ll like it around here,” he attempts to comfort you, “I know things may look a little different, hell maybe even a little boring,” he laughs, “but trust me you’ll learn to love this place,” he flashes you a reassuring smile.

To that you could only feign a look of happiness. Not wanting to be a complete asshole, you try and think of something you could ask him, something to spark a conversation like he was trying to.

“It’s Jin right… “ you ask, and to that he nods, “um…” you hum, “how old are your siblings?” you stifly ask, adding an extra comment at the end, “I heard them being pretty um … hyper… before my mom knocked.”

Immediately a smile appears on his face, “Ahh Minjun and Yeonha,” he chuckles, “they’re four but turning five in a couple of months. They’re a handful,” he jokes around, “but we wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says, referring to him and the rest of his family.

“And they’re your only siblings?”

He nods, shrugging while answering, “Yeah, but I always wanted siblings growing up and so to not only get one but two at the same time was pretty cool,” he glances at you, “what about you?”

You nod your head no, “My mom told me that once she had me and dealt with all the sleepless nights due to me crying all the time, that she knew one was enough,” you manage to joke around, the atmosphere in the car now becoming less tense.

“I think my parents thought the same way, but surprises happen,” he laughs, “I mean it’s probably a good thing that I was pretty old when they were born. It meant an extra set of hands to help around the house especially considering my dad’s always working.”

And at the mention of his father you couldn’t help but grow a little curious. He was the only person you hadn’t been introduced to and despite Jin’s mother being an overall gorgeous woman, you assumed that Jin must’ve gotten his most prominent features from his dad as his mother didn’t really resemble him.

“What does he work in?” you continue the flow of the conversation.

“He’s a finance manager for one of the many corporation companies you’ll find around here,” and to that he frowns, “I’m assuming your dad must work in a similar field.”

You look at the window again, “Yeah,” you sigh, “so I guess a lot of people around here work in the business field.”

“I think that’s what causes this place to be a little boring sometimes,” he comments, focusing on the road in front of him, “The lack of creativity,” and by looking at the buildings and overall aura of the town, you understand what he means, “People here already have expectations set on them, and with the pressure of being successful, no one ever really takes the risk of pursuing what they’re really passionate about.”

“Hm,” you hum, unsure of what to add to that, for Jin had hit the nail on its head.

“Butttttt,” he sings, “when you meet people like me you’ll realize not everyone around here is the same,” and with that he piques your curiosity, the car suddenly coming to a halt.

Looking out the window, you notice you’re in front of an old school diner, it’s neon lights currently turned off because of the daylight. Not that it really mattered, as the bright cherry red and blue color painted walls were definitely enough to grab anyone’s attention.

Through the see through glass you notice a group of guys sitting at one of the booths, staring at the two of you as you both exited the car. A mixture of both excitement (which you assumed was directed at Jin) and confusion (which was probably directed on you) on their faces.

“Come on, follow me,” Jin says, leading you inside to the group of boys who looked around your age.

They’re quick to greet Jin, practically shouting his name across the diner. It must’ve been a regular occurrence because none of the waiters even turned to focus their attention on them, “Somehow I knew you guys would be here,” Jin teases.

One of the boys rolls their eyes, “So are you going to introduce us to your new lady friend?” he smiles, and immediately the spotlight is set on you, both you and Jin standing in front of their booth.

“Y/N this is Yoongi,” Jin points at the boy who asked the daring question, “This is Taehyung,” he points at the boy next to him, “and finally this is Namjoon,” he points at the final boy across from them, “You guys this is y/n. She just moved here from Busan.”

“Ahh Busan!” the black haired boy, Taehyung, says excitedly, “I once had a pen pal from there,” he trivially says causing the other boys to laugh.

“Ahh Taehyung and his pen pals,” Yoongi shakes his head, tapping the boys shoulders, “And how did that one out of the many turn out?” he asks in a joking manner, only causing Taehyung to pout, knowing Yoongi was teasing him.

“Hmm,” he groaned, “It’s only been a couple of months without a reply, that doesn’t mean we’re not friends anymore!”

“Yeah Yeah Yeah,” Yoongi rolls his eyes again, scooting to the side to make space for you, “Well don’t just stand there, sit,” he lightly teases, and you glance at Jin as if to confirm if it was okay to do so. He smiles at your shyness, confident that you’d get along with his friends just fine, it’d just take some warming up on your part until then.

Setting his camcorder down on the table, he takes a seat next to Namjoon while you take yours next to Yoongi and Taehyung.

“So y/n,” Namjoon speaks up, “how are you liking it here so far?” But before you can think of a response, Jin answers for you.

“She literally just moved here,” he glances at the clock on the wall, “like an hour ago,” he laughs, “I don’t even think she’s unpacked her stuff.”

“Well don’t expect too much,” Yoongi says, contradicting what Jin had told you earlier, “this place is a snooze fest!” he dramatically adds, only causing Jin to nudge him with his leg from under the table, “Hey it's true, if it weren’t for you guys I’d be dying of boredom all the time.”

“Which is exactly why we need to show y/n the best spots in town to visit and how to have some fun,” Jin declares and to that, the boys shrug, not minding the new addition to their group.

“Well wasn’t that easy,” you think to yourself, it seemed making friends wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be.

“As long as you’re not some kind of party pooper then—”

“Like there's parties in town to even poop at,” Taehyung interrupts causing Yoongi to look at him with a “Huh?” expression making everyone including yourself laugh out loud.

“You do realize it’s not literal—” but before he could continue, Yoongi raises his hand to cover his face, “You and that camera Jin,” and immediately you follow suit, having failed to notice that Jin had turned on his camcorder. Taehyung instead of covering his face, poses by flashing two peace signs, while Namjoon flashed his dimpled smile once the camera was pointed to him.

“Ahh why do you feel the need to record everything?” Yoongi asks, still covering his face.

“You’ll thank me later,” Jin says, “Come on y/n say hiiii,” he begins to near the camera to your face.

“Does he always do this?” you ask his friends around him, and to that they nod.

“He says it’s his practice for becoming a director in the future, but….” Namjoon playfully scoffs, “I don’t see the point in recording absolutely everything.”

“Because I want to make sure when I find the project I want to create, I’ll have all the film I need.” Slowly you take your hands off your face once you notice he wasn’t going to relent anytime soon, “Come on, you know you wanna smileeee,” he sings, and slowly but surely you smile indeed. An awkward one, but a smile nonetheless.

“Well cheers to a new friendship,” Taehyung flashes you his signature boxy smile, raising his milkshake drink in the air, Namjoon and Yoongi imitating the action. You and Seokjin on the other hand create an imaginary motion as if you had drink in your hands, grateful for the blossoming friendship in the making.

“After that first day in Gwacheon, Seokjin along with his friends showed me the best spots in town, whether it was somewhere to eat or somewhere to simply get a good view, they were showing me things that proved the boring town to be different than what it seemed.

Seokjin would especially be eager to show me his favorite spots, always recording my reactions to first time meals or whenever he’d show me a new location. When I’d ask him why, he’d tell me it was because it was like watching a kid eat candy for the first time.

Soon I’d find myself hanging out with him the most, I’m not sure if it was because we were next door neighbors or maybe it was because he was my first friend here, but it wasn’t like I was complaining. It seemed as if with every time we hung out, I was learning something new about him, never a day too dull…”

“You’re not even blowing into it,” Jin complains, watching as you blew air into the Mario game cartridge, your face getting red at your serious effort, “Let me see,” he says, but to that you stubbornly refuse, continuing to blow heavy puffs of air into it.

For the past hour the two of you had been playing his new Mario game on the Nintendo SNES, but out of nowhere the game completely blacked out.

Suspecting that there must have been built-up dust in the cartridge, you took it as your responsibility to blow air into it.

“Fine,” you hiss, passing him the game.

“Ah don’t be like that either,” he teases, squeezing your cheek with his hand.

“Hey!” you cry out and he raises his hands to his defense.

“Sorry I can’t help it,” he laughs, “they’re just so…” he pauses, “squeezable?”

You flip him off, only making him laugh even more, “Just fix the game already,” you mumble, not actually offended, but pretending to be which he of course was used to by now.

Knock. Knock.

“Seokjinnieeee!” the sound of his younger sister’s voice, Yeonha, fills the room. Immediately she goes to tackle him, and Jin (pretending that she was stronger than him) playfully throws himself on the floor only causing her to go into a fit of giggles.

Then out of nowhere you feel tiny arms wrap themselves around your shoulders, “Y/Nieeee,” Minjun blitzes you from behind, a grin now appearing on your face.

With his arms still wrapped around your shoulders, you get up from the floor and begin to run around the room, pretending to be an airplane soaring across the sky.

“Do that too! Do that too!” Yeonha commands Seokjin, forcibly wrapping her arms around his very broad shoulders.

And soon the two of you find yourselves going at “war” with one other, purposely missing each other whenever it’d look like you two would crash as a scare effect for the kids.

By the time you two were all done, you were out of breath and completely exhausted. “Again, again, again!” you hear the two kids squeal, but you were just way too tired to go at it a second time.

Feigning a sad expression on your face, you say, “I’m sorry, I have to be back for dinner soon at my house, but next time I see you I promise you we’ll do that again for you guys.”

Both of the kids, with a saddened expression on their faces, simultaneously go “Aww.” but completely understand, knowing you were never one to falsify your promises.

“Wait you do?” Seokjin asks, completely believing your lie. Glaring at him, you wink at him in a knowing way, and though it takes him a while, he quietly says “Ohh.” once he understands. Scratching the back of his neck, he says, “How bout I walk you out haha,” he innocently smiles with his eyes closed.

“Byeeee Y/N,” the kids say, their attention already on something else.

Waving goodbye, you and Jin make your way downstairs, greeted by his mom, who had used to the time that you two spent playing with kids to make dinner,

“Already leaving Y/N?” she asks when she spots your backpack in your hand, “I made japchae, I’m sure your mom wouldn’t mind you staying for dinner,” she kindly suggests, but you politely nod your head no.

“It’s fine Mrs. Kim,” you say, “I don’t want to lessen the servings any more than I should.”

“You sure I can always—” she’s about to say something until she meets Jin’s expression, which was one of panic. Subtly he was nodding his head in a way to say that she should drop it, not only his ears, but his face becoming red. Softly chuckling to herself, she drops the subject, “Ahh well have a good night y/n.”

“Goodnight Mrs. Kim,” you dismiss yourself, Jin following right behind you as you make your way out the door.

“Whew I sure am tired,” you say once you hear the door behind you close, now standing on his front porch, the sun beginning to set, “We didn’t even get to work on our calculus homework,” you mention, feigning a chuckle.

Jin shrugs, “I doubt we were gonna work on it either way,” he laughs changing the topic, “So y/n um…” he pauses, feeling a lump in his throat form as he nervously rocked back and forth, “I’ve been wanting to ask you something I just don’t know how you’ll react…”

You look at him with a genuine clueless expression on your face. Moments of silence pass before you respond, “Well go on ahead,” you laugh, “you know you can tell me anything,” you smile at him.

And for a moment it feels as if the words can’t come out, the fear of being denied overwhelming the feeling of hope, “Um well…” he gulps, “you know it’s been a couple of months since you moved here and well…” he avoids eye contact with you, “I feel like I see you all the time…” he continues, and for a small second you become scared … Did you do something? Did he no longer ever wanna see you again? With that thought, you feel your stomach drop, “And well I wanted to tell you that I—”

“Oh y/n honey, you forgot your notebook!” Jin’s mom suddenly opens the door, interrupting the moment and catching the both of you by surprise.

Jin immediately shoots his mom a “What are you doing?” look, but it seems like she didn’t catch onto it as she continued having a huge smile on her face. Oh what a kind … oblivious … woman she could be sometimes.

“O-oh,” you stutter, still in a state of surprise at her sudden intrusion, “Um thank you Mrs. Kim, um I should get going!” you awkwardly laugh, “Um I’ll see you at school tomorrow Jin!” you wave goodbye, practically running back to your house. The last thing you hear before closing your own door was the sound of Jin groaning, “Moooom!”

“Ah y/n you made it just in time for dinner,” your own mother greets you, “For a moment I thought you’d spend dinner with the Kims’ for another night,” she teases, causing a ferocious blush to appear on your cheeks.

“What makes you say that?” you mumble while avoiding eye contact, only causing her to send you a knowing look.

Deciding she’d play along with your oblivious act this once, she shrugs, “Hmm I don’t know, maybe because there’s a special someone you like in that house of theirs.”

Your blush deepens.

“Not true,” is all you can muster, “We’re just close friends, that’s all,” you state, but deep down you knew you could only wish for more.

“Mmm well y/n, time is ticking,” she playfully sings, “if you don’t confess soon, who knows when you’ll get the chance once you’re off at college. Just ask your dad, he had to wait 4 years until I came back to our hometown to confess. Isn’t that right y/f/n?” she turns to your dad, who was currently watching Cheers on the television.

Getting up from the couch, he makes his way over to you two, “What’s this about a boy I’m hearing?” he turns on his “Protective Dad” persona.

To that, you roll your eyes, “Dad,” you laugh as he ruffles your hair, placing a kiss to your forehead, “I need to go do my homework,” you announce, needing an excuse to get to your room and out of this conversation.

Your mom narrows her eyes at you, knowing exactly what you were doing but choosing to act dumb about it, “Then what are you doing here young lady, go get to it!” she commands, watching you immediately turn and make your way up the stairs.

“Ah kids these days,” your mom says under her breath, shaking her head in amusement, silently rooting for the two of you.

“I wouldn’t find out that Jin was trying to confess to me that night until a couple of years later in some random conversation, and when I tell you there were several other attempts on both his part and mine to confess, I really mean it. But it was almost as if the universe was waiting for the right moment to let it happen. I just never would’ve thought that the moment would be one so …. unexpected ….”

“So how is he?” you ask Jin’s mother, placing the care basket you made for Jin on his dining table.

“Well you know it is,” she laughs, “no parent really wants to see their kid high off of anesthesia, especially because he’s just been talking complete nonsense for the past hour and refusing to take a nap. But I prefer this than having him walk around with his wisdom teeth aching him.”

You nod your head in understanding, “You don’t mind if I—” and she nods her head yes, understanding what you were insinuating.

“Go for it,” she smiles, “he’ll probably scold me tomorrow for allowing you to see him in that state, but I’m sure he’ll get over it,” she chuckles.

And without a moment of hesitation, you make your way up the stairs and into his room, the first thing you hear is your name being loudly shouted.

“Y/N!” he slurs out your name, his high pitched laughter following right after.

A grin immediately appears on your face as you watch the boy who even though was usually in a joking mood most of the time, now had that same mood heightened because of the anesthesia.

You take a seat on the corner of his bed, “How are you feeling Jin?” you ask, genuinely wanting an answer.

He shoots you a toothy grin and gives you not one, but two thumbs up, “I’m feeling amaaaazinnggg,” he sings, “especially now that you’re here,” he dramatically winks.

You feel your face redden, “This is the effects of the anesthesia,” you tell yourself, not allowing yourself to have false hope.

“Y/N Y/N Y/N,” he hums, “you’re so prettyyyyyy,” he stammers his words, his swollen cheeks making it hard to take him seriously.

“Really? You think?” you go along with him, to which he nods.

“Veryyyyy,” he adds, “too bad I can’t completely see you!” he exclaims, only causing your brow to quirk in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t see you!” he repeats in a sardonic tone, almost as if you were dumb for not understanding. It isn’t until you notice that the bangs of his mullet, which was usually parted, were now prickling at his eyes, probably causing his view of you to be blocked by certain strands of hair.

Laughing to yourself, you grab one of the hairpins you had on and scoot closer to him, carefully clipping his bangs to the side, “Ta da,” you giggle at Jin’s childlike expression, “Now you can see me,” you say.

“Now I can see you,” he repeats in awe, and maybe it was because of the effects of the anesthesia but for some reason you looked much more ethereal than usual. Suddenly, out of nowhere Jin grabs his camera from the bed stand, and you look at him in amazement.

You let out a breath of disbelief, “How is it that even when you’re high off of anesthesia, you still somehow manage to pull out that camera of yours?” you ask him.

“Because y/n, 50 years from now the world needs to know how pretty you areeeee,” he looks at you like a lovestruck fool, his eyes halfway closed as he points the lens in your direction.

“Who would’ve thought that Jin could be such a flirt?” you think to yourself.

“I’m not!” Jin pouts, and it’s only then that you realize you must’ve said the thought out loud, “I’m only flirty with you because I like youuuuu,” he gushes.

“Jin you don’t know what you’re saying,” you blink slowly, not sure whether to believe the words coming out of his mouth.

“Oh but I do!” he barks back like a toddler, “I’ve been trying to confess to you for sooooooo long but I get interrupted EACH. AND. EVERY. TIME,” he complains, and suddenly you feel your heart pound ten times faster, an idiotic smile now forming on your face, “like seriously, every time I get the courage to finally fess up, something just has to happen,” he rambles on, now turning off the camera, something you take note of.

Affectionately, you play with some of the strands of his hair from the back, watching him yawn in the process, “Come on silly boy, I think it’s time for you to sleep,” and surely he does in no time, his soft snores filling the room.

It’s only then that you grab a post-it note from his desk, scribbling something you were sure he’d read the next day. Happily making your way downstairs, excited for what was to come.

That same night when Jin groggily woke up from his nap, he was confused as to why he had a glitter hair pin in his hair, and why his camera had a post-it note attached to it on his wooden desk. Grabbing the camera, he immediately recognized the handwriting.

‘check your footage from yesterday, you can thank me later xx. y/n.’

And it was once he did that he could’ve swore he felt his eyes go as wide as saucers, his mouth gaping completely open. “I-I confessed,” he says to himself, unsure of whether he really believed it or not, “I confessed!” he repeats to himself, this time much more confident and enthusiastic about it.

Deciding he had no time to waste, he quickly ran down his stairs, his mom confusingly staring at him as he began to grab his jacket and shoes, “And where do you think you’re going?” she asks.

“Mom, I confessed!” he excitedly shouts before slamming the door behind him shut, ready to knock on your door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Oh Jin!” your mother greets him, amused by his swollen right cheek, “What a surprise,” she chuckles.

“Hello Mrs. Y/L/N,” he respectfully greets, “any chance y/n’s here?” he politely asks, hoping you were home.

Based on the excited look on Jin’s face she could only imagine that he had only good news to share, and so she didn’t hesitate to call you down, “Y/N!” she shouts, and as if you were waiting for it, your bedroom door opens without a second even passing.

Quickly you make your way down, your mom already having a sense as to what was going to happen by the excited expression on both of your faces. Closing the door once you made your way out, she immediately presses her ear against it.

“Y/N,” Jin breathes out, “I-I confe-OW,” he loudly groans, completely forgetting about his mouth still being sore from the procedure, only causing you to laugh. Even now the universe was finding ways to delay the inevitable.

“You confessed,” you instead say for him, and he nods excitedly, holding his mouth in pain. But it’s only then that he realizes … just because he confessed didn’t mean you automatically felt the same way.

His face reddens.

Ready to make a dash for it, you grab his hand before he could. A touching smile now on your face, “I like you too,” you say, squeezing his hand in reassurance. And immediately you see the relief wash over him, his tense shoulders relaxing.

“I’d kiss you, but I don’t think I can move my lips,” he manages to mumble out, the sudden jolt of pain minutes earlier now making it hard for him to talk.

You giggle at this, then tippy toeing and placing a peck to his lips, deciding that it’d be enough to satisfy the two of you. And without notice your mom opens the door, making the two of you jump in surprise.

“Awwwww, finally!” she pretends to weep, and you’re quick to furrow your brows.

“Mom!”

“And so that was the exact moment our friendship had officially blossomed into something more… I had officially fallen in love with the boy next door. And so we spent the rest of the school year doing whatever it is high school couples do. The occasional hand holding here and there, the timid kisses, but most importantly… despite there now being a shift in our relationship, we still spoke to one another like the best of friends we were before. Because at the end of the day he was still just the boy next door.

But of course soon we’d find ourselves having to confront the looming topic over our heads … college.”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The door opens.

“It arrived,” you frantically say to the boy in front of you, an envelope in your hand. He motions for you to come in, his heart now beating as fast as yours.

Sitting down on the dining chair, you watch as he runs up the stairs to his room in order to grab the envelope that had arrived at his house a day prior to yours.

The sealed envelopes, which read ‘Seoul National University” in a big blue font along with its famous logo stamped onto it were now being held by your guys’ jittery fingers.

“When are they getting here?” you ask Jin, who had just seated himself.

Glancing at his watch, he answers, “Any second now,” his foot bounces up and down out of nervousness, “I told them to be here an hour earlier than planned because I knew they’d get here late,” he says, patting himself in the back for his trick.

“Well they need to get here faster,” you complain, tapping your nails against the table.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Finally,” you groan, watching the rest of your friends walk into Jin’s kitchen.

“Sorry we caught traffic,” Taehyung lies, munching on his last fry.

You roll your eyes at the poor attempt, ”You’re such a bad liar,” you say, deciding not to press him any further on the issue. “Let’s just get to opening these things.”

The boys nod, taking a final deep breath in, ready to rip open the envelopes.

“Wait,” Jin suddenly demands, “Let me set the camera,” and immediately he’s met with dramatic eye rolls and groans, but you guys allow him to do so nonetheless. “Okay you guys, remember whatever the results are behind these, we all have to promise ourselves that it won’t change anything. It doesn’t make anyone better than the rest, and we’ll all certainly still be friends in college,” he says and you all nod in agreement, for a moment forgetting that whatever the results were inside your envelopes, you’d all still remain friends no matter what.

“Okay, 1..2...3,” you count down, and at the same time you all pull out your decision letters.

“I got in!” Namjoon yells excitedly.

“Me too!” Taehyung says after him, a grin on his face.

“Holy shit, me too,” Yoongi repeats after him.

“Me as well,” Seokjin says nonchalantly, not exactly caring for his acceptance but more about yours as he immediately turns his attention towards you.

Having watched you stay up late studying for the entrance exams for the past couple of weeks, he knew just how nervous you were about these letters and as both your boyfriend and your friend, he couldn’t help but root for you much more than himself.

But it’s once he sees the saddened expression on your face that he knows …

“Y/N…” Taehyung whispers in sadness.

“I—” you slouch your shoulders, looking away from their gazes, “I didn’t get in,” you murmur, your voice signaling that you were on the verge of crying.

Jin is quick to turn off the camera and goes to wrap his arms around you, placing a soft kiss on top of your head and softly rubbing your back in an effort to comfort you. He sends a look to the boys as if to say he thinks it’d be best for them to leave, for now at least.

They nod in understanding, beginning to make their way out until they hear you say “Wait!” and at an attempt to ease the tension, you try and hide the sadness in your voice, “Congratulations, truly,” you send them a weak smile before they leave, and they send you a small smile in return, sad that their friend didn’t get into the college of their dreams.

“Hey don’t cry,” Jin comforts you, giving you more pecks on top of your head, feeling his heart swell more and more by the second.

“I thought I worked so hard,” you sniffle, the tears slowly falling down your cheeks.

“Hey don’t say that! You did work hard princess,” he scolds you, pulling you into a tight hug and tipping your chin up so that he could look at you properly, a soft look on his face while he brushed your hair away from your face, “That stupid school doesn’t know what they’re missing out on, you hear me?” He squeezes your cheek when you don’t reply, “Heyyyyyyyy, don’t ignore meeee,” he teases, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

All you can do is roll your eyes once you feel your cheeks get hot, damn him and his everlasting effect on you. “My dad’s going to be so disappointed,” you mumble, already dreading the conversation. The sole reason you even wanted to get into that school was to impress him, to make him feel that he didn’t have to worry about your future.

“No he’s not,” Jin states in confidence, and you look at him in curiosity, “because your dad is nothing like mine,” he jokes, reassuring you, “Because I’m sure that for both your mom and dad, as long as you’re happy and pursuing whatever it is you want to, they’ll be more than happy to support you along the way.”

“You think so?” you ask him, a small pout on your lips.

“Ah I know so princess,” he gives you a small comforting smile, “Come on let’s watch a movie and eat some popcorn before you go home. I just bought Goodfellas on VHS the other day,” he says, leading you to the living room, the heavy feeling that had been weighing down your chest, not so heavy anymore.

“And so that night I told my parents the decision SNU had made, and just like Jin said they were completely supportive, not even the slightest disappointed. Luckily, the college that did accept me was not at all far away from Seoul National University meaning Jin and I did not have to worry about a ‘long distance relationship’ because trust me, a long distance relationship in the 90s was even ten times more harder to manage than how you kids have it today with your phones.

Honestly, our first year in college passed by in the blink of an eye. I’m not sure if it's because I was always with Jin and our group of friends running around in a big old city with so many more different things to explore, but by the time we reached our second year, we were beginning to ask ourselves where time was going by…. “

“Cheers to our first year!” you and the boys lift up your drinks of Soju, clinking the bottles as a way of commemorating your first successful year in college.

Laughter fills the air while you all talk about the good and the bad of college, from the nightmare drunk stories to typing last minute essays on a jammed computer inside the library. “To think we were all panicking about how we’d do,” Yoongi says, shaking his head.

“I know, but now we have to start declaring our majors soon,” Taehyung mentions, “I still don’t know whether I want to major in sociology or psychology…”

“Me neither, I’ve been leaning towards linguistics,” Namjoon adds, “What about you y/n?” he asks you.

You think about it for a moment before answering, “Engineering Physics.”

“Woah,” Namjoon looks at you in shock, “Good luck to you,” he jokingly scoffs.

You shrug, a certain glimmer appearing in your eyes as you make eye contact with him, “Don’t you find it interesting? The possibilities of there being more than one universe out there, different dimensions, hell maybe even a parallel universe!” you say in excitement, clearly passionate about the field, “Namjoon there’s probably hundreds of you who like to pick their nose just like you!” you throw in the playful jab, making him flip you off while the rest of the boys laugh their asses off.

“What about you Jin?” Yoongi asks his longtime friend, who for some reason tonight was quieter than usual, something clearly on his mind.

And as if brought back to reality he looks at all you with a surprised expression, “O-oh,” he stutters, “um Business Administration?” he says, unconvinced of his own answer.

Yoongi nods his head, “As expected, as expected. Business does run in the family,” and though you know Yoongi meant no harm in the comment, you couldn’t help but notice how tense Jin got after hearing it, as if it only further killed his mood.

“Hey,” you softly whisper into his ear, grabbing his attention while Yoongi begins to talk about something else, “everything good?”

Immediately his expression softens, and he quietly nods yes, not wanting you to worry. But no matter how well Jin thought he was at hiding emotions like sadness or anger from you, any change in his behavior, albeit small or large, was always obvious to you.

Making a mental note to talk to him later, you subtly keep an eye on him for the rest of night, your mind wondering what it could be.

Jin plays with your loose strands of hair while he watches you soundly sleep, your skin warm and slick with the efforts of your earlier endeavors.

It hadn’t been long since he moved into this apartment with Namjoon, and though you weren’t exactly officially living with them, with the number of mornings he’d wake up to having you beside him, he and Namjoon might as well have considered you their third roommate.

Not like Joon was complaining, the breakfasts he’d wake up to you making completely cancelling out the occasional use of his ear plugs for nights like these…..

Trailing his fingers across your shoulders, he traces the curves of your collarbones, savoring the moment. It wasn’t until he suddenly heard you speak that he realized you weren’t asleep at all, “Can’t sleep?” you ask, opening your eyes.

“Y/N, go to sleep, it’s late,” he mumbles in the darkness.

Ignoring him, you move to make yourself more comfortable, “Something’s bothering you,” you simply state, and that he can’t deny.

“Y/N... “ he’s about to begin, but you weren’t having any of it.

“Seokjin,” you say his full name, something you’d rarely done since you met him, “you know you can tell me,” you reassure, squeezing his hand, “it’s my job to listen,” you add for extra comfort.

And for a moment he looks as if he’s contemplating something, not really accustomed to being the one talking.

Especially because if you were to ask anyone who’s ever known Jin, then they’d tell you they’d almost never seen the man in a bad nor sad mood.

Because for the sake of others, Jin had always been the one to remain cheerful when things were bad, the one to crack jokes even whenever he felt down, the one who liked imitating Mariah Carey’s whistle notes in the car while driving, the person everyone could always rely on whether it be for laughs, advice, or just anything.

It was just who Jin was as a person.

He sighs once he’s made his decision to tell you, “You know how we were talking about declaring majors and stuff tonight?”

Silently, you nod your head, and he sighs again, “Well I was thinking about something the other day…” he pauses, shifting his body to the side, leaning his head against his hand and now completely facing you, “Remember that first conversation we had in my mom’s car the day you moved into town, when I was taking you to diner?” He asks the rhetorical question, continuing with his thoughts, “How I said that people usually have expectations already set on them and with the pressure of being successful, no one ever truly takes the risk of pursuing what they’re passionate about?”

You nod again, wondering where this was going.

“It wasn’t until earlier this month when I revisited that conversation in the midst of everyone talking about declaring majors and their future careers that I realized that really I was just talking about myself,” he sighs, and suddenly everything becomes clearer to you, and a look of understanding becomes apparent on your face.

He gulps before continuing, “For so long I’ve been so scared to seriously pursue directing and the world of entertainment all because of my fear of disappointing my dad because Yoongi’s right … business does run in my family and I don’t know if it’s cause I’m the oldest but there’s always been an expectation set on me. An expectation to be the best. An expectation to be successful.”

Slowly, you begin to run your hands through his hair, allowing him to talk as much as he wanted because you knew this was one of the very rare moments that he was going voice everything he had been thinking for so long.

“And so when I hear people like you or Taehyung or even just classmates talk so passionately about what they wanna do in the future I can’t help but wish I had that same courage to to pursue what I want. I mean hell, look at Yoongi pursuing a career in music and producing. I like business, I do, but it’s just not for me, and now just like how you and the rest of the boys are pursuing your dreams, I wanna pursue mine, no matter what it takes. For the first time in my life I want to be 100% selfish, I want to choose me.”

He remains silent after finishing his little speech, a signal that he now wanted your input. He needed to hear something, anything, for he was tired of bearing the weight of his worries by himself.

Gathering your thoughts, you give him a kiss to the lips before continuing, your heart swelling for the man in front of you, “Jin if you want to pursue your dreams then do it,” you grab his hand and kiss his knuckle, “Because I’m just as sure you’ll be successful in the future, plus it’s better to live a life without regrets than with…” you pause, “But I also don’t think it’d be right if I wasn’t rational with you. You’re gonna have to tell your parents, and it’s also important to know that like any other career there is a risk of not making it because at the end of the day that’s how life works and sometimes things are just out of our control… but the real question is if you’re willing to accept it if it happens…”

Jin breaks away his eye contact with you, your words sadly ringing true, “Hey,” you turn his head with your hand in order to have him face you again, now resting your hand on his cheek, “Everything will be okay,” you reassure, “I’ll be with you every step of the way,” you kiss his other cheek.

To that, he smiles.

“Tomorrow,” he randomly says, only causing you to be confused until he continues, “Tomorrow I’m going home and telling my parents what I wanna do. And you’re coming with me… for moral support that is,” he shoots you a grin, and for a moment your eyes are wide in surprise because well… you certainly weren’t expecting him to do it so soon, “Please?” he pouts, making you roll your eyes playfully.

“Like you have to ask,” you say, tightly wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck, a good night’s sleep following soon after.

“If only we had known things weren’t going to go down as smoothly as we thought it was…”

“Dad you don’t get it…” Jin pushes his hair back with his hand, a sign that he was stressed.

His dad scoffs, “What’s there not to get? You’re choosing something that’s a complete risk over something that has a future, a guaranteed solid one at that. Let’s be feasible here Seokjin...”

Silently you watch the exchange between father and son. Yeah, the two of you knew that there’d be some backlash to Jin’s decision from his parents (if not only his father) but to be here for over 3 hours now, watching the two go back and forth wasn’t what anyone had expected. Neither side relenting on why the other was wrong. But time was ticking, and soon one would pop, you just hadn’t expected it to be Jin first.

“I just can’t dad!” he shouts, interrupting his dad, his voice echoing across the walls. Momentary silence followed, enough to hear a pin drop fall, “I-I just can’t,” Jin’s voice breaks, his eyes desperately pleading for his dad to just once in his life understand.

A scornful laugh comes out of his dad’s mouth before he exhales a big deep breath, “Okay,” he monotonously states, and for a moment a flicker of hope appears in both Jin’s and your eyes, but as fast as it came, it left even quicker, “You can pursue your little venture into the world or entertainment and directing, but just know I never agreed to paying for a degree in Film, I agreed to one in Business. And so if you really want it that bad, it’s coming out of your pocket,”he declares, shocking everyone in the room.

“Sungjin,” Jin’s mother, who had only watched the exchange like you the whole time, finally speaks up, in just as much as shock as you and Jin. Paying for college out of his pocket? That was almost impossible.

Jin’s father raises his hand, as if to let him continue, “Be grateful I’m still agreeing to pay for that apartment of yours, I’m not cruel enough to let my own son jump from place to place.”

Jin shakes his head, “No,” he says, and you look at him confused, “I’ll pay for my own apartment as well as everything else you help pay for,” with a hardened scowl now on his face he continues, “and I’ll prove you wrong,” he declares.

His father could only look at him with skepticism until his own expression followed his son’s. The two really were two sides of the same coin.

“Come on y/n let’s go,” he scoffs, getting up from his chair and going to kiss his mom on the cheek, you politely (but also awkwardly) dismiss yourself, following him outside and into his car.

“Why the hell did you do that?” you finally ask, one of the many questions you had running in your head, “and how the hell do you plan on paying for everything out of your own pocket?”

“Because y/n,” he runs his hand through his hair, turning on the car in order to let the ignition warm up, “I want to prove him wrong,” he repeats his reasoning from earlier, shrugging his shoulders in the process, “I’ll just pick up extra hours at work, holiday season is starting soon and my manager being the lazy man he is would rather overwork an employee aka me than hire someone new.”

You pout, “Does that mean no more movie nights?” you whine, making him laugh.

“We’ll still have them princess,” he gives you a peck on the cheek, “Just not as frequent that’s all,” he then follows the kiss with a squeeze on the cheek, “meaning we have to savor them more,” he concludes, the two of you well on your way home, a happy couple once in love.

“This …. This is where our story slowly begins to take a bit of shift. It’s where the bright flowers we once held onto so tightly begin to slowly wilt when faced with the real world, where destiny and fate cross roads, creating and molding choices both within and out of our control…”

“Place your tassels to the left...” the students in the arena follow the command. “and congratulations to the new class of 1996!” the chancellor of SNU announces, and soon the sight of graduation caps being thrown left and right follows.

You feel your throat go sore from the amount of cheering you’re doing on the stands, watching as Jin and your group of friends hug in celebration, following with excited waves directed towards you and Jin’s mother along with his siblings.

Jin’s father, who claimed he was too busy with work, wasn’t able to make it, not that it was much of a surprise to anyone. Ever since Jin declared his financial independence from his dad, their relationship wasn’t exactly a favorable one, not that there was ever much to work with.

But in the end Jin understood his father and he understood why he couldn’t be supportive because like any other parent all Jin’s father wanted was to ensure Jin lived a successful life where he wouldn’t have to worry about finances and whether there’d be food on the table albeit it be for only himself or his future family.

The class song, “Fantasy” by Mariah Carey begins to play, and you feel your stomach cramp at laughing so hard because of Jin’s sudden dancing, the boys soon following his movements. You really had to take him to a Mariah Carey concert soon.

“Let’s go meet them in the parking lot,” Jin’s mother shouts over the chaos of people leaving the bleacher stands.

You nod, following her lead, all while helping Minjun and Yeonha (who were now 10) not get lost in the crowd. Once you make it to the parking lot, you find Jin, who had made it there before you all, and immediately you run to hug him, his siblings following suit.

His mom who's holding his famous old camcorder, records the moment, but once Jin spots it, he’s quick to cover his face by nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. “How is it that the person always recording things, hates being recorded?” you chuckle, trying to push him off so that he’d have no choice but to be recorded.

“Mm don’t forget being pictured,” he mumbles, maneuvering you in a way that he could reach the camera in his mom’s hands, tackle her into a big hug and successfully get her to turn off the camera.

“Congratulations my Seokjin,” his mom kisses his cheek, ruffling his hair like she did when he was a kid.

Jin, who ditched the mullet about two years ago, now sported a more clean cut look, resembling a comma in the front while still a little lengthy from the sides. In a way it made him look a bit more youthful, not that he had to worry, for that man truly did not age. You were sure that even now at 21 years of age, Jin was going to look like this for the rest of his life because 4 years ago at age of 17 he looked exactly the same. You could only hope your own genes did the same.

“Thanks mom,” he smiled.

“Now for a picture,” she said while pulling out a Kodak disposable camera from her purse, but before she could even attempt at taking a picture, Jin was already getting into his car.

“Ahh later mom, let’s just go eat for now,” he announces, “The graduation boy is really hungry,” he gives her the puppy dog eyes before entering the car.

She rolls her eyes, “Fine. We’ll meet you two over there,” she says, “Come on you two,” she motions to the two twins to follow her back to her car.

“I still can’t believe you wanna drive all the way out to that old diner in Gwacheon as a way of celebrating your graduation,” you say as Jin reverses out of his parking spot, one hand on the steering wheel while the rest of his body was turned to make sure that no cars were passing.

Once he was safely out of the parking lot, he then replies, “Because y/n, there’s nothing better than a nice BLT sandwich on a Saturday night, don’t you think?”

“They’re not even all that—” you’re about to lecture him until he interrupts.

“Ah Ah ah, I’m the graduation boy,” he pouts while driving, “We went all the way to Itaewon to try that Italian food you wanted so bad when it was your graduation day, and you didn’t hear me complain.”

You narrow your eyes at him, damn him …

“Mm,” you mumble.

“Oh I love this song!” Jin, with his right hand, turns up the volume to the radio, “Californiaaaa loveeee,” he repeats after the robot, the music now blasting in the background as he gets on the highway, now on your way back home.

“Passing” you the imaginary mic in his hand, he expects you to sing with him and for a moment you stare at him with a deadpan look until of course you smile at his foolishness, “California knows how to party,” you sing, passing him the “mic”.

“In the cityyyyy of LA,” he continues along, and it goes like this the whole car ride. The two of you going back and forth singing songs from famous artists such as the Backstreet Boys, Boyz II Men, Radiohead, Nirvana, and of course Jin’s favorite, Miss Mariah Carey.

And just like that the day goes by in the blink of an eye, from eating at the diner with his mom and siblings, to visiting your parents until finally the two of you found yourselves sitting on your porch just like the good old days.

Resting your head against his shoulder, both of you stare at the sky above in silence, the stars out and shining bright tonight.

“We really graduated,” you say in disbelief, breaking the silence. Jin turns his attention to you, a small smile on his face.

“Crazy huh?” he interlocks his hand with yours, kissing the knuckles of it, “Time went by in the blink of an eye, and now we’re officially in the real world. Nothing but a tiny speck in such a large universe, almost like the stars,” he chuckles looking back up to the sky, and you gaze at him with a soft look in your eyes. If only he knew how much brighter he shined compared to them.

“Jin…” you randomly say, “I love you,” and though he’s heard it come out of your mouth many many times before tonight, each and every time he did hear it, his heart swelled the same as the first.

Unlocking his hand from yours, he instead wraps his arm across your shoulder, gently bringing you closer to him, enough that you could even hear the sound of his heart beating. Something that not even a video camera could capture. This was a memory you two would just have to remember on your own when you are both old and grey.

“I love you too princess,” he whispers, “I love you too,” he repeats to himself, “You know, I’ve been thinking these days about our future...” you look up at him from your position, childlike curiosity now shown across your face, “I feel like since we’ve always lived moment to moment since we’ve met, I’ve never really asked you…” he pauses debating whether to ask, “what kind of future do you want?”

Softly chucking, you shrug, “You really wanna hear it?” you ask, and he furrows his brows, almost offended you’d even ask, but rather than scold you he simply nods, “Hmm..” you think for a moment, “I picture us both having successful careers and living in the big city while we’re at our peak, getting married on a whim and occasionally traveling the world in search of an adventure,” you pause, “but when the time comes to finally relax, then I’d want to move back here, to where it’s calm and quiet, buy ourselves a house and maybe we’d even have a kid, just one though,” you emphasize.

He arches his brow, “Just one?” he asks.

You nod your head, “After babysitting your siblings, yes, just one,” you repeat with laughter and he himself can’t help but laugh, “I think a girl preferably, but I wouldn’t be mad at a boy, They would probably take after you in looks,” you add, nudging his shoulder.

He blushes for a moment, before faking smugness and winking at you.

You laugh at his confidence before continuing, “And we’d show them the different places this town has just like how you showed me, enough that they’d want to stay here when they’re older,” Jin notices how your eyes glisten as you talk of a time that felt so far away, “And we’d be a small little happy family, supporting whatever it is that their dream will be. And then we’d grow old and grey, maybe have a couple of grandkids running around, and we’d simply be proud of the life we’ve built together—”

And before you could continue on any further, the feeling of his soft lips placed against yours interrupts you, nothing but passion exchanged in the kiss. It isn’t until you’re both out of breath that you break away, Jin immediately framing his hands over your cheeks, “Promise me?” he asks, and you wrinkle in confusion, “Promise me you’ll live a life you’re proud of?”

“As long as you do the same,” you softly answer in return, and silently he nods, “then let’s do it.”

“If only I knew … If only he had been honest with me that night then maybe things could’ve been talked about right then and there before it got out of control…”

Jin crumples the rejection letter and throws it in the trash, frustrated by yet another rejection letter from a directing internship. Tonight he was visiting his parents for dinner while you were out of town on a trip to Busan with some college friends you’d met your freshman year. Taking the opportunity of being by himself in your guys’ apartment, he shredded the number of rejection letters he’d received from several programs in the past couple of months. Too ashamed to show you them.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t but feel frustrated. It’d been a year since the two of you had graduated college, and while your career in engineering physics was going great, he couldn’t say the same about his career in directing. Of course when you’d ask how everything was going, he’d feign a smile and say he was still waiting to hear back, guilty that he was incapable of telling you the truth.

Fixing the yellow unbuttoned dress shirt he was wearing over his plain white t-shirt and striped vest, he combs a hand through his hair one last time before leaving, feeling as if his head was about to explode.

“I made Naengmyun, your favorite,” Jin’s mother sets the bowl of noodles down along with several other sides, making sure her oldest son was eating good tonight. She was also trying to mitigate the awkwardness that was in the air tonight, this being one of the very rare occasions Jin and his father spent time together. Over the last year, things still were still stiff between the two, Jin’s father still clearly not accepting of his career choice.

Jin, who didn’t have much of an appetite, stirred with his noodles, hoping his mother wouldn’t notice.

“So Seokjin…” his mothers begins once she seats herself, “how’s everything been going so far?” she asks, genuinely wanting to know what her son has been up to these days.

Jin, trying not to look too uninterested, gives a simple response, “Um it’s been going good,” he casually says.

She nods, “What about y/n?” she asks, always interested in hearing about you.

At this question, Jin seems to perk up more, this change in behavior not going unnoticed by someone else at the table, “Great,” he says, “she’s currently working at a paid internship for some technical writing company that specializes in space and astronomy,” he continues on, “she really seems to love it.”

A smile appears on his mother’s face, happy to know that you were doing great.

“But what about you?” the voice across the table suddenly asks, and Jin is met with the glare of his father, “you seem to have so much to say about y/n, but so little about yourself,” his dad comments, and Jin could physically feel his stomach drop, his words reminding him of what he just shredded at home not too long ago.

“What do you want me to say?” Jin asks, hiding his nervousness through a monotone voice.

His dad scoffs, “That you’re doing something with your life,” he says a little too harshly, “that you’re not living in the shadow of your girlfriend.”

“Sungj—”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jin sneers in the same amount of attitude his dad had.

“Seokjin!” his mother shouts, “That’s your father you're speaking to,” she reminds him, believing that the practice of respect should still be something upheld no matter what, “Kids, go to your room,” she tells the twins, and without question they do.

Jin quickly calms himself down, just wanting to leave before this escalated any more, “It means that I told you that business was the way to go, but no you were so adamant on proving me wrong and pursuing your dreams that now you can’t even guarantee yourself an independent future!” his dad spat in return, his voice now raising with every sentence . The bottled feelings from years ago now spilling out... rapidly at that.

“Why is it that with you it’s always business, business, business?” Jin throws his hands in the air, “I mean really that’s all I’ve ever heard from you growing up! Jin you need to be like this, Jin you need to make sure you do this, Jin I need this from you,” he mocks his dad, “I mean really is that all you care about dad? Meeting your expectations? Following your footsteps?”

“I do it because you’re my son Seokjin! My son, who I thought I raised to think critically, to strive for success—”

“You think I’m not trying?” Seokjin shouts, his voice turning hoarse at the end, “You think I wanted to fail? To have to come to the realization that—” he stutters, “that shit’s not going how I planned it?” Jin’s mother feels her eyes brim with tears, “That while my long time girlfriend is on her way to becoming a star in her field that I’m stuck waiting tables with a useless degree in my pocket! Is that what you want me to say, dad? Is that it?”

He remains silent.

“You think I don’t know that I’ve made a mistake? That I don’t wake up with the dread of knowing that I’m not at all good for her? That while she could be with someone who makes just as much money as she does and actually provides for her, she decides to stick with me? The person who can hardly offer her anything?” rather than feeling a weight come off his shoulders, Jin feels an extra burden get added on, almost feeling suffocated.

“Well then I’m sorry dad! I’m sorry I couldn’t be the magnificent first born son you wanted!” by now tears are spilling out of Jin’s eyes in such a rapid pace that his vision blurs.

All his father can do is stare at him, unsure of what to say or do.

Growing up Jin’s father wasn’t much of an affectionate parent, that role being filled more by his mother than his dad. If anything his father usually kept more of a reserved and stoic personality, his love language shown by the long nights of work he puts in for his family at the office and the constant pushing for success. And so here in this moment, to have his oldest son who he’d push to his complete limit cry his heart out in front of him, probably in desperate need of a hug, Sungjin just couldn’t bring himself to comfort him.

And so instead he simply said, “Goodnight Seokjin,” in the softest voice possible, before making his way upstairs to his bedroom, leaving the words he so desperately wanted to say unsaid.

Jin feels the arms of his mother hug him, her eyes as teary stained as his, “Ah Seokjin,” her voice breaks as she attempts to comfort him.

“I—” Jin hesitates, “I need to go back home mom,” and gently he breaks away from the hug.

“Seokjin…” his mother worries, “Just stay here for the night, I’ll grab your old sheets from the closet and—”

“Mom,” he simply says, a way of finalizing his decision

Knowing she wasn’t going to be able to convince him, she squeezes his shoulder in an effort to comfort him, “Drive safe,” she says.

He nods, just wanting to go home and sleep the night away.

Unlocking the door to your guys’ apartment, Jin was surprised to see you in the kitchen making ramen, your packed bags laid across the couch.

Having heard the door open, you turn to face him, “Hey—” and almost immediately your expression goes from one of happiness to one of concern. Quickly you rush towards him, his puffy eyes telling you that he’d been crying, “Hey, what’s wrong?” you raise your hand to cup his cheek.

Jin simply stares at you with a saddened look, unsure of what to say. “Hey, I’ve realized tonight after an argument with my father that I’m a complete utter failure, and you have no chance at a happy future by being with me.” Is that what he should say? It was the truth, wasn’t it?

“It’s—” he pauses, “It’s nothing,” he lowers your hand from his face, taking off his shoes and setting his keys down.

“Seokjin—”

“Y/N, it’s nothing,” he repeats, his way of telling you that he was serious, “I’m going to bed,” he exhales a deep sigh, making his way towards the bedroom, leaving you standing in the living room by yourself, wondering what in the hell just happened?

The next morning, as per usual Jin awoke to an empty bed, your Monday’s usually having you go in very early in the morning.

Jin groaned as he got up, remembering that today was his day off. God, did he just wanna stay in bed all day, but remembering that the two of you were running low on groceries, he thought might as well make himself useful and do the buying for the week.

Looking at himself in the bathroom mirror, he noticed the strands of his hair he once kept short now getting longer, resembling the mullet he used to have when he was a teen. Not that he hated it or anything, but it was an odd sight to see, and so he grabbed his hair cutting scissors from the cabinet and began to unevenly chop the long strands of hair ultimately resulting in a chopped banged look. To make it look more natural, he ruffled his hair at the end, not bothering to style it.

After that he changed into casual clothing and made his way to the grocery store, relying on nothing but his pure memory for the things he needed to buy.

Humming while pushing the cart full of groceries back to his car, he stops when something catches his eye.

Across the street was the headquarters of one of the internships he had applied for. And maybe it was due to the argument he had with his dad the day before, or the fact that he’d been feeling like a complete utter failure recently, but getting into his car, Jin couldn’t bring himself to drive away and go back home. Instead he got out of the car and began to walk across the street, unsure of what it was he was planning to do.

Ding. Ding.

Jin rings the service bell, that impulsive courageous feeling he felt earlier suddenly abandoning him.

A man, who looked like he was near Jin’s age, walks out of the back office, a tag that read the name “Jungkook” pinned on the left side of his chest, “Hello, how can I help you?” he greets, a small smile on his face.

“Oh um—” Jin becomes flustered, but deciding that there was no backing down he continued on, “I sent in an application here a couple of months ago and I haven’t heard back from anyone, so I was just wondering—”

Jungkook’s face becomes one of nervousness, “Oh I’m sorry sir—” he tries to interrupt but Jin relents.

“If there’d been some kind of delay in the process, and well if there has been, if I could talk to someone because I really need—”

“Sir,” Jungkook repeats, this time halting Jin from continuing, “that position you’re talking about was filled months ago,” he practically whispers with a look of both awkwardness and pity on his face, “maybe your letter got lost in the mail, but there’s not really much you can do by coming in here.”

Jin, clearly in denial, nods his head no, “Please,” he pleads, “I just need to talk to someone for like ten minutes at most, I swear.”

“Sir—”

“Can’t you write down my number or something? Pass it on at least?!”

Jungkook can only stare at the frantic man, unsure of what to say or do, “I-” he stutters, “I can’t,” he ultimately says, not wanting to give this man false hope nor waste his time by writing his name and number down, “I’m gonna have to call security if you don’t leave,” he says, voice wobbling.

It’s only then that Jin realizes how crazy he must’ve looked. Not only was he in casual clothing, but his hair was all messy and he was sure his eyes must’ve been dilated in cause of his desperation.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” he whispers under his breath, hastily making his way out.

What was he thinking? Barging in and demanding things like that…. God he was losing it. Though he knew better than to let his dad’s words get to him, for some reason they were just eating at him.

“... it’s also important to know that like any other career there is a risk of not making it because at the end of the day that’s how life works and sometimes things are just out of our control… but the real question is if you’re willing to accept it if it happens…”

Your words from years ago ring in his head, and he shakes his head in denial. No he wasn’t … he wasn’t willing to accept it and he knew he’d only continue looking like a fool if he didn’t. But he just couldn’t. Because fully accepting it would mean he’d let you down. That the person you said you were sure was going to make it, was nothing but a failure.

And so he walks back to his car, dreadfully going back home, forgetting the words you spoke after.

That everything would be okay, and that you’d be with him every step of the way.

“Since the day Jin and I had met, we had never seriously fought over anything, yeah, we’d occasionally get into a petty quarrel, but never enough to really get us truly mad. Things like which character in a movie was morally correct, or who ate the leftovers from the night before were as heated as our arguments ever got, and even then we’d always forgive each other after a couple of hours of cooling off, but this time… this time it was different. This time it was serious.”

Opening the door, Jin sighed as set down the bagged groceries on the floor, mentally and physically exhausted from everything, personally declaring to himself that this week was just a really bad week for him.

Taking off his shoes, he began to make his way into the kitchen, deciding that maybe a cold cup of water would relax him.

But when he was met with you, sitting on the kitchen isle’s chair with several shredded pieces of paper on the surface of the isle in front of you, along with an unshredded one in your hand, he was sure he wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.

The look on your face said everything, it was a mixture of betrayal, anger, and sadness all in one. The two of you stared at each other for the longest, words not having to be exchanged in order to understand what was going on, until finally you break the silence and it’s what you ask that Jin swore he felt his soul go cold, “W-Why?” is all you say, your voice weak and fragile.

He gulps down the lump in his throat, the words barely managing to come out of his mouth, “Because y/n I just—” he pauses, unsure of what to say, “I just couldn’t tell you,” he ultimately says, pushing his hair back with his hand.

“But why?” you repeat the same question from before, your voice now growing louder as you get up from the seat, “I just don’t understand,” you add because no, you weren’t angry, you weren’t sad … you were hurt. You were concerned. You were worried. For you had just found out that the man you loved more than anything went to this extent to hide something from you. To hide something so … trivial.

Tears well up in your eyes when you notice the glossiness in his own eyes, “You—” his voice cracks, “You wouldn’t get it,” he states, and this causes you to get defensive.

“I’m sure I would, if you’d just talk to me,” you barked back, coming closer to him, “Whatever it was, it should’ve never resorted to this!” you flail the paper in your hands around.

You don’t mean to yell, but you do. It was frustration that was coming out of your mouth, he had to understand that … right?

Sighing you continue, “Today at work I just couldn’t focus, not when I knew there was something seriously bothering you,” you explain how you’d come to find the paper along with the rest of it’s shredded companions, “So I asked if I could leave early, thinking that since you had the day off I could maybe possibly get whatever it was out of you. Of course seeing that you weren’t here, I did some snooping of my own and well…” you shake your head.

“You’ve been lying to me for months Seokjin…. each time I’d ask you if you’d heard anything you’d say no, knowing you had … and for what? Because you didn’t wanna show me that you got rejected?” you sigh in dismay because despite him not answering you, you knew exactly why he didn’t tell you anything, “I would’ve helped you, you know? We could’ve worked on your resume or make a better project to show, I could’ve helped,” you grab his hand, a way of wanting to show that even now you were still beside him, “Say something Jin,” your voice breaks.

“You don’t—” he looks down at you, “You don’t get it y/n,” he monotonously repeats, removing your hand from his and walking towards the bedroom, a tired expression on his face.

He could feel it… he could feel himself cracking. With every minute that continued to pass in this wretched day, the selfless Jin everyone knew and loved was reaching his breaking point and the last person he wanted to take it out on was you. But you just kept pushing.

“Seokjin!” you force him to turn around by pulling at his hand, “Just talk to me!” you demand.

“And say what!” he finally screams, “What do you want me to say y/n?!” he cries out, tears spewing out of his eyes, “That I completely failed at my dream? That my dad was right, and that film was nothing but a mistake? That I could be working at some fancy company that pays a decent salary rather than relying on tips from a hard day’s work? That when I look at myself in the mirror, I see nothing but a failure!”

“Don’t say that about yourself,” you demand.

“It’s true isn’t it?” he questions, “Can’t you see that I’m not the person you think I am, that you’ve wasted your time being with some—”

“Just shut up already,” you grit your teeth, “... can’t you see I don’t care? I don’t care if you’re the richest or poorest man on Earth, I don’t care if your dad thinks that your career path is wrong, I don’t care if you or other people think you don’t deserve what you have, I just don’t care! What I do care about is your happiness and that shouldn’t rely on meeting other people’s expectations, including my own Seokjin. Because trust me, as long as I’m with you, I’m the happiest girl in the world. I promise you, if there’s one thing that’s true in this world, it’s that,” you lay your heart bare.

By now the both of you are crying, tears silently rolling down from the corners of each other's eyes.

It hurt to see Jin think so lowly of himself, especially when you knew just how much of an amazing person he was.

“Y/N…” he whispers your name as softly as he can, “I’m just really tired, and I just really wanna go to sleep,” his voice breaks.

“Seokjin—”

“Please?” he frowns, his eyes yearning to be closed.

“I’ll—” you pause for a moment, “I’ll see you in bed then,” you ultimately say, sadness looming in the air for the words unsaid.

Silently nodding, Jin makes his way to the bedroom, gently shutting the door behind him and exhaling a deep breath of air, silent muffled sobs finally escaping. A decision already set in his mind.

“A part of me used to think that I should’ve immediately went to bed that night, that then I would’ve caught him crying and maybe we could’ve thoroughly talked everything out that night, but then I think about all of the events that later happened after that night, and that’s when I understand that maybe we were doomed from the beginning…”

It had been a couple of weeks since the argument with Jin and though your interactions were still a little stiff with one another, you were still hopeful that things would get better. They had to.

Sighing, you unlock the door to your apartment, ready to take a nap after a long day of work. Kicking off your shoes, you say something outloud, assuming that Jin was in the kitchen like he usually was whenever you’d come back from work, “Jin take out the kimchi from the fridge for me please,” your voice weirdly echoes across the room, changing your course of direction from the bathroom to the kitchen.

“Jin?” you ask to an empty kitchen, “Hm,” you hum to yourself, maybe he was in the bedroom …

Walking inside, you see that he isn’t there, but what you do notice is the sudden emptiness of the room. The clothes he’d have thrown around no longer scattered around the room, and his little Mario figurines were no longer on the wooden shelf you two had built from scratch …. What in the hell was going on?

“Seokjin?” you shout again, hoping this was some kind of stupid prank on his part.

In a panicked manner, you look inside every possible room in the apartment, from the closets to the restroom, Jin being nowhere to be found. It isn’t until you do a second search of the kitchen that you notice that there was a note on the floor (most likely accidentally falling to the floor earlier).

Eyebrows furrowing when you read the note, you immediately grab your keys, shock and anger acting as your driving force.

“Right when I left, it began to rain heavy... It’s weird … I remember driving with such a rage that night I was sure I was driving recklessly… but for some reason, as ironic as it was, there was an artist playing on the radio that must’ve kept me at bay, Mariah Carey singing Without You …”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The door opens.

“Ah Y/N,” Mrs. Kim greets you, her apron from either cooking or baking still on, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in such a long time,” she chuckles, hugging you in the process. Despite your current dilemma, you feign a smile, not wanting to be disrespectful even if you were in a horrible mood. “Is Seokjin with you?” she genuinely asks, and this causes your expression to be one of shock.

He wasn’t here? Then where the hell was he?

“O-oh no,” you stutter, partially due to the freezing weather, “I thought he was here...” you say, and his mother’s face immediately becomes one of concern.

“No...” she hesitantly says, clearly confused, “Not that I know of,” she furrows her brows, “Oh honey, you’re soaking, come in, come in,” she insists, “maybe we can try calling his job using the house phone,” she begins to ramble, but you stop yourself before completely entering, a sudden thought crossing your mind.

“A-a-actually it’s fine,” you say, “I think I know where he is.”

She tilts her head in confusion, “Are you sure? The rain is only getting heavier, and I’m sure neither Seokjin or your parents would want you driving in these conditions,” she says, noting the dull look in your eyes. You appreciated her concern, for you knew she loved you in her own special way, always imagining that you’d one day be her future daughter in law.

It was only expected really, you’d been in Jin’s life for almost 7 years now, both she and your mom always glancing at your ring finger whenever you’d visit, itching to see it decorated by a piece of jewelry.

If only Ms. Kim knew that that dream was slowly slipping away from your grasp at this current moment …

“Yes I’m sure Mrs. Kim,” you finally respond, “Don’t worry, I’ll drive safe,” you try to say as lightheartedly as possible.

Hesitantly, she nods, allowing you to leave.

“When Mrs. Kim had offered me to come inside, something had hit me out of nowhere and I remembered that it was raining. Pouring in fact. And my mind suddenly went back to the days when we were 17, remembering how he’d knock on my door with a bag of takeout after coming back from the one place you could always find him at on a rainy day… the diner. ”

Water is dripping from all over your body when you enter the diner, from your hair to your clothes, you were drenched in mother nature’s tears. The only thing that wasn’t completely soaking wet was the note in your hand, the one you slammed on the booth’s table he sat at once you spotted him.

He looks up at you with a pained expression on his face, “Everything I do is for you, and this is for the best. Don’t come looking for me, for I’ll be long gone by the next morning’s sunrise. I’m sorry. Yours forever, Jin,” you read the note out loud to him, a mixture of anger and hurt found in your voice.

He remains silent, watching as your fingers trembled in anger, “What?” you rhetorically ask, “Did you think I wasn’t going to come all the way down here to look for you, that I was just gonna accept this bullshit of a letter or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, and call it a day? Is that what you honestly thought?”

After several minutes of continuous silence, your voice rises in anger, “Don’t just look at me, say something!” you yell.

“Y/N,” he says, the volume in which you said it, catching the attention of the late night goers also at the diner, “you’re causing a scene.”

You take a seat across from him, planning on being as loud as you needed to be until you got some answers, “How could I not when my boyfriend of over 7 years decides to pack up his things and leave to God knows where while only leaving some sorry excuse of a note for me.” your voice shakes, “What the hell did you expect?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, genuinely meaning the two simple words, more than you could ever know. Did you think he wanted to leave you? That he wanted to toss away everything you two had built to the trash? That he wanted to hurt the person who meant the most to him in this world? Of course he didn’t. But he had to be the bad guy in this story. Not for him, but for you. Because he loved you so much, that’d he’d do anything to see you live the life you dreamt of.

“No,” you say, “I don’t believe this,” you fling the letter around in his face, “I need you to tell it to my face, then I’ll believe you,” tears begin to well up in your eyes. There was just no way. The Jin you knew would never do this to you, never in a million years.

“Y/N—” he sighs, but he knows you won’t relent until you hear it from him, “Y/N we can’t be together anymore,” he says, and the words echo in your mind as he continues, “After tonight we’ll be nothing more than strangers,” he says in such a monotone voice, if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was a heartless being.

What you didn’t know was that Jin wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. Every nerve in his body was begging him to break out in tears, but no matter how much he wanted to … he just couldn’t bring himself to break outwardly. Not right now at least. Because right now he needed to be unbreakable.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” a single teardrop slowly rolls down your cheek, the agonizing ache you felt in your heart now growing because of his words, “Seokjin,” you whimper, “I-If this is because of what you were saying a couple of weeks ago,” forcibly you grab his hand from across the table, your lips quivering in fear of losing the person you loved the most, “then why can’t you see I don’t care? Because to me you’ll always be the tall, lanky, boy with an outdated mullet who first showed me around town 7 years ago with a camera pointed at my face. Because as long as we’re with each other, we’ll get through anything Seokjin …” you squeeze his hand tighter, “You’re my person Seokjin, mine, and mine only,” you try to smile, only causing more tears to spill out of your eyes as they crease.

“Y/N…” just accept it, is what he wants to say because what he was about to say would change how you viewed him, it would make you question everything you ever knew about the person you loved, “I don’t know what else I can say or do for you to understand that I just don’t want to be with you anymore,” he feels the a knot forming in his throat, as if to tell him to stop immediately, that what he was saying would have irreversible consequences, “And I haven’t been for a while…” How disgusting he was.

“You’re—” your voice croaks, “You’re a liar—Seokjin please....” you cry.

He pulls his wallet out and sets the money for his meal down, getting up from his seat in the process, “I truly am sorry Y/N…” is all he can say, before giving you a final kiss on the forehead, his feet fighting against his will to turn around and apologize. To tell you that he was just being an idiot and beg for your forgiveness. But he couldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

And so pushing the door open, he took one final glance at you, knowing he’d left his heart with you.

103 notes · View notes

falling-pages · 3 years

Text

I know about you: Tamakyo

These boys need to feel some happiness and I'll be darned if I'm not the one giving it to them. This is just Kyoya finally getting his well-deserved cuddles.

The gang is on the run from people who wish them dead, Tamaki starts seeing things, and Kyoya learns to let himself be taken care of.

"Kyoya pressed a kiss to his neck to thank him. Thanking him for saving him, for helping him, for making life worth living all over again and again and again every time he smiled."

Tamaki Suoh x Kyoya Ootori

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of riots, evacuation, similar themes.

Tamaki shuffled in the darkness, groaning when he felt the empty space next to him. The sleeping bag was still warm without a certain Shadow King, but he would have preferred clinging to his boyfriend’s body over all the extra space. Kyoya knew Tamaki couldn’t sleep without tangling him in his arms.

So if Kyoya were missing, that led to two theories: he was in danger, or he was sitting by the fire.

Tamaki sat up and stretched, hand smacking against the knife handle on his left. The first theory canceled itself out simply by the fact of his own presence. If some wild thing had taken and eaten Kyoya, he would have been taken, too. He had never heard of a predator picking and choosing a meal when there was a whole buffet of tents to feast upon. Plus, they had a guard dog in Mori, whose razor-sharp senses had been keeping them all in line so far.

They all had survived so far just by sheer luck and Mori’s instincts, and he hoped that luck wouldn’t end the moment he stepped out of the tent.

Something rustled. A shadow moved in front of the crackling fire, long and tall and bespectacled--

Theory number two, proven.

Tamaki laid back down and folded his hands together, propping his head against his interwoven fingers behind him. He watched as the figure paced in circles around the fire, torso bent at an angle, posture tight and rigid. Waiting for Kyoya to finish, Tamaki turned back onto his side, pretending to go to sleep until his love returned to his arms.

Except, he didn’t. Kyoya sat on a log and bent forward, cradling his head in his hands.

It was odd, seeing him like this. He had a habit of staying up late, yes, but once he went to bed he stayed knocked out until the noontime sun shook him awake.

A streak of worry coursed through Tamaki’s veins, and he wondered if it even were Kyoya sitting out there, or if it were an imposter, a traitor, infiltrating their camp.

He grabbed the knife and crawled out of the sleeping bag, pausing at the edge of the tent. It was half-way unzipped, and through the transparent orange cloth, Tamaki confirmed it was his love who sat dejected and alone just a few feet away--his posture was unlike him, but he was wearing Tamaki’s shirt, and the leather straps from his necklace rode along his neck.

“Kyo?” he whispered, setting the knife off to the side. His voice kept its softness, even with the dehydration. He would do anything to dunk his head beneath a creek’s tide and gulp, despite Mori’s warning insurrectionists likely poisoned all the local watering holes.

Kyoya fidgeted, not sitting still for the first time in his life. It was good enough of an invitation, so Tamaki stood, dusted his hands, and joined him on the log.

“Please come back to sleep,” Tamaki mumbled. “The sleeping bag is cold without you.”

Kyoya smirked, finally looking up at him beneath his thin wire rims. That smirk detailed it was a lie, they both knew Tamaki’s body heat was enough for both of them, especially in such a tight, confined space.

But in the firelight, that smirk twisted into a grimace, highlighting the tears welling behind Kyoya’s eyes, and Tamaki reached out and grabbed him, sinking onto the log and pulling him against his chest, rubbing circles up and down his shivering back until the racking sobs and moans reduced to sniffles.

In his shock, Tamaki could only whisper words of comfort and press kisses into his hair. Above it, though, he knew that Kyoya only needed to hold him--that if he could feel his love, that would help quell the sea of anxiety and fear tormenting his soul.

Kyoya clutched Tamaki’s shoulders, kneading his fingers in and out of the seams of his shirt. He had been his anchor since the day he had arrived in Japan, with his cheery voice and chipper eyes and light-filled soul. Together they were a tangle of heartache and wishes, hope and regret, two young men in love thrown into a world that had once coddled them, now trying to kill them.

Their only hope of survival was each other.

“You know, Kyoya, I’ve been thinking,” Tamaki mused, “and since the rioting, the wanting to eat the rich and all that...since they’ve destroyed our property, I suppose we aren’t rich anymore! We should be safe!”

And just like that, the moment broke.

Kyoya didn’t know if he were supposed to laugh or scoff, but after a moment for his brain to process the statement, he let out a mix of both. Tamaki was famous for his fanciful ideas, but this stretched even the definition of fanciful.

“We are the heirs of some of the richest corporations in all of Asia,” Kyoya replied with a sneer. The teardrops dried on his cheeks. “The insurrectionists are not going to just forget what we look like.”

“They might! Put you in contacts, give Mori-senpai a wig, put the little devils in dresses and give Renge a moustache, we’ll be fine!”

Kyoya couldn’t help but laugh at that, a real laugh, and bury his head back into his boyfriend’s chest. He inhaled that distinct Tamaki smell, expensive cologne long forgotten in their evacuation, that persisted despite the sweat and dirt of a week of hiding and travelling in the forest. It pulsated from his soft skin, and Kyoya pressed a kiss to his neck to thank him. Thanking him for saving him, for helping him, for making life worth living all over again and again and again every time he smiled.

But as their laughter faded, the stench of their situation landed back into Kyoya’s mind, souring his mood. They were on the run from a burning society, and with the next safe colony still so far away, the doubts kept him awake.

“Be serious with me, Tamaki,” Kyoya griped. “Do you really have any hope any of us will make it out alive?”

Tamaki’s smile faded as he searched his boyfriend’s face, looking for the anchor and solidity he knew was there. He knew it was there. But it was hidden beneath that stern exterior, a mask of iron inherited from his father, a trait Tamaki had worked so hard with Kyoya to shatter. But in that seriousity was realism, the sobriety to Tamaki’s joviality, and he knew he finally had to face the music.

“I don’t know,” he replied, to which Kyoya scoffed.

But then Tamaki took his hand and spread every finger, admiring the way the skin stretched around each long, bony digit, how evenly polished and clean each nail was, even in the middle of the woods, how miraculous it was that each tendon could connect to bone that could connect to muscle that could be controlled by the brain, especially a brain as terrifyingly wonderful as Kyoya’s. How every part of him was beautiful, sacred, worthy. How he wished he could fill each insecure crack and crevice with his love and reassurances.

He brought that hand to his lips and kissed every knuckle, gently, like a butterfly landing on a rock. He kept his head bowed but heard the quiet sound Kyoya let out, a sound in between surprise and contentment.

“I don’t know about all of us,” Tamaki continued, “but I know about you.”

Kyoya jutted out his lower lip, unsure of how to respond amidst the tidal wave of emotion ravaging his soul. Tamaki folded his hands around Kyoya’s kissed one, like a protective shelter.

“The others are my family, and I love them dearly, but you are my priority,” he said. “I would do anything to make sure you get to the Akaishi Mountains. If my mother were here, I would ask her to pray. If Nekozawa were here, I would ask him to appeal to every spirit he knows. If I could I would sell my own soul to ensure your safe passage.”

“Tamaki--”

Tamaki lifted his face to Kyoya’s, clenching his jaw with such a chromatic force he could have chipped a tooth. “I love you more than anything, and I will do anything in my power or out of it to save you.”

A log in the fire snapped, but neither man noticed. All was silent in the air except for the promise, heavy and saturated and sinking in the air. They were going to make it. They had to.

“Come back to bed with me, yes?” Tamaki whispered, a yawn snatching the end of his sentence. His arm floated back down around Kyoya’s shoulders, rubbing warmth into them. Coaxing, prodding, as gentle as he ever was.

With the butterfly kisses smattered across his cheeks to accompany the plea, how could Kyoya refuse?

Something tight rolled in his chest, reverberating with every beat of his heart. He was always the one to take care of everyone else, protecting them through influence and power, his family’s money or private army. And yet here they were, all of them, on the run from those who wish them dead because of him--with Tamaki cooing and cradling him, taking care of him for once. Like he deserved it, like it was his reward for all the scamming, scheming and choking business deals he had performed.

So he let Tamaki propel him upwards, pulling him up into the night sky, where dozens of stars saw fit to smile on them as they lumbered back to the tent. Once inside, Tamaki gently laid him down inside the sleeping bag, secured the tent, and crawled in next to him, blowing air onto his chilly fingers. Kyoya allowed him, detaching the lock around his heart and throwing it into the forest beyond.

Tamaki hummed as he warmed the Shadow King, pausing only when Kyoya lifted his head from his chest to press a kiss against his chapped lips. It was so gentle, and rarely did Kyoya initiate affection, that Tamaki nearly cried from the happy blooms snaking through his body.

“Thanks,” Kyoya whispered, laying his head back down on Tamaki’s chest, syncing his breathing.

“Let me take care of you, baby,” Tamaki whispered, kissing Kyoya’s forehead. “I swear I will.”

#ouran high school host club #tamaki suoh #kyoya ootori #tamakyo #tamaki suoh x kyoya ootori #kyotama #ohshc #tamaki x kyoya

48 notes · View notes

catharrington · 3 years

Note

Catboy headcanon: When Billy is horny, he rubs at the base of Steve’s tail because he knows it’s a sure fire way to get Steve riled up, too.

Sometimes, when Steve comes home late at night from his job at the public library, he’s not in the mood. Doesn’t want to get in the mood. He just wants to lay out in a patch of artificial sunlight and laze around. Dreading the fact that he needs to get up to take a shower and even change into pajamas.

Maybe, he thinks, he’ll put on Billy’s baggy winter pajamas that he completely swims in. No better way to get warm from the cold of February outside. And no better way to hide his cold toes from the drafty windows of their apartment.

“You home, pretty cat?” Billy calls to him from the kitchen. Before he walks into the doorway, a glass of whiskey hanging loose in his fingers, wearing nothing but black cotton briefs and a grin. One hip cocked dangerously to the side, as if he knew he was something to look at.

Steve lifts his head so his chin is balanced on the couch. His ears flicking side to side as he registers the heat coming off Billy. The clinking of the ice cubes in his glass as he walks forward.

Billy walks towards him and it sends Steve up on his knees. Not in a way he wanted to, he doesn’t want to put forth the effort of getting up, let alone getting off— yet, he can’t help it. Billy smells of cheep liquor and sweat. Of the meat he cooked for dinner earlier. He makes Steve’s mouth water.

His tail hits against the back of the couch loudly, hit, hit, as Billy stalks towards him. A smile on his face that’s matched by Steve’s own.

“I’m tired,” Steve warns. Trying to laze forward on his elbows, even when his butt persistently sways in the air. “Work was hell. Don’t really need you asking me to do more work—,”

“Me?” Billy feigns ignorance. His drink clinking again as he gets close enough to set it on the coffee table. As he gets close enough for Steve to feel how hot his body runs. As he gets close enough to show off how tented his cock is inside his shorts.

“I’m not going to force you to do anything,” Billy scoffs at even the idea. He lumbers between the couch and the coffee table. Sitting down on the floor with a heavy thud of his heavy body. He casually leans back against the table, easily, like he does this every day, and uses one hand to push back his wild hair.

“Just,” he says with half lidded eyes and a wet swipe of his tongue. “Just tell me how your day was. And I’ll massage you until you feel better? Okay, babe?”

And Steve can’t help it. Even with the plethora of pet names he still gets liquified inside at a new one. He lets a purr roll out from the back of his throat long and deep. Let’s his body roll over to the side so he can face Billy directly.

Inside their apartment is quiet, the street has the noises of cars driving by and the chatter of people. It’s late, not too late however. The steeet lights are still on. Casting Billy’s pretty skin, his messy hair and his grown out beard, in a honey yellow glow. Just like the liquor glass sweating out onto the table. He looked good enough to drink.

“Just,” Steve mocked his tone of voice, “just a massage? And then bed?” He lifted one bushy eyebrow. His ears pointing to attention on top of his head.

Billy nodded along, eager like a puppy. His fingers twitching on the edge of the sofa.

Steve sighed out, playing up how exasperated he was, as he rolled over onto his stomach. Pointing his toes until they went over the side of the arm rest. And folding his arms so they held up his head like a proper massage pillow.

“All right,” he whispered out.

And like a gust of hot summer air from a left open window Billy’s hands covered the small of his back. Those thick fingers and wide, circular palms caressing the bottom hem of his sweater with relentless gentleness. Even with the whiskey on his breath, Billy moved his hands in tight controlled circles that absolutely pushed the air up and out of Steve’s chest.

He couldn’t help it, not one bit, as his tail moved to curl around Billy’s shoulders. As it seeked out that warmth with the possessive nature Steve always tried so hard to keep in check. The fur jerked against his dirty skin, catching long strands in the clumps of his sweat. He must not have showered after coming home from shift of working outside. It meant he really needed a shower now, it was fantastic.

“Tell me about your day at work, pretty cat,” Billy whispered. It sounded like his mouth was right next to the fur of his ear, but Steve was floating on a cloud. And with the way his own throat was making the deep vibration of a content purr, Billy sounded miles away.

“Aahh,” Steve moaned out, trying to remember how words tasted on his tongue. When all he could think about was the taste of whiskey.

“We got a ton of deliveries, some new hard-back biographies today,” he managed to get out on shaky breaths. “I-I had to unload and check them all in. Stamp... them all in.” He dragged out the last sentence with a roll of his hips. To match the roll of Billy’s fingers.

They pushed up the hem of his sweater until those devilish fingers were touching skin. Erasing the February chill from his walk home, but leaving goosebumps as they went.

“The old bats at the counter left the whole shipment for me! I think—,” he cut off with a groan, “I think they like watching me struggle with carrying the boxes.”

Billy laughed low at that. So low, so deep inside his naked chest, that Steve felt it vibrate up his spine. “I don’t blame them. That sounds adorable.” He whispers, much too close again.

“Perv-pervert,” Steve grumbles out. Tilting his head forward into his folded arms.

His next words catch and stay in his throat as Billy’s fingers dip from their rhythm on his lower back, they dip to touch the base of his tail where it juts out from the hole in his jeans.

It’s a wider hole, wider than most, and most of the time Steve has to alter or cut his hole to fit his larger tail. Billy doesn’t even pinch any of the fluffy fur as he pushes in two fingertips.

“Woah!” Steve gasps out. His arms unfolding as he bolts upright, while his tail flicks to the side to hit the couch with a loud whack.

And all Billy does is give another low chuckle. One hand, the hand not lost in his mess of tail hair, rubs a gentle circle on his back. “That’s no good?” He asks, “I’ll stop if you say so?”

But Steve’s purrs were filling up the whole damn apartment. His cheeks were flushed a cherry red color, growing over his cheek bones and connecting at the tip of his pointy nose. He could feel his face was on fire. Could feel a bit of shame as he gave over to just how good Billy’s fingers were.

He let himself fall back to the couch with a huff. Nuzzling his blushing face back into his folded arms, and hiding his blush in the sleeves of his sweater.

“Feels good,” he mutters out.

Billy leaned forward, a lopsided smirk, “what was that, I didn’t catch it?”

Steve turned where he knew Billy’s face would be, bent over to try and see his shame. He kept his eyes closed as he hissed, “heard me!”

Billy groaned out himself. His body rolling as he leaned forward. Leaned more into Steve’s lax and warm frame. His fingers disappearing to the knuckle as he felt out the most sensitive part of him. Right where the bone of his tail was thickest. Right where the fur came up into his back— every bit as ticklish as pleasurable.

“Come on, kitty,” Billy sighed. He leaned forward so his face pressed into the hair between Steve’s ears. Rolled the tip of his stocky nose in the mess of it, inhaled the scent of Steve in a way that made his stomach flip. Butterflies fly around. Pink stars flutter at the side of his vision.

“I want you to feel good, want you to want it,” Billy kept talking. His voice hot on the back of Steve’s neck. “You deserve to get off after that fuckin’ day.”

Steve reached down between them, fumbling with the button and zipper of his jeans. Billy’s laugh kept going in his hair as he shifted so his jeans went below the swell of his ass. His tail slipping through the hole of his jeans much more easily than Steve was struggling.

“There’s my feisty cat,” Billy didn’t waste any time in getting his hands back in Steve’s tail fur. Burying them into the long chocolate and black fur until his palms where flat on Steve’s skin. Then he pulled then back. Using his short fingernails to scratch at a maddeningly slow pace.

“You must have looked so damn cute. Workin’ up a sweat in front of everyone. How cute, how tempting...,” his breath hot onto the back of Steve’s neck as he speaks. Making his leather collar moist. “Good thing you wear this collar so everyone knows who you belong to.”

Steve’s hands groped uselessly at the couch under him. His hips bucking backwards to get more of those hands on him.

“Such a good kitty, huh, such a good boy for me.” Billy’s mouth turned. His lips pressuring dangerously into the base of Steve’s ear. It flicked violently back and forth, knocking into Billy’s nose and lips, but he didn’t move back. “Right here, huh? Does this feel good? Right at the base of your pretty little tail?”

Steve whimpered, nodding in agreement.

Billy’s fingers were moving faster and faster, some staying at the very base to tease and dig into all the most sensitive nerves of his skin. His other hand was petting through the rest of his fur. His tail, ever the traitor, was curled in a tight vice around Billy’s arm making it all too easy for him.

“Want me to keep petting you, keep touching you, think you can get off just from this?”

Steve’s hips bucked up off the couch. His knees knocking together as he tried to lift them so his skin was touching as much and as hard against Billy’s as he could.

But Billy was using his weight to keep Steve down on the couch. Was using both his arms and his chest to pin Steve so he was laying just as he choose to lay for the massage. And that, well that was almost as hot as the dirty talk.

“Billy, Billy,” Steve chanted his name in rolling waves of his purring. His mouth hanging open so his tongue lulls out the side. A pool of drool gathering just below his chin. It matches the way his cock trapped below the softness of his belly and the rough texture of the couch is dripping it’s own pool of pre-cum.

He’s torn between rutting down to get the friction and make himself cum, or bucking up more to get Billy’s fingers scratching into his skin deeper and deeper. So he does both in studdering jerky movements that make his whole body ache.

“Shhh,” Billy’s mouth has gotten closer. His lips right at the base of his ear. It makes the sensitive pink skin inside twitch and jerk away. Flick in annoyance at the hot air.

But then Billy’s closing his lips around Steve’s ear. Closing his teeth around it just enough to feel them. And rolling his tongue against the fur in time with how his fingers flex deeply into his tail.

He can barely hear the way Billy whispers, “cum for me, kitten,” as he cums. His neck stretching out in a choked off moan. Toes curling. Tail flicking at the end into Billy’s bicep muscle. His eyes widening before fluttering closed.

He’s giving small little ruts down into the couch until his cock stops milking ribbons on it.

Tomorrow, there will be a mess to clean up. That, and the whiskey Billy left sit on the table.

But now, Steve’s only thinking of going to sleep.

He’s lost in a steady rhythm of post-orgasm purring as he feels his soft body shift before lifting. Billy groaning only slightly as he hefts Steve up to a bridal carry.

He takes Steve into the bedroom. Their shared bedroom. Laying him down across the sheets like something precious, like something he doesn’t want to break. Or misshandle. Like he ever could when every way he’s ever touched Steve has been with a gentle hand and love in his eyes.

First he feels his hair being pushed off his sweaty forehead. Then he feels his jeans being taken the rest of the way off and a cloth cleaning off his skin. A fresh new pair of sleeping pants that match Billy’s own slipping over his long, pale legs.

Billy shuts the lights off. Shuts the door. The noise of the city outside still makes it bright, can’t get away from that.

But Billy comes into bed and curls up behind Steve. Wrapping one arm around his waist, those work rough fingers possessive against the slight pudge Steve’s stomach has. Pushes his knees behind Steve’s so he’s flush with as much of him as he could possibly be.

“This okay, Stevie?” he whispers.

And Steve’s heart flutters. His stomach grows warm. He’s got those butterflies again. He opens his mouth but not a lot comes out. His words constantly cluttering, failing him.

He takes Billy’s hand from the pillow above his head and brings it down to his lips. Presses those scarred and big and scary hands to his lips. Says much more than he knows he can with his limited, stuttery words.

Behind him, Billy chuckles. Pulls Steve by his stomach even closer together.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fic #my fic #harringrove fanfic #steve/billy #cat boy Steve #y’all. I try and write. porn. AND THIS IS WHAT YALL GET!!!!!#thank you jones for being the best inspiration 🖤🖤🖤

109 notes · View notes

vampiregirl1797 · 4 years

Text

Love Blossoms

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

GIF Not Mine.

Click Here To Find My Masterlist.

Warnings: mentions of murderers, panic attack, some light smut near the end, otherwise FLUFF and Aaron allowing himself to be less serious and more happy around Y/N.

Word Count: 15,065– It’s a big ole one.

Summary: A collection of moments between Aaron and Y/N, documenting the journey they took to come together.

When I had started working at the BAU, it had been just after Agent Greenway transferred to another unit. I had no idea why she’d made the decision, but I sensed it was better not to ask, due to the tense behaviour that appeared the few times her name had come up in conversation. It took a while for the team to warm up to me, but even then they were still polite and professional. But for a good six weeks, I felt a little... left out, which sounded almost juvenile, but it was the truth. It didn’t take an expert in behaviour to notice that the BAU team were like a family, and after just losing a member made it easy to understand their hesitance in letting me into the fold.

I don’t know what made the decision for them, but it seemed that my relationship with each and every one of them went from polite and professional to open, honest and familial overnight. But I wasn’t going to complain, they were the most wonderful people I’d ever met and I was grateful for being accepted into their little family. There was only one problem, and that was Aaron Hotchner. The man was incredibly stern-faced, hardly ever smiled and he led the team like a drill Sargent. He had the most expressive eyes I’d ever seen, when he was actually willing to let his guard down for people to read them, he cared deeply, deeper than anyone would ever think, and I swear to god he knew about the crush I’d had on him since the moment I’d been introduced by Strauss on my first day at the BAU. That had been almost a year ago now, and my feelings had flourished, the flowers blossoming, the roots digging deep inside me to a point that extraction would cause me immense physical pain. I was in love with my boss, and I was certain he knew. How could he not? He was the unit chief of a team of profilers for goodness sake. And after we’d all witnessed JJ unsuccessfully hide her relationship with Will from us, well let’s just say I wouldn't be surprised if the whole team knew too. But I tried not to give it too much thought, after all Hotch was married and he was my boss. It wasn’t like I could do anything about it if I wanted to.

I needed to get over it, that much was clear. Which was why I was open to accepting Garcia’s offer to set me up on a blind date with one of her gamer friends. It could be good, couldn’t it?

‘Garcia, I swear I’m never letting you set me up on a date again!’ I complained, waving my hands around in my frustration, but somehow managing not to spill a drop of the coffee in my right hand.

‘Come on, Y/N! Randell is a catch!’ Garcia argued, linking her arm through my left in an attempt to calm my erratic movements.

‘A catch? Honey, there’s a reason they say you should never trust people you meet on the internet!’ I quirked my brow, lightly elbowing her when I noticed the smile she was trying to hold back as we stepped into he conference room, ‘you knew he was a creep!’

‘No I didn’t, I swear. Seriously though, what happened?’ She asked as we took our seats at the round table— we were the first to arrive for the briefing.

‘He was only capable of talking about sex, which was ironic because he kept flinching and crossing his legs every time I so much as reached for my wine.’ I rolled my eyes, sighing, ‘not to be overly negative but that guy wouldn’t have lasted thirty seconds if I’d taken him up on his offer.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She winced, her expression softening with sympathy.

‘Oh, I’m only getting started, he kept degrading me.’ I took a sip of my coffee to get my anger under control, ‘saying things like: “I’ll bet a girl like you likes it real hard and rough, huh? I’ll bet you’re a dirty little slut.” And then he proceeded to ask me to call him “Daddy” so I threw his wine in his face and left.’

‘His wine?’ Pen frowned, and I didn’t notice the way she glanced over my shoulder and took a sip of her own hot beverage to hide her smile.

‘I’d already drunk mine.’ I shrugged, my smile becoming a full grin when Penny started to laugh.

‘Well I’m sorry that he was a jerk, Y/N.’ Garcia said, her voice sincere once she’d recovered from the humour of my story, ‘he may or may not find a hardware wiping virus on his computer at some point today as a punishment.’

That startled a laugh out of me, and she chuckled with me too, my hand squeezing hers briefly in gratitude before releasing her.

‘Don’t worry about it, it’s my own fault really.’ I bit my lip, knowing that she could have put the perfect guy in front of me last night and I still would have found him to be lacking in some way. Because he wouldn’t have been him. I shook that errant thought away before it could show on my face.

‘We’ll find someone for you, Y/N.’ She patted my arm and lowered her voice as the rest of the team joined us, ‘or at the very least someone for you to blow off some steam with.’ She winked.

Her sudden suggestiveness took me off guard, so much so that if it hadn’t been for me raising my cup back to my mouth in time, there would have been coffee all over the round table, and a few agents sitting around it. I gave her a look that was a mixture of annoyance and mirth, but she only winked again as I wiped my mouth free of the excess beverage that had spilled onto my chin.

‘Are you gonna share what you’re talking about over there, Baby girl?’ Derek asked, a smirk painted on his lips as his eyes flittered in between the both of us.

Garcia and I shared a look that was full of mischief and mayhem— the usual concoction that resulted in us being together. Pen leaned forward and opened her mouth to say something that was going to be incredibly suggestive and most likely inappropriate, but as if he sensed a verbal war he wouldn’t be able to stop unless he got ahead of it, Hotch bought the conversation to a stop.

‘We’re going to Louisiana. They need our help with an unsub who’s mutilating women aged 25-30.’ He started, his authoritative tone garnering the teams attention immediately— I personally felt incapable of not paying attention when he spoke, he was so... captivating.

I felt myself subconsciously crossing my legs together, a vain attempt to quell the ache that started to form whenever I lost myself in his dominant personality. I pulled my eyes from him with great effort, and focused on the file in front of me, but it was for nought as my mind ran wild. Generally alpha personalities guaranteed a handful of the same qualities: arrogance, narcissism, dominance to a point of control and over confidence. I’d met, and even dated, more than my fair share of men with those same characteristics. But Aaron was different, and up until I’d met him I had no idea there was another kind of alpha male. He wasn’t arrogant, he was most certainly intelligent and confident within himself, but not to the point of parading his greatness in front of anyone and everyone in an attempt to boost his ego. He was quietly confident, but still willing to listen to others, still willing to accept blame if he ever did something wrong. He was about as far from a narcissist as you could get— getting him to talk about himself for more than a few sentences was taxing, he was much more comfortable and happy with the topic of conversation being on anyone but him. And as for being dominant... he most certainly gave of an aura of authority that you couldn’t help but notice or pay attention to, but rather than be flippantly commanding like the other alpha males I’d known, he always took other’s feelings into account. In other words— he’d never make you go through with something he could tell you wouldn't be comfortable with. Without meaning to, I couldn’t help but think Aaron Hotchner would most definitely be dominant in the bedroom— but I had a feeling it would be tailored to whoever he was with. He was a caring dominant personality, I was sure of it, he was the type of alpha personality to get off on getting his bed partner off, to care about fulfilling her fantasies and desires. The type to care about keeping his partner safe, to care for them physically, mentally and emotionally.

Hayley was a lucky woman.

I shook myself out of my thoughts with a sigh, actually taking in the details of the case in front of me and hearing Reid reel off the square footage of Louisiana.

‘Seeing as we already have three victims I’ll get started in a geographical profile when we arrive.’ Spencer finished, offering Hotch a small smile as he offered an approving nod.

‘Very good. Wheels up in ten, if this unsub follows the same pattern, he’s about to kidnap his next victim. Time is of the essence.’ Hotch said, I didn’t notice him frown when I didn’t catch his eye before leaving the room like I usually did— I just couldn’t bring myself to look at him just yet given how my thoughts had wondered off.

I needed to get my reactions around him under control, because this was getting ridiculous.

‘He has to be finding the girls at this club, following them home, and kidnapping them before they get their keys in the door.’ Morgan said, running a hand over his head as an exhausted sigh escaped him.

I leaned next to him on the table, my arm knocking against his as a silent offer of comfort, he nudged me back and smiled with gratitude.

‘I think our best bet is sending someone undercover.’ One of the cops at the Louisiana station proposed, and not for the first time.

At first he’d been dismissed because when we’d arrived, there had already been another woman reported missing, and we knew he kept them for a minimum of three days before disposing of them. So it would have been pointless to send someone out to seduce him when he already had someone to keep him busy. Her body had been found this morning and the friend who’d been with her had confirmed they’d been at the same club as the others the night she’d gone missing. We had no idea who he was, or how to find him, but we knew where he was going to be, now we had to lay the bait, but who was it going to be?

‘It’s not a bad idea.’ Prentiss said, looking over to Hotch, knowing that nothing would go ahead without his approval.

‘We’d need a woman who fits his type.’ Spencer pointed out, looking over to me.

‘Why are you looking at me, Doc?’ I raised a brow, frowning when I noticed everyone’s eyes on me, all except one pair.

‘Y/N, would you be comfortable with going undercover?’ He asked, his brown eyes meeting mine directly for the first time that day.

I felt my heart beat pick up in my chest as I answered, ‘of course.’

His eyes remained on mine for a few more moments, holding me captive while he studied my expression to determine if I meant what I’d said, or if I was simply agreeing because I felt I had to. What felt like hours later, he looked away, and I felt like I could breathe again as I lifted my coffee cup to my lips to hide my shallow breaths as I worked to return my heart rate to normal.

‘JJ and I will go with her, all the other victims were in groups, it would be suspicious if she was on her own.’ Prentiss murmured, her words somehow still sounding like a question even though she hadn’t worded it as one.

‘Fine.’ Hotch nodded, sweeping out of the room and leaving the team to prepare for what was most definitely going to be a long night.

‘I look ridiculous.’ I complained, not for the first time but I couldn't help it— I had never wore such revealing clothes and I felt exposed and stupid.

‘No, you look like a knock out, trust us we know what we’re doing.’ JJ said, her voice gentle and patient— I assumed she could see the discomfort in my eyes.

‘Don’t forget, we need to attract the unsub’s attention, and all of his victims so far have been party girls so we need to appeal to his type.’ Prentiss reminded me and I sighed, closed my eyes and resigned myself to my fate.

This isn’t about me. This is about stopping a psychopath and preventing anymore women dying.

‘Okay, thank you both.’ I offered them a shaky smile as I stood, trying to walk in the heels they’d dressed me in. It took a few minutes of pacing, but I got it.

Before I knew it, we were heading to the club the victims were last seen in, JJ and Prentiss linking both of my arms, and a deceivingly bright smile plastered on my lips. This was going to be hell. But I sucked it up and headed over to the bar, signalling for three drinks that were most likely going to be nursed for as long as possible. I was waiting for my drinks to be prepared when I felt a presence behind me. I attempted to ignore it until I felt a hand on my waist, the feeling sending a shiver of dread up my spine. I looked up into the darkest eyes I’d ever seen, and I didn’t just mean in colour, though they were a dark brown, but there was no emotion behind his iris’. They were completely void of any emotion aside from a sadistic shimmer that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. This was the unsub, I was sure of it.

‘What might your name be?’ He asked, his hand moving back and forth on my waist.

I knew from the profile that this man’s ego led him to kill when he was rejected by the women he sought out, so I took great pleasure in twisting his arm behind his back.

‘My name is none of your business.’ I sneered, gathering up the drinks and carrying them over to the table the three of us commandeered in the corner.

‘We saw you had company.’ Emily commented, her tone light but her eyes held a seriousness to it that hinted at what she was really asking.

‘That’s him. I’m sure of it.’ I said, relaying what had happened to them, and the rest of the team on the comms.

‘Give it thirty minutes, then leave. Remember, you’re leaving separately. Y/N first and we’ll see if he follows you.’ Hotch murmured, his voice a quiet, seductive tone in my ear.

I took a deep breath and pushed away the cocktail in front of me— anymore alcohol and I would end up revealing more than I wanted. I knew from experience that I was a chatty drunk, and incapable of keeping any secrets to myself.

‘Got it.’ JJ answered for all of us and we lapsed into casual conversation for the next half hour.

Despite my intentions not to, half of my drink was gone before I’d even realised I was drinking it, but by that point I couldn’t remember why alcohol wasn’t a great idea.

‘So what happened with that asshole Garcia set you up with anyway?’ Emily asked, sipping her own cocktail.

I snorted, ‘he was awful, honestly. Wouldn’t talk about anything but sex, but every time I reached for my drink he flinched and kept shifting in his seat.’

‘No stamina there then.’ JJ snorted and Em and I nodded in agreement.

‘Honestly I’m just so sick of it.’ I rolled my eyes, swirling my drink around with my straw, ‘I can’t remember the last time I had satisfying sex.’

JJ snorted into her drink and Emily loudly agreed with me.

‘Tell me about it! The ones who are loud and proud about being able to get a woman off have—.’ Em started but I cut her off, happy someone knew what I meant.

‘NO IDEA WHAT THEY’RE DOING!’ I held my hand out for a high five, and sober I would have never considered high-fiving over something like this, but drunk me thought it was a great idea and apparently Emily agreed as she slapped her palm against mine eagerly.

‘Well, lucky for me I got one of the good ones.’ JJ smirked, flashing her wedding rings.

‘Lucky bitch,’ I gave her a mock glare that had her winking at me.

‘Seriously, you don’t know how lucky you are. Good guys are so unique and rare.’ Emily sighed, ‘I went on a date last month with a guy who spent the whole night talking to my breasts and when he was clawing at me when he dropped me back off at my place, I ended up kneeing him in the crotch.’

‘Men our age suck.’ I squeezed her hand in agreement, ‘most of them only care about getting themselves off, some to the point of aggression if you try and push them off when you’re not enjoying it.’

‘Amen.’ Emily cheered.

‘Do they know we can still hear them?’ Spence’s voice over the comms had us all breaking into laughter.

‘Sorry Spence.’ JJ apologised, wiping the moisture from her eyes.

‘No don’t apologise!’ I shook my head, holding up my hand to stop them from commenting, ‘he’s right, it’s sexist to exclude him from the conversation, do you have anything to add, Doc?’

I could practically hear him blushing from inside the club as he floundered for a moment, and someone— probably Derek— chuckled.

‘I know that in 2015, only 6 percent of women said that they always had an orgasm during penile-vaginal intercourse, 40 percent said they had an orgasm nearly always, 16 percent of women had an orgasm half the time, and 38 percent had one infrequently.’ Spencer reeled off, always eager to share information he’d absorbed.

‘Thank you, Spencer for proving my point.’ I smiled, finishing my drink, ‘you’re herby invited to the next girls night.’

Emily and JJ cheered, our glasses clinking together as they finished their drinks too, signalling for two more.

‘Thanks,’ Reid mumbled, actually sounding quite touched at the invitation.

I cleared my throat and stood, careful to keep the nerves now bubbling in my gut off my expression.

‘Well ladies, this has been fun, but I have to go.’ I pretended to pout, winking when they groaned in disappointment, ‘sorry, I have an early day tomorrow. Goodnight, I love you both.’

I hugged them before I departed, and both murmured a “be careful” into my ear before I left them. As I walked out of the club and headed for my car, I couldn't help but put my phone to my ear to talk to the others— the further away I got, the quieter I became and the more nervous I was.

‘Hey, this is unexpected, it’s so nice to hear from you!’ I greeted brightly, being careful to keep my eyes trained forward—if he thought I was on to him I might scare him off.

‘You’re doing great, sweetness.’ Derek murmured, his voice calm and comforting, though it didn’t dissipate my nerves completely.

‘That’s amazing, congratulations. I’ll bet your fiancée is so proud of you!’ I gushed, unlocking the rental car they’d commandeered for me and sliding inside, tossing my phone into my purse and placing it onto the passenger seat and putting on my seatbelt.

‘Just a little further, Y/N.’ Hotch’s voice soothed my anxiety like a balm and I felt my white knuckle grip ease a little from the steering wheel as I settled into the drivers set, suddenly more at ease.

‘Thank you.’ I murmured, hoping he didn’t hear how breathy my voice sounded as I headed for the address that had been pre-programmed into the GPS.

I drove in comfortable silence, knowing the team was on the comms offering me a sense of security. I was about five minutes from arriving when a cop car lit up behind me, wanting me to pull over.

‘Uhhh... did we clear the Louisiana police?’ I asked, not pulling over just yet.

‘Why?’ Hotch asked, his voice urgent.

‘Because someone is trying to pull me over now. What if that’s how he got them? Coming to the club in his cruiser and following them to pull them over when they were on their way home?’ I suggested, trying not to panic as my heart suddenly felt like it was beating in my throat. It made sense, and I might have recognised him had I been paying more attention to the cops around the station. It made me wonder if he knew me, but then again I’d barely been at the precinct the past few days, Hotch had me on activities that led to me being outside the station.

‘Y/N, listen to me do not pull over. Garcia just checked with Louisiana police department and there aren’t supposed to be any cars in patrol in that area.’ Hotch ordered, and I wondered if I imagined the tremor of concern in his voice as I sped up a little.

‘If I don’t pull over then we won’t have anything on him, remember? We have no way to tie him to the women he killed, and if he’s a cop that makes sense. If he doesn’t take me, he’ll try to take someone else, someone who doesn’t have an FBI team and SWAT to back her up.’ I argued, but I didn’t like it anymore than he did.

He didn’t respond for a long time and my heart beat became so loud that it was ringing in my ears. I almost didn’t hear Hotch when he responded.

‘Give it one minute and then pull over, I’m redirecting SWAT to your location and we’ll be there as fast as we can. Keep him talking, Y/N and don’t hang up the phone.’ He murmured, his voice dripping with so much authority that it made the hairs on my arms stand up.

‘Yes sir.’ I answered, watching the clock on my dashboard and pulling over exactly one minute later.

I put a bright smile on my face as the same man from the bar came up to my window, signalling for me to wind it down. I lowered it an inch. His smile was dark and I had to physically hold myself back from flinching.

‘Hello there darlin,’ he greeted, his attempt to be charming having the opposite effect, ‘I didn’t just see you come out of that club back there, did I?’

I pursed my lips, deliberating on whether to lie or not, I knew he’d find a way to get me out of the car either way, but I needed to buy myself some time.

‘You did, officer.’ I admitted, biting my lip in what I hoped was an enticing way, ‘but I only drank water.’

‘You wouldn’t mind proving that, would you?’ His hands rested on his hips as he pushed his chest out, attempting to emphasise his brawny shoulders, but he just looked like he was pecking like a chicken.

‘Prove it how?’ I attempted ignorance.

‘Take a breathalyser test for me, if you’re under the limit, I’ll send you on your way.’ He winked, his eyes glinting dangerously at the prospect of what he could do to me as soon as I stepped out of the car.

‘How long would that take, exactly?’ I asked, but I wasn’t talking to him.

‘We’re two minutes out, Y/N.’ Derek promised.

‘No more than five minutes.’ The man promised and with a sigh, I climbed out of the safety of my car, slamming the door shut loud enough to be heard over the comms.

‘Okay then.’ My words ended in a scream, because even though I was hyper aware of every move he made, the fucker was fast and had stabbed a needle into my arm before I could so much as attempt to defend myself.

‘What did you just—what did you—what’s happening?’ I groaned, my voice consumed with panic as I started to lose feeling in my limps. He caught me under the arms when I fell forward and laid me on the back of his cop car.

‘You and me are going to have so much fun, not that you deserve it, you uptight bitch.’ He snarled, his hand wrapping around my throat and squeezing just enough to make me aware how easy it would be for him to kill me then and there.

‘No,’ My eyes were wet with tears as I felt his hand roaming across my chest, ‘stop.’

He grinned, his eyes reflecting how much pleasure he was taking from this, and he watched my expression as his hand started drifting lower and lower...

I gasped in relief when he was roughly pulled off me. I couldn’t lift my head, but I heard the thump as he was pinned to the car and cuffed, most likely by Derek.

‘I can’t m-move.’ I said, worried that my voice would be to low to hear as even talking was taxing and took maximum effort.

‘Y/N,’ Hotch’s voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket. I noted the relief in his voice as his hands wrapped around my waist and lifted me into sitting position.

‘I can’t move.’ I murmured, as if he didn't know that already, my forehead rested against his shoulder as my body slumped forward.

‘I know. You’re going to be okay, there’s an ambulance on the way,’ he reassured me, and I must have been on some heavy drugs because I could have sworn I felt him stroking my hair.

‘Will you stay with me?’ I said, fear returning to my voice at the prospect of being in a cold, sterile hospital without a familiar, comforting face.

‘Of course I will.’ His warm breath against my ear would have made me shiver, had I been able to.

It was crazy how easily I slipped into unconsciousness with Aaron’s arms around me, holding me up and murmuring reassurances into my ear. His hand continually stroked over my hair, and I wondered if I fell asleep because of the drugs, or because Hotch had soothed me so well that I was powerless to stop it.

Months passed after the case in Louisiana, and nothing much changed, aside from Hotch announcing to the team that he and Hayley were getting a divorce. And I couldn’t muster up anything other than sadness for him, despite my nowhere near platonic feelings for him, I knew how much he loved her, how much it must have been killing him to be separated from her. So I tried to help in anyway I could, I took half his case files so he could go home sooner after cases and be able to spend a little time with his son before he was put to bed. I bought home cooked meals for him to take home, knowing he was less likely to take care of himself if he didn’t have a wife and son to cook for. And the whole team made an effort to get him to come out with us at least once a month. Usually I avoided the drinks on those particular outings, not knowing what my liquor fuelled brain might make me say to him, but tonight was one of the rare nights he said no, having promised Jack he would swing by and listen to his stories about his trip to the zoo.

No one had been able to argue with that, and after we all went home to change— well JJ, Emily and I got ready at Penny’s place— we met up at our usual bar and started ordering the drinks. The conversation flowed with ease, and as the alcohol intake increased, the topics became more... private... between the girls anyway. Reid, Morgan and Rossi were having a separate conversation of their own about past cases by the sounds of it.

‘What’s your number?’ Pen asked.

‘My number? You have it in your phone!’ I frowned, genuinely confused over what she was asking.

‘Not your phone number, the number of people you’ve had sex with!’ Emily shoved my shoulder playfully, the other girls giggling when I flushed in embarrassment at the miscommunication.

‘Three.’ I held my fingers up for JJ, who was furthest away from me and possibly unable to hear due to the loud music.

‘26’ Emily said, winking and throwing back a shot of whiskey.

‘14’ JJ chirped.

‘11.’ Garcia admitted last.

‘Wow, I’m such a prude.’ I mumbled, taking my shot and throwing it back.

‘Nah, you’re young! At 25 my number was around the same as yours!’ Garcia assured me, downing her shot with a grimace.

‘I’ll get the next round!’ I announced, standing from the table and trying not to fall on my face as I walked in the heels JJ insisted I wear.

They were strappy platform heels and apparently they went perfectly with the flowing black skater dress I was wearing. It was a lacy material and I loved it because it was dressy but also comfortable. I reached the bar and ordered another round of the usual for our table, asking for it to be put on our tab. The bartender assured me he’d have my order ready in a few minutes and I’d just slid in a stool to wait when I felt someone groping my ass.

I turned around so fast I almost gave myself whip lash, ‘hey, asshole what exactly do you think you’re doing?’ The first thing I noticed about him was the cockiness that seemed to seep from his every pore. His hair was a bleach blonde, his eyes a cold blue and his arrogant smile made my hand twitch.

‘Nothing sweetheart, pure accident I swear.’ He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. I assumed he was trying to draw attention to his obviously athletic frame, but honestly I didn't think there was anything he could do to make himself attractive to me.

‘Hmm, see it doesn’t happen again.’ I warned, glaring at him, but his smile didn't waver, of course it didn't. This was the kind of man who saw women as property, as a plaything for him to do what he wanted with, whether they enjoyed it or not. To him, I was inferior because of my gender, and honestly there were few other things that boiled my blood like sexism.

He stepped closer, so close that I could smell the excessive amount of cologne he was wearing, it made my nose scrunch up in distaste that he refused to see, because as far as he was concerned he was god’s gift to women.

‘Back off.’ I said, preparing to defend myself if he laid a finger on me.

He laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. He opened his mouth to say something but it snapped shut again when he spied something over my shoulder. I studied his expression for a moment, and when I saw the genuine fear in his eyes I determined he wasn’t faking just to deter my attention. I was just about to turn to see for myself what was scaring him, I idly wondered if Rossi or Derek had seen the commotion and come to offer assistance, but before I could I was overwhelmed with a familiar scent. It was the woodsy cologne that I’d gifted him for Christmas, having found it and insisting that it smelled of Hotch. It smelled comforting, safe and strong. That was the scent that surrounded me, and I felt my eyes flutter shut for a second, overcome with the calm that came over me. When he wrapped an arm around my waist, I was sure my knees would have buckled if I hadn’t been close enough to grab onto the bar for support. I vaguely registered his deep, authoritative voice saying something to the arrogant blonde in front of us, but all I could think about was how warm he was and how good the heat felt seeping through my dress and onto my skin. So good.

‘Y/N?’ His voice bought me back, his tone soft with concern and a little humour.

‘Sorry, I was out of it for a moment there.’ I shook my head, knowing I should step out of his hold, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

‘Are you alright?’ He asked, his free hand twitched and I wondered if that was because he wanted to touch me with that one too.

‘I’m fine.’ My chin jutting in the direction the boy had been standing, ‘but for future reference, that is an example of the assholes men my age can be.’ I mused, signalling for one more beer for the new addition to the party.

‘Hopefully he’ll grow out of it.’ He said, his tone was dry and I found myself laughing with him as we headed back to the table.

‘What took you so long, sweetness? I’m dying of thirst here!’ Derek complained, chuckling when I rolled my eyes at his antics.

I placed the tray in the middle of the table and everyone helped themselves. I tried not to show how pleased I was that Aaron ended up sat next to me, his arm over the back of the booth and close enough to my shoulders that I could feel the heat radiating from him. As everyone drifted to their own conversations, I found myself falling back to talk to Hotch, his dark eyes focused on me and only me. That was the thing about him; he had this way about him, of making you feel like the only one in the room when he looked at you. I didn't know if he had this effect on everyone, or if it was just me, but either way it was overwhelming.

‘How was Jack’s trip to the zoo?’ I asked, shifting a little to face him better, and trying not to visibly show how my heartbeat quickened as my legs became pressed up against his.

‘He loved it and he’s already begging for his birthday party to be there.’ He chuckled, his brown eyes sparkling with the fondness he held for his son.

‘His birthday isn’t until October though, I’m sure he’ll change his mind a million times before then.’ I reminded him, smiling because I knew how wonderfully indecisive Jack could be, as all kids his age were.

Hotch stared at me for a moment, and for all my BAU skills as a profiler, I couldn’t identify the soft emotion swirling around in his eyes. Before either of us could attempt to continue the conversation, Rossi commandeered Aaron’s attention for help in recalling details of a particular case. I leant back and just observed everyone, happy to be silent for a moment and enjoy the atmosphere and multiple conversations around me without actually participating. And if I was secretly happy that Hotch’s arm stated behind me on the back of the booth, well no one needed to know.

As the night wore on, people started to leave. First Reid, then JJ and Prentiss, then Derek and Penny, until it was Rossi, Hotch and me. But when the exhaustion started to seep in despite my buzz, I decided it were best if I went home too.

‘I’m calling it guys.’ I announced, standing and stretching out my tired limbs before I grabbed my purse and jacket.

‘How are you getting home?’ Hotch asked, standing with me.

‘I’m gonna call an Uber.’ I said, reaching into my bag for my phone, but his hand on my wrist stopped me.

‘Let me drive you, I’m heading out now anyway and it’s on my way home.’ He murmured, his eyes boring into mine. I could see that he really wanted me to accept his offer, but I knew if I said no he’d drop it and let me go.

‘Okay, if you don’t mind.’ I smiled, much preferring to get a ride home with someone I knew and trusted rather than have to wait in the cold for a stranger to pick me up.

‘Do you need a ride, Dave?’ Hotch asked as he slid on his own jacket.

I missed Rossi’s knowing smile as he answered, ‘nah, I’ve been on water for the most of the night, I’m fine to drive.’

‘Okay, see you in a few days!’ I kissed his cheek and walked with Aaron out of the bar, wondering if I was imagining the warmth from his hand seeping through my dress into my lower back.

He led me to his car, opened the passenger door for me and gently closed it before moving to the drivers side. I felt a smile form on my lips at the chivalrous act— I didn’t know people still did that anymore— and I was surprised at the butterflies that formed in my stomach from his actions. He turned the heat up as he drove, noticing the subtle way I was rubbing my upper arms in order to generate some warmth. I found myself falling asleep, which was surprising seeing as I had trouble falling asleep when I knew someone could see me. Call me crazy, but it was the truth. I didn’t realise just how close I was to being completely immersed into unconsciousness until we arrived at my apartment and Hotch murmured my name, softly, sweetly.

‘Hmm?’ I jolted awake, my cheek feeling like ice from where it had been resting against the window.

‘We’re here.’ He smiled, and if I’d been more awake, more focused, I would have noticed the fondness behind it.

‘Thank you.’ I blinked, trying to wake myself up a little more, ‘love you.’ I said, stepping out of the car and into my apartment building, which was coincidentally the same building as Emily’s. I was on the eighth floor and she was on the third.

It wasn’t until I was tucked up in bed, on the brink of falling asleep again that I realised what I’d said. To Hotch. To my boss. To the man I was secretly in love with. Suddenly completely awake, I sat up, my eyes wide with mortification.

It’s fine, you tell the team you love them all the time, he wouldn’t have interpreted it any other way. He wouldn’t. I took a deep calming breath and lay back down again.

It would be fine. Right?

When we returned to work, I came in a little earlier, determined to catch Hotch alone and offer him the cookies I’d made for him and Jack as a thank you for the ride home he’d given me. I also wanted to clear the air, test for any awkwardness that might be lingering from my surprising declaration. I was still clinging onto the hope that he hadn’t seen it as anything more than me confessing platonic love.

I placed my coat and bag onto my desk and continued on to Hotch’s office, expecting him to be here already. But I was surprised to find it empty. I frowned when I noticed his coat and briefcase weren’t here yet, meaning he wasn’t somewhere else in the building. With a disappointed sigh I placed the box of cookies on his desk and took a post it note and pen from one of his drawers and scribbled a note before sticking it onto the box.

Hotch,

A thank you for taking me home the other night, I really appreciate it.

I made chocolate chip and walnut for you.

The chocolate chip ones I decorated in a spider man theme are for Jack, and you if he wants to share.

Thanks again,

Y/N.

I walked to the small kitchenette and poured myself a cup of coffee before heading to my desk. Seeing as no one would be in for another hour and a half— at the earliest— I decided to get started on some paperwork. I was surprised at how quickly I got through it, being as a stack so large would have taken me all night any other day. I guessed doing it first thing allowed for maximum concentration, and I was just moving the final file over to the done pile when the first agent arrived.

‘Spence!’ I cheered, my smile melting into a sheepish expression when he jumped, ‘sorry! I’m just so happy to see another person, I’ve been here since 7 and the empty room was really starting to freak me out.’

He chuckled, placing his satchel and jacket on his desk before coming over to mine and accepting the hug I offered him. I loved hugging Spence; he was almost a foot taller than me, so when his arms wrapped around me he made me feel tiny and safe. He was like the twin I’d always wanted— we were similar in age, we liked the same movies and we were both a little socially awkward and trying to figure out who we were.

‘Why did you come in so early?’ He asked after we’d pulled apart, the both of us heading to the coffee machine, his arm around my shoulders.

‘I made cookies for Hotch and Jack and wanted to drop them off before the team could see and complain I hadn’t made them any.’ I told him, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

‘Smart.’ The genius snorted, pouring some coffee into my mug and then his own.

‘What did you get up to yesterday?’ I wondered as we headed back to my desk—I’d actually seen him on one of the days we’d had off as we’d had a Star Wars marathon. It was something we made a point to do at least once every three months.

‘Nothing really, just boring domestic stuff.’ He shrugged, wheeling his chair over to my desk.

‘Same, well that and baking,’ I shrugged.

‘What’s the matter?’ He explained when I frowned in confusion, ‘you sighed, that’s your tell.’

I sighed again, biting my lip and looking over to Hotch’s still dark office, ‘can you keep a secret?’

‘You know I can, Y/N.’ He assured me, and I knew he was right.

‘I’m having certain... feelings for someone I shouldn’t be, and I’m just struggling to get over it.’ I admitted, looking down at my coffee cup to avoid his observant eyes.

‘You mean Hotch?’ He clarified, and my gaze found his, shocked and surprised at his casual question.

‘You know?’ I squeaked, putting my mug down before I dropped it, ‘does anyone else?’

‘I don’t think so, I mean I’ve known for a while now, but I didn’t say anything because I figured you’d tell me if you wanted me to know.’ He shrugged and his calm attitude quelled my anxiety a little.

‘Okay well yes, I’m in love with Hotch and I don’t know how to make it stop.’ I sighed, running a hand through my hair, ‘I know he’ll never look at me that way, plus he’s my boss everyone would see it as inappropriate and that’s not even factoring in the age gap. I’ve tried dating other men but I just compare them to him and find them lacking, or they end up being total jerks and well you know about the guy Pen set me up with.’

He nodded, his brow crinkled with sympathy.

‘I know what you’re going through. Well, kind of.’ He bit his lip, running a hand through his chocolate locks, ‘it took me a while to get over JJ.’

‘I didn’t know you liked her.’ I admitted softly, my hand reaching out to squeeze his.

‘I did, for about a year, until I realised that she was never going to see me that way. Then she met Will and had Henry so it was easier for me to move on.’ He explained, taking a sip of his coffee, ‘how long have you been in love with him?’

‘I’ve had feelings for him since I met him, but I never really paid them any mind until we were on our way back from a case on the jet. Everyone was asleep and Hotch was on his way back from the bathroom, on his way he stopped and covered JJ and Prentiss with blankets, and got you a pillow and put it under your head. When he saw that I was still awake he just smiled at me and sat down next to Rossi. He didn’t say a word and in that moment I realised I loved him.’ My voice was low, but still loud enough for Spencer to hear, and though neither of us knew it, it was loud enough for Hotch to hear from the kitchenette, neither of us aware of his presence, ‘that was almost two years ago.’

‘You should tell him.’ Spence said, his hand entwining with mine, knowing the warmth of his hand would offer me some comfort.

‘Why? It won’t change anything for the good. He’ll tell me I’m his subordinate, that a relationship would be inappropriate, that he’d never be interested even if I didn’t work for him. I’ll be heartbroken and embarrassed and it could change the whole team dynamic. I don’t want that to happen.’ I sighed, looking down and fighting to stop any tears from falling. But like I said, Spence was like my twin, he knew when I was upset and I was bundled up in his arms before I could take another breath. The tears fell in earnest then as I sobbed against his chest, knowing I needed this moment to pull myself together before the rest of the team arrived.

‘So what are you going to do?’ He murmured against my hair.

‘Suffer in silence and hope I don’t die alone.’ I said, sarcasm heavy in my tone, but it wasn’t enough to completely disguise the fear in my choice.

‘Hey,’ he pulled back to look into my eyes, to allow me to see the sincerity behind his next words, ‘no matter what, you’ll never be alone, I promise you that. We’re all a family here, Y/N. You know that.’

A soft smile formed on my lips, ‘thanks Spence. You’re the best twin ever.’

We chuckled together and I pulled away to wipe the moisture from my cheeks before looking at the time on my watch. 8:45. The team would be arriving soon.

‘I’m gonna go and clean up.’ I murmured leaning over to pick up my bag and missing Hotch making his escape to the hallway so he wouldn’t be seen when I stood up.

‘Okay.’ Spence’s voice was soft and he returned the smile I sent him as I left for the bathroom.

By the time I’d ran some cold water over my face, reapplied my make up and ran a brush through my hair, I looked like I had when I first stepped through the doors this morning. No evidence of my morning heart-to-heart with Dr Spencer Reid remained as I made my way back to my desk, placing my bag onto my chair and joining the others in the conference room.

‘Sorry, I was just in the bathroom.’ I murmured, feeling the embarrassed flush form on my cheeks. Only I could arrive two hours early and still be late for the briefing.

‘It’s no problem,’ Hotch replied, nodding at Garcia to continue relaying the case.

I didn’t notice his eyes flicker back to me after I’d opened the case file, his dark eyes swimming with adoration, concern and sadness for a moment before his guards rose again and his attention shifted back to Garcia.

Reid however noticed the glance and felt his heart squeeze with hope. Y/N might not have noticed Hotch’s behaviour towards her, but he certainly had. He doubted anyone else on the team had observed the same things he had, because his eidetic memory didn’t allow him to miss anything. The glances, the fond looks, the concern for her during cases, how his expression softened at her happiness, how he made sure that there was always a supply of chocolate pop tarts in the kitchenette at work, because Y/N often forgot to eat during cases and he knew the sweet treat would offer her at least some nutrition and a pick-me-up for the particularly hard days.

Y/N didn’t know about any of it, and he’d considered telling her, but he knew she wouldn't believe him, and also it wasn’t his place to reveal. If Hotch wanted her to know, he’d tell her himself, he didn’t want to cause her any pain if he did reveal his observations only for Hotch to shoot it down and hurt her. He shook his head and focused on the briefing, reiterating some statistics on Florida.

He just hoped it all worked out for his friends. They deserved happiness.

A weary sigh left my lips as I wondered to my desk, eyeing the stack of paperwork and deciding to stay late and get it done; it was better than letting it build up to obscene levels. We’d just returned from Florida after ten days tracking a man who kidnapped families, held them for a week and then murdered them all. We’d managed to catch him before he killed the new family he’d abducted and I was beyond relieved, as was the rest of the team as we always were when we managed to save someone.

I glanced over to my right, eyeing Emily’s tired eyes with a soft smile. She’d stayed behind to finish paperwork like I had, but I could tell she was about ten minutes away from passing out. Seeing as I’d already managed to finish the few I’d accumulated on my desk, I wheeled my chair over to her desk and snatched up her remaining six files. It would take me another hour and a half, but it was worth it if she’d go home to sleep.

‘Y/N, what are you doing?’ She yawned, pushing her chair away from her desk.

‘Go home, Em.’ I told her, my voice gentle but firm. I continued when I saw her hesitate, despite her desire to take me up on the offer, ‘I’m serious, go home and snuggle your cat. Get some sleep.’

‘Are you sure?’ She murmured, another yawn escaping her lips.

‘I’m sure. Get outta here.’ I winked, turning and hiding my own yawn in my fist as I placed her files on my desk.

‘Thanks Y/N. Love you.’ She hugged me from behind and left with a kiss to my cheek.

‘You better.’ I yelled after her, smiling at her tired laughter.

I turned and started to work, I vaguely registered the elevator open and close as I filled in the report efficiently and quickly. I was determined to get through the remaining files before the exhaustion seeped in and took me over, too. I could feel it lingering in the back of my mind, just waiting to strike, but I hoped my concentration and the coffee I was drinking would hold it off long enough for me to finish. I also put Taylor Swift’s new album ‘Folklore’ on shuffle quietly in the back ground, hoping to prevent the empty floor freaking me out for as long as possible.

I was humming along with my tears ricochet as I signed the last file, tossing it onto the separate finished pile for Emily. I placed them back onto her desk and sat back down at mine, yawning as I turned off the music and just took a moment to relax. Of course in hindsight, that was a mistake, because I was exhausted and vulnerable to sleep. I didn't remember my head falling to rest on top of my arms, nor did I remember closing my eyes, but the next thing I knew was a large, warm hand on my lower back, gently rubbing back and forth to carefully rouse me from sleep.

‘Hotch?’ I murmured, my voice thick with sleep as I blinked, trying to wake myself properly. I looked down to my watch and saw the time: 2:45am, the last time I’d looked it had been 1am.

‘You should go home and get some sleep.’ He said, his voice gentle as he rubbed my back once more before moving away.

‘Yeah.’ I agreed, standing and stretching, a yawn leaving my mouth as I did, ‘what about you?’

‘I’m heading home now.’ He assured me, a small fond smile on his lips.

‘Okay.’ I offered him a grateful smile as he helped my uncoordinated, still partially unconscious self pull my jacket on.

‘Did you get my cookies?’ I wondered as we stood in the elevator that would take us to the parking garage.

‘I did.’ He smiled again, his eyes sparkling with that soft emotion again. I found myself returning the gesture, hoping he didn’t notice the flush that had most definitely formed on my cheeks.

‘Good.’ I said eventually, my brain apparently incapable of coming up with anything better as I leaned back against the wall, too exhausted to stand properly.

‘Jack will love the Spider-Man cookies. He’s still massively obsessed with him, I’m sure he’ll be his Halloween costume this year.’ Hotch mused, a small smile on his face as he spoke of his son.

People always assumed because Hotch was so authoritative and serious at work, that he wasn’t capable of smiling ever. But that wasn’t the case, sometimes his humour did find a way to integrate itself at work, but whenever a case was over, he became much more relaxed and smiled a lot easier as the responsibility from his job eased from his shoulders for a little while. What I didn’t know, was that he never relaxed around anyone else as much as he did around me.

‘I don’t know.’ I pursed my lips to hide my knowing smile, ‘Jack might have already mentioned what he was going to dress up as for Halloween this year last week over the family picnic.’

Hotch had invited the team to spend some time at the park with him and Jack. Garcia had insisted on turning it into a picnic, and had insisted on my help for preparing the food, seeing as I’d been preparing meals for Hotch, and sometimes Jack, for months now so I knew what they would like. It had been a huge success, and I had been reminded again what an amazing father Aaron was to Jack, he was an amazing kid.

‘Really, what’s that?’ He asked, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

‘Sorry, I’m sworn to secrecy.’ I winked and then blushed immediately after when I remembered exactly who I was winking at. I cleared my throat, ‘but something tells me you’ll love it.’

‘I’m sure I will.’ His voice became soft as his eyes stared into mine, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was talking about something else.

I was as powerless to look away from him as I always was, he had this captivating aura around him, this powerful personality that you couldn't help but submit to. Or maybe it was just me who felt his bewitchment so strongly because of my additional feelings for him. Either way, he didn’t look away from me until the elevator dinged, announcing our arrival to the parking garage. Even then, it took him a moment longer and I found myself wondering what he saw when he looked at me that made him so reluctant to break eye contact. When he did, look away, I became aware of how fast my heart was beating, how erratic my breath had become and as I walked to my car I was overcome with embarrassment, because it was something that wouldn’t have escaped his notice.

‘Goodnight, Y/N.’ He didn’t speak above his usual volume, but it was easy to hear him in the near empty garage.

‘Goodnight, Sir.’ I replied, climbing into my car and taking a deep breath, before turning on my car and driving away.

When Foyet had attacked Hotch, I had been the one to track him down at the hospital. I had refused to leave his side while I waited for him to wake up, tears trailing uncontrollably down my face as I took in his weakened state. I’d hated seeing him so pale, so vulnerable, and when the rest of the team had been informed after the new case had been solved, so had they. It had been awful, even more so when he woke and immediately went into profiler mode. He discovered that Hayley and Jack were in danger and ordered for them to be taken into protective custody before he passed out again. I’d stayed while the team went to retrieve them both, holding his hand until he regained consciousness.

‘Hey,’ he murmured, his dark eyes on mine. I went to remove my hand from his, but he tightened his grip and prevented me from doing so. I saw the soft look in his eyes again and relaxed my grip, looking down to hide my tears.

‘Hey.’ I replied, realising I’d said nothing in response to his greeting. I winced when I heard how rough my voice was, a sure sign I’d been crying.

‘You’ve been crying.’ It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact.

‘Only Aaron Hotchner would be profiling from his hospital bed.’ I teased, my heart feeling a little lighter at the amusement that formed on his expression.

‘Not profiling, just paying attention.’ He said, his voice low and weak and it made my heart hurt.

‘Of course I’ve been crying, you’re in a hospital bed, I walked into your apartment to find blood on the floor, and found you here with multiple stab wounds.’ I frowned, the images replaying themselves through my brain.

‘Hey.’ He squeezed my hand and my gaze returned to his, his dark eyes soft and reassuring, ‘I’m okay, Y/N. A little beat up, but I’m going to live and that’s all that matters.’

I started into his eyes for a long moment before nodding. That’s all that matters. He was right of course, but we both knew the only reason that was true, was because Foyet wasn’t finished with him yet, he wanted to watch him fall apart without his son and ex-wife in his life. But I refused to even think about that, because we were going to find him, and until we did, the whole team would be there for him. We wouldn't let him lose himself like the previous detective Foyet made a deal with had.

‘I’m really glad you’re alive.’ I admitted with a whisper, my eyes glazing over with tears, and I knew that my eyes were essentially an open book in that moment, my guards had crumbled to rubble over the past twenty four hours. I knew he could see just how relieved I was that he was okay, as his eyes glimmered with that unidentifiable emotion again as he squeezed my hand, telling me he was glad too.

My hand stayed grasped in his until Hayley and Jack arrived.

When we found Foyet, it hadn’t been before he’d managed to track down Hayley and Jack. Without a doubt, it had been the hardest case any of us had to work, hearing Hayley tell Hotch goodbye before we heard the gunshots that told us she’d been murdered. We all raced to the house to find Hotch beating Foyet beyond his death, not letting up until I placed a hand on his shoulder, the soft touch making him pause immediately.

‘He’s gone, Hotch.’ I murmured, squeezing his shoulder as he sobbed, ‘where’s Jack?’

‘Jack.’ He sobbed, jerking up from the ground and sprinting upstairs. I followed him, knowing he wouldn’t want Jack to see him the way he was, covered in blood, long enough to ask questions.

He ran to his office, falling to his knees next to the window seat and lifting it up to reveal a smiling and proud Jack.

‘I worked the case, daddy!’ He cheered as Aaron lifted him from inside the seat before pulling the lid back down.

‘You did a good job, buddy.’ He smiled through his tears, gripping his sons shoulders and kissing his forehead.

Prentiss stepped into the room behind me, her eyes soft with sympathy and heartbreak— the same look held in everyone’s eyes in that moment.

‘Hey Jack, why don’t we leave your daddy to clean up, huh? I’ll take you downstairs and you can play with the sirens in the car.’ Prentiss said, forcing her tone to appear cheery.

‘Can I daddy?’ Jack pleaded, his smile bright.

‘Of course buddy,’ Aaron said, squeezing his sons shoulder once more before Jack darted to Prentiss. She took his hand and led him from the room.

I didn’t remember moving to kneel in front of him, but I suddenly was, my arms wrapping around his neck as his head rested onto my shoulder. I held him as he sobbed, his tears trailing down my neck and shoulder, my hands moved comfortingly through his hair as he held me in a rib breaking grip. I held him until his throat was raw from crying, until his tears dried up, until he felt strong enough to pull away from my hold. At that point, no one had stepped into the room. I assumed the team had deduced that Aaron would need some time, and had kept everyone away knowing Hotch would hate anyone to see him vulnerable.

‘I’m so sorry, Hotch.’ I murmured, my eyes glazed over with tears at the sight of his pain.

‘I know.’ I could see the small spark of gratitude in his eyes among the pain, the grief, the worry, ‘we should clean up.’

I frowned at his use of ‘we’ until I glanced down and saw that I was covered in blood too; it must have transferred over as I comforted him. I nodded and took the hand he offered me to help me from the floor. He led moved to the small closet in the corner— I assumed he kept clothes in his office during his marriage to Hayley to avoid disturbing her if he got called into a case at odd hours of the morning. He pulled out a shirt and dress pants for himself before turning to me.

‘I think Hayley still has some clothes here.’ He said and it took me a second to understand what he meant. When I did I shook my head, almost a little to vigorously, but I couldn’t help it, wearing her clothes, when she was lying dead in the other room just didn’t seem right.

Hotch nodded in understanding, handing me a plain grey T-shirt that obviously belonged to him. I wondered into the en-suite, taking off my vest and unbuttoning my blouse before tugging the shirt over my head, tying it in a knot at my waist to make it more form fitting. I then washed my forearms and hands, watching the water run a light pink as I scrubbed away the blood. A few tears fell while I worked, but I forced myself to get it under control before I left the bathroom— this wasn’t about me, it wasn’t acceptable for me to fall apart right then. When I emerged from the bathroom, Aaron entered. As I waited for him to return I took deep and even breaths to keep myself in control of my emotions. While none of the team had been particularly close to Hayley, we all loved her because she’d loved Aaron, our leader, the man we looked up to, the man we trusted to make the tough decisions. And so, his grief, his loss was going to be felt by the entire team. I couldn’t even imagine how this was going to effect Jack, who was young enough to potentially not understand that his mom was never coming home.

I wiped away my tears and cleared my throat as the door opened and Hotch joined me in his office. I could see the concern in his eyes so I must have looked bad. I felt myself shake my head, amazed that even while he was feeling the worst pain he’d ever felt, he still took notice and cared about those around him.

‘Come on, you should get to Jack before he drives the neighbours insane with those sirens.’ I managed a smile that became more genuine at his breathy laugh as we walked down the stairs.

Everything was going to be okay, I’d make sure of it.

It had been six months since Hayley’s passing and life was starting to form a new normal for all of us. The team all offered their help once him and Jack had settled into his apartment. Aaron had respectfully declined, insisting he wanted to find out and adjust to being a single parent without the help. We all acknowledged his wishes, but made a point of us all going on a day trip at any available opportunity— that ended up being once a month.

Despite what he said, I continued to bring in prepared meals to work, more often than before and always for him and Jack, knowing that the last thing he’d have the energy for when he got home would be cooking. Plus, this meant he had more time to spend with his son before he tucked him in, and well I didn’t need to explain why that was a plus. He thanked me gratefully every time, and after a few months, he started inviting me over for dinner with him and Jack at least once a week. Sometimes it would be on one of our rare days off, or it would be after a long case before we started a new one the next day. Either way those dinners became the highlight of my week, primarily because of the company; I loved seeing Hotch relaxed and happy, which he always was around Jack, and I loved hearing Jack’s endless stories about school, or the imaginary world he’d created in one of his drawings. At first the domesticity of the gatherings threw me for a loop, but I continually reminded myself that I was there as a friend and nothing more until it sunk in. And so, we settled into a comfortable routine where I was blissfully ignoring the way my love for him only seemed to grow deeper the more time I spent with him. How was I to know that it was all going to go up in flames?

It was any other Monday morning as I rode the elevator up to the BAU floor, but when I stepped out and noticed everyone already gathered around the conference table, a bad feeling started to form in my gut. I dropped my jacket and purse off at my desk before heading into the room, not liking the way everyone’s eyes turned to me.

‘Am I late?’ I frowned, sliding into my usual seat in between Reid and JJ.

‘No, you’re right on time.’ Rossi assured me, his eyes flickering over to Aaron.

‘What’s going on?’ I asked, noticing there weren’t any files in front of anyone that would indicate a new case.

‘Johnathan Rivers is going to be put to death next week.’ Hotch started, and I felt myself tense at the name, ‘he’s revealed that there are more victims we didn’t even know he’d taken. He’s offered to reveal their names and locations in exchange for something.’ He continued when I didn’t ask, ‘he wants to be interviewed by you and me.’

‘Why?’ I couldn’t fathom why he would want Hotch there. Me I could understand— I was the victim that got away, he probably wanted to taunt me with details of what he’d done to the other women we hadn’t saved, to torture me with the guilt and knowledge of what I’d escaped when so many others hadn’t.

‘I don’t know.’ Aaron admitted, knowing that I wasn’t asking about me, but I got the feeling he wasn’t being completely truthful when his eyes darted from mine after he spoke, ‘if you don’t want to do this, I understand.’

‘Of course I don’t want to do this.’ I huffed a laugh, but it was void of humour, ‘but I’m not going to put me being uncomfortable above providing families with closure. When do we leave?’

He studied my expression for what felt like a long moment before he nodded and dismissed us with, ‘wheels up in ten. The rest of the team will remain behind to assist on any cases that come in.’

Everyone nodded and stood from the table. I headed for the bathroom, needing a moment to compose myself before I grabbed my go back from underneath my desk. I ran my hands underneath the cool water, taking a deep breath and trying to keep the memories from the forefront of my mind.

His sadistic smile. His hands running over my body. Not being able to move to stop him. No. Stop it. Get off me.

My breath caught in my throat and I braced my hands on the sink, ignoring the tears falling down my cheeks in favour of getting my breathing under control. If I didn’t I was going to hyperventilate and have a panic attack. But that knowledge didn’t help, it only seemed to make the invisible noose around my neck grow tighter and I fell to my knees, my vision becoming spotty and the shallow breaths I took feeling like fire in my throat.

‘Y/N.’ I’d know that authoritative voice anywhere, but at the moment I couldn’t bring myself to respond. I felt his hand envelop my right, squeezing it tightly as he continued, ‘you need to take deep breaths. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Match your breathing to mine.’ His voice was low, commanding and impossible to ignore, as he took his breaths I tried my best to mirror him, encouraged as he whispered soft reassurances to me whenever a deep breath broke into several shallow, panicked breaths. I don’t know how long he stayed there with me for, my hand in his, whispering encouragements and continually reminding me to match my breathing to his, but eventually I regained control and a long, relieved sigh left me when I realised it was over.

My forehead fell against his shoulder, exhaustion falling over me as I soaked his suit jacket with my tears. I hated panic attacks. They sucked, in truth I’d forgotten just how much. Hotch’s hand stroked my hair while the other rubbed soothing circles into my lower back. He never once complained, never gave the impression that he was getting impatient with how long it was taking me to pull myself together.

But when I did lift my head from his shoulder, my hands resting on the tops of his muscled arms for support the first words I said were, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You have nothing to be sorry for.’ His eyes were sincere and reassuring, and I felt the tension in my chest ease a little.

I nodded, my head falling back to his shoulder. In the back of my mind I knew there was no need for me to still be clinging to him like this, that we were shifting more towards inappropriate behaviour the longer he held me in his arms, but I couldn’t bring myself to care, and seeing as he wasn’t in a hurry to pull away I didn't either. We stayed there for a few minutes longer but the moment was broken when his phone started to ring in his suit jacket. I reluctantly pulled back and stood with him as he pulled out the device and answered it.

‘Hotchner.’ He said, his voice slipping back into his usual stern work tone.

I tuned out of the conversation, wiping my cheeks and running some cold water over my face. I didn't have my bag with me so I couldn’t apply fresh make up to make my face look less tear stained, which was frustrating but it was what it was. I blotted my face dry and offered Hotch a reassuring smile as he examined my expression once again.

‘I’m fine.’ I told him once he’d hung up the phone.

‘Are you sure? When I said you didn’t have to do this, I meant it.’ He murmured, his eyes softening with sincerity.

‘I know you did, but I meant it when I said I wouldn’t put my discomfort above giving families closure.’ I sighed, gesturing towards the door, ‘we should get going.’

He nodded, guiding me from the room with a hand hovering above my lower back. I grabbed my go bag and purse from my desk, relieved the rest of the team was in the conference room again, most likely being briefed on another case. If they’d seen me in my current state, I was sure I’d have more people to convince that I was up to this.

We boarded the jet, taking one of the double seats next to each other. We spent most of the flight in silence, Hotch spent time going over the past cases, but I couldn't bring myself to, worried seeing what he’d done to those other women would trigger a panic attack. I took time to properly pull myself together, knowing I couldn’t sit across from a psychopath anything less than guarded and prepared. By the time the jet’s wheels touched down on the tarmac, I was ready to face him.

‘It’s nice to see you again.’ His smile was the same, it still sent a slither of discomfort down my spine, but I refused to let it show on my face.

‘We’re here as you requested, now give us the names and locations of the victims we missed.’ Hotch said, I could see him out of my peripheral vision, he was sat straight, quietly confident and his tone was stern. But Rivers hadn’t stopped staring at me, and I wasn’t about to break first.

‘Names,’ Hotch prompted after a moment, his tone hardening.

He finally looked away and I took in the smug upturn of his lips and the malice that glittered in his eyes. I didn’t know what he was going to say, but I knew it wasn’t going to be good.

‘I’ll tell you what you want to know.’ His eyes flickered to me again, and when Aaron cleared his throat to attract his gaze, the smile that grew on his face was that of a sharks, ‘if you tell me something first.’

‘What do you want to know?’ He asked, a confused frown forming on his face.

‘What I would like to know is how you function so well as a team when you’re clearly in love with one another.’ He said and I felt my blood run cold. Of all the ways I’d pictured Hotch finding out about my feelings for him, this was most definitely not on the top ten list.

Neither of us spoke, and he took that as a sign to continue as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed arrogantly against his chest, ‘I noticed the night you arrested me. While I was cuffed and led away by your brawny agent you rushed over to her. Now love is not something I understand myself but I’ve witnessed it on others, specifically on the two of you that night. The way you held her, the way she relaxed with your arms around her, the way you refused to leave her alone and carried her over to the ambulance when she passed out.’

I’ve witnessed it on others, specifically the two of you that night.

Specifically the two of you that night.

The two of you.

He didn’t mean... did he?

I banished that train of thought before it could run away from me. Rivers didn’t know what he was talking about, he just wanted to rile us up, to exert the minimal control he still had to play with us and feel some form of accomplishment. I took a breath and leaned back in my seat, making a show of rolling my eyes. I’d be damned if I was going to let this psycho see just how well he’d pin pointed and played on my insecurities.

‘Not that it’s any of your business,’ I examined my nails, knowing not giving him my full attention would play on his superiority complex. Like I said, most domineering personalities were arrogant and incredibly narcissistic— Johnathan Rivers possessed that particular characteristic in spades, ‘but the way I feel for Agent Hotchner is no different than how I feel for the rest of my team. I love them all and they’re like family to me. Now I don’t know what you think you witnessed, but I assure you, your assumptions are false.’

I leaned forward to look him in the eyes and when he suddenly jolted forward, to make a grab for me, I refused to flinch and continued to meet his eye. I felt Hotch lean forward too, slamming his hand onto the metal table and once again demanding the names.

‘What’s the matter Agent Hotchner? Nervous about sharing your own feelings on the subject?’ He asked, but chuckled at Aaron’s dark glare, ‘fine. Wendy Grooves, Sarah Jones, Victoria McMillan and Melinda Hewitt. All of them can be found buried underneath concrete in the basement of the house I owned. I had to move the dumping site when I ran out of room.’

Without another word Hotch and I stood, so simultaneous that it was almost as if we planned it, and strode from the room. He pulled out his phone to call Morgan to put together an extraction team to recover the bodies that we’d been given. We both headed for the jet afterwards, neither of us wanting to stay any longer there than we had to. I could feel the tension that crackled between us and how it seemed to intensify the longer we didn't talk. As much as I hated it, I didn’t want to be the one to break the silence, and so we stayed quiet until Hotch shifted in his seat across from me half way through our flight.

‘We should talk.’ He said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it, and when I looked up into his eyes I could see his hesitation along with that ever present soft emotion.

‘Okay.’ I reluctantly agreed, taking a deep breath and steeling myself for rejection, ‘I’ve been in love with you—.’

‘I know how you feel about me, Y/N.’ He cut me off, continuing when I blinked in confusion, ‘I had my suspicions before, but when I heard you talking to Reid almost a year ago, that confirmed it.’

‘You heard me.’ I repeated, feeling embarrassment swirling in my gut, ‘why didn’t you say anything?’

‘Because at the time, I was still dealing with getting over Hayley, and then she...’ he trailed off, closing his eyes for a moment, ‘then she died and I didn’t realise how much time had passed. And I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure I was ready to move on, until I was sure I could be completely invested in the relationship and not feeling guilty for moving on and being happy.’

I couldn’t believe my ears. The way he was talking it sounded like... like he had feelings for me too?

‘But I am ready to move on, Y/N. If you’re still willing to give me a chance?’ He asked, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions, the most prominent being hope. I couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward and taking his hands in mine.

‘I am absolutely sure I want to give you a chance, Aaron.’ I murmured, his following smile was contagious.

He leaned forward, his hands pulling away from mine to caress my face, gently wiping away the happy tears that fell down my cheeks. His forehead fell against mine, and I knew he was giving me the chance to pull away, to change my mind, and when I didn’t he leaned forward and sealed his mouth over mine. The kiss started off tentative, as all first kisses did, and when we’d become more familiar with one another, his hand lifted to my hair as he deepened the kiss. My hands slid into his midnight locks, enjoying the softness and tugging on the strands. I felt a groan vibrate in his chest and he pulled me closer, both of his hands lifting me by my waist and onto his lap. One hand trailed down my back, the other fell to the side of my neck, his thumb moving back and forth over my pulse point. Before the kiss could deepen any further, we reluctantly pulled apart, our lungs in dire need of oxygen. Our foreheads rested against each other, our erratic breath mingling as we worked to get it under control. Once we’d recovered more, he placed a chaste kiss to my lips, then my nose, then each eye lid before finishing with my forehead. I chuckled breathlessly, my heart picking up again, as his hands rested on my cheeks and he stared at me with that soft emotion again. Only now I could see what it was, now that my mind wasn’t clouded with fear of misinterpretation. It was love.

‘We have some things we need to discuss.’ He murmured after a while, ever the boss.

‘I know.’ My hand covered his left on my cheek, shifting it so I could kiss his palm before I entwined our fingers together.

‘I don’t think we should tell the team right away, while we figure things out and get into our own rhythm without having to worry about being over assessed when they know.’ He said, his other hand moved through my hair, a smile forming on his lips when I leaned into his touch, ‘and we’ll have to file a relationship form with Strauss.’

‘Sounds good to me.’ And it did, hearing him talk about what we would need to do once we’d found dynamic as a couple, made it seem more real and long lasting.

After that, we didn’t talk much, and I didn’t move from his lap. My head rested against his shoulder, my face nuzzled into his neck. His hand moved through my hair while his other held a case file that he was reading, apparently it was one JJ had asked for a second opinion on. I didn’t remember exactly when I fell asleep, but the last thought that ran though my mind was one word.

Safe.

It was three weeks later that Aaron and I went on our first date. We’d spent time together in between of course, but we’d only had the odd day off since and that time was meant for Jack, which I understood. I loved the little guy so if spending time with Aaron meant spending time with Jack too, it was hardly a hardship and more of a blessing. Which is why I didn’t push for us to have our first date, knowing that he cared for me as I cared for him practically had me walking on air. But when he asked me out to dinner and a movie, and told me that Jack was with is aunt for the night, I found myself feeling nervous with butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I’d dressed in a form fitting slinky dark purple body con dress, paired with some black flats. I’d curled my hair and clipped it back so it fell down the centre of my back, my make up was light and I was wearing lip balm over lipstick— I didn’t want to have to worry about topping it up throughout the night.

His knock at the door made the butterflies swarm again and I opened the door with a smile. I felt my eyes dilate with attraction as I took him in— he was wearing his usual dress shoes and pants, but the way he wore his shirt made me want to drool. It was pale blue, his top two buttons were undone, allowing me to spy some chest hair, and his cuffs were rolled up to his forearms. I couldn't help the way my gaze lingered on the veins that protruded from his arms, and when I finally managed to meet his eyes again I noticed they were alight with attraction and pleasure at my reaction to him.

‘You look...gorgeous.’ I said, for lack of a better word. His smile grew on his lips as he reached forward, taking my hand in his. My free hand fell to his forearm, running along his veins and enjoying the softness of his skin.

‘Thank you, honey.’ He murmured, his hand moving to the side of my face, his thumb moving over my cheekbone, ‘you look breath taking.’

I blushed at the compliment, placing a kiss to his palm in thanks. As I grabbed my keys and my card wallet, I realised I hadn’t grabbed a bag to carry them in, before I could Aaron took them from my hands and placed them in his back pocket with a wink that made my heart skip a beat.

As we walked to the elevator, he told me about how Jack had taken his FBI badge into school for show and tell, without telling him about it first. He’d worried that he’d misplaced it, or left it in Detroit— the last place we’d gone to for a case—until Jack had come home and told his dad about his day. He’d told him he shouldn’t take things without asking, but he’d been more touched than mad.

When we arrived at the restaurant, we sat next to one another in the privacy of a booth, eating Italian food and drinking wine. We spent the night basking in each other’s company, sharing stories, laughing and deciding to order dessert when we realised we’d lost track of time and missed the movie. But I didn’t mind, I preferred it actually instead of being in a place where we couldn’t share conversation. We stayed until an apologetic waiter told us they were closing and asked us to leave. And we drove back to his apartment, his hand entwined with mine and his other on the steering wheel as music from the radio played quietly.

‘Jack has a play date tomorrow morning, so Jessica won’t be bringing him home until the afternoon.’ Hotch murmured to me as we stepped into his apartment.

‘Oh really, so no early start tomorrow?’ I grinned, a sigh of contentment leaving me as his hands rested on my waist.

‘Which is good, because when I’m through with you, I think you’ll need your rest to recover.’ He spoke quietly against the skin of my throat in between kisses.

There was no arrogance in his voice, he was confident but quietly so, and I assumed he had a reason to be. He wasn’t the kind of man who was self assured without knowing it to be true.

‘Hmm... I think you’re all talk, Hotchner.’ I teased, but it was rendered pointless as a quiet moan left my throat when his lips latched onto the sensitive spot behind my ear.

He chuckled against my skin, not bothering to respond as my behaviour had already told him everything he needed to know. My hands wound in his hair as his lips continued their exploration, grateful for his grip on my lower back, as without the support I was sure my knees would have buckled. My head fell against the back of the front door as my breathing became erratic, while his lips trailed over my collarbone and down between the valley of my breasts. His hand slid the thin strap down my arm, and allowing him to move the fabric of my dress and close his mouth around my nipple. I moaned, feeling myself grow hotter as his hand moved down my legs, slipping under the satin fabric and trailing up my bare leg and stopping behind my knee. He lifted my right leg to hook around his waist, and then did the same with my left, his lips never stopping in their pleasurable torment on my chest. I barely noticed him carrying me to his bedroom, until my back was met with the cool temperature of his sheets. His lips returned to mine, the kiss full of passion, lust and when our tongues met, a battle for dominance that he won with minimal effort.

As we became lost in each other, as he moved inside of me, as he whispered praises and encouragements in my ear, as we reached our climaxes together, I found myself fall that little bit more in love with him. Because, he was gentle, he took care of me and my desires, and he found pleasure in doing so, just as I knew he would.

Much later, as we both lay back to regather our breath and exhaustion overcame me, I found myself thinking— there was no way us being together would feel so natural, so right, if we weren’t meant to be. And in that moment, I knew we were.

Aaron Hotchner was my soulmate.

A/N: This came to me after I read of terrible coffee and late night rides by @venusbarnes It’s absolutely wonderful and if you haven’t read it yet, and like Aaron Hotchner imagines, you can find it on their Masterlist. Trust me, you’ll love it.

I hope ya’ll liked this one, I know it’s long, but I just couldn’t bring myself to stop. Whoops.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #criminal minds

350 notes · View notes