#stream pass the mic
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Jungwon: thank you for this award, I'll now pass the mic to one of my members.
Jungwon: *passes mic to Sunoo*
Sunoo: *passes mic to Heeseung*
Heeseung: *passes mic to Ni-ki*
Ni-ki: *passes mic to Sunghoon*
Sunghoon: *passes mic to Jay*
Jay: *passes mic to Jake*
Jake:... *passes mic back to Jungwon*
Jungwon:
#nono this all just a part of their concept#stream pass the mic#incorrect quotes#incorrect kpop quotes#incorrect enhypen#enhypen#kpop#jungwon#heeseung#jay#jake#sunghoon#sunoo#ni ki
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SPEAKING OF THE 3️⃣🥂📿 MODELLING EVENT
#this is vee speaking#SOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SOOOOOOOOOOOOON!!!!!!!!!!!! 🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜#lol the last stream with iwasaki-san and ishiya-san where they revealed our next hosts#hayama-san tweeted out something like#‘i had the thought to ask if the three of us could use a magic mic that could control the flow of the world thru our sound#‘but ultimately let the thought pass’ and when i say i haven’t stopped thinking about it out of sheer confusion LOL#and then kijima-san responded with ‘yikes’ LOL#if it’s world domination that hayama-san seeks then ig i’ll support him in this endeavour as well lmao#🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜🔜
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Prettiest boy at the fansign
Creds: @/lip_jake1115 on twitter !
#silver#hair#suits#him#so#well#enhypen#enhypen imagines#jake#enhypen jake#jake sim#enhypen x reader#stream pass the mic!!!!!
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antonychenn so cute
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the slip up l lando norris x reader
request/summary – lando and reader are in a secret established relationship, until lando accidentally slips up on stream
author's notes – first piece of writing, feedback appreciated!!! this is just my thoughts written down honestly, i didn’t have much idea where i was going with it so enjoy.
Max was streaming with Lando at his place. Lando drags his feet over to the stream room, sitting on a chair next to Max. He was scrolling on his phone, trying to pass the time.
“Mate, I’m gonna leave, you’re being so boring,” Lando joked under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair.
“I’ll make things more interesting then. Chat, wanna know something really interesting about Lando?” Max asked with a mischievous smile as he looked back at Lando. Lando watched with suspicion of what max could say next.
“Lando’s got a secret girlfriend,” Max sings to annoy Lando. Lando’s eyes shot up, his heart pounding as he turned off his phone, the same phone he was using to text you, his girlfriend. “I don’t, chat, don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to piss me off,” Lando says as he shoots Max a glare.
—————
A few months later, everyone has chalked up that interaction to Max simply trying to annoy and rile up Lando, and no one thought much of it. On a miracle of a night in spring, Lando was in Monaco and decided to stream. He had a hoodie on, his hair all messy, but a smile on his face. About an hour into the stream, I knock on the door of his stream room quietly. Lando immediately turned off his video and mic, telling chat to give him a minute.
I walk in, a black slip dress on with a cropped white cardigan, my hair and makeup done all fancy. “Hi, baby,” Lando says as he pulls me in by the waist, onto his lap. “Girls night tonight, right?” He says with a soft smile. He always makes sure to pay attention to anything I’ve mentioned to him, including my plans to hang out with Lily and Carmen tonight, Alex and George’s girlfriends.
I hum in response. “Yeah, we’re gonna get dinner and then take some Instagram photos,” I say as I stand up from his lap, “you like the dress? It’s new.” I give him a little twirl to show off the dress.
Lando smiles brightly. “I love it, baby, you look gorgeous. Like always,” he says as he leans in for a kiss. “Text me when you’re done and need me to pick you up, yeah?” I nod and smile.
Once I leave, Lando puts his headset back on, turning his mic and camera back on. He scrunches up his face as he’s met by shouting from Max into his headset. “What’s your problem, man?” Lando asks with confusion. Max sighs. “Lando, you had your mic on the whole time. People heard that whole conversation and I was trying to tell you but as always, you ignored me,” Max says with some frustration in his voice, but mostly amusement.
“Oh,” Lando says as he realizes what has happened. Not knowing what to do, Lando panics and ends stream.
When my friends and I reach the restaurant, we find it pouring rain, which was the most of our worries since the restaurant was outdoor. With frowns, we all pile back into the car and drive ourselves home. I arrive home only twenty minutes after I left, my dress soaked. My brows furrow in confusion to see Lando on the couch on his phone when i come back, and not on stream.
I slip off my shoes. “I thought you were streaming?” I ask softly as I make my way over to him. “What happened to you? You’re all soaked! Here, let me get you a towel and you can get dressed into some of my hoodie and sweats to get comfy,” Lando says, trying to avoid the fact that he had just live streamed his whole conversation with his girlfriend.
I saw the panic in Lando’s eyes. “Stop,” I say as I stood in front of him, “what did you do?” Lando shoots me a bright grin. “I love you, babe. So so much. And you know I’d do anything for you.” This made me even more suspicious. “Lan,” I say as my eyes narrowed.
“Okay, okay. I might have forgotten to mute my mic when we were talking right before you left. I swear I thought I had turned it off!” He says as he panics before beginning to ramble. “And I called you baby, and gorgeous, and your voice was heard too. And Max was telling me the whole time through my headset, but it was off and even if it were on, you know I don’t think about anything else when I’m with you. And there were thousands of people on the stream and you specifically told me you wanted to keep it private because you didn’t want to get hate crimed by the fans and you wouldn’t be able to handle it and I mean, I wanted to but it just slipped and im so so sorry but-“ He stops in confusion when a giggle escapes my lips. “Why aren’t you upset?” He asks slowly.
I smile as I slip my arms around his neck, his hands instinctively wrapping around my waist. “Well. Number one, you’re cute when you panic. Number two, no one saw me, so it’s okay. I mean, considering how in love you are with me, they were bound to find out at some point that you had a girlfriend,” I tease with a smile tugging at my lips.
He scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully at me. “Okay, yeah. I am absolutely in love with you. Still, you’re not bothered by this?” he asks slowly, hesitation lacing his voice.
“I promise I’m not. It was a mistake. Plus, that just means it’s gonna be all the more fun trying to watch them figure out who it is you’re dating,” I say playfully with a giggle.
“That’s true,” Lando says softly with a hum, “I love you.”
“I love you too. Although, don’t make me have to have you on adult supervision every time you stream now to make sure nothing else slips out of your mouth,” I tease as I playfully poke his side.
“Ah! Okay okay, promise,” he says with a giggle as he leans in for a gentle and loving kiss.
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We’re Not Private, She’s Just Shy - LN (Shy Series)
Summary: Unlike Lando, his girlfriend only has a big personality when they’re alone or at least with people who she knows well. But his fans and the media think that they’re trying to hide the relationship and keep it as private as possible.
Gonna make this a series - as requested I've written about how they met
Extrovert Meets Introvert
Lando’s big personality attracted y/n to him and her significantly more reserved personality piqued his interest to know her more. He learned a lot more and realised that once he passed that barrier, she’s a a very needy weirdo. But she’s shy so he’s only of few who are fortunate enough to learn about her weird side and he loves every second of it.
For the f1 driver, there’s no point in trying to hide her as his girlfriend. The media and fans always find out, they’ll do investigative stalking to find her. So he has never bothered to keep her from the media.
However, recently everyone has been assuming that they’re making extraordinary efforts to keep her hidden or that they’ve already broken up.
Given the relationship is actually going onto the 6 month milestone, the media and fans only caught onto the relationship a little over a month ago. But she’s been in and around the paddock since the first month and she’s been in with the McLaren team and in the garage watching races that whole time.
She does kind of keep her distance from him going around the paddock, not wanting any attention from his fans or anyone else who might jump at the opportunity of speaking to her because she’s next to her.
But eventually Lando is on a stream for Quadrant with Max and some of the subscribers are completely obsessed with y/n who is actually asleep just out of the frame of the camera.
“You might as well answer them, we can all see the questions irritating you.” Max comments earning a groan since Max has read out every question he’s found. He always likes to tease Lando in general but obviously teasing him about the girl that he is so protective over just makes for him to be such an easy target.
“Guys, listen. Y/n and I are not trying to be private. She’s just shy. Like the shyest person I’ve ever met.” Lando stresses while actually gesturing over to the sleeping young woman. “So she likes to stay out of the spotlight that comes with dating me by any means necessary. Max is just choosing to be a twat by not saying all this and being honest about it.”
“Because I think they should hear it from you. You are the one in the relationship after all.” Max argues while Lando notices y/n wake up, probably from the sound of distress in her boyfriend’s voice. “Lando?”
“I’m sorry, baby.” Lando states pulling his phones off but not nudging his mic away. “Come here.”
“You’re streaming.”
“That’s ok.” Lando smiles lightly, reassuring her softly while holding his hand out for her to take which she looks at with a pouted lip. “Everyone wants to see you anyway. Come on.”
He manages to pull her over into his lap as he hugs her and immediately her face is a bright red as she tries to hide her face behind the hood of the stolen McLaren hoodie.
“See guys, she’s just incredibly shy and if she wasn’t so shy she’d probably be whining at me about doing this.” Lando grins while reaching his head around to kiss her cheek and actually feeling the radiating burn of her face. “Isn’t she pretty though?”
“Stop.” Y/n murmurs too quiet for the mic to even pick up while Lando smiles holding her more tightly to himself when she tries to get up.
“Baby they think you’re trying to hide from them. I’m just trying to make them see we’re not hiding anything you’re just my shy girl.” Lando states while gently pushing her hair back from where she’s trying to hide behind it. “Alright, I’m not going to torture you anymore. You can go if you want, I won’t be long on here for too much longer.”
Y/n seems to grow some courage leaning forward to kiss him before unsurprisingly nearly rocketing off of him and going back to sitting out of frame. Lando smiles at her before he begins to finish the game with Max and then log off.
-
After confirming that they’re not trying to be private and don’t care about the world being aware of the relationship. Media and fans alike felt that they had a green light to ask all about the couple, or more specifically be a bit more invasive with Lando about the relationship.
“Lando, is your girlfriend here for the race?” A young woman asks when they’re on the stage as part of the Thursday media.
“She is, but good luck finding her. She can disguise and hide herself incredibly well, sometimes I even have to call her so I can find where she’s put herself.” Lando admits while the crowd laugh and Oscar nods to confirm it.
“I can confirm, I’ve watched Lando panic when he hasn’t been able to find her and usually she’s actually really close by.” Oscar states earning a grin from Lando.
“So she’s really that shy?” The interviewer asks making Lando nod. “How on earth did you end up together?”
“She was a friend of a friend, we went to a birthday party and I spotted her. It sounds really bad when I say I had to chase her and practically corner her, but I promise it was just her shyness. She loves me now, but she was just scared because I have quite a loud personality and for her that was quite intimidating. Plus I think she secretly had a crush on me that she didn’t want to pursue because of the attention she’d get.”
“It can be quite intense, tell you what we’ll redirect attention onto racing.”
After the interview, Lando spends a while signing things for fans and doing some more media before he asks the McLaren comms assistant if they know where y/n has disappeared to. As part of keeping Lando focused and not panicked over her, the McLaren team always keep an eye on her whereabouts sot hey can always let Lando know.
“She’s in the unit getting something to eat. We can go there now if you want, there’s nothing on really for a couple hours.”
Lando practically ditches his teammate in favour of finding his girlfriend and when he finds her she’s sitting on her own, to no one’s surprise, looking at her phone while she eats a chicken pasta dish.
“Hello, gorgeous.” Lando smiles sitting down next to her.
“Hi. How’d it go?” Y/n asks quietly while he wastes no time pulling her over onto his lap, loving the sight of her fact flushing red at the action.
“Good, everyone is asking about you now they know that we’re not keeping everything completely private.” Lando states then moving her hair to lean forward and kiss her cheek. “How’s the food?”
“Really nice, I know you think it’s like rabbit food, but I think they make the best salads.” Y/n smiles as his arm wraps around her a little more tightly. “The chicken is so good.”
Lando accepts a piece of chicken before agreeing that actually it tastes really good.
They stay like that for a bit, just wasting a bit of time with each other. Which is no-so-secretly Lando’s favourite way to spend time even when he’s got a race to prepare for. But eventually he’s called for to do some simulator runs to practice.
#f1#fanfic#formula 1#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando x reader#lando#norris#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#lando norris#lando norris x y/n#mclaren
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In the comfort of your arms
summary: Lando plays video games a lot in between races. Y/n doesn’t mind, she even enjoys watching him play.
I’ve read a few fanfictions with the same theme a while back. I hope it’s not too similar 👀
It’s 1:40am here, I wrote this in 30min (it shows). Good night!!!🌙
Still taking Lando requests. Once I have enough I’ll be able to write them and publish them regularly (that’s how I used to do with the requests on Pedro). Thank youuuu 🫶🏼
——————————————————————————
Lando loves playing video games a lot. When he’s bored, when he’s alone, when he can’t sleep, when he misses you, he plays. Time flies by without noticing as he enjoys himself with his friends. Even when he is away for F1, he plays. His favorite game to play with Max, Bankai and Matt at the moment is Escape from Tarkov. He could (actually is) spend hours on it.
As he has two weeks before the next race, Lando just came back home, to Monaco, to rest a bit before going back to the MTC and later on race again. The first thing he did when he was back was to call you and ask you to stay at his place for the few days he was here. An offer you could never refuse. Texts and FaceTime aren’t enough, so you try to maximize every moment you can have with him.
So you drove to his place immediately after, making yourself at home at his place, like you usually do when he is here. When he is at Monaco you mostly stay at his place, leaving your own for days, even weeks sometimes. If you look at Lando’s place, you can see that you are here a lot. An extra toothbrush in his bathroom. A side of his dressing dedicated to you, some groceries and drinks of your liking in his fridge, it’s your second home.
But, as much as he wants to spend all of his time with you, Lando needs his daily dose of game. You wanted to finish a tv show that you had started a week ago, he wanted to play, it was the perfect opportunity. You were in the same place, but doing your own thing, just like if you were living together.
A few hours passed by and you finally finished your tv show. It was around midnight, you were getting tired but didn’t want to go to bed without him. You always do that, and now that you can have his company in bed, you didn’t want to miss it, even just for one night. From the living room, you silently made your way to where he was playing. Before entering, you carefully analyzed if he was streaming. Once you saw that he wasn’t, you fully entered the room.
Lando was fully focused on his game, trying to kill a raider that he didn’t hear you walk next to him. It’s only when he got killed and slid back a bit that he saw you and jumped a bit. He cut his mic to talk to you for a sec.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you” you said as you tried not to laugh
“It’s okay” he said, turning his chair to look at you. You were wearing one of his shirt, that was a bit oversized for you. You had a few pajamas of yours here, but nothing was as more comfy as his clothes. And he loved it. He loved since you in his clothes. His hands dropped from his chair to your thighs, making you shiver.
“Are you almost done?” You asked, looking at the screen, your arms around his neck as he pulled you closer to him.
“I don’t know, I think I’ll do one or two more runs then I think I’ll be done” his arms made it around your waist now.
“Hm”
“You can go to bed, I’ll join you” you stepped back, looking at him, pouting
“That’s not going to happen” Lando laughed a bit
“Why?”
“I spend most of my nights without you, it’s not to do it again when you’re here”
“Aw” was all Lando was able to answer. He loved this clinginess of yours. He was the same with you, which was quite normal since you were away from each other a lot.
“Can I sit with you for a bit?”
“Sure” he said. You started to walk away, but Lando grabbed your hand. “Where you going?” He asked
“Grab a chair”
“You don’t need one” he said, patting his thigh with his free hand. You couldn’t help but laugh.
“That’s not going to be comfortable for you, how are you going to play?” You joked as he pulled you back to him.
“Don’t worry about that. Come here” Next thing you know, you’re sitting on his lap, your head leaning against his, your left arm resting on his waist.
You planted a kiss on his neck before he was back into the game. You saw him smile.
“Lando are you still there mate?” You heard Max asked him through his headphones.
“Yep, sorry, I’m here” he said calmly. Sometimes he could be very loud while playing, but he could also be very calm. It happens a lot when he plays Tarkov. He talks normally, very slow and calmly. Laughing from time to time. And the noise of the game, so satisfying. It’s such a quality, and same, it’s calmly in a way.
Like a lullaby almost. At least at midnight it is. In Lando’s arms it is. You could hear most of everything through his headphones as you were close to them, and it was at the perfect volume for you. Your eyes following closely what Lando was doing, you felt sleepy. His smell was helping you drift away in the most perfect way. That’s how you fell asleep was he was still playing.
Lando didn’t notice right away that you fell asleep. He was focused in his game. But that’s when he finally stopped that he noticed you weren’t moving at all. He said goodnight to everyone and turned off the computer, before easily getting up and carrying you to his bed. You didn’t even make a sound nor wake up when he moved you. But once he was settled in bed, you made your way to his arms again, instinctively, naturally. You missed him too much.
When you woke the next morning, you were still in the same position from the night. Lando on his side, and you cuddled up in his arms. You don’t know how, but you do remember last night, how comfortable you fell asleep in his arms, and how comfortable you are right now. Home.
#fanfic#imagine#oneshot#lando norris one shot#lando imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando x reader#lando norris#ln4 x y/n#ln4 fic#ln4 imagine#ln4 fluff#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you#ln4 one shot
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𝗣𝗢𝗩: 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗿 | 𝘃𝗼𝗹 𝗜𝗩
~ black cat/golden retriever edition ~
Warnings: fluff, biting
𝟏.
“Where’s my girlfriend?” Vinnie read off one of the comments on his stream. “She’s over there. Hi babe”.
Vinnie smiled and waved at you however you returned that gesture with a middle finger while your eyes were eyed to your phone. Vinnie just laughed and continued to stream, he understood you weren’t ready to socialise with him. Some may see it as rude that you would be cold towards your boyfriend however Vinnie was able to understand that there were days that your social battery was fully charged. It took a while for him to understand when you first started dating but now he understands that sometimes it’s better to let you come to him.
“Okay I’m going to take a little break, so I’ll be back in a few minutes”. Vinnie took off his heads phones, muted his mic and turned off camera. He got up from his chair, stretching his back before making his way towards the bathroom.
“How’s it going?” You asked shifting your gaze away from your phone and onto Vinnie. Vinnie you a smile before responding with a “good”, then making his towards the bathroom.
You shot out a “hey” as he walked passed you back to his desk, he turned his attention to you as you threw up half a heart with your fingers. He smiled, came over to the bed and kissed the back of your hand. “Gross”. You said while wiping the back of hand on your jumper as Vinnie walked back to his desk.
“Hey babe”. An hour later you had finally decided to grace your boyfriend with your presence. You crawling into his lap before situating yourself on him.
“You got games on your phone?” You joked. Vinnie shook his head but reached his hand into his pocket pulling out his phone and handed it over. You smiled and unlocked, clicking on Hello Kitty Island Adventure. You moved the phone to its side ready to playing, snuggled up in Vinnie’s lap.
Vinnie glanced down at you and shook his head. “She’s a hardcore gamer guys”. You playfully hit his chest.
“Shut up, you’re ugly”. You retorted. Vinnie just laughed and placed a kiss of your forehead.
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
𝟐.
Vinnie was finally home. Vinnie has been away on work trips for a few weeks now and to be honest, you were getting very deprived of attention. Currently the two of you were lying on the couch watching amine together. Vinnie has his arm around your neck, but that wasn’t enough. You wanted him to touch you, you wanted to be as close to him as possible, you wanted to be under his skin. That how much you needed Vinnie.
You looked over at Vinnie’s arm that was currently wrapped around you and snuck your teeth into his forearm. You didn’t bite down hard, just enough to give Vinnie a little chop. Vinnie took no notice as this was a somewhat regular occurrence. You took a few seconds before averting your gaze to his hand. You grabbing his hand before again biting the palm of his hand.
“Okay, okay message received”. Vinnie laughed out with your mouth still attached to his hand.
You let go and Vinnie moved his arm from your neck before placing both hands either side of your head and hovering above you. “Hi”. He smiled.
“Hi”. You giggled smiling back at him. The two of your stared into each others eyes before Vinnie lunged at your face attacking you with kisses, kissing all over you face.
“Vinnie stop it your weirdo”. You squealed as he continued the assault on your face. “Oh my God this is disgusting”. He stopped his kiss attack but not before placing one final kiss upon your lips.
Vinnie rolled your shirt up, placed his face in between the valley of your boobs and then finally placing your shirt back over his face. You rolled your eyes and placed your hand under his shirt and lightly scratched his back.
You stopped your movement for a second to adjust your position before then feeling nip on your breast. “Ow, okay I get it”.
You return back to scratching your boyfriend’s back before muttering “I missed you”.
You heard a quiet “I missed you too”, followed by the faint snores of your boyfriend.
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
𝟑.
“Ooooh what are you up to?” Vinnie asked entering the kitchen.
“Making dinner”. You replied not taking your eyes off the recipe. “It’s a surprise”.
“Okay babe, yell out if you need help”. Vinnie placed a big juicy kiss on your lips before leaving the room. You wiped the remnants of the kiss on the back of your sleeve.
A couple minutes later you are struggle opening a jar and call out to Vinnie. “Babe can you come help me please”.
He walks into the room to see you holding out the jar for him. He takes jar in his big hands and struggles opening the lip of a jar. “Why do you have all that muscle if you can’t even open a jar?”
He gives you a stare before grabbing a tea towel in enclasping it around the lid, and finally opening it. You thank him before returning to cooking.
An hour and a half later, you are ready to present Vinnie with dinner. “This looks good babe, thanks for making dinner. I love you”.
“Yeah whatever loser”. You carefully placed down the plate in front of him. “ I love you too”. You genuinely express.
“Man that was good”. Vinnie expresses while stretching in his chair. “Thanks again for dinner”.
“You’re welcome”. You pick up your plate and make your way to the sink. “Now you have to clean the dishes”.
“Yes ma’am”. Vinnie stands up and makes his way towards the sink. Butterflies erupt in your stomach.
You pick up the last of the plates from the dining table before placing them in the sink. You turn and glance down at Vinnie who was currently bent over in front of you putting the dishes into the dishwasher. You smirked before winding your hand back and slapping him hard on the ass.
“HEY!”.
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
In case you made it this far, my requests are open if anybody has anything. ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

#vinnie hacker fluff#vinnie hacker x you#vinnie x y/n#vinnie hacker x reader#vinnie hacker smut#vinnie hacker imagine#vinnie smut#vinnie hacker#vinnie imagines#vinnie x reader
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ok listen so i saw this tiktok where this girl was at a concert and the singer gave her his ring to hold for a song and then didn’t take it back and i knew i had to steddie-fy it. enjoy!
Steve didn’t know what he was doing there.
Robin had dragged him along to this bar to chaperone for her date with some metalhead girl, but sometime during the night she had disappeared into the bathroom to go make out with said girl, and Steve had been left alone at the front of the crowd.
Look, he never said he was a good chaperone, alright?
And now the next band was coming out.
Corroded Coffin stepped onto the stage, and Steve felt his mouth go dry.
The guy in front, the lead singer, was the hottest fucking guy he had ever seen.
He had dark, curly hair, was dressed in skinny-as-hell jeans, and his shirt had the sleeves cut off, as well as most of the seams on the side. When he raised his arms, Steve caught a glimpse of ink under the shirt.
The guy wrapped a ringed hand around the neck of his guitar, smiling devilishly at the crowd. “Ready for the most metal concert ever?”
The crowd screamed their approval, and Steve screamed along with them, not knowing what the fuck he was doing. He knew he looked so out of place among them, his soft yellow sweater a spotlight against the sea of black clothing and silver chains.
The singer strummed an experimental note, then frowned down at his hands. “Dammit, wore the wrong ring today.” He slid a ring off his right knuckle, then peered at the crowd. “Here.”
He pointed at Steve, whose heart froze. He tilted his head. “Me?”
“Yeah.” He lobbed the ring at Steve underhanded, who caught it gently. “Hold that for the rest of the show, alright, pretty boy?”
The guy backed up and started the count for his band, but Steve didn’t even hear when they started to play. He was too busy staring at the ring, turning it over and over again in his hand. It was a cool silver, with an amber stone inlaid in it.
He slid the ring onto his pinkie.
“Holy shit, Steve!” came a familiar voice in his ear. It was Robin, hair messed up and makeup smeared. “These guys are good!”
He laughed. “I see you had fun.”
“Steve. Steeeve. She is so fucking hot, dude.” Robin said, splaying over his shoulder. “She went to- where’d you get that?”
She was looking at the ring.
“Uh,” Steve said dumbly. “He gave it to me.” He pointed up at the lead singer, whose hair was flying everywhere as he belted into the mic. His voice was amazing, like a wrecking ball crashing through Steve’s heart.
“No fucking way.” came a voice from Steve’s other side. Robin’s date, Emily or Amelie or something like that, he couldn’t quite remember, said. “Eddie Munson gave you a ring?”
“Yeah?” Steve said. He plucked the cup out of her hands and passed it to Robin, who drained it. “Why?”
“Because he never takes them off. There’s band interviews of them where his band mates are complaining because Eddie won’t share. And he just gave you one?”
A particularly loud stomp broke them out of their trances and made Robin fall off Steve’s shoulder. Eddie must have seen they weren’t paying attention, and decided to make them pay attention, by jumping and landing right by Steve’s head.
Steve jolted back up, staring directly into Eddie’s eyes.
Eddie winked.
Steve felt his face grow hot, and even though he tried to tell himself it was only the stage lights reflecting onto his face, he knew that wasn’t it.
Corroded Coffin may not have been Steve’s taste in music, but he couldn’t deny they were good. Eddie, of course, stole the show, his undeniable stage presence drawing everyone in.
Including Steve, of course.
By the time the set was over, Corroded Coffin packed up their shit and left the stage. Steve was preoccupied with getting home.
As the two of them exited the bar in a stream of other patrons, he looked down at his hand.
The ring Eddie had given him was sitting innocently on his pinkie, twinkling up at him.
“Shit.” he whispered.
“What?” Robin asked. “Steve, what is it?”
“His ring. I think I was supposed to give it back at the end of the show.”
“Aw, really?” Robin said. “And here I was thinking he proposed.”
Steve shoved her, then dragged her out of the way of the doors. “Shut up, I gotta return this before he reports it as stolen.”
“I think the only thing that’s stolen is my heart.” someone said from behind him.
Steve whipped around.
Eddie.
“That was…really, really corny.” Steve said, trying to regain his footing. His entire brain was screaming “HOT BOY” at him, so it wasn’t really working. He thought he made a valiant effort, though. Robin had slunk off to hide somewhere and watch from afar, the traitor.
Eddie shrugged. “Eh, opportunity came up, had to take it.” He held out his hand to shake. “Eddie Munson.”
Steve took it. “Steve Harrington.”
He slid the ring off his finger and made to drop it into Eddie’s hand, but Eddie held up a hand. “Listen, I’ve decided you can keep it, but only if I get your number in return.”
“Really?” Steve crossed his arms, balling the ring into his fist. The cold metal pressed against his palm. “I’ve heard from one of your fans that you don’t even share your rings with your band mates. Why do I get one?”
“Let’s just say I’m curious about why a guy dressed like he just got out of a PTA conference is in my metal audience.” Eddie said.
Steve looked down at his sweater. “Okay, listen, it wasn’t a PTA meeting.” he said. “It was a bake sale.”
Eddie laughed. “Even better, Jesus. You’ve got to tell me more.”
“I’m free for lunch around one?” Steve offered.
“Perfect.” Eddie tapped his phone and offered it to Steve to put in his contact. “Text you soon, pretty boy.”
Steve was so preoccupied with watching him walk away, he didn’t realize he still had the ring.
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Imagination
summary: he wasn’t as good as you thought
pairing: lando norris x fem! reader
warnings: cheating | shitty boyfriend | guilt tripping
genre: angst angst angst
notes: I love angst 🙃 also I’m sorry 😭
words: 2.1k
LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO
Everyone assumed Lando would be a good boyfriend, teasing yet kind, silly but romantic.
To be fair he was like that, emphasis on the was.
He was so incredibly good to you, looking at you as if you hung the stars and moon.
He’d always talk about your future together, that he would buy you all these things so you guys would live happily together.
You ate it up, you really did.
And you loved him just as much, you guys were honestly perfect together.
It was maybe the two year mark, actually no- it was the day of your two year anniversary when it had started.
Now of course you had some doubts and worries, he was constantly traveling, and he obviously had a lot of women after him.
But he made you feel secure, you knew he wouldn’t do anything, you didn’t know if any women would do anything.
“Lando? Baby? Where are you?” You ask out, entering your guys' shared apartment.
You could hear shouting come from his streaming room.
It hit you, he really forgot about your anniversary and decided to stream instead.
You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and setting down your purse on the kitchen counter.
You walk into his streaming room, a smile on your face as the chat floods in with messages about you.
“Hey baby! You look stunning..” Lando says, a smile on his face as he spins around to face you in his chair. But he realized that something was off. “Hold on chat..” He says, muting his mic.
"Really? Really Lando? You forgot our anniversary?" You ask with clear frustration in your voice.
You watch him look away with a sheepish look on his face, it honestly pissed you off way more than it normally would have.
At the two year mark you expect him to know better, you expected him to know what you expected.
He was clearly embarrassed, or at least trying to avoid making eye contact with you.
“I’m sorry Y/n..I’ll make it up to you later..” He says, reaching for your hand and giving it a squeeze before he turns away from you and goes back to his game.
Least to say you weren’t happy with him after that. He did make it up afterwards- it still didn’t feel sincere or that he cared.
But you did end up brushing it aside, you imagined it would be a one time thing in the moment.
You were wrong.
This time it was during summer break, you guys had spent some time with friends, relaxing and enjoying the break.
You were at some random club you two had been dragged to, you really didn’t care that much.
You mostly stuck by your friends, and when you did go to the bar to get a club soda, a guy approached you.
“Hey! I know this is random- but I really like your outfit!” This guy says with a smile, you picked up on some clues- he definitely wasn’t straight.
“Oh my gosh! Thank you!” You say with a smile, “I love yours too! It’s super cute!”
So you guys got caught up in a conversation, honestly you enjoyed it- you liked making friends and talking to people! Truly no harm done.
But Lando didn’t know that.
You felt an arm wrap around your waist and pull you away from the guy, dragging you through the crowd of people.
“Hey! What the fuck Lando!” You say, swatting his hand away as he yanks you into a booth with him.
“What? He was being too friendly..” Lando grumbles out, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Get over yourself Lando, he wasn’t straight and we were talking about clothes!” You say, frustrated with how Lando was acting.
“Yeah sure..” He mumbles out, rolling his eyes.
Some time had passed, you forgot about that little situation and you were now squeezed into a booth with your girl friends, chatting and giggling about something random when Lando had slid in next to you.
He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead.
“What are you ladies talking about?” Lando asks with a grin, glancing around at the group of girls.
“Just how hot you F1 drivers are..” Some girl named Jill says she had openly thristed over Lando before. You hated her.
Lando's ears pricked up at the idea that someone else was interested in him, he was used to these things by now but he enjoyed the attention.
"We are quite a good-looking bunch I guess," He replies with a sly smirk, hoping you'd react to that, wanting to get back at you.
You roll your eyes, letting out a huff. “I’m going to the restroom..”
Lando moved to let you out, lightly tapping your ass as you walk away. “Make it quick baby..”
Now that pissed you off.
A few minutes had passed and you made your way back to the booth, but you had stopped in your steps. You were witnessing something you’d never imagine you would.
Landos hand on Jill’s thigh as he leans into her with a grin, whatever they were “talking” about was clearly interesting.
“What the fuck Lando?! Are you mental?!” You shout out as soon as he shuts the door to your apartment.
"Jeez, why are you freaking out? We weren't even doing anything!" Lando replies as he shuts the door behind him and heads to the living room.
"We were just flirting, it was nothing serious."
He doesn't even have an appropriate tone of voice, he sounds unbothered and like everything is fine and he didn't just have his hands all over another woman.
"We weren't even kissing or anything!" He adds, as if that was meant to alleviate your anger.
“So?? That doesn’t make it acceptable to hit on another girl in front of me! Who also, may I add, has shown interest in you!” You say, following him into the living room.
“God! What is wrong with you Lando? You’ve completely fucking changed! You forget shit, you apologize and- and love me up, then pull shit like that?” You add on, voice breaking as you try and rack your brain to figure out just why he would be doing this.
"Look, just don't make such a big deal out of this, I said it wasn't serious." Lando responds rather coldly, as if he was annoyed by the fact that you were upset.
"You're acting hysterical really. And I didn't even forget our anniversary, I just didn't know it was that day, so don't make a fuss. It's not like we were even going to do something special."
You give him a look, one that was asking him are you serious. “Stop trying to fucking play mind games Lando..” You say, your gaze cold as you look at him.
“You’re sleeping on the fucking couch tonight..” You add on, opting to turn around and walk off towards your bedroom, not wanting to deal with whatever Lando was doing now.
Lando is stunned by your sudden reaction, he knew he had annoyed you but had assumed you'd just get over it like normal.
"Woah, hold your horses baby, I'm not sleeping on the couch tonight." He responds angrily, following you into the bedroom.
"You're blowing this way out of proportion, what is even your problem? It’s not even that big of a deal, it barely counts as flirting."
You scoff at his words, “You’re actually mental Norris..” You reply, walking into your bedroom and changing into your sleepwear.
"Come on, you're being silly, don't act like that." Lando replies, stepping into the room uninvited after you. He wants your attention and to talk.
"We're just having a disagreement, we can work through it baby please come on." Lando pleads, clearly desperate for you to give in at this point.
You couldn’t imagine why he was doing this right now, one moment he was unphased and pissed- and now he’s begging for your attention and for all of it to be okay.
“Okay! Fine! Whatever, just fucking change and go to sleep, I don’t care!” You say frustrated, too tired and fed up to deal with his mood swings, so you just let him win.
Lando smiles, clearly pleased with this result.
"Thank you baby, at least you understand." He replies as he heads towards the other side of the room and starts changing.
You're still fed up, but you're exhausted and don't want to do this anymore.
Things didn’t really change after that. Obviously this isn’t how you imagined things going with you and Lando.
In his imagination everything was fine, he was a perfect darling angel. While in your imagination, it was all bad.
Now the third and final time was on your birthday, because everything bad has to happen on a birthday.
You had dressed up all nice again, going to a restaurant that Lando made the reservations for.
You waited for him for about an hour before you gave up.
Walking back into your apartment you feel your heart drop, eyes widening and tears forming.
Lando was making out with some random girl.
Never have you imagined that happening. In your imagination he was a perfect boyfriend, clearly that was all wrong.
“I’m sorry Y/n! She came onto me!” Lando says after you had calmly asked the girl to leave.
“Really? So she just walked into our fucking apartment and kissed you?” You shout, pushing your finger into his chest.
"Okay you're being so overdramatic right now, I didn't even want to kiss her Y/n, it just happened." Lando replies in a frustrated and annoyed tone.
He knows he's in the wrong, but he's annoyed at you for getting this irritated over "nothing".
"Like really?" Lando replies with an eye roll.
"Can't even have friends anymore I guess." Lando adds sarcastically, making it a point that he's angry too.
“Oh yeah, she seemed like a lovely friend, Lando!” You say, sarcasm lacing your words. “I’m assuming you two are close since she had her lips and hands all over you?”
That sets Lando off, you can tell by the tense look in his eyes that you were about to be shouted at.
"You know what Y/n? I've had it. You're such an insecure little girl. You get angry at the slightest thing, don't know how I put up with it." Lando says rather coldly, turning away from you as not to have to look at you.
"So many other girls wouldn't care, why don't you just appreciate the fact I'm still even with you." He adds after a second.
“Oh really? I’m sure not any of those girls would want to put up with you!” You say, shoving him, but he didn’t budge.
“I’ve been nothing but fucking amazing to you Lando! If anything, you’re lucky to have me!”
"Oh yeah baby, I'm real lucky to have such a crazy woman like you." Lando snarls, he's had enough.
"So many girls out there, pretty, sweet, nice, and they'd give anything to be with me, and they wouldn't get mad at every little thing."
He looks at you, glaring for a moment before walking towards you.
"But no, you're my girlfriend, lucky me. Can't wait to break up with you and upgrade."
There was a tense pause in the atmosphere as you both stare at each other.
“Why the hell are you with me?” You say, voice breaking. He finally pushed you over the edge. It all hit you.
Two years together, two actual happy years together, pushed to the side for what? Where did it all go wrong?
Lando stops dead in his tracks the moment he hears your voice break, he stops in place as all the anger and tension leaves him.
He didn't even realize he was so angry anymore, now a wave of sadness hits him as he sees the woman he loved crying heartbroken, he knew he had pushed too far.
He didn’t even know what he was doing anymore.
"Oh..god Y/n I'm sorry..I'm sorry.." The only thing he could say as he walked towards you and pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly.
“No..! No, let go of me..” You sob out, tears falling down your face as you try to fight him, pushing him away. It didn’t work.
“I can’t- I can’t do this..” You mumble out, giving up and resting your head against his chest, sobbing.
"Come on baby, please I'm sorry.." Lando says softly, running his fingers through your hair in an attempt to comfort you.
" I just...I was mad...I just...I didn't mean those things, I'm not even sure why I said all of that-"
Lando doesn't know what to say, he regrets this so much, the fight and everything that he said.
In his imagination he never hurt you- and he never lost the girl he loves.
︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚
radio 🪩: uhmm happy ending what’s that? If it makes you guys feel better I was crying while making this 😔 send in any requests!! 💙
permanent taglist: @cixrosie @amajixi @i-wish-this-was-me @nelly187 @hannahwsworld @sltwins @itsprashimusic
#formula one#formula 1#f1#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#f1 imagine#gently weeps fics#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris#ln4 x y/n#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you#mclaren x reader#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one blurbs#gently weeps blurbs#formula 1 blurb#formula one imagine#formula one fic#formula one fanfiction#f1 wags#f1 x female reader
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Gamer bf!Bakugou
I saw a post of Gamer Bakugou and I'm literally like, screeching, barking, and rolling around on the floor, so I'm doing headcannons 🫶 (there's nsfw but there's a warning before it starts)
Gamer bf!Bakugou who brings up topics he knows you like while he's streaming so that you'll ramble and keep the viewers entertained for him.
Gamer bf!Bakugou who falls asleep at his pc after long days and has to be woken up to come to bed, which normally takes way more effort then it needs to because he's stubborn
Gamer bf!Bakugou who first introduced you to his viewers because he was yelling really loud on stream while you were trying to nap so you beat on the bedroom door and told him to shut up, and what's the point of keeping you hidden after that.
Gamer bf!Bakugou who asks his viewers how to make it up to you when he makes you mad, he did it as a joke the first time but their ideas actually worked so he kept doing it.
Gamer bf!Bakugou who gets carried away playing his game and will end up playing too late and comes to the living room to find you curled up on the couch passed out snuggling the couch pillows. He makes sure to snap a picture of you before carrying you back to the room.
Gamer bf!Bakugou who brings you to all of his meet ups and events with him
nsfw starts
Gamer bf!Bakugou who sets you on his lap while he plays, sometimes it's for cock warming sometimes he just wants you there to feel you pressed again the bludge in his shorts
Gamer bf!Bakugou who makes you moan into his mic for all his friends to hear with no shame
Gamer bf!Bakugou who makes you try to play his game for him while he slips his fingers in and out of your cunt
Gamer bf!Bakugou who makes it a game to see how long you can stay quiet with his dick in you while he's streaming
Gamer bf!Bakugou who spanks your cute little ass if you squirm too much while sitting on his lap while he's streaming
Gamer bf!Bakugou who shuts the stream off with no warning if you tease him too much from off camera (be prepared for a long night)
#bakugou katsuki#bakugou#katsuki bakugou#bakugou x reader#mha#mha x reader#katsuki x reader#bnha#my hero academia
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gamer boyfriend with kurt
kurt x female reader
cw: 18+ minors dni, virginity loss, oral (m receiving), no use of y/n, awkward dirty talk, p in v (unprotected)
“Ya know, if you actually stream the gameplay and not just your face, people might watch,” you tell him as you sit back on the bed, plugging in your phone.
Kurt looks down at his lap and then back up at you, looks like he’s connecting the dots and you’re right. Like he’s never thought of that before. He pouts, “Yeah well maybe when the money from Spree gets to my bank, I’ll look into it.”
You huff, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can watch him. You have no idea what game he’s playing, video games aren’t really your thing. But it’s a bunch of dudes running around with guns. You’d have a better chance guessing if the games were listed on a board and you threw a dart at it. Who you think is Kurt’s character isn’t very good, though. The dudes running around in circles and not shooting. Gets shot several times in the few minutes you’re watching.
“Are you winning?” you ask, bored.
“No,” he mumbles.
You sigh and pick up your phone, scrolling through Twitter absentmindedly when some porn pops up and out of curiosity, you don’t keep scrolling. An idea pops into your head and you reach your foot out to poke Kurt’s thigh. “I know how to get some attention online,” you purr.
“How?!” he asks excitedly, glancing briefly at you and then his eyebrows furrow. “I’m talking to my girlfriend, not you guys!” he screeches into the mic. Then his eyes roll, “Yes, she’s real.”
You giggle, stroking your foot up his thigh and back down. His cheeks flush as he continues in the mic, “We haven’t had a chance yet.” He sounds embarrassed and you can assume they’re asking if he’s slept with you, in not so nice words. And you two haven’t. Not for a lack of trying on your end. Hell, you would’ve blown him in his Spree the first time you met. Granted, you were drunk but you thought Kurt was cute and really, you would’ve invited him in if he wasn’t so awkward. So you left him your number on a napkin but he never called. And for about two weeks you wracked your brain trying to remember his instagram handle that he repeatedly rattled off to you and your drunken friends. They thought he was cringey but something about Kurt intrigued you. He was sweet. And really goddamn good looking under that mop of greasy hair and clothes his mom picked out for him.
She was really the reason you guys hadn’t done much more than rushed handjobs in his Prius. Kurt’s mom was… protective. Babied the hell out of Kurt. Treats him like a teenager and not a 23 year old man. The door has to stay open when you’re over. Like that would stop two adults from fooling around.
“We’re busy, I don’t know,” Kurt’s mumbling interrupts your thoughts. “No! She wants to. She definitely wants to.”
You get up from his bed and get yourself between his thighs, purring into the mic, “Oh, I really want to.”
Kurt’s face lights up, cheeks flushing as they swell with a bright smile. You giggle, and close his laptop, ending his stream. Something like this will get him banned, and you’re pretty sure he’d cry over it. He starts to protest, “Wait! What are you—“ it dies in his throat as you palm at his crotch over his pants.
His eyes roll back the harder you rub and yours glance up towards the door, making sure his mom isn’t being nosy. But she works a lot so when she gets home, she tends to pass out watching TV. You’re probably in the clear as long as Kurt keeps quiet. Your fingers work to unbutton his jeans, pulling down the zipper before grabbing his waistband and tugging his pants down. You can see the swell of his dick chubbing up in his briefs and you rub your nose against him, looking up to see his pretty, full lips falling open. He’s gripping the controller close to his chest and his eyes are on you. Sweetest brown eyes you’ve ever seen.
Mouthing at his boner, you hook your fingers into his briefs and start pulling them down his thighs. Kurt’s impressive length flops out and rises with arousal, filling out quickly. Kurt hasn’t admitted he’s a virgin, but you’ve come to the conclusion he is. Which is a first for you and it’s exciting. The thought that you’ll be his first is intoxicating and has you soaking through your panties. You wrap your fingers around his cock and stroke him slow and tight, mouth watering at the sight of it. His cocks huge. Pretty. Thick and long with a pink head and it gets wet. Never seen a man leak so much. You lick his slit, giddy when he whines and grips the Xbox controller tighter.
“Maybe I am,” he mumbles into the microphone and smirks and you laugh softly, squeezing his dick tighter. More precum bubbles out of his slit and you’re quick to lick it up.
“Tell them, Kurt,” you bite your lip, “Tell them what I’m doing.”
He looks shy, eyebrows raising as his cheeks ruddy even more, “She’s literally touching my dick right now.”
He whispers it, barely audible and you wrap your lips around his tip, sucking softly as you look up at him. Wide eyed. Kurt whines again and then says, “I’m not lying!”
“Shh,” you hush him when you pull off his dick, “We have to be quiet.”
“Sorry,” his eyes are so so sweet and apologetic. You need him. Can’t handle it anymore. You stand, pushing down your leggings and underwear before climbing into his lap. He grunts, looking at you all wide eyed and confused but it just spurs you on more. You’re almost feral for it. For him. For Kurt.
“Shh,” you repeat, “Need you, now.”
You grip his cock, lining it up with your entrance and sinking down on him. You whine from it and Kurt moans, loud and shaky. Slapping your palm over his mouth, you look at him with wide eyes before looking over to the doorway.
“Kurt… keep it down, baby. Okay?” you whisper, gazing into those beautiful brown eyes. He nods, and you grab the controller, dropping it to the floor and guiding his hands to hold your waist. He grips you tightly, looking up at you with stars in his eyes. You smile, stroking his cheek with your thumb before lifting up and slowly lowering back down on him. Kurt looks amazed, eyes and mouth open in absolute awe. You build a slow and gently rhythm, wanting this to last at least five minutes.
You connect your lips to his, pushing the headphones off his head and they fall around his neck. Riding him steadily, you deepen the kiss as you slide your tongue along his lower lip. But Kurt’s Kurt so he doesn’t get it and you have to press your thumb to his chin and pull his mouth open. When you lick inside his mouth, he moans and digs his fingers into the small of your back. Thank God his cocks so long, it prods at your g-spot perfectly, hooked just right. You’re sure you can cum if you time it properly. So you kiss him filthier before picking up the pace, sucking on his tongue and licking against the roof of his mouth. Kurt’s completely falling apart, whimpering and messy. You bounce in his lap, adjusting the angle to ensure he’s slamming against your spongy bit just so.
His gaming chair squeaks under the weight, rhythmically mirroring your thrusts. You gasp, pulling back from the kiss and whispering in his ear, “Talk to me, baby. Make me me cum.”
“Oh!” he whines, “okay, uh… I’m fucking you. With my dick.”
It’s almost sweet and dorky enough to work, it makes you smile and you nod as you whisper back, “Yeah, baby. You are, your cock is so big. Filling me so deep, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” he whimpers, “Filling your pussy up.”
“How’s my pussy feel, baby?” You coax him along, knitting your fingers in his hair, slowing your movements.
“Good. Really good,” he struggles to get stay quiet, voice wrecked and shaky, “It’s wet and so good.”
“Yeah?” you hum, kissing along his jaw, “You wanna cum in my pussy, baby?”
“I—fuck,” he grits out, wrapping his arms around your waist while he holds you still, spurts of hot cum shooting from him inside you.
Well, you tried. You nuzzle against him and repeatedly kiss his jaw as he rides out his bliss. “That’s it, Kurt. Fill me up.”
He lets out a pathetic sound, face all contorted as he thrusts his hips up at you. Then his arms fall to his sides while he lets out labored breaths. You keep kissing his face and stroking his hair.
“Let’s go to mine. And we can do that some more,” you say and Kurt laughs, full of excitement and disbelief.
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through love and loss
~for riv, happy birthday angel <3 thank you for letting me tell this story~
pairing: hotch/reader
rating: t
word count: 9.5k
genre: angst, hurt/comfort with a happy ending
summary: after witnessing your long-term friend and colleague profess his love for you moments before dying in the field, you struggle to cope with the grief and trauma of his loss. through his own experience with traumatic loss, day by day, Hotch aids in your healing and the feelings you begin to catch for him as time goes on scare you just as badly. Will you be able to move on and start again? Or will your grief be too much for you to bear?
“You’ve been one hell of a partner,” he says. His fingers gently clasp over yours and your panicked eyes glance up from the gaping wound in his abdomen to lock onto his. They’re surprisingly clear, the lights of the street lamps reflecting back at you in them. His blood paints your now intertwined fingers. Your gaze flickers between them and his eyes, the soft smile on his lips.
“Don’t say that,” you bite, your voice thick with tears. “Garcia!” you cry knowing she can hear you through your earpiece.
“Honey, they’re coming as fast as they can! Hotch is leading the charge, EMS is with them.” Her voice wavers as it crackles through the mic. “Just hold on.” You don’t know if she’s saying it to you or to him. His earpiece hadn’t fallen out when he caught the bullet and hit the ground.
“They won’t make it in time.” He says, choking out a pathetically weak laugh. “I always knew it could end like this. Can you make sure they use a good photo of me at the funeral? Maybe that shirtless selfie I took in Miami?”
“God, can’t you just shut the fuck up for once?” you snap as you apply more pressure to his abdomen. “You always have some kind of joke, some one liner.”
His smile cracks as you press down, a small “oomph” passing his lips. “You,” he takes a shuddering breath. “You love my jokes.”
“Yeah,” you bite as you blow a strand of sweat drenched hair out of your face, “and you can keep annoying me with them after you get to a hospital.”
“Humor me, will ya?”
Hot tears brim along your lash line as you paint on a smile. “Okay,” you answer tightly.
“My ma,” he starts. He coughs and a trickle of blood spills from the corner of his lips. “Tell her I got him, ok? She’ll need to hear that. And, and tell her I went laughing. That’ll help.”
You can’t help the sob that erupts from your throat, but you try your best to stifle it. His hand tightens around yours and you know it’s taking all of his strength to do that.
“Can you do that?”
You nod as tears stream down your cheeks, etching soft lines into your skin.
“And,” he coughs again as he struggles to breathe. “I can’t—” he rasps. “I can’t go without telling you.” His fingers shake as he withdraws them from your hand and reaches up to touch your cheek. Instinctively, your hand reaches up to support it, cradling the warmth of his palm against your face. He smiles as he winces. “I love you. Since the first day I saw you, I’ve loved you. I shouldn’t—” His features twist as a shudder racks his body and a sob breaks free from his lips. “I shouldn’t have put this job above that, what the Bureau would’ve thought. It’s all too short, ya know?” A bitter laugh tumbles free as he takes a deep breath.
You can hear the sirens now. They’re close, but not close enough. They won’t make it.
“Promise me,” he says, his voice wavering. His gaze locks on yours though you can hardly see for the tears blurring your vision. “The next time you feel love, you really, truly start to feel that hint of desire, those, those butterflies in your stomach, goddammit chase them, Catch that feeling, bottle it up, and don’t let it go for nothing. Promise me.”
You shake your head as you hold desperately onto his hand against your cheek. You feel his thumb weakly stroke the skin there.
Cars screech to a halt. Doors slam.
“I promise.”
His hand goes limp in yours.
The scream that tears from your body is primal and unearthly. This isn’t happening. It cannot happen. You scramble to check his pulse, to hope beyond hope you’ll feel the faintest of beatings; something, anything to signify that he’s still there. There’s nothing. Naturally, you move to begin CPR. Or at least you try to before two big arms thread through yours from behind, hooking you against the plane of someone’s body as they pull you away. You thrash and scream against their hold, fighting to get back to him.
“Let the medics do their job,” a voice says in your ear. Morgan. His grip tightens around you, not in a way that’s painful, but grounding. “Let them try.”
There’s a ringing in your ears, growing louder as you watch the two medics crowd around him. One cuts away the fabric of his shirt while another begins CPR. You watch on in silent, stunned horror.
“What happened?” another voice you recognize says sternly, though his voice sounds far away, like you’re underwater and he’s up above the surfaces.
The medics exchange a grim look after a couple of minutes. The one performing CPR’s rhythm slows until she’s doing nothing at all. She shakes her head.
Your knees buckle and you’re falling. Morgan responds immediately, trying to balance your weight against his own as you go to the ground. Though you're prepared to hit the asphalt, it never rises to meet you. Instead, you fall against the scratchy fabric of a Kevlar vest. Arms cradle you into the plane of a wide chest, your body spasming against their frame as uncontrollable sobs wrack your body. Harsh, guttural screams tear from you, your breathing uneven and irregular as you struggle for air between sobs. Black spots dot your vision.
“You have to breathe,” a faraway voice says. His tone is even, modulated. “Listen to me.” He says your name. Your name. Your name. You latch onto that. You try to, but oh my God. He’s dead. You watched him die. You felt his life leave his body. He loves you…loved you.
“I think she’s going into shock. Medic!”
Everything feels detached, like your limbs are not your own. A light shines in your eyes, but you don’t flinch away. You see the stars. You’re on your back? Your fingers buzz and shake involuntarily, numbness creeping in as you fight to inhale a full breath. A hand clasps yours. It's warm. Something slips over your nose and mouth, a mask? Breathing feels easier, but not by much.
“She suffered a blow to the head—”
Had you? Yes, wait. The fight before. The scramble for the gun. The unsub had wrestled it out of your hand and struck you over the head with the butt of the weapon and then…then two shots rang out.
White stars explode behind your eyes, blinding you. There’s a ringing in your ears.
“He loved me,” you whisper as your vision blurs.
Someone’s calling your name.
“He told me he loved me.”
And then it’s dark, and there’s nothing. And you don’t have to feel anymore.
•
“I can walk you inside.”
“I’m fine, Hotch. Just—” You close your eyes and inhale slowly. You’re not fine. You don’t know if you’d ever be fine. You smooth down the black fabric of your dress, the silk wrinkled from how tightly you’d held onto it during the service. Your knuckles ache from clenching them so hard and your palms sting, littered with half moon cuts from
digging your nails into them; any external stimulation to distract your mind from what was actually happening. Anything to keep from breaking down in front of everyone.
“Just?” he hedges.
You blink out of your stupor and stop staring at the dash. “Thank you for the ride,” you say curtly. Without meeting his gaze, you hastily exit the SUV and step into the rain. You clutch your arms against your chest, holding your double breasted trench closed over your body as you tuck your head and slip through the double doors into your apartment complex, hardly registering the motions of entering your code into the keypad.
God knows how many times you’ve walked this path to your apartment, but today it seems longer. You feel the pressure of each step in these uncomfortably tall, but not too tall, heels. Your purse bounces against your leg as you walk, each step heavier than the last. The ride to the top floor takes longer than ever and when you arrive in front of your door you almost can’t recall which key on your ring will unlock it.
The door to your apartment yawns open to greet you, yet you kick it shut, clamping its lips together to envelop you in darkness once again. Everything is the same, yet it’s all different. You stand there on the doormat staring down the short corridor you cross through day in and day out. Did he know he’d leave his apartment for the last time that day?
The hall leads to the open concept shared living room and kitchen areas. Despite all of the shades being drawn, the wide rectangular sliding glass door ahead emits shrouded gray light from behind the curtains. Without clear thought, you move toward it, dropping your keys and purse on the ground at the door. Mindlessly, your fingers move to the buttons of your coat. Shrugging out of the bulky layer, it falls to the floor in a ripple of fabric as you push the curtain open and unlock the door. The dull pitter patter of raindrops crescendos as you slide open the door, the thick glass no longer dampening the sound of the downpour. You breathe in the crisp November afternoon as a wall of cold air slams into you, eliciting goosebumps across your exposed flesh. You don’t think as you step out into the rain, the wind blowing sideways.
Standing still, you let the rain pelt you and the wind throw your hair. It doesn’t take long for it to soak through your dress, which now clings to your figure. Your hair sticks to your face and neck, a tangled mess of mother nature’s finest. The cold seeps in just as fast and before long your lips are quivering and your teeth are chattering. You feel it bruise down to your bones, yet you don’t move. You feel the icy sting because anything is better than feeling his loss. Anything is better than feeling the raw agony of grief as it digs its fingers into your chest and holds your beating heart in its hand and mocks your pain, never letting you forget a second of that night.
There’s your name on the wind, wait, no. It’s behind you. Your instincts have slowed, like deadened nerves, they don’t react the same.
“What are you doing out here?”
You blink and Hotch is standing just outside of your back door, his hand shielding his eyes from the rain. Your lip quivers in response as he steps forward and pulls you inside. He immediately shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders before guiding you to the couch.
“God, you’re freezing,” he says as he drops your hand in your lap. “I’ll get some towels.”
You stare at your hands in your lap as he stands, his footsteps echoing down the hall. He returns with two. The first, he passes to you and you just hold it. The second he uses to blot your face before draping it over your shoulders and pulling your hair off your neck and face, smoothing it over your ears and shoulders so it falls over the towel.
When he sits, his eyes meet yours. They’re a deep brown, like coffee, coffee without milk. They’re warm like coffee, too. Just looking into them begins to just barely chisel at the ice you’ve let burrow deep into your bones.
His brow pinches. “God, what the hell were you thinking? You’re going to get sick standing out there in the rain and cold like that.”
Your fingers curl around the towel in your lap, your gaze fixed on the coffee table. “I needed to feel anything else,” your voice cracks as tears well along your lash line. “Because if I don’t, all I’ll feel is the hurt and it’s so deep, and I’m so scared that this is all I’ll ever feel.”
Hotch’s features soften, his lips parting. He knows the feeling all too well. “It seems like that now.” His voice is soft. “When I lost Haley, even though we’d been divorced for some time, it felt like my world had crumbled out from under me and I wondered if I’d ever be able to rebuild it.”
A strangled sob escapes your lips and you hug the towel to your chest. “How? you ask, voice pleading. “How do you do that? I want to do that. I need to start, because I can’t…I can’t live with this pain, Hotch.”
“It’s not immediate,” he answers. “It’ll take a long time for the pain to subside to where it’s only a dull ache and then one day, you’ll wake up and it won’t hurt anymore. You have to give yourself grace and let yourself feel the agony of his loss. Stop trying to push it down. You don’t have to save face for anyone.”
Your voice is small when you speak. “I’m scared.”
“I know,” Hotch responds empathetically. “Grieving is the hardest part.” His hand reaches for yours. It’s warm against your icy skin and you remember this feeling. He’d been the one to hold your hand as the paramedics loaded you into the ambulance that night. For the first time, you raise your eyes to meet his.
“I don’t think I can come back,” you say, “not now.”
Hotch nods. “I wouldn’t expect you to. Take the bereavement. I’ll pull some strings to grant an extension on it. When it runs out, we can revisit a return to work.” He squeezes your hand and inclines his head to really look at you. “I understand what you’re going through more than anyone. I know how easy it is to want to isolate and shut the world out. When you feel that darkness calling you? I want you to call me instead. I’ll help guide you out of it. Can you do that?”
You pull your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth to stop its trembling and nod. “I can do that.”
•
Your heartbeat echoes in your ears as the elevator slowly climbs to the floor where the BAU works from. Your fingers twitch along your side as you watch the numbers light up with each passing story. When the elevator dings, signaling it’s your turn to face reality, you square your shoulders and stride through the doors as they part.
A shock of blonde and pink hair greets you immediately. Arms are around you, squeezing you against a fuzzy green cardigan that smells faintly of jasmine.
A small smile tugs at your lips and you're surprised to hear laughter from your lips. “It’s nice to see you, too, Penelope.”
“I missed you!” she says, a wide smile on her pink lips.
“I’ve missed the team,” you say, peering around her. “Is everyone here?”
She shrugs, “It’s Monday morning so everyone is filtering in. You know how it goes.” She turns toward the double doors leading inside. She points over her shoulder with a pen topped with a purple pom pom. Her lips press together. “Are you ready?”
You inhale slowly and swallow.
You know this is going to be hard, but it has been a month. You were sleeping through most nights and had begun seeing the Bureau appointed therapist to cope with the trauma and loss. Hotch had kept his word too. When you had holed yourself away in your room; takeout containers barely touched, forgetting to take showers, and had laundry piled so high it threatened to bury you in an avalanche of fabric, you called him. That’s all you’d done. You couldn’t speak when you did. It had taken all of your strength just to find his contact and hit ‘dial.’
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” was all he’d said before hanging up.
Penelope had given him the spare key to your apartment that she’d still had from when she watered your plants whenever a case kept you out for longer periods of time than usual. He’d figured you’d not have the strength to pull yourself out of bed. He hadn’t even come into your room when he’d first gotten there. He announced himself when he’d entered, not that you’d have reacted if it were an intruder. Ok, that might have been bullshit. At your core, you were still an agent and those instincts would’ve kicked in. You’d stayed in your blanket cocoon as the sound of dishes clanking and water splashing echoed from the kitchen. He’d knocked on your door and entered with a trash bag, collecting takeout and emptied the rather gross and overflowing bedroom trash can by your bed that you’d filled with tissues from the sporadic sob sessions that would overtake you. Silently, he’d pulled your clothes up off the floor into the hamper and started a load of wash. Only when things were clean did he sit on the edge of your bed and let you fall into him and fall apart all over again.
“Rossi sent me with a home cooked lasagna. It should last the week and then he’ll send another next week. I stocked your fridge with Gatorade. You’ll get sick if you dehydrate and trust me, you don’t want that to happen.” It had sounded like he’d spoken from experience.
When you’d managed to stop crying, you’d sniffed and looked up at him. “Did I hear you humming the “clean up” song?”
“It helps Jack stay on task at home,” he’d said, a soft smile and blush spreading across his cheeks.
“Sweetie?”
You blink. Penelope is looking at you, the concern clear on her face.
You clear your throat and nod. “I’m ready.”
As you enter the bullpen, you don’t miss the way people pretend not to stare as you pass by; watching for cracks in your face and your body that might fracture leaving them to pick up the pieces. There’s a tension in the room as you pass his desk, a pregnant pause as they await your reaction but you’d been preparing for it. You feel the pain flow through you and take slow, measured breaths. The dread passes. The room breathes a sigh of relief.
It isn’t until later in the day that you’re passing the briefing room to deliver a file to Hotch in his office that you notice his photo on the wall honoring fallen heroes within the Bureau; his name embossed on a golden placard and eager, bright face smiling back at you.
Your ceramic coffee cup shatters as it hits the tile. Heads turn in your direction and Hotch is quick enough to react, stealing out of his office and reeling you back into it before you crash onto your knees unable to breathe.
•
Work gets easier. The routine becomes familiar again. There are good days and bad days. You don’t break down again at work after the initial shock on your first day back. Aaron checks in with you regularly as does the rest of your team. Hotch seems to pay extra attention, though, and you wonder if the team notices just how close you’d become over the last few months.
It started out simple enough; an extra “how are you?” or bringing you a cup of coffee in the morning. On your first week back, he’d only brought you decaf. “I don’t want to increase any anxiety you might be feeling,” he’d said.
You weren’t cleared to return to the field for two months, so you’d stay behind when the team left; helping remotely from the office with Penelope. You’d missed Hotch during the cases that took them far away from home. At first you told yourself, you were only missing how within reach Hotch had been when you were having a harder time making it through the day. You’d chided yourself and told yourself that it's time to cut the cord, that you had to learn to stand on your own two feet again sooner or later without him there to be your crutch. But was that all you missed?
Having him around made breathing feel easier. It made waking up in the morning seem worth it. He reminds you why you face each day and of the important work you do for the community and country at large. He reminded you why he wouldn’t want you to suffer like this months after the fact.
As you sit at your desk awaiting a phone call from Spencer to get you that update from the morgue, you lean back in your chair and close your eyes. Your ears pick up on the rustling of papers, the gentle whir of the copy machine, phones ringing, and people talking. It’s all so normal. It feels like any other day at the office, yet it feels hollow still.
Hotch had been working on it with you, though. He knew that you’d been withdrawing, despite having come back. You still weren’t taking people up on their offers to go out on weekends or getting a drink after work. It was all too exhausting. So, he started slowly with you. At first, it was really just making sure that you were meeting your basic needs. He’d schedule a time with you at the weekend to go out and get groceries; easy grab and go items because you still didn’t have much energy to cook. He’d help you unpack them and then head back home, not before giving you a hug and telling you how proud he was of you. Eventually, as you’d been able to handle more, he invited you on outings with him and Jack. You’d go watch one of his soccer games or go to the park. Seeing someone so carefree and innocent brought real joy to your heart and it suddenly didn’t seem so unnatural to smile and laugh. And during all of this Hotch had even shared his own experiences with how he’d handled his grief when Haley died. He’d done it all alone though. He’d confided this in you one night over a glass of wine and Thai takeout in your living room.
“I wish I’d had someone to help pull me out of the thick of it, the grief.” he’d said and you’d stopped chewing your food.
“You went through this all on your own?” you’d replied, stricken by the thought.
He’d nodded as he’d wiped a napkin over his lips. “Haley’s sister would keep Jack for a week at a time because I could hardly take care of myself, let alone my own son. It felt terrible, like I was failing him and failing Haley all over again. I would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, pouring over every little detail wondering what I could’ve done differently, how I could’ve changed the ending.”
“Then what?” you’d asked, because you’d been plagued by the same nightmarish loop of that night.
A soft smile had graced his lips then. “I finally accepted that there’s no way I can change the past. I can wish and hope and beg and plead for a do-over, but that just doesn’t happen. I could either live in that painful memory forever or be grateful I got to have the time with her that I did and do everything in my power to honor her life with my own. I chose to keep living.”
Your phone rings, pulling you out of the memory.
“Hey Spence, any update from the morgue?”
“Mm, not Reid.”
You sit up straighter. “Oh, Hotch. Is everything alright?”
“Yes, I’m leaving the station now to go interview the victim’s wife and wanted to check in.”
“Oh, sir. You didn’t have to do that. Things are fine here. Penelope and I are holding down the fort.”
“You know that’s not what I’m calling to check in about.”
Your brow furrows. Is that a smile you hear in his voice?
You lower your voice. “I’m fine.”
“If being back in the office is too much, too soon I can petition—”
“Really, Hotch,” you say, keeping your voice down. “It feels good to be busy again. If I’m caught up in work, my mind can’t dwell elsewhere. I’m right where I need to be.”
“Well, not right where you need to be,” Hotch comments.
There’s an immediate silence that follows, his words hanging in the liminal space between you and him over the line.
You open your mouth to speak when a beep hits your line. You pull your phone from your ear and see an incoming call alongside Spencer’s photo illuminating your screen. “That’s Spencer on the other line. I uh, I gotta go.”
•
You startle awake, heart hammering inside your chest. His name leaves your lips in a jagged, anguished cry. Cold sweat trickles down your face as you bolt upright, digging your fingers into the mattress to steady yourself.
The door to your room swings open and Hotch hurries to your bedside. You blink hard following the intrusion but quickly remember why Hotch is even here in the first place.
Jack had had a sleepover party at a friend’s house nearby, so you’d asked if he wanted to come over and have a Lord of the Rings marathon. It was playing on cable all evening and you did love those hairy footed hobbits. Hotch had smiled and said something about it having been years since he’d seen them. You’d started to doze three quarters through The Two Towers and he’d encouraged you to go to bed. You told him that he was welcome to stay and keep watching and he’d made some crack about you having a comfortable couch to fall asleep on. Your apartment was closer to Jack’s sleepover party than Hotch’s apartment, so it just made sense for him to stay. Or at least that’s what you’d told yourself.
He smooths back the hair that’s stuck to your face and the feel of his fingers on your skin helps ground you back to reality.
“Deep breaths,” he soothes. “Here.” he passes you the glass of water off of your nightstand and you mutter a thank you as you gulp it down.
When you finish, he takes the glass from you and replaces it on the nightstand. His other hand curls into yours.
“Hey,” he says, inclining his head to intercept the trajectory of your blank stare. Your eyes shift to meet his. “Do you want to talk about it?”
You press your lips together and shake your head. “It was all the same. Just that night in high definition except,” you swallow and shake your head, hoping it clears the image away like when you’re a kid and shake your Etch A Sketch when you want to create a new picture, “the unsub was laughing. From where he lay, dead on the ground, he was laughing. Blood bubbled up through his teeth as he did so and he just kept laughing.” You drop your head into your hands and rub your temples. “I swear I can still hear it. I can still see his open eyes, unseeing, while he laughed.”
Hotch rubs small circles on your back. “I know how scary it is, how unsettling it can be. It’s only a dream. The unsub is dead. He can’t hurt you or anyone else anymore.”
“How long?” you ask, exhaustion heavy in your voice.
“How long, what?”
“How long do the dreams last?”
Hotch sucks a breath in through his teeth. “I wish I had an answer for you,” he says. “There are some nights I still wake up in a cold sweat just like you, Haley’s name on my lips. There are nights I dream that I saved her, nights where I got to Foyet before he got to her. There are nights I dream of Foyet standing over me, of his knife—”
Your hand slips into his and this time it’s Aaron’s turn to lift his eyes to meet yours. “I understand.”
A small smile turns the corners of his lips. “They get easier to live with.” He pulls you into his arms. You close your eyes and let yourself mold against his frame. The smell of cedar and teakwood has become familiar to you, comforting too. You inhale deeply as he squeezes you against him.
“I should let you get back to sleep,” he says as he pulls away.
“Stay?” you blurt awkwardly, voice smaller than usual.
Aaron’s brow arcs in response. “I’ll be right outside.”
“With me,” you say, gesturing toward the bed. “Just,” you breathe out slowly. You feel vulnerable. Your voice cracks despite how hard you try to keep it steady. “Can you just hold me? For a little while? I’m afraid to close my eyes just to see that smile again.”
“I—” he starts and stops. You feel your lip begin to quiver and you wish you could stuff your words back inside your mouth. He is still your boss. What the hell kind of request was that for you to make? Before you can tell him to forget it, he speaks again.
“Of course I can.”
You shift awkwardly, heart hammering now for an altogether different reason, as you make room for him to slide in next to you.
He eases onto the bed, stretching his legs out in front of him atop the covers and crosses one over the other.
He stretches his arm nearest you, “Come here,” he says softly and almost hesitantly, you lay your head against his chest. His heart beats evenly, if not a little quicker than what you imagine his resting heart rate ought to be. Was he nervous too? Was this crossing a line? Before your mind can run away with anxious thoughts, he wraps his other arm across your body while his hand finds its way into your hair, his fingers gently combing through it in slow, soothing movements.
You feel his eyes on you and you want to tilt your face up to look into them, but something holds you back. Instead you let your lashes flutter close and mutter something about only staying until you fall asleep. If you weren’t lying right beneath his lips, you might’ve missed the whisper of laughter that tumbles from them.
“Don’t worry about me,” he says as he drops his hand to your shoulder and strokes deliberate, gentle lines up and down the skin there.
He talks then; about work, about Jack, just about anything until his voice sounds further and further away and you’re fast asleep. And for the first time since you can’t remember when, it’s dreamless.
•
The hum of the jet’s engine should lull you to sleep at this hour yet you continue to scratch notes into your legal pad, not wanting to forget any details to add to your case report. You’d had trouble concentrating when you’d departed from LAX and had spent the first few hours of the flight lost in your thoughts.
The case had gone well. Within 72 hours, you’d delivered the profile and successfully captured the unsub. Richard Pyre, aged 32, had been kidnapping young women and strangling them, leaving their bodies in public places. Local PD had done an excellent job of canvassing the streets. The team came in and connected the missing pieces they’d not been able to decipher and together, you all had caught the bad guy. It was a slam dunk case. So, it shouldn’t be taking you long to compile notes for your report.
You just couldn’t get him off of your mind. It had been a month since Hotch had stayed over at your place, since you’d wept in his arms and begged him to hold you until you fell asleep. The memory alone brings a hot, embarrassed flush to your cheeks. Why? Because Hotch had fallen asleep in bed with you. His phone alarm that he’d set to remind him to pick up Jack from his sleepover had gone off in the living room. When it continued to beep, you’d stirred awake. At first you’d been confused, not remembering having set an alarm as it was Saturday, but then you’d felt the rise and fall of a chest underneath you. Aaron Hotchner was still in your bed, arms around you. He’d pulled the throw blanket from the end of your bed up and over his legs at some point during the night and just fallen asleep too.
For a moment you’d been scared to move, afraid of what lines had been crossed despite not having engaged in any sexual activities. That was your boss in your bed, for Christ’s sake. Yes, the pair of you had been blurring the lines with friendship lately as he’d become so integral to your life. But then again, everyone in the BAU kinda sorta blurred the lines between colleagues and friends. But you’d never woken up in anyone else’s arms.
You’d tried to slip out of his arms without waking him, but between the movement and his alarm going off in the other room you’d never stood a chance. He stirred awake and rubbed his eyes.
“Good morning,” you’d said awkwardly.
He’d immediately dropped his arms from around your body and cleared his throat. “I, uh,” he breathed in deeply and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I must’ve fallen asleep, I’m sorry.” He’d quickly exited the bed and scurried into the living room, where he’d swiped his alarm off.
He’d quickly collected his belongings, muttering about needing to pick up Jack. He’d averted your gaze and apologized again before giving you a quick hug and making a rather hasty exit from your apartment.
You didn’t talk about the incident afterwards, but something had definitely shifted between the two of you.
You drop your pencil onto the table and angle the reading light more towards yourself to not disturb Reid who breathes deeply as he sleeps across from you, arms cuddling his beloved satchel to his chest. As you reach for your coffee, you exhale a heavy sigh when you notice it's empty. You don’t even remember finishing it. You check your watch: 1:22AM. You really ought to try and sleep, but instead you rise to fix another cup.
Walking on the balls of your feet to not disturb the rest of the sleeping team, you make your way toward the back of the plane where the restroom and bar are situated. The red light still blinks on the coffee machine, signaling it’s been keeping the half-full pot hot all this time. As you lift the pot and begin to pour, someone speaks.
“Another cup? Really?”
You startle at the sound of Hotch’s voice, causing you to miss your cup and spill coffee on your hand. You hiss quietly and shake your hand, flinging drops of coffee across the counter.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” Hotch whisper-shouts as he withdraws his pocket square and dries your hand. He moves, bringing your hand under the bar’s lighting to inspect for injuries. Fortunately, it’s just a few blotchy red spots that ought to go away in a couple of hours. His thumb gently strokes the skin around it and your breath catches in your throat. You watch for a few moments, feeling your heart slowly start to beat its way into your throat the longer he holds onto your hand. A part of you wants to draw nearer to him, but instead you clear your throat.
“You should sleep,” he says, finally, dropping your hand. You miss the feel of his fingers immediately.
“Hi Pot, I’m Kettle, you reply snarkily.
Aaron’s lips twitch into a smile. “Yes, well. Typically, I’m working on a lot more than you’ve got to worry about as Unit Chief. I’m usually up at this hour anyway. You, on the other hand, are usually asleep with everyone else. Are you still having nightmares?”
You swallow and turn away, ripping open a packet of Splenda and stirring it into your coffee. “No, actually. Not since—”
“Since?” he presses.
You pick up your mug and turn back around to face him. “Since you stayed the night at my place.”
You don’t miss the way his eyes widen just slightly. He swallows and fidgets with the buttons of his suit jacket. Aaron Hotchner is fidgeting, a clear sign he’s nervous and holding something back.
“It scares me too,” you whisper after a long stretched out silence, hardly discernible.
“What’s that?” Hotch says, tone shifting.
You focus on the heat of the coffee mug in your hands as you press your thumbs into the ceramic to try and fight the heat rushing to your cheeks.
“Whatever this is, these feelings. I’m not stupid, Hotch, and neither are you. We’ve clearly crossed a line and I don’t know how to uncross it.” You take a deep breath, feeling like you’re rambling. “I don’t know how to think around you anymore. Everyday I wake up and get excited because I know I’m going to see you. You bring Jack over on the weekends and it fills me with so much joy I don’t know how to cope with it. And then I feel guilty because I’ve toed this line before. I toed the line and was too afraid because of my job and protocols and it left my heart so broken I didn’t think I’d ever get to put it back together again. Then you come along with your tapes and your glues and you find a way to turn the fractured pieces of my heart into this mosaic of something capable of beating once more.” A tear slips from the corner of your eye and drips down your cheek, falling into your coffee with a soft plop. You raise your eyes to meet his, “Now you tell me what I’m supposed to do with that.”
At this point, your heart is slamming in your chest. Afraid of triggering a panic attack, you turn around and dump the coffee into the small sink carved into the small bar. You don’t need it nor want it anymore.
Hotch says your name and reaches for your arm but you pull away, turning and moving back to your seat at the opposite end of the jet. He could follow, but he won’t. Fortunately for you, Reid being asleep in the seat across from you and Derek being sprawled out across the way didn’t leave much room for Aaron to follow through on your conversation.
•
When the plane lands, you pull your go-bag down from the overhead bins alongside your gun case and cut out as soon as the doors open and the stairs descend.
Emily calls after you, but you duck your head and push ahead off the tarmac and onto the path leading back to the office. You’d finished your report on the plane. Once inside, you drop the manila envelope in the box affixed next to the door to Hotch’s office and dip back out through the main office doors. The elevator dings, alerting you that the rest of the team is about to walk through those doors. Not feeling up to facing anyway you move swiftly to the staircase and push the door open, sliding your body through as the whoosh of the elevator begins to open.
Your thoughts move too quickly as your feet slap against each step, your footsteps echoing in the empty chamber of the stairwell. When you reach the ground level, the parking garage, you fish your keys out of the front pocket of your bag and press the key fob, unlocking your car. Opening the trunk, you toss your go-bag in and place your gun case beside it before slamming it shut. After sliding into the front seat, you put your seatbelt on and back out of your space. As you shift your hands to cut the wheel to the right, someone jumps in front of your car with their hands up.
You slam the breaks and curse. You roll your window down. “Christ, Spencer! What the hell are you doing?”
He lowers his hands and moves to the driver's side window, awkwardly adjusting his satchel on his shoulder as he does so. He swallows and tilts his head to the side, brow furrowed. He takes a few deep breaths. He’d clearly been rushing to follow after you. “I was uh, wondering if I could get a ride home.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “JJ was going to give me a ride, but something with Henry—”
“Just get in,” you say, too exhausted to care.
“Thank you, thank you.” He rushes around the car and clambers into the passenger seat.
For a while neither of you speak. When you pull out of the garage, the sun hurts your eyes. You cuss under your breath as you reach for your sunglasses.
“Why’d you rush off the plane so fast?” Spencer asks as you turn onto the main road. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone disembark the jet that quickly.
You press your lips together, not really wanting to have this conversation. “Maybe I just really want to go home. I’m pretty exhausted, aren’t you?”
He nods quickly, considering. “See, I think this has more to do with the conversation you and Hotch had on the plane.”
You jerk the wheel to the side, causing Spencer to cling to the handle above his seat. The sound of your tires screeching to halt echo as a car swerves and honks.
“What the hell, Spence?” you shout, pulling your sunglasses off to look him in the eye. “Did you lie to me about needing a ride just so you could trap me in this conversation?” You point a finger at him. “That’s fucked up. I don’t like lying. We’re friends.”
He tenses, flinching under your hard stare. “And that’s exactly why I’m doing this,” he says, voice tight.
You lower your finger, posture relaxing only slightly. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve been paying more attention to dynamics across the team over the last eight months. I read a study on how shared trauma can impact working relationships; some for the better and some for worse. Fortunately, our team seems to have stayed relatively strong following—” He pauses, eyes shifting to yours and then back to his hands in his lap. “His death. Anyway, obviously you took it the hardest, what with having worked closest with him and the lines you walked between colleague and romantic partner.”
You feel your heart squeeze inside your chest, yet Spencer continues on.
“I didn’t see it at first. I thought Hotch was just checking in on you as is his duty as Unit Chief and having to make sure we’re all fit to be in the field. However, as time progressed I started to notice shifts in the way Hotch spoke to you and even his body language around you, even when you weren’t in the office.”
That strikes a chord deep within you. “Okay, and?”
He sits up straighter, lips pursing as he decides how to continue. “It started quite small. I’d catch him end a call with you while out on a case and he’d be smiling, other times his nostrils would flare and he’d wipe his hands down the fronts of his pants, likely because they were clammy, much like you’re doing right now.” He indicates toward you and you clench your hands into fists.
“So, what?”
He laughs exasperatedly. “So, what? You don’t have to be a behavior analyst to see these are all behaviors in line with burgeoning romantic feelings for someone.”
“I don’t—” your words falter as you fail to come up with an excuse.
“You’re scared,” Spencer states. “Moving on is the scariest part. There’s so many feelings attached to it: guilt, remorse, anger, fear, relief, joy. It’s normal to be afraid, but don’t let that fear hold you back from allowing yourself a chance at happiness.”
You swallow thickly as you feel the familiar pressure of tears burn the backs of your eyes. “It’s only been eight months. It feels wrong.”
“I miss him too, you know?” Spencer says after a minute. “I know I might not have been as close to him as you were. You two were in the Academy together after all.” He reaches across the center console and takes one of your hands in his. “And I know that once upon time you and him considered taking your relationship further but decided not to because you were just starting out with the Bureau, but,” he says your name and smiles. “His profession of feelings for you doesn’t mean he’d never want you to find that for yourself. He just wanted you to know that while he was a part of your life, he loved you for all of it. I don’t think he’d want to see you hurt like this. I really don’t.” His clear eyes search yours as he smiles. “For as short a time together as we had, I loved Maeve every day I knew her.”
“Spence—” he cuts you off with a wave of his hand.
“I miss her every day and it’s been two years. I’m not really a guy that goes on dates very often. I’m awkward and weird and I know this about myself. I do know though, that if I am lucky enough to find someone again that loves me, that she would want me to be happy. At least, I’d have wanted her to if our situations had been reversed and I’d been the one to die that day. I wouldn’t have wanted her to put her own happiness on hold.” He squeezes your hand. “You don’t have to put your life on hold. That doesn’t mean you’ll forget him.”
He drops your hand and points to the road. “I’ll buy you breakfast by the way, to make up for the lying.”
You unbuckle your seatbelt and lunge over the passenger seat to pull him into a hug. Spencer wheezes as your body weight collides with him, but his slender arms snake around your back to return the embrace.
“Thank you, Spence.”
•
Usually, after a case, you have a shower and immediately go to bed. Not this time though. Spencer’s words play over in your mind again and again as you pace the length of your apartment floor.
You’d picked up your phone a dozen times to call Aaron, but each time you’d dropped it back onto the counter.
Eventually, you just plop down onto the couch and drop your head in your hands. “Why is this so hard?” you mumble to yourself.
You look up and make eye contact with the picture of you and him from the office Christmas party two years ago. He’s wearing a Santa hat and you’ve got on a headband giving you a pair of reindeer antlers. He holds a Solo cup in the air (Rossi had definitely spiked the eggnog) and the smiles on both of your faces are so genuine. A pang of guilt shoots through as you pick up the frame and cradle it to your chest, as if that was anywhere close to what a hug from him would feel like.
“I wish you were here to tell me what to do,” you whisper.
Spencer’s words move through your mind again, especially what he’d said about Maeve. God, this team has dealt with more love and loss than any normal group of people ought to deal with, but then again you all weren’t exactly a normal group of people.
Spencer had a point though. Rationally, you know he wouldn’t want you to hold yourself back from the possibility of love and happiness with someone. You smirk to yourself because you can picture him sitting next to you making some crack about not ever thinking that man would be Hotch. He’d probably point out that Hotch was at least ten years your senior and make some dumb joke about being a gold digger. You’d never really thought about how much Hotch made compared to the rest of you, but with his title and tenure at the Bureau, it probably was up there.
If you are to do this, pursue whatever is going on between you and Aaron, presuming that that was also something he wanted, it won’t be easy. There’s enough red tape as is, let alone throwing relationships and romance into the mix. However, Rossi and Strauss had been together for a year prior to her untimely death. Again, this team had been through too much. She was his superior and there hadn’t been any problems that you’d been aware of, though no one had really been aware of their relationship until it was too late.
God, you wonder. Even Rossi hadn’t been afforded a chance at long term happiness with her. Is the BAU team just destined for trauma and loss? Maybe you should put a stop to this before it has the chance to go any further…but on the other hand you know Spencer would give his left arm if it meant having one more day with Meave. David would probably do the same to be with Erin. So, what were you doing? Why was it even a question?
You place the photo frame back in its place on the side table and grab your phone and keys off the counter. You know you look a bit disheveled. You’d not bothered to change or shower since getting home. You probably still smelled like plane funk too, but if you didn’t go see him now, you probably never would.
You pull open your front door and nearly trip over yourself as you force stop to keep from barreling into Hotch.
His hand is raised, like he is about to knock on the door no longer between you two. He licks his lips nervously and drops his hand after a
moment of you two staring at each other in stunned silence.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry to barge in like this.”
An uncomfortable laugh flits between the two of you as your voices overlap.
“Do you want to come in?” you say, gesturing behind you.
Hotch nods, “Please.”
You shuffle to the side and he steps into your apartment, eyes bouncing around the space. “You’ve managed to keep up with the place, that’s good.”
You cross your arms over your chest, hugging your biceps with your hands. “I find that humming the ‘clean up’ song helps.”
A pink blush sparks across his cheeks at your jab. “I’m glad that’s now a part of my legacy.”
There’s another awkward laugh followed by an even more awkward silence.
You rub your hands up and down your arms, suddenly finding yourself not as brave as you were feeling minutes early.
“Aaron, what are you doing here?” you manage to say after a few more awkward moments of silence.
Hotch presses lips together before taking a deep breath. He sweeps his thumb across his lips, suddenly looking very determined as he meets your eyes. “What I should’ve done on the plane.”
It takes seconds for him to cross the space between you. His hands clasp the sides of your face and then his lips are on yours, kissing you with such fervor you’re surprised that you don’t see stars. At first, you don’t even react, too stunned to believe this is happening. And then your arms are looping around his neck and you’re deepening the kiss, tasting the coffee on his lips as your tongue slips between them.
After a minute, he pulls away and you’re both breathless. He presses his forehead to yours and gasps. You look up at him from beneath your lashes and his eyes are wild and searching.
“We’re doing this, then?” you say between breaths.
Hotch nods and brushes his nose against yours. “I don’t think it’ll be easy.”
You twist your fingers into his hair, your lips brushing his as you speak. “Nothing about our lives is easy.”
He kisses you once, quick and brief. “So, we’re doing this?”
“We’re doing this.”
•
*Two years later
“Penelope is really excited about it,” you say as you pull your knees to your chest. The sun is shining brightly, but the crisp fall air is still chilly enough to warrant a scarf and light jacket.
“She wants it to be bright and colorful, with peonies and baby’s breath everywhere. There’s a board in her office with enough strings and photos connected you’d think it was a case.” You laugh to yourself and smooth a hand across the gingham pattern picnic blanket beneath you.
“There will be a chair for you,” you say wistfully. “It’ll be next to ones for Haley, Erin, and Maeve.”
You reach out and brush your fingers along the perfectly etched letters of his name. “I hope you’ll be there.”
The sun glints off of the circular cut engagement ring on your left hand, casting a dazzling rainbow across his tombstone.
“I think about the promise I made you,” you say as you adjust the bouquet of sunflowers and roses you’d propped against his grave and smile to yourself knowing he’d probably make fun of you for the way you diligently make sure there’s always some fresh arrangement to decorate the space. “I was scared when I first started to feel things for him, scared of what that meant. It took me a long time, and an oddly sentimental conversation with Reid to start chasing the feeling.” You laugh to yourself then. “I felt the butterflies though, and though it took a while, I did finally chase them.”
A small gasp escapes your lips then as a Monarch Butterfly lands on top of the stone. You don’t know a ton about their migration patterns, but you know it’s late enough in the Fall that they should all be gone. JJ had said something to you once long ago about how butterflies can be signs of your loved ones from beyond the grave, their way of visiting when they can.
There’s the pitter patter of small feet whooshing through the grass as Jack’s laughter echoes throughout the field as he races toward you.
“Daddy and I finished visiting Mommy,” he says as he throws his small arms around you. Haley had been buried at Quantico National Cemetery too given Aaron’s position within the Bureau. You wrap your arms around Jack’s and look up to see that Hotch is smiling down at the two of you. He asks you if you’re done with your visit, referring to him as uncle. You palm Jack’s small cheek in your hand as your lips curve into a small half smile and tears fill your eyes.
“Just about,” you say.
Aaron stretches a hand toward you and you take it, letting him pull you to your feet.
You glance down at his grave once more and watch the butterfly sit atop the stone gently stretching its wings. It lifts off after a few more beats, fluttering around before landing on your sweater, its small leggings hooking onto the threads of your sleeve.
You gasp in disbelief as you watch it climb a couple of inches before it takes off toward the clouds.
A tear slips down your cheeks as a bubble of laughter erupts from you, though there’s something of a sob there too. Aaron curves an arm around you and pulls you against the planes of his body that you’re now all too familiar with. He says nothing and kisses your temple as you watch the butterfly disappear into the sky and you can’t help but entertain the thought that maybe there is a heaven and that maybe, just maybe, he was checking in to let you know everything is okay.
You wrap an arm around Aaron’s torso and hug him tightly. Jack scoops up the blanket and bunches it into his arms.
“Well Soon-to-be Mrs. Hotchner,” Aaron says, rubbing your arm. “Are you ready?”
You take one last look at his grave and the flowers you’ve left there for him.
“I’m ready,” you answer with finality. And when you say those words, you mean them. You’re not just ready to leave for the afternoon, you’re ready for this next chapter of your life to truly and fully begin. It doesn’t mean you’re leaving this part of your life behind, the grief will always be a part of you and you know you’ll miss him and feel his loss until the day you die. And you know that Aaron feels the same about Haley. They’re integral parts of both of your stories, and through the healing you found one another. It’s that that carries you through to each new day, to each tomorrow. You’ll spend the rest of your lives honoring their legacies through the work you do and through the love you share with one another and all of your loved ones.
And that’s an encouraging thought.
#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotchner criminal minds#aaron hotchner headcanons#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner hurt/comfort#aaron hotchner x y/n#angst#hurt/comfort#hurt/comfort with a happy ending#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fic#amor de mi vida#aaron hotchner comfort#trauma#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner x reader#jack hotchner#bau reader#bau!reader#bau criminal minds#the bau team
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Close the gym HYBE !!!
#I#am#not#ok#this comeback is so good#stream pass the mic!!!!!#enhypen#enhypen imagines#Jay#park jongseong#sunghoon#park sunghoon#enhypen jay
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I had a thought: reader who claims they don’t like the physical affection that much but when her and lando are in private she’s all over him 😭 I just feel like that’s so relatable to me and lando looks like the softest most touchy bf ever I love him
Ohh this is so different to what I usually wrote but I love it!
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Max invited you to his afternoon stream because he claimed he was going to die of boredom when Lando said he didn't want to play yet.
So you put your headphones and tried your mic "Hey, you heard me?".
"Good to go" Max said on the other side.
After 30 minutes went by both of you were talking while the game finded you two a new team to play, Max started reading some questions.
"Someone asked why you never kiss Lando on camera, that's a good question, why you don't kiss him?" He teased, knowing very well how much you struggled with pda.
"I don't like getting to close to him, he has lices" you joked, trying to ditch the question.
"Not anymore, but he used to" Max laughed.
Another half an hour passed when you finished the stream.
"So I've lices, uh?" Lando asked when you threw yourself on top of him.
"Shut up, just cuddle me, please".
"I'm going to infest you" he laughed.
"Don't care, we would have them together".
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A/N: This wasn't proof-read before posted, but now im reading it and I feel that this wasn't what was requested, so dont doubt in sending ne again if thats the case!
#charles leclerc smut#f1 fanfic#lando norris smut#carlos sainz smut#max verstappen smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#pierre gasly smut#max verstappen x reader#charles leclerc x you
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to have you
pairing | streamer!hyuck x streamer!reader
synopsis | your sleeping schedules never fail to worsen, but in luck, you have him to ease those troubles — just don’t mind the stream in the background, of course.
genre | established relationship, reader uses she!her pronouns once in this, use of nicknames for reader (baby, love) and hyuck (babe)
wc | 0.9k
notes | another gamer hyuck oneshot because im actually obsessed its unhealthy atp ;0; i'd love to know your thoughts on this one!
m.list
its three in the morning, and the thuds of your soles echo through the quiet hallway as you walk down the familiar path to your boyfriend’s room — highly unaware said boyfriend is live on twitch for a 38 hour streaming challenge (courtesy of renjun doubting he couldn’t pull it off).
you had been trying to fall asleep for the last hour, knowing all too well your sleeping schedule was declining from bad to even worse. yet no matter how much you toss and turn in hopes of falling into a comfortable position, nothing seems to make your eyelids droopy enough to fall asleep.
in the end, you sat up from the comfort provided by your bed, slipped your feet into a pair of fluffy slippers, and started trudging your way over to wherever your boyfriend was — hence why you were currently approaching his room at this ungodly hour in the first place.
you twist the cold, metal doorknob open, the amount of lights currently in use blinding you for a brief moment. “hyuck, what are you doing?” you question with a groggy voice, rubbing your eyes to hopefully ease them to the brightness of the room.
“baby? what are you doing up?” haechan awkwardly moves himself closer to the camera to block you out as much as possible, knowing you probably haven’t realized the camera filming him all this time.
user_01: Y/N IS HERE??
user_02: is that why he’s blocking the cam?
“couldn’t sleep.” the frustrated whine you let out only fuels haechan’s chat as they get affirmation on your presence in the room.
you, on the other hand, only notice your boyfriend’s streaming materials properly set up after an entire minute had already passed. he’d usually store them away in one of the drawers so that meant…
a wave of shock washes over you at the late realization, eyes flicking wide open as you crouch down to hide yourself in the current state you were in. “oh my god, im so sorry!”
“noo y/n, love. it’s fine, hm? just fulfilling my part of a bet with renjun.” your boyfriend reassures you, stepping away from his desk to crouch down at your level, meeting your dazed eyes. he gently cups your face with the palms of his hands, placing a gentle kiss on your lips — the feeling still lingering even after he had already pulled away.
user_03: SOMEONE CLIP THIS VOD ITS TOO CUTE
user_04: hii y/n!! we’re all just chilling with hyuck dont be shy :>
user_05: @.user_03 I GOTCHU BFF
“i should’ve checked if you were up to something.” you mumble, soft enough to not get picked up by the audio from haechan’s mic.
“you didn’t know, it’s okay.” he giggles, the bubbly sound lifting your spirit by a little. “plus, you were all cute being whiny about sleep.”
you laugh along with him, lightly smacking his chest. “you’re literally the only one who’d think that.”
“i better be!” he protests with a gasp, “can’t have any others seeing you all cute and huggable like that. that’s part of my boyfriend rights.”
“what do i get in return then?”
“you, my love, get an unlimited pass to get cuddled by yours truly.”
“i think you benefit from that more than i do, babe.”
“do not!” haechan lets out a gasp, “but really, i can help you fall asleep- if you don’t mind the stream that is…”
“i think i’ve fallen asleep enough times on my own streams to not care, hyuck.” you chuckle, letting him lead you over to his desk.
he pulls a comfy chair from the side, patting the cushion to let you know where to sit. you give him a small smile, grateful he’s taking care of you despite his stream ongoing.
once you get confortable enough, your boyfriend gently guides your head to his shoulder before mindlessly reaching out to play with your hair while reading the chat messages. you’ve realized he formed a habit of doing so quite early on into your relationship.
it wasn’t like you minded it either, in fact, it was rather the opposite. to you, it was a soothing gesture he’d do every time the two of you were about to sleep. perhaps, you’ve grown too used to the feeling, to the point you couldn't sleep without it. without him.
god, you’re so thankful to have him by your side.
user_06: i want what they have :(((
user_07: you guys are the cutest W(`0`)W
you doze off before knowing it, your boyfriend chuckling to himself at how your lips go agape ever so slightly. “chat, isn’t my baby just the cutest?”
user_08: you mean OUR baby?”
haechan reads that comment aloud for the rest of his viewers to hear. “now where are you guys getting that from?? y/n is mine, back away!”
user_09: BRO URE GNA WAKE Y/N UP
user_10: NOT MY STRIMER (￣^￣)ゞ
user_11: Y/N CALLS US HER BABIES TOO DURING STREAMS- WE ALL HAVE RIGHTS
“as if.” haechan scoffs in faux annoyance, opting to hug you a little tighter than he was before (to quote and quote assert his dominance over chat). “you guys are probably jealous of me, huh? i’m the one who has y/n in their arms.”
“and i hope it stays like this forever.” he whispers, a growing smile on his face as he glances down, glad he’s the lucky one who does have you in his arms.
#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#nct angst#nct dream angst#haechan fluff#haechan angst#donghyuck fluff#donghyuck angst#nct imagines#nct drabbles#nct dream imagines#nct dream drabbles
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