#let alone the second half of the semester | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoshigray · 1 year ago

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𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐅@#𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲!? | suguru getō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time you wanna do something nice for your boyfriend, how about making sure he doesn’t see the package – let alone OPEN it! – before you? Especially if it’s something with bunny ears…!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you and Geto are college sweethearts - implied that you and Geto are early 20s - lingerie + bunny outfit - oral (m! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - use of an anal toy; butt plug - backshots/doggy style + deep impact positions - impact play (spanking) - clitoral play - praise - finger sucking - cervix fucking - unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - pet names (angel, baby, bunny girl, little bunny, good girl, my love, princess, sweet baby, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Mei Mei, and Gojo - reader is very shy but is trying their best! - kind of freaky! Geto awakening, lmao - humor - mention of drool/spit and tears - will be proofread l8r.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.2k (sigh..)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on this ask!! haven't done a suguru fic in a long while so ehh, why not? && tysm for 8.8k, my loves xoxo

“…”

Oh no.

“…Well,”

I have to be dreaming…

“Needless to say, I brought your package inside, Y/n.”

THERE’S NO WAY!!!

Being an introvert can have its trivial times; you should know that. Looking back on your life, you can’t seem to say you had the drive to stand out, an expertise you regret not putting effort into. You couldn’t do it; you’ve tried but to no avail! Going out of your comfort zone is too scary, shivering or freezing on the spot whenever you’re being spoken to or fumbling with words when trying to make a point. Man, it’s so embarrassing! It sucks — you’re a grown adult, and yet you can barely get through any gathering without anxiety rattling your bones.

Some are good at talking with others or are lucky enough to be naturally blessed with a social spirit. Some people like your boyfriend, for example.

Yes, you have a boyfriend.

Suguru Geto, your partner, wasn’t a complete extrovert. Honestly, he’s comfortable keeping to himself if he could choose. After meeting you, he preferred dates when you visit each other’s dormitories and enjoy each other’s company. However, compared to you, his people-pleasing skills outclassed yours unquestionably. Geto knew how to talk, drawing people in with his mellow tone and inviting aura. He was good at mingling and making everyone feel comfortable around him. You were a victim to it, lured in by his charm and soft ambiance.

He was terrific, a role model to you. How he would efficiently put himself out there while you stayed close in his shadow never failed to inspire you. The way he spoke, how he listened intently to others’ concerns, and his maturity seen as a dependable figure to lean on. It’s absurd to think that such a marvelous man fell in love with you and asked to court you.

You and Geto have dated since your junior year of college; what you once thought would be a tiny crush on one of the school’s notorious heartthrobs became your first and longest-running relationship! How did that happen!? You couldn’t tell; one moment, you two were paired up for an end-of-semester project, and he managed to have you relax and talk with him daily. The next thing you know, he’s asking you to live with him in his apartment the second you finish graduation. Now, you two have been a couple for nearly half a decade. It’s unbelievable to think about.

But even with how long you two have been together, there are moments where you feel as though you weren’t doing your part. Being in a relationship is such a hurdle for an awkward person, aka you, such as going stiff whenever old friends of Suguru pop up and greet him or him inviting you along to parties only for you to stay glued to a corner in silence. You felt as though you were…boring? Dull? Deadweight!? The list goes on, and the guilt never tires you out.

And Geto – God bless him – has repeatedly expressed and assured you that you didn’t have to feel as such. His alluring purple eyes and soothing voice vouch that he doesn’t mind standing in as your sponsor and speaking for you, and you are eternally grateful to the stars above for gracing a loving and understanding boyfriend your way. Nonetheless, the stress that churns your stomach doesn’t go away. He’s always been the one to voice for you, attend to you, and look out for you. Hell, even in the bedroom, he’s doing most of the work. Again, he’s never complained nor seems to ever will, but still!

He’s done so much for you, and you want to meet him at least halfway and make him feel appreciated. So, you took matters into your own hands and decided to do something special for your man!

Here was the plan: going out and buying stuff meant talking to people, and talking meant letting strangers know about your business; merely thinking about it had you trembling a storm. So yeah, nope. You went on the Internet and found sites catering to your search. You can’t say you were the type to wear anything risqué, especially in the bedroom. So, you dialed up your two best friends, Mei Mei and Shoko, to help you find stuff that they thought would look nice for you to wear.

Luckily, they came in clutch and found something for a beginner like you! It’s not something you’d wear in public—you’d rather die—but it’s a good start when implementing new things into your lifestyle. You added the item to your cart, purchased it, and waited silently for your package to arrive. To say you were anxious about this new step of adulthood was on the nail, but you beamed with glee once you got the notification that your bundle would be delivered today!

Before then, you decided to nap and wait for the item to be delivered to your apartment door. You woke up to that once you saw the notice on your phone, yawning your way out of the shared bedroom to retrieve it.

However, what you saw as you entered the living room stopped you dead in your tracks, and your eyes widened with absolute horror.

What you should have accounted for was that today was a Thursday, meaning Geto would usually come home from work on weekdays. So, while you were snoring in the comfort of your blanket, your boyfriend was the first to see a mysterious box with your name on it at his doorstep. And to add more salt to the wound, you caught him in the act unboxing the package and inspecting its contents, and you’re too shocked to fall on your knees at what he has in his hands.

Geto sat on the living room couch, the box perched on the coffee table opened with the wrappings decorating the brown table surface. His eyes find your figure to latch onto, but yours honed on what he was inspecting. In his right hand was a black lacy top meant to be worn around a chest—the other holding onto a headband with bunny ears of velvet material.

This is where we lay our current scene; astounded, you could only stand in place — like Geto — at the sight before you. And with every passing second, you wanted nothing but to explode into bits. Your boyfriend had found your package and opened it!

Of course, you’d be stammering your words! “W-Where did you get that!?” What a silly question; where else would he have gotten it, dumbass?

Nonetheless, the dark-haired man answers after a forced cough. “Well, umm, I saw it at the door coming from work. I brought it in and was going to let you know, but you were asleep, and I…didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Why did you open it if you knew it was mine??”

Geto raised his hands defensively, still holding onto the items. “I–I’m sorry! I thought it was something different, like the cute glass cups you liked and ordered last week. I figured I would set those up on your behalf. I had no idea it would be something…” Your feet suddenly felt heavy, watching your boyfriend scan the lace top. “Like this.”

Any attempt to fight the mini shakes of your knees was impractical, and your throat was going so dry that you were scared to swallow.

“This doesn’t seem like something you would buy; could someone have accidentally sent this with the wrong information?” He inquires with furrowed brows. “Better not be some fucked up prank or whatever.”

“N-No, it’s, I…” Fuck, this had to be the worst scenario to admit this. “….I did mean to buy it.”

Have you ever had those moments where people would look at you after saying something that you wish you hadn’t? You indeed hated those moments; they made you feel so scrutinized by the public judging you. And seeing your man’s eyes widen and his expression morphed his lips to a small “o” shape? Oh, you couldn’t breathe adequately.

“You bought,” your quivering lips worsen when his left wrist flicks with the bunny-eared headband. “This?”

Your hands come to your face, shielding yours from his as you silently squat down with the weight of your humiliation. The shakes rock your entire frame, and you can sense your tears forming. This officially was the worst day ever; out of all the dilemmas that could happen, why did it have to be the worst one of all?!? Your partner had found out about the out-of-the-norm purchase you made without you present to explain yourself first. Now he probably thinks he’s dating some freak into weird shit. Can this day get any worse!?!

You wanted to cry, hoping the floor beneath you would give way and ingest you out of this cold, cruel world. But alas, you’re still here and can hear the footsteps approaching your crouching state, and you jolt when Geto embraces you.

“Y/n,” God, why did he say your name like that? His tone was smooth like honey, and he rubbed your back as he brought you closer. “It’s okay, baby. I didn’t mean to judge you or anything; I was just curious, is all. Sorry, I opened your package without letting you know, okay?… Ahh, did I make my sweet angel cry?” Raven brows scrunched together at the view of you burrowing into his chest more. “Aww, Y/n, I’m sorry…”

Yes, you were indeed sniffling into his sweatshirt. Although, it’s not that he opened your stuff without your consent that upset you the most. You whine while moving your face, “I just…wanted to do something different.”

“Hmm?” Geto’s hand doesn’t stop rubbing your back, speaking to you in a low mode. “What’s the reason, sweetie?”

“Because, well,” you chewed the inside of your cheek as they warmed. “I just felt like I wasn’t…Like—sigh, you’ve done so much for me in this relationship, and I’m so lucky to have you as my boyfriend. But I feel like I don’t do my part as I should, you know?” Nothing is said from the other, so you continue. “I just–sniff–want you to know that I appreciate you and all you’ve done, although I didn’t know if my words would do me justice. So, I, uhh,” your thumbs find their way to fiddle with themselves. “I asked Shoko and Mei Mei for help and bought…..this to wear for you.”

Three seconds pass without saying anything, then six. At ten seconds, the silence suffocates you and probes your unease more and more.

However, his chest’s sudden rise and fall startles you, along with his pleasant laughter. “So that’s what this is all about, huh?” Your body’s rigid compared to his lively motion. “My angel was gonna doll up for me?”

“Yeah, and you ruined it!” You fuss, your cute teary face all hot and puffy as you complain. “I just wanted to do something special for you after I finally muster up the courage to go out of my comfort zone and do something nice and…well, sexy,” you cringed internally at the final word. Yet, it was true.

Geto hums through your explanation. “You’re always sexy to me.”

“That’s not the point!” He laughs at your remark, the sound filling you with warmth. “I–…I’m different compared to you. Whenever we’re out, you’re so much more social than me; I feel like I’m a burden or make it seem I need you to watch over me or something…And I know you’ve said you’re okay with it and don’t mind, but it’s….sniff–I don’t know, like I’m putting more on your plate when it’s more of a ‘me’ problem…”

Your eardrums pick up low chuckles. Then, like the Prince Charming he is, Geto uses his hand to bring your chin up. Your face warms up at his handsome face in your vicinity. “Baby, although I appreciate you going out your way to do something for me—believe me, I could jump over the moon right now—you don’t have to go outside what’s comfortable to you to impress me or anything.”

“But I—“

“I mean it; I really don’t mind that I have to be some voucher for you. It’s not a burden; that’s just who you are. And if that’s the case, you’re too cute as hell the way you are.” You didn’t see his small smile grow because your eyes bashfully averted away from his gaze. “Now, if you want to build your confidence, don’t be afraid to ask me for help, okay? No need to force yourself to change up for the sake of ‘appeasing’ me or feel as though you’re not fitting whatever bullshit mold of an appropriate partner you’re expected to be.”

“Suguru…”

“Y/n,” your name pierces your heart like an arrow as his hand prompts your face back to him; God, he’s so dreamy. “I like you no matter what. You’re my princess; your troubles are my troubles. I’d tell you long ago that you’re bothersome if it wasn’t. But you’re not, so don’t put too much weight on yourself. Promise not to stress yourself over this, okay?” He boops your nose, “Remember: communication is key, right?”

Once again, you’re reminded how lucky you are to have such a man like Suguru Geto to court you. So understanding and attentive to your feelings and wrapping you in his blanket of love constantly makes it hard not to fall in love all over again. Chewing your bottom lip doesn’t even help the heat of your cheeks creeping onto your ears.

“You’re right,” you almost melt under his lips as he kisses your forehead. “I promise.”

“Good girl,” your heart skips a beat. “But what are we gonna do with all this?” He points to the open package with his chin. “Now I feel kinda bad for having you buy this for me and ruining the special occasion.”

Wincing at the box, you remove yourself from Geto’s embrace to inspect the contents. “Honestly, looking at them in real time, I regret buying them. I’ll return them tomorrow or Monday, seeing I don’t necessarily need—”

“Woah, woah,” you stop in your tracks at your boyfriend’s exclamation. “Why are you returning them?”

Huh? “Well, I mean, there’s no need for them, no? It was meant to be a surprise.”

“Yeah, but you already spent so much money for my sake. Plus,” Geto picks up the bunny ear headband from the package. “If this is what you were gonna wear for me, then it would be kind of upsetting if I didn’t see you wear it at least once.”

Oh, God, no. “S–Suguru, it’s totally fine; I can just—“ Oh no, he’s looking at you with that face, his eyebrows slightly trenched with a minuscule sad glint in his expression. Your stomach was doing flips out of guilt and concern, and the formidable gets worse when he asks the following:

“Y/n,” you swallow spit thickly as the man dangles the headband around. “Would you please wear this tonight?”

The question nails you to the ground, frozen in place as it rings within your mind. You? Wearing this for tonight?! “N–No, I can’t!!”

“Why not? You bought it to be worn!”

“Yes, but t-that was before you looked through my package and didn’t give me the chance to try it on myself!” When you thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than before, the embarrassment of this predicament humbles you. “And thanks to you—“

“T-Thanks to me??”

“—I don’t wanna wear it anymore!!”

Geto raises his other hand in defense. “Okay, okay! Look, I’m sorry; it’s my bad. But, to be honest, I’m thrilled that you went out of your way to think of doing something for me out of nowhere, and as I’m looking at this outfit,” He glances at the rest of the materials in the box. “I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it.” You can’t tell if your heart is thumping from his words or because you’re about ten seconds away from combusting. “So…One night to test it out, yeah? And if you surely don’t like it, then you can ship it back tomorrow.”

He’s so good at that, using his charm and words to shade you into rational thought. You take a huge breath and exhale through stressed nostrils, and your wish to dig a hole and rot away increases.

Of course, you bought the items to treat your boyfriend for something out of the norm; that was the entire point of the plan! But what is the use of following a plan when you’ve let your guard down, and the element of surprise backfires in a way that you had foolishly unforeseen?! There’s no way you could put that stuff on you now that you’ve been exposed. Absolutely not!

“I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it…”

And yet, Geto’s words repeat like a broken record, each time making you as timid as the last. He wants to see you wear what you had bought, so eager to marvel at his partner adorning such risqué clothing that you don’t comprehend how you put said purchase in your cart! The thought of wearing such a thing in front of your man bubbles an excitement that is borderline frightening yet new; picturing his expressions and imagining his compliments is dangerous for your brain to form a headache.

But not as dangerous as the slight friction of your inner thighs pressing close to each other.

With a stare downcast and fidgeting thumbs, you ask, “…Just for tonight?”

And Geto assures you with a nod.

“Only for tonight.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Geto sat on the bed in silence, listening to the ticks of the bedroom clock on the wall as he waited patiently.

As you two entered the bedroom, the man found his place on the bed, a still figure in the dimly lit room. You, on the other hand, made a beeline straight towards the bathroom. “Wait here…D-Don’t peek inside!” You commanded him, your voice betraying a hint of shyness. He obeyed, settling on top of the comforter.

Minutes soon went to double digits; nervousness wasn’t something that usually struck Geto. But the more he sat on the bed and listened to your mutters behind the door–distancing the two–the more he couldn’t help but feel an itch to worry for you. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Y–Yes!” That didn’t sound convincing… “I’ll be out in just a second!”

“Okay…”

And so he waited for a minute. Which turned to two minutes…Three…..

Anticipation transitioned to unease, calling out to you once more. “Y/n?” No answer; not a good sign. The tall man gets up and strides to knock on the bathroom door. “Baby? Everything alright?” Nothing, even if he knocks on the white surface again.

CREAAAAK…!

But his frets are handled once he hears the sound of the door opening slowly. He steps back to make way for the person on the other side of the door, and lo and behold, you stand.

There are things in Geto’s life that never cease to amaze him—you being one of them. From the moment he saw you, he swore that in his life, there had never been something that looked so mesmerizing and captured his eye in an instant, and Gojo and Shoko are always sure to tease the guy for such a confession. And the time you reciprocated his feelings and accepted being his domestic other half, words could not describe the elation his poor heart couldn’t handle.

Right now, he is experiencing those same feelings when he’s with you. His expectations were blown out of the water once you entered the plane again.

Your face was the first thing he looked to, a sheepish yet cute expression that went with the adorable white bunny ear headband you adorned at the top of your head. Your casual attire had been withdrawn to the bathroom tiles, substituted with the outfit you had been fussing about until now. Your chest harbored a black lacy negligee with intricate designs that had Geto’s purple eyes dance and trace around; the faint drapes of the gown cascaded down to your upper thighs, yet your underwear could still be seen. It matched the lacy black thong that made your boyfriend gulp thickly at how gorgeous your hips looked–not to mention the tiny bow at the top center. And to complete the look, black stockings come up your knees.

“…”

There is silence between you and him. The only sound you can use to distract yourself is the beat of your heart.

“…”

But the longer you wait for a response, the louder the rhythm.

“…”

The lack of his voice was killing you – eating you alive – and you’re sure that you’re bound to faint if this kept going. Did I wear it wrong? Do I look weird?! Oh God, please say some—

“Y/n”

You squeaked. “Y-Yes?”

“Can you please,” Geto takes a few steps closer, enough for his hands to come around your waist and pull you in. You almost choke on the air. “Remind me to thank Mei Mei and Shoko first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Wh–What the—What does that mean—?”

“You look amazing.” Three simple words have you still. “Like, seriously. Hold on, let me get a good look at you.” He leans around to look at the details of your sides, and your brain short circuits when he moves behind you and lifts the negligee to see the rear of your panties. What is happening… “Holy shit, this suits you so well.”

“Re…Really?”

“Really.” You can see the sincerity in his gaze as he surveys every physical thing about you. “I’m so tempted to grab my phone to take a picture.”

“Oh my God, please don’t!!” Your frightened hands grab his sweatshirt with a vigorous grip, contrasting the trembling owner. “Don’t take a picture, please!!”

“I won’t, I won’t!” the dark-haired partner assures you through a fit of laughter, his warm, slender hands finding your fists and pounding him. Again, you are frozen stiff when he kisses your temple. “Besides, I prefer not sharing something as beautiful with anyone else.”

You don’t know how many compliments you can take before spiraling into a puddle. “You really do like it.”

“I love it,” another kiss to your cheek while his hands now find purchase on your waist. Oxygen suddenly feels foreign when you’re so close to him to pick up the cologne on his clothes. “It looks so much better now that you’re wearing it. You really know how to spoil me, huh, angel.”

Was it him being spoiled right now or you? How he spoke to you had your heart racing uncontrollably since you left the bathroom. You’ve been a complete nervous wreck from the moment your friends probed you to buy this outfit up until now, and now you can honestly feel that you’re feeling a sense of glee wearing it because your boyfriend likes it so much. Regrets no longer linger in your bones, goosebumps calm down on your skin, and you hum as you return the embrace.

That is…until you feel something pressed against you. Something….hard.

Curiosity sprinkles your pretty little head until it snaps and your hips sway to experiment. A subtle jolt rocks Geto—confirming your hypothesis.

“Su..Suguru…” You don’t know why, but the following words felt prohibited to leave your lips. “Is that—“

“Hnnm…Sorry,” he purrs abjectly. “Guess I got a little too excited.” He lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you, and your stomach churns at the sight of his stare, holding a misty, lustful glint. You don’t even mention his hands silently moving to cup your ass. “Is that too much, baby?”

Violet eyes latched with yours make you shiver, suppressing a gasp when he throws a slick rut to grind the tent of his dark sweatpants on you. “N–No!” You squeaked, feeling small when his smile got broader.

“So sweet like always,” a chaste, gentle kiss to your lips feels like clouds. He then steps back out of your arms, pulling down his sweats to reveal the erection contained by the boxer briefs. Geto sits on the edge of the bed and tilts his head. “So, will my sweet bunny girl care for me tonight?” Seeing you gawk at him, he stifles a chuckle, and it takes a good mental slap to bring you back to reality. A few seconds pass, and you finally build up the courage to walk forward and crouch between his spread legs.

Mini prayers replay in your brain as your hand hesitantly touches the clothed shaft, the firmness of it getting stiffer and stiffer as your fingers touch thoroughly. When you’re ready, you bring the hem of his underwear down, welcoming his cock to the open air for it to intimidate you with its girth. Precum trails from the urethra, traveling down from the corona, foreskin, and underside. God, it’s been a while since you were up close and personal with this thing; its sheer size is enough to reconsider the regret you threw out minutes ago. Too late now, though.

Come on, Y/n, you use your inner thoughts to motivate you. You’re doing this for Suguru; don’t chicken out now! So, you bring your lips to meet the head of his cock, earning a hum from the man above. Blowjobs have never been your forte; again, it’s been a while since you’ve had his cock near anything outside of your lower regions. But today was different as you used your tongue to lick the lip of the cockhead, the salty flavor of his fluid teasing your tastebuds. And with the sounds of him whimpering, you begin to remember the routine as the seconds go. Your mouth takes in his tip with hollowed cheeks, and your hands grasp around the shaft before you glide up and down.

“Hahhhh, yes, sweetie,” Geto soothed, biting his lip at the display of you pleasing him with your plump lips. “Just like that…Nnngh…!” His words fuel more confidence in your motion, using this to move to the next step and take in as much of his shaft as you can. You don’t go all the way to the hilt–a task that you’re afraid will have you choking– but once you reach halfway, your head starts to bob up and down at a gradual pace. Black brows furrow at the movement; fuck, you felt so good for him. So nice and warm on his dick; he wouldn’t mind having his whole evening dedicated to this. “Fuck, my love, loosen your jaw for me…Mmmm, good girl, that’s it. Keep sucking like that.”

It’s not before long that you find the groove; albeit sucking on Geto amateurishly, he places a hand on your head, which you can only assume is that you’re doing a decent job. Saliva coats the limb busying your oral cavity, mixing with the excess come that escapes and spreads with your lips going to and fro. Your tongue goes on to flick and lap on his tip some more, evoking the hottest moans you’ve ever heard from him. And while you stroke his member, your free hand finds his scrotum and massages the pair in unison, a buck of his hips as your thumb presses down on the testicles with a curl. Your bobbing becomes frequent, a mediocre cadence that has your partner throw his head back. The veins scraping along the upper walls of your mouth are too erotic for your mind to comprehend

“Shiiiit, I can’t—Nnnmm!” He hisses before he cups your wet cheeks. “You’re doing so good, princess.”

Your eyes open and peer to the person talking above you. With a soft ‘pop,’ you release his length before placing sloppy kisses and licks. “Yew fink shoow?” You speak with a mouthful of his dick to his frenulum, humoring the dark-haired man.

“Yes, little bunny,” he teases, and you can sense the throbs between your legs getting worse after referring to you with that title. “Wait, I just remembered something…Hold on, lie on the bed for me.”

You’re gently pushed off him as Geto stands up from the bed, confused. You take your place atop the bed, and he grabs something from his sweatpants and heads into the bathroom. The sound of running water from the sink fills the silence before it’s shut off. He then returns to the bedroom holding a bottle of lube you’re familiar with in one hand, and the other with a wet, metal…fluffy…looks like a kind of—

Eyes shoot wide open when you finally register what he’s holding, and the anxiety hits you like a punch to haunt you. “Wh–W-Where did y-you get that?!”

“I saw that you left this in the box before dressing up,” no, you didn’t forget a damn thing. You deliberately avoided the very item that Geto was holding because looking at it was embarrassing enough; it would be horrifying to have this in the same room as you now! Between his thumb and forefinger was a metal butt plug–a small one, nothing too major–with what appeared to be a white fluff ball at the end. It’s meant to be worn with what you wore, but these bunny ears already trampled your dignity. Adding an anal toy to the frey might as well have you sign up for assisted suicide! “I figured we needed it to complete the look.”

“N-No! No, no, no, absolutely not!” Rejections fly out of your system. “That’s too much!”

Geto blinks. “You think so? It’s pretty small from what I’ve seen.”

You’ve seen these before!?!? “Even then, I don’t wanna—“

“Didn’t you see this with the set before you bought it?”

You almost choked on your tongue. “W-Well…Y-Yes, but,” your thumbs find themselves fidgeting, anything to distract the humiliation that overshadows your nervous state. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to…wear it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s—” embarrassing as hell! A bunny tail as a butt plug!? Just kill me!! “—It’s…..It’ll look weird on me.”

Oh, how you didn’t know how much of a switch that flipped for Geto, the other quietly thought to himself before speaking again. “Y/n,” you perked at the mention of your name. “Turn around for me.” Chewing on your lips, you shook your head—you knew what he was doing. “C’mon, now, I thought you were my sweet girl.” You flatten your lips when he comes close to squeeze your cheeks. “Please? Wear this for me, my little bunny?”

Oh, for God’s sake, this night was getting more challenging to get through with the hour. Inner dialogue can’t even bring you to a consensus, as your conscience is getting in the way of coming to a decision. On the one hand, you feel as though you’re venturing out of your comfort zone enough, wearing this flustering nightgown and these damn bunny ears. Yet, at the same time, this isn’t about you; this is all meant to be for your partner, something entirely out of the norm to make him feel special. And you being reluctant to accept his wishes is just pushing you back to square one and defeating the purpose of this entire dilemma, right?

Your hands find your face to shield, releasing a long sigh that should have stretched to your final days. Nonetheless, you slump your arms down in defeat, and a short nod is given: “.......okay.”

Without being told again, you feebly follow Geto’s request and turn around. Your lower half is the only thing in his line of sight. Your lips can’t stop quivering in such a position, and breathing becomes arduous once you feel your boyfriend’s weight dent the mattress. You jolt when his hand comes to the top of your laced thong, bringing the material down to expose the bare skin of your ass to him. Damn it! A pillow within your proximity is brought to your face, using it to hide yourself from the world.

However, “Aww, don’t be so shy on me, baby,” Slender fingers faintly brush from your spine down to the very crevice of your bottom, making your body shudder. “Shouldn’t be hiding that pretty face from me.” The sound of your gasp, when his lubed fingers teeter around your rear entrance, ignites a flame, and now he has a thirst he’s itching to indulge with. “Shhhh, breathe, my love. Gonna go real nice and slow for you, okay?”

The pillow muffles your moans as Geto begins to push one finger inside your puckered hole slightly. The stretch of the digit is a pain you have never experienced, making you whimper like a poor babe. Your boyfriend coaxes you through it, adding more lube to ease your ass as his finger goes back and forth to prepare you. Adding another finger causes you to shake your head, and your entrance accommodates the insertions, whether you like it or not.

A full minute or more passes where your ass is played with, and Geto smoothes you with a rub of your buttcheeks as he removes his digits out of your lubed hole. “Now, time to test this out…” A sudden chill has your arch, and the cold metal of the butt plug has you clamping involuntarily, yet the raven-haired partner reminds you to relax your body while he pushes the toy inside you. It doesn’t invade with the snap of the finger; thirty seconds in, and your butthole is slowly but surely adapting to the alien plaything. And before you know it, you feel the whole thing finally be swallowed into your rear walls; you grip the pillow as your mouth releases silent cries.

“Haaah…I-Is it in?” You lifted your head to inquire.

“Yes, angel,” he playfully smacks your ass, and you jerk at the unexpected contact. “Damn, now you look all cute and sexy with this on.” Geto then shifts to stand on his knees before maneuvering above you, removing the pillow from beneath you so you can’t hide yourself from him any longer. And more trembles crawl all over your body when you feel his solid cock create friction on the rift of your ass. “Lift your butt a bit for me,” your hips follow his hands, guiding you upward until you meet his pelvis. “Good girl…Gonna start putting it inside, okay?”

You nod leisurely, grabbing the comforter beneath you as Geto pulls the thong to the side. It’s no surprise to see that your cunt is covered in your slick, the tip of his member queued to kiss your labia. The lascivious man hisses at the sensation, anticipation climbing up as he pushes himself unhurriedly. The same goes for you, your mouth agape with quieted shrieks when the cockhead makes it inside your vagina, gripping the sheets as he slowly pushes more of himself, every inch of his penis becoming greater and greater, inaudible babbles once the base meets your folds.

Geto allows you a couple of seconds to stabilize your breathing, starting with excruciatingly slow thrusts–so painfully slow that you can feel every dent and vein that ventures inward and outward your chasm; it’s hard for your hips not to move on their own. With every pull, your inner walls clench on the shaft as if wanting more as he leaves your warmth. And every push makes you full to the brink of tears, and your brows trenched together as your fists ball the sheets.

“Mmaahh…Nnahaah…!” The brush of your velvety channel feels good within the minute, and the insertion pain is now being replaced with pleasure. Your roll to the ceiling at the graze of your G-spot, the butt plug made your nerves more sensitive with how busy your lower half was. And once he’s warmed up enough, your companion turns up the speed of his ruts. “Taahhh, I, ohhhGod…! Sugu—Oooo!!” Did he just poke your cervix!? You sobbed out loud.

“Nnmm, holy shiiit, you feel so good, sweetie,” Geto moans, taking in the view before him. The lingerie you were wearing gave a beautiful image of your backside, his indigo orbs survey from the muscles of your back to your prompted ass. Holy hell, it was driving him crazy, watching how the flesh of your butt reverberates with the smack of his pelvis. It makes him want to go ever faster, harder. And don’t get him started on the white bunny tail butt plug; shit was too cute to resist and toy with, pulling on the item lightly and turning it around.

The action had your holes clenching simultaneously. “Shh–Shhtop, Suguuu!!” You wailed out, toes curling as he taunted your anus with light pulls and pushes. “D-Don’t do that…!”

“Heh, sorry, my bunny girl,” God, the way he was teasing you was literal hell on Earth with how he’s using your body right now. “You know I can’t help myself when it comes to you…Aiisshh! Fuhuck, you’re squeezing me so hard…Hmm? You like it when I tease you, huh, baby?”

You shook your head no in a rushed manner, the heat of your face already coursing to your ears. But then your frame jerked along with the sound of something, and it was a hand smacking on the skin of your butt.

“Now, don’t be like that,” Geto chuckles above you as you cry. The same hand he used to slap you soothes the blow. “You know you can be honest with me. At least your body is…Don’t you like being close to me like this?” You don’t reply, too busy squealing at another graze of your sensitive spots. So, he slaps your buttocks once more. “Don’t ignore me, love.”

“—Mmmph! Ahh-hahh, I-I,” You swallow spit before choking on it. “I can’t…Hic, it’s shoh embarrassing…!”

“Aww, is the little bunny still scared?” He then bends down to your ear, a big move on his part as you swear you’re bound to shut down from the closeness. “Hmm? What’s so embarrassing?”

A sluggish pull back before Geto snaps his hips into you harshly, another jab to your cervix practically has you seeing stars. “Hoooh!! Be–Becausee!!” God, it’s so hard to think right now, the pound of your head getting harsher with the increased heat. “Y–You—Ahhaa! Youu make me…s-sound sho dirt—Eeeyahh!”

“Oh?” He licks your ear before nibbling on the helix. “You don’t like it when I fuck you like this? Don’t like it when I whisper to your ear while you scream for me?” You shake your head no, which is extinguished once Geto stuffs your mouth with his fingers. Your tongue, played with by his fore and middle finger, has you mewling like no tomorrow. “Hmmm, that’s a funny thing to say when your pussy can’t stop twitching on me. Make it seem like you’re not embarrassed to milk my cock dry, huh, princess.”

“Nnoohh, it’s not—hic—not like that!” A tear trickles down a hot cheek as you suck on his fingers, his thumb there unaware to wipe it. “Don’t say stuff like that…!”

“Why? Too crude for my angel’s ears?” He keeps teasing you, “Even though we’ve fucked lots of times, you still act like such a cutie.”

“Stooop,” Lord have mercy. Any more than this, and you’re bound to melt away sooner rather than later. “D-Don’t tease me…”

He can’t help it, not when you sound so cute and flustered because of him. It makes him think of an idea and straightens himself off of you. But not away from you — he then grabs your leg and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other, changing the position so you can look at each other. Something a lot more intimate as he goes back to drilling his length into your heat. With a smug grin, he asks, “Is this less embarrassing for you, sweet baby?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your throat; no, this is much worse! Your shrieks returned to erupt out of your figure as Geto’s pace increased. The new angle achieves having his dick venture deeper inside your throbbing channel, pounding to you until the hilt meets your southern lips, and the bump and grind of your clitoris with the motion is enough to have you winded. “—Ohoohh!! Dooahh! N-Nooo, d-don’t look…!” You try to shield your face with your forearm.

Yet Geto instantly refutes that, using his free hand to move it while he bends back down; his added weight has you whining aloud. “Don’t do that,” he groans at the contract of your walls, retaliating with more rough plunges. “No more hiding from me; I wanna see that pretty face always.”

“Suguu, pleasee—Nnnn!” Scrapes to the walls of your vaginal walls are even more dangerous in this position. “T’oo faaast!!”

“Hnngh! FFfuckin’ shit…But you feel so good,” Geto presses his forehead onto yours. “You feel so good, you look so good, like holy fuck! You drive me too crazy; it’s–Ghhh!- just not right how you can make me go wild. I wanna see it all, wanna see how cute you look, how dirty you look, and how fucking hot you sound because of me—and only me.” A kiss to your nose before placing one on the corner of your lips. “Starting now, I wanna see all these sides of you, so don’t hide them from me…”

You are given no room to reply to his statements as a kiss to your mouth finally seals the deal for tonight. Light pecks gradually dwell into steamy, longing smooches, tongue and teeth classing for intimacy. It’s all it takes for you to sink into his touch finally and the comforter beneath you, submitting to him as he finishes you off.

Geto then rolls his hips at an erratic cadence, and relentless hits to your cervix have you blubbering helplessly into his lips. Ungovernable throbs around his girth are ineluctable, the climb of your orgasm climbing up tenfold with the brush of your clit up against his pelvis. OhhhGod! It’s coming, I’m gonna—“Mmmmph!”

The peak of your crescendo has you moaning deep into the kiss, your writhing figure submitted to the end of your session as your cunt flutters around Get’s girth as the shocks of the climax rock your entire body. And your contraction is all your partner needs to let go of the reins and cease to his own release, his pulsating shaft expelling his load deep into your palpitating vagina. The two of you continue to kiss as your bodies heave and jolt, with the last of the aftershocks coursing through your nerves.

He breaks the kiss, the two of you gasping for air in sync. Drool slips from your lips and comes down to your chin, and Geto smiles before kissing your cheek. “Thank you for the gift,” he commends you. “Ya sure I can’t get at least one picture of you?”

You’re undoubtedly out of breath, yet your facial expression doesn’t fail to display unease. “Please…stop teasing me,” you sniffle with hooded eyes.

“Okay, my sweet bunny girl,” he chortles. “Well, at the very least, let’s go another round, ‘kay?”

“Wha—H-huh!?!?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…I will never listen to your advice ever again.”

“Wow, rude?”

“Right, like whatever happened to ’thank you’?”

As far as mornings go, this one was ultimately out of the norm. When was the last time you woke up with your body sore to the bone? Because the moment the sun’s rays peaked through the curtains and landed on your eyes, you couldn’t move a single finger or toe without feeling a sense of heaviness. Or maybe it was because you found that your tall boyfriend was still sound asleep; his slim frame was spooning you close to him. You could hear his light snore as he rested in the crook of your neck and arm to your shoulder with a strong leg between yours.

Your face warmed up at the realization that he was so close to your proximity, and it only worsens when you realize that you both are in the nude, which rarely [if not NEVER] happens! Where’s your pajamas? At the very least, an oversized shirt and panties!

But you couldn’t find them anywhere. All you could see was a black negligee and a white bunny-eared headband, and memories of last night finally started to swim into your brain. But the true horror was when you saw the butt plug from before down on the comforter, and it slipped past your mind not to scream and kick the item in humiliating terror while abruptly waking up your partner. WHAT THE FUUUUCK!??!?

And to add the nail to the coffin, your body didn’t look like how you left it yesterday. As you got up to head for the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and felt like you witnessed a scene from a horror movie. Your skin was covered in light bruises and bitemarks, discoloration where it’s implied there were hickeys received all around your neck, stomach, and inner thighs. You were still wearing the black knee-high stockings. However, those looked utterly different from how they looked initially; tears and holes were found all over, but most prominently, the inside of your upper thigh area.

Speechless was the word to describe your puzzlement—appalled, dumbstruck, void of thinking as your reflection showcased an entirely different person. Th-…There’s no way… That’s all you could say to yourself, but it was the way.

Once Geto left for work, it wasn’t any easier for you to work around the house. Working remotely suddenly became an obstacle, as every time your mind recalled the events that transpired the night before, you’d become too flustered to continue your work. You couldn’t even walk into your shared bedroom, too rattled to the point that you just used the guest bathroom! The notion of embarrassment was getting challenging to function today; had you known this would’ve been the effect of buying that damn outfit, you would’ve stopped yourself!

Hence, you’re now complaining to the people who probed you to purchase it in the first place. “A ‘thank you’? I could barely enter past the threshold of my own room, and you want me to thank you!?”

It was late afternoon. You were washing dishes and drying them in the kitchen while putting them aside. But you weren’t alone; your laptop sat at the kitchen island with an application running. On the screen, a window harbored two screens with different faces: one woman with brown hair appearing to smoke out her balcony, and the other with pale blue hair styling her hair to a bun.

The brunette, Shoko, responds to your words. “Y/n, calm down; all you did was have sex in a bunny costume; nothing radioactive happened there.”

“Yeah, well, I feel like I did something radioactive!” You retorted, wiping the sponge across the wet plate concerningly fast. You pick up the headband from last night and grimace. “Damn this headband…God, I’m so sore.”

“Having sex for an hour straight will do that to a person,” a nerve is stricken when the other speaks; Mei Mei is now done styling the back of her hair with a sly smile. “Pfft, I still find it funny that you passed out.”

“It’s not funny!!” To your dismay, you only make your two best friends laugh even harder. “This is not how this is supposed to be; I don’t even recognize my own body…You saw the pictures!”

Shoko titters, “Yeah, I saw, and it looks like Geto couldn’t keep his hands off you.” She takes a drag of her cigarette and exhales the smoke. “Isn’t that a good thing, though? It means that he liked the gift and appreciated it tenfold.”

“Exactly,” Mei Mei agrees. Your complaints seem to suggest that we completed the mission of making him feel special—which was, you know, the main reason you wanted to do it in the first place.”

“Oh, he felt special, alright,” you said, placing a dry plate on the rest. Although you’d been in a constant state of indignity, what they were saying was true. The whole point of making a fool of yourself and wearing a costume was meant to be outside the norm. It’s exciting for you and Geto, and you can assume that the outcome brought a satisfying end for both parties.

…However, it would be nice if it didn’t cost you a lot of hickeys and soreness. You sighed heavily, “You’re right…I’m just happy that he enjoyed it. He even said I looked cute dressed as his little bunny.”

“I bet!! Why didn’t you take pictures!?” Shoko complains, her device coming closer to her face to emphasize her disheartened tone of voice.

“I would rather die than have photos of that of me around,” the thought alone causes an unsettling quiver.

But Mei Mei also voices her grievances. “Ehhh, but I bet you looked so adorable~. You better take pictures the next time you do something like that!”

You could’ve sworn your neck was nearly to break when you snapped your head to look at your laptop screen. “Are you insane; what do you mean next time?”

A silver brow rises. “Oh, be real, Y/n; you really think this is some one-and-done type thing? I bet you ten dollars that Geto would love to pull those bunny ears out again.”

The brunette chuckles after exhaling more smoke from her pretty lips. “Aye, maybe we should find you some more outfits to wear for him. Maybe we should have you in a fox costume next.”

Your mouth drops in displeasure, but Mei Mei beats you into saying something. “Mmm, now that’s a good idea; I saw something online with cute ears and a skirt. And,” her lavender eyes narrow with a scoff. “I’m sure you’d love to wear the butt plug tail of that one too, Y/n—“

“GOODBYE!!”

You slapped your laptop screen down as your farewell to your best friends, whom you’re sure are probably laughing to themselves for witnessing your reaction.

Your cheeks are so hot that they are in discomfort; unbelievable. A next time!? You couldn’t comprehend the possibility that you’d be wearing something like last night again. Could you even look at bunny ears the same again after what just happened?! Bunny tails, too; what you primitively thought was cute and pure has now been tarnished to a suggestive and erogenous image. No, there’s unquestionably no way you would be put into that position ever again. No, no, nope, and no!!

DING-DONG!!

The sudden noise of the doorbell diminishes your reluctant energy within milliseconds. You checked the kitchen clock — Geto should be coming home right about now, but why would he be ringing the bell? Inquisitiveness draws up to your shoulders as you dry your hands, taking light steps to the door and opening it after unlocking.

You leave a small opening to peak through, “Y-Yes?”

“Is that the lovely Y/n I’m seeing~?”

That voice…Not Geto’s, but familiarity sparks up, and recognition prompts you to open the door wider.

Pure snowy white hair is the first thing that captures your attention, along with the dark shades concealing its owners’ eyes—a signature look of your partner’s friend, “Sa–Satoru?”

“Aye, you remembered to call me by my first name that time!” The named man was dressed down in his work attire, his hand holding his black blazer while he brought his sunglasses up for his azure eyes to throw a wink at you. “It’s been a while, huh?”

“It has!” Your perplexity was evident in your tone; you had forgotten just how tall the man was. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was finally able to catch your boy-toy here before ditching me at work,” Gojo brings your boyfriend into view with the tug of his collar, the raven-haired man expressing nothing but total irritation. “Dude owes me dinner, and I heard someone is cooking a nice meal tonight! Have room for another person?”

“Who said you were invited?” Geto questions his best friend after getting out of his hold.

“I did!” The white-haired man answers. “You owe me for saving your ass yesterday with that file scare—you’re welcome, by the way,” he ignores the glare of his friend. “And just be glad I’m asking for a home-cooked meal, or else I’d be draining your pockets at that new steak place that opened up recently.”

“Unbelievable…” Geto sighs exasperately. “Hurry up and get in.”

You move out of the way so the men can enter your abode. “Excuse my intrusion~,” the blue-eyed man says as he takes off his dress shoes in the foyer and happily walks to the living room.

Your boyfriend shakes his head, “Sorry ‘bout this, baby.”

“It’s okay; I was done washing dishes anyway.”

“Mmm,” he brings you in for a hug, part of the routine when he returns home. “How’re you feeling now?”

Your heart skips a beat. “I feel…okay, still sore, but, you know…” He smelt so good, his cologne pleasantly sinking you in.

“Heh, sorry,” he kisses your temple. “I had a good time; you really spoiled me.”

The heat in your cheeks ventures to your ears and nape, and your heart returns to racing at an irregular dance. The memories of last night all come back to haunt you once more; images of you being bent into different positions and crying out for Geto hit you one after the other. The lewd thoughts are too much for your pretty little head, especially when you imagine the tall, dark-headed man all sweaty and panting above you with a grin on his face like last night.

At this point, your face will need an ice pack because it’s getting hot. “I’m..really glad you liked it.”

“Loved it,” he takes your hand and after removing his shoes. “Can’t wait to try it again next time.”

And with those last two words, the world suddenly fell to a standstill. You didn’t hear what you just heard—no, you didn’t. “N-Next time?” You repeat.

“Of course!” he leads you down the hall to the open space. What, you thought you’d spend all that money on me for just one night?” No, I HOPED so! “Besides, I was looking online during my break at work, and I saw this fox variant look that I think would look real good on you—”

You couldn’t believe your ears; not only did Mei Mei prove you wrong, but now you have to deal with your boyfriend’s interest in wanting to indulge more in this idea you’ve brought into the relationship. What you thought and hoped would be for one night is now bound to haunt you for many days to come, and that thought in itself had you shaking in your slippers.

As well as the fact that you now owe your best friend cash for jinxing this situation. Damn her!

“Yo, Suguru.”

You perk up when you hear Gojo’s voice as you two enter the kitchen area. And just when you thought this world couldn’t chew and spit you out enough, the image of the white-haired man standing beside the kitchen island holding something in his hand mortifies you to the core.

“What’s with the bunny ear headband? I thought Easter went and passed already.”

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motomamita · 7 months ago

Text

bestfriend!könig × female!reader

warnings: +18, smut, emotional manipulation, sex!

imagine being the only person who showed up to könig's birthday party.

it was just you and him, in his house, with a lot of drinks and food that he himself had bought to celebrate. the sound of the clock on the ceiling seemed to stun you and he remained dejected, with a half-drunk can of beer.

you knew that könig had invited more people, people who had pretended to be his friends throughout the semester to humiliate him on such an important day for him. you could see on his face how much he regretted having trusted them, and at the same time how grateful he was that at least you, his best friend, had shown up.

"come on kö, don't feel bad. we can have fun just the same, just us!"

apparently you were naive enough not to notice how weird könig was in general. he hardly talked to anyone, and when he did, he would make comments that were out of place and a bit offensive to others. but you couldn't blame him no matter how hard you tried and ignored your friends' warnings about him.

"what a shitty birthday.."

he murmured as you lit the candles on his birthday cake that you had baked especially for him.

"don't say that, come on, make a wish."

you moved his cake closer to him, letting the candlelight illuminate his masculine, scarred face and cold gaze.

"i don't think my wish will ever come true."

"what? tell me, maybe i can help you!"

upon hearing you, könig did not hesitate to tell you: he wanted to lose his damn virginity with you.

you hesitated for a few seconds, not sure what you had just heard. his eyes filled with tears that he didn’t try to hide and he looked into your eyes begging you to help him make his wish come true. what else could you do? his day was already disappointing enough without you leaving him alone with a huge erection in his pants. you had to help him.

in a matter of seconds you were lying on the table, your skirt pulled up to your waist and könig on top of you fucking you clumsily. his cock entered you roughly and without rhythm, in a very inexperienced way. some strands of his hair fell on your face and his eyes never stopped looking at you.

"you're the best friend any man could wish to have... your pussy feels so good."

könig clumsily grabbed your breasts over your clothes and pinched your nipples. you moaned in pain but didn't try to run away or push him away, you wanted his birthday to end well.

it only took a couple of deep, slow thrusts for könig to end up inside you, moaning your name and kissing your mouth and face. you hugged him by the shoulders, pulling him towards you and letting him sob with pleasure on your neck.

"this is the best birthday of my entire life."

#könig cod #könig call of duty #könig smut #konig call of duty #könig x reader #könig #könig mw2 #konig smut #konig fanfiction #konig x reader #cod smut #cod x reader #konig cod #bestfriend!könig #bestfriend!konig #bf!konig #bf!könig

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awordsmith · 4 months ago

Text

paint a picture 𝜗𝜚 s.r

۶ৎ in which you and Spencer go separate ways after university until a deadly case forces you to find your way back to each other.

katvalentine

who? spencer reid x known!reader when? s8 genre: angst (thriller) content warnings: mentions of attempted murder and the loss of a friend, second chance romance, read with scary care!! word count: 9k a/n: not how i planned to write this out–but i couldn't be happier–also i know i'm super late with the valentines themes–studying for midterms has taken toll–but i think i'm going to ace every exam with soaring colors, so plus(?)–okay let me stop rambling... enjoy!!

Your Converse hit the pavement as you ignored the bustling of the other students that sounded around you. In contrast to everyone else, you were running toward the rain rather than hiding from it. You didn’t have a choice–it was either that or failing your psychology class.

It wasn’t as if you were completely behind, you’d attended every class–and you’d taken notes…mostly. Okay, barely–but with all your other courses, trying to maintain your part-time job on weekends, and constantly visiting the UNEP for Aspiring Young Center, Psychology had been the least of your worries. You had barely had any time to sleep–let alone to yourself.

The class was only once a week and though it was online–it’d been the class you’d seemed to forget most about. You’d gotten your hands on some of the notes from other students, but they all seemed useless when the midterm exam was next week. You had no time to study–that was what had you so freaked.

It had slipped your mind–somehow–that it was going to be half your grade. In the sight of other courses: sociology, criminology, comm, English, and history, you’d completely forgotten about one of the most important classes you were taking this semester. Gosh, why couldn’t it just be summer already? More than that, why did you have to take on so many classes? Sure you wanted to graduate early, but you were in your sophomore year, you should have been enjoying it.

Instead, you were getting soaked in rainwater in an attempt to leave a good impression on your new tutor. You were running late, as per usual. It had been a bad habit you’d picked up your freshman year when you realized parking wasn’t as easy as you’d thought it would be. You were normally late to classes, always running down one hall or the next. The university’s library was like a second home to you. You could generally be found in one of the desks near the elevator most nights. You preferred the tables behind the elevators the best. Preferably one closest to the corner.

Each table had two desks connected and two seats for each desk. You kept your backpack in the seat next to you and did well for warding off creeps mindlessly sitting down. The tables in the corners also proved well for when your headphones died. They were just far enough away that you couldn’t hear the elevator's constant dinging. The limited space also kept a multitude of people walking back and forth between the tables; yeah, sure you probably just got annoyed quickly, but you couldn’t help how you were. You were how you were and you liked it.

“Excuse me,” you squeaked, nearly colliding with a girl coming through the double doors with an umbrella. You huffed and removed the hood of your jacket, trying to smooth down your hair. It was pulled back into a ponytail, but hairs were now sticking up–you could feel it. You removed the hair tie and slipped it onto your hand, running your hands through your semi-wet locks.

You wanted to use the bathroom first, but you didn’t want to leave the poor guy hanging, it was Valentines' Day, after all, he probably took on this job in pity and had some hot girlfriend angry at him because of it. You felt bad–genuinely, it had your heart aching. Though you had no interest in dating yourself, you could wager the benefits it brought many others.

You ignored the elevator and headed up the stairs, when you reached the top you were out of breath. You hated staircases in high school and you hated them now. Picking back up some of your dignity, you glanced around the area, trying to scope out the tutor you were meeting.

He had great reviews, and apparently, he already had 1 PhD and was working on his second. He was young, around your age, and you wondered if he was a genius, that was the only likely explanation. Or maybe he really was just that good Well, you’d see for yourself in a few minutes. You caught sight of wild brown curls and a large brown and orange sweater vest.

He was sitting at the very end of the row, you recognized the large window panes that sat to the side of each table. You smiled slightly, it was just how you preferred it a quiet study night. You hadn’t mentioned anything about liking the ends, it was entirely possible he liked it that way too, where most of the noise disappeared, and the world along with it.

As you approached the kid, you thought this surely couldn’t be him. He looked…well…smaller. The photo online was just his face, but as you rounded the table, your nose scrunched up.

Sure, people took off their glasses for a multitude of reasons, including taking a photo, but you never thought it could make such a difference to a person's appearance. “...Dr. Ried?” You stuttered out, setting your tote bag in the seat next to you.

When Spencer looked up, he had to fix his glasses. He wasn’t good at keeping eye contact, so he focussed on the necklace around your neck, “uh, yeah, —?”

You smiled and nodded, sighing out as you sat in the seat across from him, “It is you–sorry I’m late, I was–” you were in the middle of your living room in your underwear having a mini concert with the tv and your hairbrush, but you said, “working on a few theories, you know how you can get lost in your head sometimes.”

Spencer brightened slightly, his mind racing with the different things he wanted to say, theories were one of his favorite topics, he could go on and on, talking about his favorite and his least favorite, ones that had a high chance of being debunked in the future and ones that have already been debunked, but he forced his mouth closed before he said any of that. “Yeah, theories are fun,” it hurt him–physically–not to say more. But, Spencer was trying out his professionalism, and a professional would not geek out over the mention of theories.

You nodded and started pulling your notebook out of your bag, Spencer had a psycho-analysis textbook out in front of him as he had said he would in his text. “Let’s start with chapter 45, that’s the first one that’s going to pop up on the test.” Spencer stated, watching your hands flip through page after page, “That’s a lot of notes.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, trying to subtly fan yourself, dim lighting from lamps under every table gave the small area a glow, “sorry,” you began pulling out a few writing utensils, “I know this is so last minute and you probably had plans tonight, but I really appreciate you doing this for me.” You tried meeting his eyes, but he seemed to want to keep his distance from you, which struck you as odd seeing as how there wasn’t much of an age gap.

“No, don’t worry–” he waved his hands in front of him, his eyes having an almost paranoid feeling to them, “I,” he looked away, “I didn’t have any plans tonight. You’re fine, so don’t worry,” he let his hands fall into his lap.

Your eyes widened slightly and a subtle realization came over you that this guy wasn’t small–he was slumping in his seat, which is why he looked to be small at first glance. His posture was all wrong and it ticked you a little. One of your eyes twitched, but you hummed to calm yourself down. It didn’t really bother you, but the way he was acting–you just couldn’t help it.

“Alright,” you smoothed out the page and flipped it around to show Dr. Reid.

Spencer ran his eyes along the page, there sure were a lot of dashes and marks, he admired your penmanship for a moment before turning and meeting your gaze for the first time, “a lot of notes, yes, but most of them are useless.” He winced. He didn’t mean to say it like that, he probably should have used another word–useless just felt so…gray. “I mean, that’s not what I mean, I just meant that–” he huffed and ran a hand through his shaggy hair taking his glasses off momentarily to rub his eyes.

His features weren’t lost on you. His jaw was sharp, his neck thick, he could be a male model if he wanted to, he had the build for it. He was skinny and he was awkward in his skin, but with the right training, his self-confidence could be raised immensely. Spencer blinked, noting your stare and suddenly he felt nervous again. It wasn’t that you intimidated him–though with the way he was acting, it probably didn’t seem that way.

You were more than pretty, you stood out. Maybe not to everyone, but Spencer had learned long ago that beauty was in the eye of the beholder, and to Spencer, you were. You looked like you belonged in a Renaissance painting or behind the glass at a thrift store, something not for sale; something priceless. Something you see once in a museum and go home thinking about, never to see it again, but can’t help remembering years later.

Spencer cleared his throat, understanding, he too was now staring. “Right, so–chapter forty-five, what, what do you remember most about it?”

You glanced at your notes, running a finger along a highlighted part, “Proximity, the mere exposure effect, basically anything to do with how we feel about another person.”

Spencer nodded and ran his eyes over your notes. It wasn’t highlighted, but he thought it should be. “See here,” he flipped the notebook back around, “this isn’t highlighted, but this is,” he pointed to another point, “can you tell me why?”

You looked over the two bullet points, an embarrassed smile washing over you. You everted your eyes toward the floor and scratched one of your cheeks with a finger, “I liked how it read.”

Spencer felt his heart flutter and his cheeks flush red at the admission, it was cute. It was more than cute it was adorable. But that was completely unprofessional, even if this was just a side job he’d taken on because he needed some quick cash. “Well, I suggest making another set of notes, I can do it for you if you’d like.”

You nodded and Spencer felt the need to ask another–rather important–question, “Do you normally read over your notes once you write them?”

You made a face, your lips pressed together to suppress a smile. The truth was you did but with psychology…. “I normally do during study sessions, it helps because I’m really bad at remembering things,” you played with a tiny lock of wet hair, murmuring, “and I’m always late.”

Spencer snorted but tried covering it up with a cough. Your lips quirked upward and your eyes narrowed slightly. He, in turn, did his best to avoid your gaze. “Wow,” you nodded, “so that’s how it is.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, “I didn’t,” he didn’t mean to be rude, this wasn’t how he normally acted, especially around girls. If anything, he’d always had a mutual understanding with the opposite sex, he would not reach for something he could not see, but you–you seemed… vivid…

“I’m just messing with you, Spencer–” you gasped internally and paused externally. You didn’t mean to address him by that name. Not only was it probably rude, but now he probably thought you did it on purpose or something–ughhh, this blows! And I was starting to like him, if he goes all Mr. Superior on me I should get permission to smack some sense into him. After all, he isn’t that much older–is he?

Spencer was confused as to why you were giving him the death glare. He had thought you and himself were getting along just fine–up until you used his first name at least. He wasn’t one of your professors and even if he were, some professors were alright with first name basis–Spencer had never taught a class before, sure he’d sat in on a few, but he was never a guest speaker, of course, that was definitely something he sought to change that after publishing a few more of his essays and articles, he was ambitious, as one with his skill was.

In any case, Spencer didn’t find it weird, but perhaps you did, and because he had laughed at something you’d said earlier, you were expecting him to laugh at you now. Spencer could explain the typical functions of why the corners of his mouth quirked upward. He could give a basic rundown of how muscles worked, it was settled in the back of his mind, ready to be spouted–but what he couldn’t tell you was why he couldn’t control it.

For normal people, he would bring in the psychology of the matter, chapter forty-five–ironically. Something one person said made the other person laugh, but that idea wouldn’t work in this situation. No, because you hadn’t said anything particularly funny. Then why else did people smile? In simpler terms, because they were happy, but why was Spencer happy? He didn’t know, he just didn’t know. He was staring at you and your childish glare and he could not figure out for the life of him why in the hell he was so damn happy.

“I see that,” your eyes holding a mischievous glint, leaning forward and jabbing a finger in his face. He looked shocked like he had no idea what was going on, “fine,” you deflated back into your chair, “if you want to laugh, get it over with,” a few seconds later, a few coughs came from Spencer, you stuck your tongue out at him, it was quick and unexpected, but it made you smile. What would you consider this then? You thought, reward theory of attraction? But I haven’t been rewarded with anything…

Spencer scoffed at the idiotic notion, that he shouldn’t be sitting here analyzing you simply because you made him smile–simply because he made you smile. He was your tutor and that was it. That should’ve been it, but as the night went on, the further your personalities complimented each other. You both knew it–it was the psychology of it all; ironic how it was the exact chapter you’d gone over first.

And as the evening faded into midnight, you both found your souls intertwining with the other. Unable to control it; unwilling to want to.

Cold wind blew through the loose fragments of your hair as you leaned on your arms against the open window on the trolley, the sun hitting your face just right. It made you sleepy, you wanted to sleep, but you couldn’t. In a few moments, you’d be pulling the line and getting off. You yawned are rubbed your eyes, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. It was midday, you were meeting your friend for lunch, and your tote bag sat in the seat next to you.

“It’s so cute, thank you!” You gushed.

“Yeah, I–I saw you eyeing it that day we went to the mall,” Spencer ran a nervous hand through his hair.

Your face didn’t have enough room for the grin spreading across your face, “thank you, Spencer, this really is the best birthday ever.”

He shrugged all nonchalantly, but you could see it in his eyes, it warmed your heart to know how special you were to him, “it was nothing.”

“To you,” you reached for his hand across the table, “but it’s everything to me,” you paused, unable to decide which eye to focus on, you kept flitting back and forth between both of them and eventually the silence grew. You snatched your hands back, feeling nervousness flutter throughout your body. You averted your eyes and smiled at the ground, “Thank you…I love it.”

A smile now overtook your face, you wondered where he was now. You hoped he was doing alright, you’d seen him on television before, on the news. He was living the dream he’d told you about when you were still in university. He’d become exactly what he’d wanted, he’d done it. You were proud of him. You always had been.

The trolley slowed down, you recognized this turn. With a sigh, you sat upward and pulled your bag over your shoulder, waiting for the drop-off to appear. When it came into view, you tugged at the tight string above you, getting ready to stand. The trolley wasn’t packed, which was normal for after lunch hours. The next rush would be around five, so as long as you left before or after–you wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire.

A few others stood with you when the trolley came to a complete stop. The group filed off the cart in a line and when your sneakers met concrete, you took off down the sidewalk, heading for the café you typically met your friend at. You pulled your phone out and checked the time when a new message came through. You smiled as you came to the same crosswalk you always did. Behind you, couple turned on the right corner with their dog and a mother and daughter stood at the other end of the crosswalk. The February breeze blew calmly around you, and the daylight seemed to dim slightly as you waited near the pole.

Eventually, the lights switched and the sign across from you brightened. You held onto your bag as you moved, you weren’t wearing a sweater–before leaving the house, you’d decided your white long sleeve would do just fine–you were severely regretting that decision as the wind picked up. You don’t know why it was so cold, Spring was nearly here–at least it should have been.

The little girl skipped past you, her pigtails swaying to and fro. You admired the scene, wishing you could photograph it. Your job typically had you photographing crime scenes, it would have been a nice addition to the mini gallery you’d started in your home. It was one just for you, warmer than your day to day work. You’d majored in film and photography and minored in criminology, of course, your passion for both came from starkly different backgrounds, but they complimented eachother when it came to your job–your real job.

You didn’t talk much about your work, but you took to writing a few papers, only two had been published so far, and you’d received a letter last week, asking you to speak in a criminology-based class because of them–you weren’t doing too bad in the money department, but–you came up to the café–you still could not drive.

It was a minor thing, but it held you back instrumentally. You narrowed your eyes at the thoughts plaguing your mind, how idiotic–your friend would tease you in her own way, you shook your head and smiled, whatever, you thought. You held out a hand to push one of the doors open, but paused. You swear someone had called your name–you’e head swivled and–was that–a crash sounded throughout your head and some external force sent you flying backward.

As soon as Spencer walked through the doors of the BAU, he was snatched away by Hotch, everyone was on the jet already. Of course, it had to be the one time he’d thought he could let himself be a little late.

“Do we know what it is?’ Spencer asked, taking the file Emily held out into his palms.

“We don’t want to jump the gun and say a terrorist attack–”

“But that’s what it looks like,” Dereck nodded as Spencer’s eyes roved over the report, “what’s this?” He questioned, taking a closer look at the singular photo in the back.

“It’s a photo from the CCTV camera of the café that was hit–”

“The woman in the photo looks to be around early to mid 20’s” Emily stated, “we don’t know how badly she was injured or much of anything else.”

Spencer ran a finger along the woman's frame. “The first responding officers will tell us everything they remember when we land; JJ, Rossi head to the hospital and check on our possibly only survivor, see if you can get her statement, Morgan, Reid, you go to the crime scene, see what you can figure out, Prentis, you’re with me at the station–and Penelope?”

“Yes, Sir?” Garcia’s meek voice rang through the speakers of the large flatscreen plante on the wall in front of them, her face could be seen: she was huddled up in a blanket, but her makeup was as fresh as always.

“See if you can access the CCTV inside the café before the blast and others around the shop.”

She nodded, “I will call you as soon as I come up with something.” She clicked a button and the line went dead. Spencer’s heart was racing. Terrorist attacks were not common–if they occurred they would typicically mean something–terrroriste were likely to attack bigger buildings with a lot of power, the white house, for instance, and the Twin Towers were a good example of this, not just because of the towers. bin Laden weaponized Flight 11 because it was an American Airlines plane–it was a message, a symbol.

But this…this was a small family-owned café in a small shopping center, there was a bank just a few buildings over, why not target that? It just didn’t make any sense in Spencer’s mind. The woman in the photo–he hoped she was doing better than he thought she was–he couldn’t place it, but something about her felt…familiar.

He sighed and set the photo down, shutting the yellow folder.

You sat forward, pain slicing through your head like a blade. You groaned and raised a hand to your temple, only to find IVs connected to your skin. “What the hell happened?” They were freaky and they sent a shiver up your spine. You pulled each IV out steadily, there were three.

You watched them, waiting for one to begin bleeding, but none of them did, and a sigh of relief escaped your throat. You glanced around the room after rubbing your eyes, trying to figure out where you were.

“The hell…” You murmured, pushing yourself off the bed, okay, you were in a hospital? What else? There was a silver tray beside your bed, and a glass of water next to it. It looked like it had been sitting there for a while, though and you made a face.

You hated hospital food, it made you gag. You steadied yourself with the bed railing, You balanced your weight and walked to the door, taking one last look around the room before pulling the it open and stumbling forward.

Nurses noticed you immediately and rushed to your side. As they attempted to coax you back into the room, you couldn’t help but look up, the awkward fluorescent lights had you heaving, you felt sick in all the wrong ways. A nurse held up a medical-grade puke bag just in time.

“Ugh,” you wiped your mouth, reaching for the wall, that’s disgusting. Suddenly, your lips felt too big for you face–you tasted metal–you didn’t dare touch it. You turned to walk back into the room–that’s when you noticed the two guys in all black standing at each end of the hall. They looked like guards. You were weary, but you’d notice that earpiece anywhere. They were CIA officers. What were was your job doing here?

More importantly, what the hell happened? The last thing you remembered– “AH–” another sharp pain shot through your head and you sat back down, “someone,” you breathed, allowing the nurses to help you back into bed, “someone tell me–”

“–you need to rest now,” one of the nurses–the one with the most authority, you assumed–voiced.

“No, someone needs to tell me what the fuck is going on–” you sat back up and pushed her away, feeling blood rush to your head, “why is the CIA here–”

“Case Officer — —?” You glanced up, a blonde woman stepped through the door, her hair pulled into a neat, slick-back ponytail.

“Who are you?” You narrowed your eyes.

“My name is Jennifer Jareau, I’m with the Federal Beuro of Investigation–this is my partner SSA David Rossi–”

“FBI?” You raised a brow, “God,” you held your head, grimacing, “what happened?” You tried processing what you could remember, but you couldn’t. It was in your brain somewhere, you felt it–it just wasn’t popping up in any of the search engines you typically used. You huffed, giving up for the time being.

“Can you tell me…what you remember–”

“Nothing,” you shook your head, almost angry, “I can’t remember anything,” you scoffed and held your head in your both hands, covering your eyes. You wanted to sob, but were too embarrassed to do so.

“Alright, that’s alright,” Jennifer nodded.

But it wasn’t alright and you wanted to tell her so, but her partner, Rossi or whatever, cut in, “—... do you remember anything from before the blast?”

“Before the?” Your eyebrows scrunched together, but you paused. “That’s right,” you nodded, feeling a faint memory ghost over you, “there was a–there was a dog–” you said, though you weren’t sure why. “It was a little girl. A dog with a little girl–you were so sure of it, but something still felt off, you bit your cheek and shook your head, letting out an exasperated groan, “No–I don’t know.”

“It’s alright, I understand this can be frustrating. You were in a bad accident, there was a bomb, and you were caught in it. You hit your head pretty bad–”

“Pretty bad?” You scoffed, “You call this ‘pretty bad’? I can’t remember what I ate for breakfast or what song I listened to in the shower this morning–and this is ‘pretty bad’?” Jennifer turned her head, a frown taking up residence on her face. This was crazy–you needed to call your friend. She’d make you feel ten times better, “I need a phone, I need to call —.”

You tried standing, but Jennifer stopped you, “Here, use mine.” She slipped it out of her pocket and toward you.

You watched it for a second before taking it, still asking, “Where’s my phone?”

As you dialed —’s number, Jennifer said, “It should be with your things, I’ll check with the nursing staff.”

You held the phone up to your ear as she left the room, catching her partner's eye. You frowned when the line went to voicemail and called again, maybe her phone was dead? Maybe she had it on ‘do not disturb’? “No answer?”

You shook your head, and sighed, “voicemail.”

“What’s —’s last name, I’ll try to find her for you.”

“—,” you shook your head, calling back again, “it just doesn’t make any sense why she wouldn’t be answering, she was–” you paused, you don’t know why you said that.

Rossi raised a brow, “She was what?’

You frowned, “I don’t know,” a scowl replaced your frown, “what’s new?”

“Hey, don’t get discouraged.” Is what he said, but Rossi had a bad feeling about this whole thing. He typically kept his hard opinions to himself, especially ones that began with, “This is going to suck, but…”, and yet that’s what he was feeling now. That this was going to really suck.

“So we’ve ruled out a terrorist attack, there’ve been no phone calls, no letters, no demands. What else could this be?”

“A one-off?”

Spencer glanced around the room as Hotch and Morgan listed off ideas. JJ and Rossi had come back from seeing the survivor, they’d said it was strange, that almost the entirety of her memory concerning the blast was gone. As if it’d never happened in the first place, but that was to be expected considering the blow she’d taken to the head.

She was just lucky people saw her in the street before she was run over. The bomb had been so strong, that she’d ended up in the middle of the street, Spencer couldn’t watch the video after the first time, it had just looked so painful, and that was the eery part. She was missing parts of her memory, but she had no broken bones, the most damage she’d taken was psychological.

Her blood was fine, she had a few scratches on her arms and forehead, and her lip was pretty busted, but other than that, she was–again–perfectly fine. Which kept tugging at something in Spencer. “Was she able to remember anything? Anything at all?” Spencer heard himself asking, his arms uncrossing.

JJ shook her head, “No, nothing. She said she couldn’t even remember what she’d eaten for breakfast this morning.”

“No, but…” Rossi paused, folding his arms, Hotch and the rest of the team glanced in his direction, “She did…she did ask about a friend.”

“Yeah, she didn’t pick up any of the calls, though,” JJ waved her phone in the air and set it on the table in front of her.

“Yeah, but she also said something about her that seemed,” he shook head and waved an arm sound, “recent…”

“I don’t remember that.” JJ frowned.

“You were gone, talking to the nurses.”

“What did she say?” Hotch raised a brow, his voice growing colder by the hour.

“She said, ‘It doesn’t make any sense why she wouldn’t answer the phone, she was…’” The team waited for him to finish, but he huffed instead, “That’s it, she couldn’t remember the rest.” Spencer blew our air, rolling his neck back and forth as he thought of what the woman, — might have wanted to say.

“—...” Spencer mumbled. He recalled a time when he knew someone with that same name, he wondered where she was now. Probably married to some handsome bodybuilder who could crush Spencer with two fingers.

He puffed out his cheeks, he didn’t know why he always seemed to think about her in times like this; he looked out the window, allowing the moon to mesmerize his mind. He wanted to run far, far away. Always on midnights like this.

Spencer leaned back against the wall behind him and closed his eyes, trying to picture himself in her point of view. He was walking toward the shop–she wasn’t on her phone and she didn't have a map, nor was she looking around, so she probably knew the area well. Okay, so he knew he was going to this café, he was…he was…meeting someone.

Spencer peddled back to when JJ had mentioned the little girl and the dog. He tried to place them together somewhere in the picture he’d created for himself. Was she distracted by it? She did turn her head as if someone had called out for her.

“What do you go for us Garcia?”

Spencer’s eyes popped open and he glanced at the laptop in front of Hotch, “oh, not much,” she shook her head, “but I was able to get footage of the surrounding area, and check this out,” she clicked some button and CCTV footage came up on the screen. The quality wasn’t great–it probably hand’t been replaced in a quite a while.

The team gathered around Hotch, watching and analyzing the film. There. Spencer recognized her immediately, but not as a victim on this case. His stomach dropped and he thought he might throw up.

“There’s our victim, but look, look at the relaxed way she’s acting.” Hotch analyzed.

“So…what?”

“It’s normal to her, she’s not worried, she’s not being pressured, I think she meeting someone at that café,” Spencer stated, rubbing the nape of his neck, “other than the footage, Rossi’s quote– “it doesn’t make any sense because she was–” end quote, could she have been about to say, ‘waiting for me?’ or ‘inside?’.

Rossi closed his eyes as Hotch gave the order to speed up the process of figuring out the identities of all the casualties caught in the blast and cross-check them with your friend's name. “Wait Sir, there’s one more thing I think you should know.”

“What is it, Garcia?”

“Okay, you know how we debunked the theory that this was a terrorist attack?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

Spencer held his breath, wondering what idea Garcia was about to plant into their heads. “Well, if we go back to the original footage we recovered in the beginning, we can say for sure —’s attention was pulled away from opening those doors. It was the millisecond that saved her life. Why did she look away, what caught her attention? Sir, I’m not an agent and I haven’t taken the classes you all have, but if that was me, I would say someone called her name.”

“Someone purposefully kept her from walking in?” Hotch rubbed his temple, eyes narrowing.

“This wasn’t an attack on the government,” Hotch shook his head, glancing at his team.

And it clicked for Spencer, “someone targeted —, but not because she works for the CIA–it was personal.”

“We need to figure out who it was — saw in that video.”

Spencer grimaced, he didn’t want to go to the hospital. Not yet. He had a job to do and he knew going to that hospital would just complicate things for him. He kept the fact that he knew the victim to himself. But she wasn’t just a victim–he detested thinking of her that manner–but if he wanted to catch the son of a bitch who did this to her, he’d have to stay away for just a bit longer.

“Thank you,” you smiled at the flowers, “it was really sweet of you to come all the way down here.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” —’s lisp sounded throughout the room, but you ignored it. He was sweet–you’d only met him a few times when working cases together, but he was the nicest person you’d ever met. Everyone loved him and no one made fun of his speech impediment. You were glad because you’d probably bite their heads off for it.

“Have you heard anything?” — frowned and shook his head, “No, I haven’t. I’m really sorry. I mean, this is just crazy.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed, folding your hands in your lap, “tell me about it.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have…” he shook his head.

“No, no, you’re fine.” You smiled again, “I just…I just hope she’s alright. There must be some news?” You looked over — as if that blonde woman, Jennifer, might pop up. She didn’t.

“I promise, as soon as I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know.” He smiled, fixing his glasses that didn’t quite sit right on his face.

Your heart swelled, you were so grateful. You weren’t on speaking terms with your parents, you hadn’t seen your cousins since your grandmother’s funeral, and — was the only friend you had unless you counted your team, but you weren’t really close with them either. You preferred to keep to yourself. It was hard for you to get close to anyone after him because in the back of your mind was always that question, that what if?

“Do you want some coffee? Some water? I can go ask the nurse…”

“Yes, please,” you nodded, “that, that would be nice.”

— left the room and you were once again left in the comfort of your silence. Your mind drifted to Spencer. It hadn’t clicked when Jennifer had first introduced herself. She’d been back only once more to see if you’d remembered anything, you hadn’t, of course. No more than the little girl and the dog. — had just arrived this morning, so Jennifer missed him, but he wouldn’t have been able to provide much information anyway, he maybe could’ve helped with figuring out the bomb equipment and things like that, he worked in the EOD, but all of that slipped your mind as you called up almost every memory you had with Spencer.

When you were alone earlier today after Jennifer had left and before — had arrived, you’d pulled out your phone and went through the screenshots you’d taken of some of the cases Spencer had been on, and sure enough–there he was standing next to Ms. Jennifer Jareau. They worked together, which meant Spencer was likely also working on this case–your case.

You shivered–hating the thought that you now had a case, that you were now considered a victim in some people’s eyes. You were the one photographing other victims–how could you have become one yourself? You closed your eyes and leaned back into the hospital bed, for what it was worth–they had comfortable beds–they could upgrade their blankets though. You smiled, thinking about the time Spencer had hurt his leg ans had to stay in this dreaded place for a few nights. The two of you shared your weariness of hospitals, he’d probably complain about the food and the lack of warmthness the blankets provided.

Though he was no doubt working , you hadn’t seen him, and Jennifer hadn’t said anything about it. You wondered if she even knew–if he’d told any of his team members about you. It stung you knowing the likelihood of it was low.

There was no way he didn’t recognize you. At least, that’s what you hoped, but he had to, right? After all, you’d been through, granted that all happened years ago–but still–he was everything. You had to mean something….right? You couldn’t just have been an experience, you had to be more than a memory. You just had to.

But he hadn’t been to visit you. And that hurt you the most. It floated around in you mind even as — walked back into the room and flashed you a tooth-gapped smile.

“You okay?” He asked, standing near your bed–near this morning’s silver tray that still hadn’t been touched.

“Yeah,” you reached for the cup of water, “just fine, thanks.”

“Reid,” Spencer bounced his right leg up and down and tapped the fingers of his left hand on the table in front of him, “Reid,” he wondered how you were doing, he’d just sifted through your text messages. He felt dirty. He didn’t have any right to read your private thoughts or those of the people you shared them with. He scolded himself, it wasn’t like he’d read your diary or anything. “Dammit, Reid!” Hotch huffed. Spencer glanced upward, stopping his tapping and leg shaking, “I need you to focus, what–what’s on your mind. Do you need to talk, it is your mom?”

Spencer tried acting unbothered and shook his head, sighing, “No, I’m fine.” He covered his mouth with a hand, feeling his throat run dry. You didn’t like hospitals, you never had, he remembered it starkly, and yet you still visited him every day when he’d injured his leg. That was years ago, but man–he chuckled–it felt like yesterday. Anytime he thought about you he felt young again. He didn’t know what it was–perhaps that was just what you represented, Spencer’s youth.

No, he shook his head, it was more than that. He sighed and ran another hand along the documents, and I threw it all away. An eyebrow shot up and Spencer’s eyes darted over a text message in particular. He picked it up and stood. “What?” Hotch met him at the board as he tacked it on and stood back, “what do you see?”

Spencer held back a scoff, “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before,” probably because he wasn’t in the right headspace, “look at this, she says, ‘it was nice meeting you today, thank you again for your help.’ He sends an entire paragraph. This was only a few months ago.”

“So,” Hotch shrugged and shook his head, waiting for an explanation, though a few ideas popped into his own head. Spencer waved his hand and walked back over to the pile of text messages blown up on printer paper, “Look at these, ‘it was nice working with you again, you’re really close with —,’ she says, ‘yeah, it was, and yeah! she’s my best friend,’ he tacked it on the board, this one says, ‘Sorry for your loss, I heard about your grandmother.’

“Get to the point Reid,” Hotch frowned, grouchy as always, Spencer thought.

“These are all by the same person, and I’m pretty sure there are multiple like these–but the thing is, all of his messages are long, like paragraph-length, and all of hers are single-sentence responses.” He shook his head, “after her initial message, she only responds, and they’re always short. And the way they sound–it’s so…I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t notice it because that’s just how she is,” Spencer bit his lip–ignoring the painful squeeze in his heart– “It’s not her fault, but I think he’s reading into everything. I mean, Hotch–just look at some of the things he’s saying in these messages–” Spencer went back to the table and pulled out more from the same contact.

He looked back at Hotch, waiting for his nod of approval, and finally, Hotch gave it to him, along with a, “Have Garcia run a background check on this person. Whoever he is, he’s worth questioning. I’ll call Morgan when we have an ID.” Spencer nodded and got to dialing Garcia’s number right as he grabbed his jacket. It was time. He needed to see you.

It was getting later, afternoon turned into evening in the blink of an eye. But you supposed that was to be expected, February had become March, and you were only here for a few days, yes–but it felt like an eternity. Some of the memories were coming back to you, you recalled being in front of the crosswalk, the little girl was with her mother on the other side, not with a puppy. The dog you’d mentioned to Agent Jereau had been behind you, a couple were the ones walking it.

There was still no news, about —, the waiting had slowly begun to agitate you. Jennifer hadn’t come back, but — was still here, you frowned as you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, “You know, you don’t have to stay here all night, you must have work tomorrow. They're not gonna let you off easy if you’re late, you know.”

— shook his head, throwing you a smile, “I’ll be fine, have any of your memories from The Incident come back?” — called it “The Incident” rather than the bombing or the blast, which you found odd at first, excused it as him being considerate. “That…” he lowered his gaze, “I’m sorry,” he shook his head.

You snorted a bit, “why, it’s not your fault.”

He frowned, looking dead serious for a second. It unnerved you, but then he looked away and an innocent smile took over his features again, “I know, I just feel bad.”

“Well, don’t,” you shook your head, thinking to reach out and touch his arm, but shivers flew up your spine and suddenly you were wondering if there were nurses near your room, and if so, how many? It had been silent for a while, no more bustling back and forth. You frowned at your thoughts, this was crazy. — wasn’t hurting you, if anything, he was trying to be nice. He was the only one to come to the hospital when there was still so much work to be done. — must’ve been busy because you hadn’t worked with him in a while, yet he was still taking time out of his busy schedule to see if you were alright. That was more than you could say for someone. Spencer hadn’t even come to see if you were alright, you knew a few years had passed since the last time you had spoken, but still–couldn’t he just check up on you once? Wasn’t he at all worried or curious as to how you were doing?

The rest of his team had been to see you at some point within the week, though none of them mentioned him. You hadn’t wanted to ask because you’d thought it would be awkward and it was his private life, what right did you have? So, you had left it alone. Now, though you blew out air and asked, “Hey, —?”

“Yeah?” He looked at you expectantly, it scared you. You couldn’t place the reason as to why–but his eyes, there was something…less about them. You wanted to jump out of your own skin and run away–your mouth dropped. You remembered. You remembered why you didn’t walk into the café. But it couldn’t be. You must have your thoughts confused and–no you didn’t You knew exactly what you heard and saw.

You avoided his eyes and faked a cough, “could you… could you get the nurse, I think I need some more water.”

— didn’t move for a second and in that moment, you thought, he knows. You were so sure he knew that you knew that you had remembered. “Sure,” his tone wasn’t cold, but it didn’t have any of the warmness it had mere moments ago. He breezed out of the room, leaving the door cracked.

You breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone, feeling like you were going to die of stress, you stood and stretched. You weren’t in the worst shape, but you had been sitting around for the past three days, you picked up your phone and scrolled threw your messages with —, your best friend. You thought to call her if only to keep your hopes up. They died when you heard the ring of a cell phone nearby.

There was no way, you thought, believing it must be a coincidence, but then what did Spencer say that one time? That there were never any happy accidents or coincidences? That everything always had a reason, whether it was likely or not.

You turned toward the area where — had been sitting, his brown jacket was tossed over the back of the chair. Hesitantly, you pulled it open and rummaged through the pockets, eventually pulling out what you were terrified of finding: —’s phone.

“I couldn’t find any of the nurses,” your blood ran cold as you heard the sound of a door clicking shut, his tone deafening as you felt his presence grow closer, “but you seem all better now.”

Spencer didn’t know whether he should stop by the hospital cafeteria or at a fast food place. Of course, since Garcia seemed to have developed a 6th sense, she could tell something was up–that or Hotch had let something slide, it would be just like him to do something like that.

So, he finally admitted to knowing you and consulted Garcia on his dilemma. She–without hesitation–of course, scolded him for being so narrowminded. If she hated hospitals, she probably hated the food as well, and so, Spencer made a pitstop–but then he thought about it being your first reunion in years and he couldn’t very well just bring you anything.

So, perhaps he had been overthinking everything on the way to the hospital and made more than one stop to gather up the things he remembered you liking back in university. Only when he was stepping out of the car–trying not to trip over mere air as he grabbed the plastic bags–did he realize that maybe he didn’t know everything about you anymore…

He glanced over the items in his hands, sure you may have liked this once upon a time–back when you were together, back when you were something more. But then again–you’d never labeled your relationship. You just were. You were more…to him.

More than soulmates. He shook his head, standing here hesitating would get him nowhere. The car door shut with a thud and Spencer winced slightly before coming to his senses and grabbing at any sort of courage he could reach.

He ignored the staff, he knew he looked silly. With his black puffer jacket on, his satchel crossed over his body, his hair messy, and his arms full, one holding a bear with a get well soon-card–something he’d found at one of the shops near the place he bought your favorite fast food–he hoped it was still your favorite. He’d even bought a blanket, now that they knew the bombing was a personal attack on you–Spencer planned on spending every second keeping you safe–plus the blankets the hospital provided never kept anyone warm.

Though, he did have to admit he was pretty freaked out. When he hung up the phone with Garcia, she had said she would get back to him after she called Hotch and he was right–who knew? He internally patted himself on the back. That guy on your phone looked pretty good for it. More than good–he’d been fired from his job, where all of your interactions had occurred, which, he and Hotch discussed over the phone, must have been the trigger.

Spencer only knew two things about this guy, his name and that he was obsessed with you. Spencer felt his blood boil at the thought that someone you had been so nice to–was the one who had done these horrible things to you in his sick, fucked up ‘name of love’. Sure, Spencer hadn’t spoken to you–hadn’t seen you in ages–but that didn’t mean he didn’t care. Spencer would always care, and right now, he was feeling the brunt of his conviction. He’d make sure that guy didn’t get past the first-floor elevator, he would never let him see you again.

Spencer realized his grip on the bags had tightened, he took a breath and slightly released them. He both wanted to be with you during this time and out hunting down that guy. You were on the second floor and each second that ticked by was killing him. He didn’t know if you’d be happy to see him. JJ had said you remembered most things about yourself, and you remembered your friends, so there was no way you didn’t remember Spencer.

He knew you two didn’t leave things off on a good note, but he hoped that this was fate. He hated thinking someone close to you had to die for you to meet again, but here you were just five feet away. He paused in front of your hospital door, running through the first words he would say–it was quiet, though–extremely quiet, and there were no nurses around–he tilted his head as he spun around, just now noticing the missing presence.

Spencer shivered, feeling the yellow-dimmed fluorescent lights heighten his paranoia. He didn’t too much like hospitals either. He startled and his head swiveled back to your room when he heard a scream, followed by a crash. He froze, but then his adrenaline kicked in and he dropped everything, to throw open the door.

He had you on the floor, hands around your throat, and you were struggling to breathe. It felt like the room was closing in on you, you saw a flash of white and then you closed your eyes, coming to only seconds later as relief pulled you upward. Someone had tackled him–as you sat forward, hunched over, struggling to find your breath again. The room was spinning, it was both dark blue and gray–you could make out the door that was now ajar.

It felt like hours had gone by, you blinked, but could only hold one eye open at a time. A giant red button took over your view and all you could think was that you needed to get to that damned button. You began crawling toward it while the others were distracted.

You didn’t know who that person was, you hadn’t gotten a good look, but to be fair, you could barely see anything in that moment. You reached out an arm, still on your hands and knees. It took everything in you not to collapse right there. When the pads of your fingertips glazed over the button you felt a sigh of relief escape your lungs. You pressed it–an alarm sounded right after. Mission accomplished, but you couldn’t rest just yet. You had to get out of here, the room was too stuffy, where was your breath going? Why couldn’t you feel it anymore?

Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you felt your movements slowing. Your chest shuddered with the weight of everything and you slumped against something hard.

You were breathing as best as you could, but every breath felt like a sword to your lungs. Someone said something or …something–you didn’t know and you didn’t care to.

Your vision was blurry, there were tears in your eyes, and someone moved toward you. You couldn’t tell who it was–you tried speaking, but only wheezing came. You felt something soft and cold press against your lips and all at once, you felt your spirit lifting. Your eyes shot open and you weren’t sure if you were dreaming or recalling a memory from a past life.

No, you had to be dreaming, because you knew this person. Years ago you knew everything about him and he knew everything about you, but you’d never been with him like this–though you had imagined it on some nights when he'd fall asleep across from you and you couldn’t help the urge to study his facial features. Tracing up every curve, trying to encode it into your brain as if you’d be tested on how long his neck was or what shape his mouth formed when he wasn’t speaking.

His shyness brought something out of you, a side to yourself you would have never known existed if you hadn’t met him. If you’d never met Spencer…that’s what it felt like now, because the Spencer you once knew never looked so heartbroken. You smiled as best you could, his face was so close to yours, his breath breathing air into your mouth.

You reached out and wiped one of the tears that escaped his eyes. Thank you, your gaze seemed to try conveying. You hoped he understood how thankful you were to see his face one last time, right before everything went black.

She had found him.

And he had given her up.

Once more, she found him.

And he would never let her go again.

a/n: again sorry for the super late valentines day post!!

@darkmatilda @theylovemelody @kennedy-brooke

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prettygirl-gabi · 4 months ago

Text

Full-Court Love

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader x Azzi Fudd

POV: First-person

Fandom: UConn’s Women’s Basketball

Word Count: 1,500+

Summary: they make time they always do

Valentine’s Day as a college athlete is a tricky thing.

Between practices, classes, and upcoming games, there’s barely any time to breathe, let alone plan something romantic. And this year? It was even worse.

We had the biggest game of the season against South Carolina on the 16th, which meant Coach had us locked into an intense practice schedule. No distractions. No excuses.

But when you’re dating both Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd?

You make time. They make time.

The first sign that Paige and Azzi were up to something came when I walked into the locker room after practice and found a red envelope sitting on top of my bag.

I glanced around, but everyone else was either showering or changing, too focused on their own post-practice routines to notice.

Curious, I picked it up and opened it.

Inside was a simple note, written in Azzi’s neat handwriting:

“Meet us in the film room. Don’t be late. ❤️”

I raised an eyebrow, then shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips.

Whatever they had planned, I already knew it was going to be good.

By the time I got to the film room, I could hear Paige’s laughter through the door.

I pushed it open to find her and Azzi standing in front of the projector screen, which was now displaying a homemade PowerPoint slide that read:

“WHY YOU SHOULD BE OUR VALENTINE”

I blinked. “You made a PowerPoint?”

Paige grinned. “You know I love a good presentation.”

Azzi nodded, holding up a remote. “We have five slides prepared.”

I crossed my arms, biting back a laugh. “This is so unserious.”

Paige smirked. “Just sit down and watch, babe.”

I sighed dramatically but took a seat. “Fine. Impress me.”

Azzi clicked to the next slide, which had a picture of me in my UConn jersey mid-game, looking absolutely locked in. Underneath it, the text read:

“Reason #1: You’re the best player on the team (don’t tell Coach we said that).”

I snorted. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

Paige grinned. “Next slide, Z.”

The next one showed a candid photo of the three of us from last semester, curled up together on the couch, half-asleep during a movie night.

“Reason #2: You make every moment better.”

I felt my heart squeeze a little.

Azzi glanced at me, a small smile on her face. “It’s true. Even when we’re exhausted, just being with you makes everything feel easier.”

Paige nudged her. “Damn, getting sentimental already?”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Paige.”

I grinned, shaking my head. “Y’all are actually kinda cute.”

Paige winked. “Just wait.”

The next slide had a picture of me standing between them after a game, arms around their shoulders, all three of us grinning.

“Reason #3: We love you, duh.”

I exhaled softly, warmth spreading through my chest.

Paige leaned against the desk. “We know the timing sucks this year with the South Carolina game coming up, but we didn’t want today to just feel like any other day.”

Azzi nodded. “So, will you be our Valentine?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile on my face. “Like I’d ever say no to you two.”

Paige grinned. “Good answer.”

Azzi smirked. “We also have dinner plans.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Coach explicitly said no distractions—”

Paige waved a hand. “Coach didn’t say we couldn’t eat dinner.”

Azzi nodded. “And we already cleared it with the team. A bunch of them are doing their own little date nights before we go full lock-in mode tomorrow.”

I sighed, standing up. “Y’all really thought of everything, huh?”

Paige smirked. “Always.”

Azzi grabbed my hand. “Come on. It’s a surprise.”

They took me to a small, cozy Italian restaurant about fifteen minutes off campus, one of those places you’d never notice unless you were looking for it.

The second we walked in, I realized Paige and Azzi had really planned ahead—the restaurant had a private table set up in the back, complete with dim lighting and a tiny vase of roses in the center.

I turned to them, impressed. “Okay, I was expecting something chill, but y’all actually went all out.”

Paige grinned, pulling out a chair for me. “Only the best for our girl.”

Azzi sat down across from me, smiling softly. “We figured we wouldn’t get much alone time after today, so we wanted to make this one count.”

I glanced between them, warmth pooling in my chest. “I love you two, you know that?”

Paige smirked. “We do now.”

Azzi reached across the table, lacing her fingers with mine. “Love you too.”

Paige nodded, grabbing my other hand. “Love you more.”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re not doing the ‘who loves who more’ thing at this table.”

Azzi smirked. “That sounds like something someone losing would say.”

Paige cackled. “OHH, she got you.”

I groaned. “Y’all are literally the worst.”

Paige winked. “And you love it.”

Unfortunately for me, she wasn’t wrong.

After dinner, we walked back to the car, hands intertwined as the cold February air nipped at our skin.

Paige nudged me playfully. “So, did we do okay?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Okay? Y’all actually managed to surprise me. That’s a first.”

Azzi grinned. “That was the goal.”

I looked between them, my heart feeling way too full. “Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

Paige smirked. “Just wait until next year.”

Azzi nodded. “We’re only getting started.”

And knowing them?

I believed it.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

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chimivx · 7 months ago

Text

“…i want you, bless my soul…”

Four months.

You met him on your first day in your first class, your professor the agitated type, the kind that gave you piles of homework with every lesson. He sat beside you, slipping into his chair right before the syllabus slid onto the table in front of you.

Dark hair cut short in the back lived a little more free in the front, on the top, growing into a messier, curlier mop as the weeks drew by, on and on. Tall, broad, and most definitely strong as hell, he was gorgeous. There simply wasn’t any other word for it, he walked into class every week with his golden skin aglow no matter where the sun lived in the sky. You’d be lying if you said your stomach didn’t twist in knots watching his wide eyes scan the room, standing there near the doorway in a white t-shirt and dark blue denim jeans clasped to his waist with a leather belt.

What in the fucking Calvin Klein ad just walked in here?

Don’t sit next to me, don’t sit next to me, please don’t-

He wore Dior Sauvage, just enough of it to charm your eyes in his direction, the two of your glances meeting for only a few seconds, yet long enough to know that this was going to be a long semester.

After that first week, that first class, he showed up on time, sometimes even earlier than you, and sure enough he’d be in that seat and he’d offer you the tiniest smile while he pushed in his chair to let you pass behind him.

Did he own any clothes that fit?

It felt like every week he’d have on a new shirt that clung to him like seran wrap, every little chiseled sculpted by Michaelangelo notch in his body, his chest, completely and utterly visible. As if he didn’t know it, more than enough time in class he’d spend with his hands behind his head, his biceps tightening in his sleeves, bulging beneath the fabric that you waited to see rip.

Too often you’d have to tear your eyes away, too lost in wonder as to what kind of marvel sat beside you. Six foot something, perfectly built, not only did his appearance alone catch you off guard, but his ability to be so gentle. A smiley, sappy giant full of tooth rotting sweetness. Each raise of his hand, how he toyed with his pen between his firm fingers, the way he’d listen to other people speak — his eyebrows pulling up in the center, his eyes widening with wonder. He’d keep to his space, never once invading yours. Respectful, he knew to say hello, goodbye, would ask you quiet questions, like what page number you were on, and he’d give you thanks into oblivion.

It wasn’t until a month or so had passed that you realized it. One morning you stood in front of the mirror for too long, put a little too much effort into your makeup, into your hair. Spritzing a bottle of perfume to your wrist that you saved for special occasions, when the glass tapped back onto the shelf and you dabbed your wrists together, you gasped.

Damn.

Swapping the lacey sweater for something more casual, you know, for class, you pulled half of your hair up and back, letting some of it hang forward, praying to anyone who’d help that it didn’t look like you woke up before your alarm to get ready for a class you half cared about.

He noticed.

He sat down, walking in a few minutes after you, and his eyes lingered in your direction. Not that you could tell, nor were you paying attention, you were sitting backward in your chair with your nose in your phone. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t good at being nonchalant like you’d been for nearly two months now.

Besides, it didn’t work. He didn’t say a word the entire class, only his hello and his goodbye.

It didn’t upset you. That’s what you told yourself, the lies you fed your brain to pretend to feel better. It didn’t upset you, he was a boy in a class you didn’t see anywhere else on campus. He probably had a girlfriend. Look at him, listen to him, he definitely has a girlfriend.

By the next class you were back to the usual, the snoozed my alarm twice before getting up in a rush, a hoodie and baggy jeans. Hair thrown up, makeup minimal, you accepted your fate.

You weren’t expecting him to be in the room first, you’ve narrowed down his time frame of entry, typically within ten minutes of the lecture starting depending on when you’d arrive. He was five minutes too early. Giving him the tightest smile, you shimmied behind his chair and mimicked his greeting, shoving yourself into your seat, not prepared for fifteen minutes of silence with him beside you.

Nose in phone, nose in phone.

It was all you could do to keep from gawking, for some reason he was fresher than normal. Black t-shirt, denim jacket on the back of his chair, silver jewelry hanging off of him. He wore a different cologne, one you couldn’t pick out, but god it was delicious you wanted to lick it straight off his neck. He definitely sprayed it to his wrists too, typical, you could lick it off of him there too, why not. Maybe even his chest. No- anything beneath that shirt that should be squeezing the air out of his lungs was lethal, how was every muscle visible? How could he walk around like that, he had to know that-

“Did you do the homework?”

Great.

You didn’t dress yourself up to keep the giddy high school level crush on the DL, but the way you jumped at his words and your cheeks warmed definitely helped. And, yes, you were staring.

“I, uh, yeah, I did.”

If he noticed anything, he didn’t show it.

“Mind if I see it to make sure I got it right? You’re better at this than I am.”

Juvenile, all of it, from the way he checked his answers to the way he slid your notebook back over to you with a shake of his head. Nothing else was shared, the class had begun and he focused on your irritating professor who assigned similar homework for the third week in a row.

Holding onto the way he spoke to you, the soft tone, the warmth in his eyes, the subtle graveliness he forced but then got rid of when he answered questions aloud, you truly felt seventeen years old all over again.

He asked you a question.

He talked to you.

Did he spend more time on how he looked for you?

No, it’s for his girlfriend. The one he definitely has.

The girlfriend that he-

“Whatever perfume you had on last week… I liked it.”

He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t wait around for you to say anything. He scooped his books into his arms, and he walked out of the classroom, leaving you in absolute shambles. Nerves lived within you for a week, so many nights spent lying awake thinking about him, what he said to you, what you were going to do. If you wear the perfume again you’re setting yourself up for exposure, you may as well just tell him you have a crush on him to his face. But, then again, if you didn’t wear it, you’d lose his interest. He wouldn’t think you had an interest in him, and what if he told you that because he does have an interest in you?

Oh god.

What if he knows?

You wore the perfume. One spritz of it over your heart before you left your room, enough that he’d just be able to tell if he paid as much attention as he suddenly seemed to be.

Early again, beating you to a class you tried to get to even earlier today, you did not miss the small smile that pulled at his lips as you slipped behind his chair. It was the only thing shared all class, a smile somewhere in between lessons when he caught your eye. He had that same cologne on, the one from last week, the one that had you envisioning what it’d be like to have your tongue dragging all over his body, it was hard to not look at him.

Oh, he definitely knew.

And so it began.

For another month, perfume and cologne alike, worn every class, you started to share more than smiles. He’d lean your way for questions and answers, would ask about the homework, the assignments, sometimes when he didn’t even need it, asking for an answer he already had scribbled on his paper. Fighting the nerves, the way your belly filled with butterflies and did cartwheels within you, you started to share more than just classroom talk. While you worked you chatted, you learned where he was from, where he came from, where you came from and why you both were here.

He was funny.

Funny in the way he didn’t know he was funny, oftentimes asking you what he did to make you laugh like that. You’d cover your mouth and pray the giggles away, unable to tell him how adorable he really was.

He filled every shoe you profiled him with. Kind, sweet, funny, gentle giant.

Chiseled chest his cologne, the one you loved, radiated from.

But you didn’t figure that out until the following month.

Month four.

Four months was all it took, and he was yours.

Class whispers turned into coffee dates. Coffee dates turned into homework dates, which turned into dinner dates.

By the end of the third you were wrapped in his sheets, wrapped in him, cologne on your tongue and lips pressed to his, whispering confessions of how long you liked each other but both felt too nervous to say anything. Reveling in pride, that you weren’t as obvious as you thought yourself to be, his sparkling grin overtook his face and he whispered two words that cradled your heart.

“I knew.”

#kim mingyu #seventeen #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #college!seventeen #seventeen x y/n #college mingyu #campus crush #tswift song challengeee #mingyu scenarios #mingyu fluff #a lil somethin to fuel the juices

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zoe535 · 2 months ago

Text

No Surprises Here

WC: 2.6k

Pairing: Paige and Azzi (pazzi)

A/N: Enjoy. Based on this prompt

The lights of Werth buzzed calmly overhead as the final whistle of practice blew. Sneakers screeched against the hardwood as the players scattered, sweat dripping and laughter filling the gym.

Paige tossed a towel over her shoulder, glancing sideways at Azzi as she grabbed a ball and casually spun it on one finger. Azzi caught her staring and smirked. "You're so obvious," Azzi mouthed.

Paige rolled her eyes dramatically and looked away, trying to act casual. As if the past five years hadn't been a masterclass in acting casual. As if they hadn't spent half their college careers sneaking glances, sharing secret smiles, hiding in plain sight.

The worst part? They were probably terrible at it.

"You two coming?" KK called, already halfway out the gym doors with Ashlynn and Sarah trailing behind her. "Or do you need a moment to profess your undying love again?" Ashlynn snorted. "KK! Leave them alone!"

Paige's face went red. Azzi, as usual, played it cool, twirling the ball once more before passing it lightly to Ashlynn. "Coming," Azzi said smoothly.

As the team headed toward the locker room, Paige lingered for a second, feeling the weight of it all settle into her chest again. Maybe it was time. Maybe tonight was the night she told the team.

---

In the locker room, music thumped low from someone's speaker, probably Ice's, and girls peeled off jerseys, tossing them into laundry baskets and chattering about weekend plans, which was most likely going to Ted's.

Paige dropped onto the bench next to Azzi, their knees brushing. She tensed automatically, instinctively checking around the room even though no one was looking. No one ever seemed to be looking. And yet... Paige always felt like she was wearing a flashing neon sign saying "I'M IN LOVE WITH AZZI FUDD."

"You okay?" Azzi murmured under her breath, handing Paige her water bottle. Paige nodded but didn't speak. Her throat was tight. Azzi leaned in, dropping her voice to a whisper. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" Paige looked at her, heart pounding. Tell them. Finally. Tonight.

Azzi’s hand brushed against Paige’s.

Just for a second, just enough, and that tiny touch gave her courage. "We should just tell them," Paige muttered. "I’m tired of pretending." Azzi smiled softly, the kind of smile that Paige would have crossed a thousand courts for. "Okay," Azzi said. "Tonight."

---

The team lounged around the locker room after showers, sprawling on benches, sipping protein shakes, scrolling on their phones. Ice was half-heartedly trying to organize a movie night "I'm telling y'all, Twilight is good when you squint your eyes!", while KK and Jana El Alfy argued about who won the earlier round of HUSKY they played.

It was the perfect chaos. Paige cleared her throat. No one heard. She tried again, louder this time. "Hey, uh, can I say something?"

Heads turned.

A few eyebrows raised.

KK Arnold froze mid-sip of her Gatorade.

Ashlynn Shade set down her phone, her expression curious.

Azzi stood up next to Paige, solid and sure.

"We, uh..." Paige started, rubbing the back of her neck. "We just wanted to tell you guys something."

A beat. Silence.

Paige looked at Azzi, who nodded encouragingly. "We've been dating," Paige said in a rush. "For like, five years."

There was a pause. Then KK blinked. "No shit." The room exploded. Ice bent over laughing, slapping her knee. "Five years?! Girl, we been knew!"

Jana shook her head in mock disbelief. "Y’all thought you were slick?" Ice smirked. "The matching hoodies? The late-night 'study sessions'? Paige letting Azzi steal her fries without fighting back? Dead giveaways." KK Porter chimed in. "Y'all basically moved in together last semester, didn't you?"

Jana grinned and added in her thick accent, "It was more obvious than Paige's crossover." The room dissolved into laughter. Paige stood there, stunned, heat creeping up her neck. "You KNEW?" she said. "Since like... my first visit...you weren't fooling anyone." Ashlynn said, rolling her eyes fondly.

Azzi covered her face with her hands, laughing. "We were so careful!" Paige insisted. "No, you thought you were careful," KK corrected. "You were about as subtle as Geno yelling at us during film." Another round of laughter errupted.

Ice threw an arm around Paige’s shoulder. "Relax. We love you guys. You’re like, relationship goals or whatever." KK nodded. "Power couple energy." Ashlynn smirked. "We were just waiting for you to catch up and admit it."

Paige stared around the room — the easy smiles, the warmth, the absolute lack of judgment — and felt something inside her unclench for the first time in years.

Azzi nudged her gently. "Told you," she whispered.

Paige laughed, real, belly-deep laughter, and pulled Azzi into a hug, right there in front of everyone.

The team cheered.

The chaos finally simmered down enough for the team to slump into a sort of loose circle around Paige and Azzi. Ashlynn grabbed a protein bar, unwrapped it noisily, and pointed it accusingly at Paige. "So... like, when exactly did it happen?" she demanded. "I need a timeline."

Sarah leaned in eagerly. "Yes, please. Humor me."

Paige ran a hand through her hair, still flushed. "I mean... technically... my senior year of high school?" Gasps echoed around the room.

"NO," Ice yelled, sitting bolt upright. "Y’all were CHILDREN." KK fake-fainted onto the bench beside her. "Five years. FIVE. YEARS. I'm sick." "High school sweethearts," Jana El Alfy said dreamily. "Like in the movies... but you know y'all went to different schools."

Paige and Azzi both groaned. "We didn’t plan it!" Azzi said, laughing helplessly. "It just... happened." "You make it sound like you tripped and fell into a relationship," KK Arnold said dryly.

"Lowkey, that’s exactly what it felt like," Paige admitted.

Ashlynn leaned forward, narrowing her eyes dramatically. "So wait. You had like... secret dates? Secret hand-holding? What else are you hiding from us? Secret wedding? Secret baby?"

Everyone burst into another round of laughter. Azzi held up her hands. "Okay, okay, no weddings. No babies. Just... a lot of sneaking around and pretending we weren’t stupidly in love."

"Adorable," Ice said, gagging playfully.

"Pathetic," Ashlynn corrected, grinning.

"Legendary," KK Arnold concluded, nodding with mock seriousness.

Paige smiled, her chest tight with a weird, overwhelming kind of happiness. It felt so good, so unbelievably good, to finally breathe around them.

"Honestly," Azzi said after a moment, "we really thought we'd shock you guys." Ashlynn barked a laugh. "Girl, you shock us when you actually hit free throws under pressure. Not when you admit you've been googly-eyeing Fudd for half a decade."

Paige clutched her chest like she’d been shot. "RUDE." KK chimed in, giggling. "It’s called observation skills, sweetie. You should try it sometime."

---

As the laughter finally started to die down, Ice leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

Her voice was softer this time, almost serious. "For real, though," she said, "we're happy for you. Like... really happy." The room nodded collectively. It wasn’t even a question.

Acceptance so casual, so complete, it almost knocked Paige over.

Azzi blinked quickly, like she might get emotional. "I... thanks, guys," she said, voice small but sure. Paige just squeezed her hand. She thought no one could see. Or so she thought because the next second KK called out, "Awww, they’re holding hands! How pure!" Paige launched a half-empty water bottle at her, missing by a mile.

---

Later, after most of the team had gone off to shower or head to dinner, Paige and Azzi stayed behind, alone on the locker room bench.

The gym was quiet now, just the low hum of the vents overhead. The air smelled like floor polish and detergent and the unmistakable memory of hard work.

"You okay?" Azzi asked, tilting her head. Paige nodded slowly. "Yeah. Better than okay." She leaned back, bumping her shoulder into Azzi's. "I guess... I didn’t realize how much it would mean. Them knowing. And not caring."

Azzi smiled, small and soft. "I knew they wouldn’t." Paige laughed under her breath. "Of course you did. You're smarter than me." "Obviously," Azzi teased lightly. They sat there for a few long moments, soaking it in. Then, because Paige couldn’t help herself, she said, "You know Geno's gonna find out next." Azzi groaned dramatically. "Ugh, why would you remind me about that!."

"To see your reaction," Paige said, grinning. "And I bet he also knew." "I bet he's been waiting to roast us for years." They looked at each other, and started laughing.

---

The next day at practice Paige was minding her own business, working through passing drills with Ice and KK, when she felt a pair of heavy eyes on her. She glanced up and immediately regretted it.

Geno Auriemma was standing at halfcourt, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched so high it practically touched his hairline. Oh no. He motioned her over with a single, imperious finger. Paige threw a desperate look at Azzi, who gave her a helpless shrug.

Dead woman walking.

She jogged over, already bracing herself.

"You and Fudd," Geno said without preamble. "Finally decided to stop sneaking around like two high schoolers at prom?" Paige groaned and accepted her fate.

Geno smirked. "I coached Diana Taurasi," he said. "You think I can’t spot gay panic when I see it?" Paige covered her face with both hands. "Coach." "I'm just mad it took you five years to fess up," he continued casually. "Terrible communication. You should both run suicides for that alone."

Paige peeked out between her fingers. "You're not...mad?" Geno snorted. "Kid, I've known since the first time you passed up a wide open three to give her the ball. Paige Bueckers, passing up a shot? That's true love."

Across the gym, the team was watching, openly laughing. Ice cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, " MAKE HER RUN, COACH! MAKE HER SUFFER!"

KK chimed in: "BOTH OF THEM!"

Azzi doubled over laughing.

Paige just sighed.

At least it was out now.

No secrets.

No hiding.

Just...them.

---

Later that night they found themselves curled up on the couch in their apartment, the TV playing some mindless reality show they weren’t even watching.

Azzi's head was tucked against Paige's shoulder. Paige absentmindedly playing with her curls.

"You think they'll ever let us live this down?" Paige asked.mAzzi snorted. "Absolutely not." Paige sighed dramatically. "Worth it." Azzi tilted her head up, smiling lazily. "Definitely worth it." They kissed, soft and easy, no panic, no fear, no one to hide from.

And somewhere in the corner of the living room, Paige’s phone buzzed.

A message from Ice in the team group chat:

Ice: Just checking... do we call y'all #FUECKERS or #AZZIGE now? Important.

Below it, KK Arnold had already replied:

KK: #BucketLove

Another text came

Ashlynn: #GrossButCute

Sarah: no guys I got it, it's #pazzi

Paige laughed so hard she nearly dropped her phone. Azzi grinned against her collarbone. "Home," Azzi said simply. Paige kissed the top of her head. "Yeah," she whispered. "Home."

Two Days Later

Practice ended with a hard scrimmage. KK had just broken Jana's ankles with a filthy crossover and Geno, mercifully, let them off the hook after only one round of sprints.

Everyone was buzzing with energy as they filed into the locker room. That should’ve been Paige’s first warning. Because the second she stepped inside, a wave of suspicious grinning faces greeted her.

KK stood dead center, holding up a T-shirt like it was a trophy.

The shirt was a blinding, neon pink color and across the chest, in giant glittery letters, it said "PROPERTY OF AZZI FUDD" (With a tiny basketball logo underneath.)

Paige froze.

Azzi started laughing.

Before Paige could run, Ice shoved another shirt into Azzi’s hands.

Azzi’s was bright purple, and in big block letters it read: I ONLY PASS TO BUCKETS (AND TO PAIGE TOO, I GUESS)

The team erupted in howls.

Ashlynn flopped onto a bench, tears of laughter streaming down her face. Sarah was already filming everything on her phone.

"We got your sizes and everything!" KK announced proudly. Azzi was laughing so hard she was wheezing. "You guys are the worst."

Ice smirked. "You love us." Paige just put her face in her hands again. "You have to wear them to breakfast tomorrow," Ashlynn declared. "Yeah," Ice agreed. "Team rules. No backsies." Paige peeked out between her fingers. "This is bullying." "It’s team bonding," KK corrected. Jana nodded solemnly, agreeing.

Azzi straightened up, wiped her eyes, and grinned at Paige. "Guess we have no choice." Paige groaned, grabbing the pink shirt. "I'm gonna get roasted." "You were gonna get roasted anyway," Ice pointed out. "At least now you’ll be fashionable."

---

The Next Morning

At breakfast in the dining hall, Paige and Azzi walked in side-by-side, proudly wearing their awful shirts.

One of the private chefs in the gym kitchen gave them a thumbs up.

It was surreal.

It was mortifying.

It was...perfect.

Azzi bumped Paige’s hip playfully. "Look at you, trendsetter." Paige deadpanned. "If I die of secondhand embarrassment, tell my mom it was your fault." Azzi just laughed and stole a grape off her plate. And somehow, somehow, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

---

Later in the team meeting room KK had said she had something for the team, which was normal. The fact that the players were vibrating with suppressed laughter as they filed into the meeting room was not normal.

Paige should have known something was up. The lights dimmed. The projector clicked on.

The giant screen lit up with a photo collage.

Photos of her and Azzi.

Candid ones, clearly taken without their knowledge. One of Paige staring dreamily across the gym. One of Azzi slipping Paige a water bottle with a stupid lovesick smile. One of them sitting too close on the bus. One of them at team dinner, knees bumping, heads tipped together.

A big, bold title sprawled across the top "FIVE YEARS OF DENIAL: A LOVE STORY"

The room erupted. Paige buried her face in her hands. Azzi just laughed until she couldn’t breathe. "You guys are THE WORST," Paige wailed. KK wiped her eyes. "This is the best day of my life."

Paige peeked at Azzi...her Azzi, beautiful and radiant and laughing so hard she glowed and felt it again. That feeling.

Home.

Family.

The best damn team in the world.

---

That Night, Back at Their Apartment

Paige stood at the window, looking out at the campus lights twinkling in the dark. Azzi came up behind her, wrapping her arms around Paige’s waist and resting her chin on her shoulder. "You thinking?" Azzi murmured.

Paige leaned back into her. "Yeah." "About?" Paige turned to face her, heart full. "How lucky I am," she said simply. Azzi’s eyes softened. "Me too." They stood there for a long time, breathing each other in, the hum of the world fading away outside. Five years of hiding. Five years of waiting. And now...finally free, well almost, but it's progress.

Paige pressed her forehead to Azzi’s. "Home," she whispered. Azzi smiled. "Always." And somewhere in the living room, Paige’s phone buzzed again.

Team group chat:

KK: Reminder: Couple’s costume contest for Halloween. Paige and Azzi are legally required to participate.

Ice: I call dibs on being the judge.

Ashlynn: I'm excited for this.

Jana: Can't wait

Sarah: we all know they're gonna win

Paige laughed into Azzi’s shoulder. "Think we can win?" she teased. Azzi kissed her softly. "We already did."

#paige bueckers #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #pazzi #pazzi fics

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novvabee · 7 months ago

Text

"Honey, I Cut My Hair."

so this is totally not inspired by what i did a couple nights ago.... anyways.

poly!marauders x reader where she cuts her hair impulsively

cw: razor and scissors, nerves and anxiety?, suggestive at the end i guess, dont do this.

word count: 1K its really short... like my hair now

Watching the locks of hair fall into the sink. The quiet shhkk sshhhhk the scissors make when you slide them through your hair. The way the razor pulls down, gliding along smoothly.

It had all become too much. The semester was wrapping up, you had to study for your NEWTS, had three papers to write for history of magic, a potions project, and to top it all off, you had the stress of the upcoming holidays. You were relieved that school would be out for the semester, but you were still anxious about the break.

Your parents were going away for the holidays, meaning you were left to stay at Hogwarts for the break. Well, that’s what you were planning, but the second that James heard you would be staying at school, alone for the holidays, he insisted that you come and stay at his parents place along with Sirius and Remus. You told him that you didn’t want to burden his parents by opening their home up to yet another misfit kid, but James wasn’t having it. He said that his mother wanted to meet you anyway, so it was perfect.

That was the final layer of stress, meeting one of your boyfriend’s parents, great. You were panicking now, having to get all three of them a present, and now James’s mom and dad too…

You were stressing a lot. And that is when you felt your hair tickle your neck, touching you in just the wrong way and you kind of just… snapped.

You grabbed some scissors from your desk in your room and a razor from your bathroom and decided it was time to get to it. You mostly just wanted to feel in control for a second, and this was your means of doing that, a small win. You didn’t take off a lot, just enough to make you feel a bit better, a bit lighter.

That's when you heard the door to your room open and a small “Hello, love!” from James. You forgot that you told them they could come and hang out in your room after they were done studying in the library. You heard all three of them file into your room, dropping their bags and kicking off their shoes.

“Bathroom!” you called out, letting them know where you were. The door to the bathroom was still open, so James made his way over to see what you were up to.

“We were thinking that we could hang out for a little then head down and meet- Oh Merlin.” he cut himself off, entering the bathroom and seeing what you were doing. You snipped at another section, not sensing his concern. “Love, what are you doing?” he asked, exasperated.

You didn’t have time to answer before Sirius was popping his head in. He let out a gasp, but you caught the amused smile in the mirror. He covered the lower half of his face with both hands, seeing the mess of the discarded hair all along the counter, sink, and floor.

“I uh, got upset.” you explained, not halting your actions for a second. You were raking the razor through segments of your locks, creating layers and volume. For never doing this before, you seemed to know what you were doing. If you would have known it was this easy, you would have done it all the time, not bothering with overpriced hair salons.

It was Remus’s turn to appear in the doorway. He didn’t say a word, just made eye contact with you in the mirror before walking up behind you and gently taking the razor from your hand, setting it on the hair covered counter. He hugged your middle and kissed the top of your head. “Why are you doing this, dove?” he asked softly.

“I just got so… upset. I have so much homework and studying. And I'm nervous about meeting James's parents, and I have yet to get you any presents.” you said rushed, avoiding Remus’s gaze in the mirror.

“That doesn’t explain why we found you chopping your hair off.” he mused.

“Oh well, it brushed me the wrong way.” you explained.

Remus chuckled at that and kissed the top of your head again. “So you had to show it who’s boss?”

You laughed along with him. Admittedly it was a dumb thing to do, a very abrupt and emotion led decision. “Does it look bad?” you asked.

Remus’s brows rose. “Not at all actually, you did a pretty good job. You didn’t take off that much anyway.” He said, running his fingers through your now cut locks.

You smiled and felt yourself melt into his embrace. “I shouldn’t have done it, it was a dumb thing to do. Especially right before I’m supposed to meet my boyfriend’s parents.” you started to stress yourself out again, what if they didn’t like you, why would you cut your hair right before meeting them, what if it looks bad and they think…

All three boys could see the thoughts running behind your eyes. James spoke from where he was leaning on the door frame, “Love, we don’t need presents, you know that. We will be happy just to spend the whole break with you” he said, calming you down.

You nodded, acknowledging what he was saying, but you were definitely going to get them something. Maybe you could rope Mary or Lily into last minute gift shopping with you.

“Maybe next time we feel like this, we channel our emotions into something else?” he suggested. You nodded and he unraveled his arms from around you, making his way back into your bedroom.

“Wait!” you called after your boys. They halted and turned their attention back to you. “Is the back even?” you asked.

James and Remus chuckled, rolling their eyes and kept walking. Sirius turned back and told you to turn around so he could have a look. He took your hair in his hand and used his grip to pull you back into his chest. You giggled and caught that smile yet again in the mirror.

“It looks great baby.” he said, kissing your cheek. “Next time, invite me to hair salon day.”

“Only if I get you to do your hair and makeup too.” you joked

“I’ll think about it…” he said, kissing the top of your head once more before returning to your boyfriends in your room, leaving you to add the finishing touches to your hair, and to clean everything up yourself.

✂️please don't use this as a sign to cut your own hair i am stupid and impulsive. also why can i write so many fics but nothing for school? beats me thats why my hair is gone :)

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kooahae · 2 years ago

Text

AFTER LAST NIGHT

Summary: After catching your current boyfriend cheating on you. You do what you always do- run to your childhood best friend Jeon Jungkook to ask him about a way to confront your partner, What you don’t know is that Jungkook has been thinking about something( someone) a bit more than usual and this couldn’t have been better news for him, for both of you. MINORS DNI

Pairing:best friend to lovers, Jungkook X female reader

Warnings:cursing, arguing, cheating (not JK), a little angst, fluff, some self-reflection, toxic partner, Oc, and Jk are very raw and honest with each other. SMUT Oral ( f. Receiving) Unprotected sex (pls don’t this, just don’t.) F*ngering, praising, big d!ck JK, overstim, tummy bulging mentioned, he finishes inside, sq***ting…tbh you’ve been warned it’s pretty smutty but it’s super sweet.

word count:9,656

Read the next part/drabble here

“Hey, honey I will be home late tonight after work, Don’t wait up!”

Seojun yelled from outside your bedroom, which means yet another morning waking up alone in bed. It’s always like this. Seojun and you have been together for a year and a half but he feels more like a stranger than ever.

How?

Time changes things. There were just way too many problems and it felt like all of them came from him. You know you played your part, but it never amounted to the same weight of issues he caused. He never tried to meet you halfway. You simply compromise, or you both argue until someone decides to take the couch. Again, it wasn’t always like this. He used to take you on dates, take photos of you, and invite you to his company dinners. He was really a good guy at first.

The two of you started dating towards the fall semester of your junior year in college. He was a year older, so he was always showing you around in your prior academic years before you started dating. Your mutual friend Namjoon, helped the two of you grow close. Interesting that now it feels like the most distant you’ve been with anyone in your life, and that says a lot because you’re not the most extroverted person. Somehow, you let him in. You thought you had so much in common and it turns out you were wrong. Everyone around you could see how stressful and draining being with him was for you as time progressed, yet you always defended it.

So, as you readjusted the pillow and looked up at the ceiling, you thought about how living here was becoming one of the worst things you’ve ever decided to do. The ugly truth? it was second to being in this relationship. This is not for the weak, especially when the person you love, isn’t the person you lay next to every night, and that’s if he’s even home. It’s not that Seojun is a bad person, he just isn’t him.

Your childhood best friend, Jeon Jungkook. Bless him and those sparkly eyes. He has always been a sweet soul. Simply put, He was your everything. If you had it your way -and didn’t feel like it would jeopardize your relationship as friends- you would’ve acted on it a long time ago. It’s not that you didn’t love Seojun; quite the contrary you loved him, but you weren’t in love with him anymore. You started thinking about the first time you knew you’d rather be with Jungkook. Yes, you always liked him but this was different. Last year’s beach trip with your friends, Seojun made the BIGGEST FUCKING SCENE. It was all over you having a drink-no you weren’t drunk - Yes, he’s controlling. He ended up leaving early because Jungkook stepped in. It was nice to have someone defend you like that, he always has. That’s when you realized you were falling out of love with Seojun, and that your heart still longed for Jungkook. You tried everything in your power to spice up your relationship but it just kept declining and now..here you are.

As you got up to brush your teeth and wash your face, you felt a little bitter. You lived with Jungkook up until you moved in with your boyfriend, You used to love walking into the kitchen, breakfast being cooked, and Bam waiting for you. You even liked the mornings when it was you who had to do the cooking, just to see that smile of his.

You walked into your kitchen with no Bam or Jungkook in sight- but you knew what you gave up when you moved here. You just didn’t know how much you would miss it.

As you take a look into the fridge you notice he apparently forgot it was his turn to go grocery shopping. Go figure. you decide cereal for breakfast it is. You scoffed grabbing the cereal first. You can’t believe Seojun is a milk-first person, like Seriously? What do you even have in common with him at this point?

Your phone’s ringtone ripped you out of the ‘Seojun and I: pros and cons’ battle you have found yourself doing in the morning. You flipped your phone over to see who it was and happily answered the incoming phone call.

“There she is!”

“Jiminie, why are you always this excited in the morning?”

“ I’m not, you and I both know this. I happen to like my bestie though. Go shopping with me and Hobi!” Your older brother, and best friend in one person... He’s being annoying but it’s honestly Jimin, there was no harm done here. Your older brother always cared for you too, which is why you’re so close to him. He is and has always been one of your comfort places, along with Jungkook.

“I don’t have anything else better to do, What time?”

Jimin pursed his lips as he contemplated what time he should pick you up. “The next hour, so be ready!”

“Okay. Is Jungkook coming?” You said trying not to sound too defeated.

“No, he thinks you hate him because you haven’t texted him back these last two weeks. I’ve talked to your best friend more than you. I know Kook is a family friend, but speaking to him this much about you in particular is killing me.” Now this one- again, no harm done here. A little bitter feeling from your side, but only because you knew he was right.

Damn, that might be a new record for you. You’ve only ignored Jungkook four days straight before- and at that time you were in the eighth grade. He still apologizes to this day for breaking your snow globe. Even buys you one for Christmas every year now because he felt so bad. Have you really not said anything to him in two weeks?

‘Seojun could never be better than JK, you would not have to choose’ Jimin had once said. Again, he was right.

You eventually freed yourself from your thoughts.

“Jimin, you and I both know, I do not hate him.” You said to your brother.

“Then text him back.” And with that, he hung up.

You decided to get dressed in a basic crop tee, some baggy jeans, and your favorite pair of sneakers. You made sure to put your hair into a half up, half down with your claw clip. Grabbed your purse and then pulled it across your body. Checking for touch-ups and spraying your favorite perfume- the one Jungkook bought you seven of because it’s just ‘soooo hard’ for you to find. Another pinging sound ripped you from your thoughts. The doorbell chime going off nonstop. why are Jimin and Hobi so extra?!

“Hi. I heard the doorbell the first time” You said as you pulled the door open to be greeted by two bright smiles.

“These are for you,” Jimin said, as he handed you flowers.

“Tiger lilies, Really?” The confusion on your face lasted for all of three seconds. You could guess what they were for. Still, you asked. “You know it’s not my birth flower, What are these for?”

“Duh. Jungkook made us bring them, he said ‘Please stop ignoring me’ or some shit like that.” Hobi stated. Jimin nodded his head to agree.

As your finger traced a petal you spoke “He is Mr. Please love me. Fitting”

Looking at the flowers reminded you of something his mom used to say to you ‘Never underestimate Jungkook’s ability to make you feel special, Never underestimate his ability to make sure you think about him either. That’s the type of person my son is.’ You miss her too. You Should ask when you can grab lunch soon. Once you stop ignoring her son, the person who you love more than anyone else. Yanno…your best friend.

“I’m gonna go put these in some water and we can go.” You said as you tried to calm down your heartbeat.

How can he make you blush and he isn’t even here? Why can’t Seojun make you feel like this anymore?

You walked back out to your brother and hobi. Trying to

act as normal as possible. You’re really missing him right now. You know you do and apparently so does everyone around you.

“You’re incredibly down bad for each other. Losers.” Hobi just had to be the first to say something about it.

“Aren’t they hyung? It’s so cute.” -and apparently Jimin just had to follow up.

Annoying.

“Ooh that one, Jungkook would like that one! Wouldn’t he Chim Chim?” You asked. Your eyes bright as ever, as you looked at the light projector.

“____ he already has how many of these?” His eyebrow raised at you.

“But does he have this one?! I don’t think so. Hobi you agree right?”

“You know what happened last time we brought Jungkook on a shopping trip? He wouldn’t stop running his mouth about you either. Which is why, you have to stop before we no longer invite you.” Hobi said as he teased you.

“Whatever, you guys are being haters. I’m gonna buy it!” You said flashing a smile, as you made your way to the purchasing counter.

Once you were all checked out and got it gift-wrapped for him you smiled proudly to yourself. “I’m the greatest friend ever.” You said rejoining them

“You are but…you’re also a simp, just a cute one.” Your older brother grinned, patting your head.

“Anyway, we should go to the food court! I want some sprite.” Hobi said and you agreed- mostly because that bowl of cereal just didn’t do it for you this morning.

As you sat with them at the food table, you noticed them both staring at you.

“Can I help you?” You asked raising your eyebrows

“How’s your relationship?” Hobi asks you out of nowhere.

-and that’s the question you always hate... Not because it’s going well but because your response is always a lie when you say

“Going good.”

Jimin rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You’re lying and we know… because we know you. What’s going on? And yes I know something is up.”

“Well, it’s just that, when it started I thought it was great but now…”

“Now?” Hobi said as he leaned in more to pay attention as much as he could.

“Now I feel like I’m just sleeping with a shell. We don’t hate each other or anything. We just don’t go on dates or cuddle and it’s because he’s busy. I don’t want to be a brat about it. So… I’m just trying to be supportive.” As you stare at the people listening to you, you know you have to make it sound as good as possible. “But SeoJun will be back to normal I’m sure of I-“

“No. No. No…What do you mean you don’t go on dates? Isn’t he off every weekend? just like you.” Jimin did not look happy as the words poured from his mouth. You get it. You’re Jimin’s younger sister so for him, this is personal.

“Exactly, Who doesn’t take a hot girl like you on a date whenever they can?” Hobi asked as he chomped down on his fries in front of him. Jimin would have said something to his friend, but he’s been dealing with having a baby sister everyone likes forever. Plus, it’s Hobi. He’s what Jungkook is to you, to Jimin- minus the whole ‘madly in love with each other’ thing. Really good childhood friends.

“Guys, he is just really busy. That’s why.” You don’t even know why you’re defending him but again, it’s routine at this point.

“Busy doing what?” Hobi questioned.

“I don’t know. Work or something. He just says don’t wait up. And I don’t. No hard feelings, yanno?” As you went to reach for your drink. You noticed Jimin had already pulled it away from you.

“When’s the last time you slept on a couch ?” Jimin asked angrily. Jimin just like Jungkook, sometimes didn’t hold back. Today was one of those days.

“Jimin!” You raised your voice slightly and snatched your drink back.

“The fucking couch??!” Hobi just gave you that look he always gives Jungkook when he is being ..well when Jungkook is being himself, but you know when you get that look-He’s shaming you.

“Hobi, it’s not me who usually takes the couch, I don’t take it all the time. I took the couch like 4 times.” You couldn’t even make eye contact with them. It’s probably been double but you’re the type to remove yourself if he won’t. You hate yelling. It isn’t effective communication, but neither is the couch so you’re not sure why you just scaled it down like that. You just don’t want to worry your brother and Hobi.

“Shouldn’t be dating a dumbass who would have you there instead of himself.” Jimin just wouldn’t let up. You knew it came from a good place, so you redirected the conversation.

“Guys, let’s just continue shopping okay..” you asked but somewhat told them so that they backed off. Seems they both got the hint.

“Thanks again for inviting me guys. I needed some outside time, oh and I’ll drive next time!” You say as Hobi gives you a thumbs up.

“I’m walking you to the door, Come on.” Jimin must want to talk. You loathe when he does this. A Jimin lecture for you is worse than him yelling at you because this means he’s absolutely right about something and he knows that you know it too.

Once you have arrived at your door, you feel Jimin staring into the back of your skull. In his defense-You’re a big part of his heart. A sister and a best friend. One who always cares about people, and expects nothing in return. You’re pure that way. So watching you be okay with this just isn’t, and hasn’t been sitting well with him. He’s tried not to get involved because he understands his baby sister, isn’t a baby. But this is getting out of hand.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to out your business ____ but you have got to stop letting him treat you like this. Even if some people don’t know. I do, Hobi knows, hell even Yoongi asks if you’re still together and why. You know he doesn’t like to pry. That should say something on it owns. You know who else knows? that person you keep dodging. Maybe texting him would do you some good. You know Jungkook has wanted nothing more than you happy his whole life. ” Jimin said, his face extremely serious. Why is he acting like you don’t know this already?

“Jimin, SeoJun is trying. I promise.” You exhaled and put your hand on his shoulder. Youre not doing good with your attempt at reassuring him. You can tell.

“No, he isn’t. If he was explain to me why today- a Saturday- he couldn’t spend time with you. Does he usually work Saturdays? Because this seems new to me. You know Namjoon works at the same office as him? No one is there today but magically he is. I know you may not want to be with Jungkook anymore or gave up on your crush. We know it sucks, and life takes us in different directions - but at least find someone who treats you closely to how he does. You deserve it. I love you.” He said as he planted a kiss on your forehead.

You nod and hug him and as he makes his way back down the stairs he makes sure he yells “Text him!”

“Love you too chim.” You sighed as you unlocked your apartment door.

Maybe you should go check on Seojun, he could be under a lot of stress and you’re sure with the way you two have been bickering it’s not helping. Maybe you play a bigger role in this than you think you do.

You decided on bringing him some food, checking the time to see that it was 2:45. If you start now you could have his food to him by 4:00, which is still a good time.

As you pack the Tupperware with all the food you’ve made, you end up taking time to check social media before heading out.

Jungkook posted a picture of his video game screen. That was it. You check in every time you get a chance. Just to see that he is well. Maybe Jimin and Hobi are right, Just text him, he didn’t even do anything wrong. Your boyfriend is just insecure about you and Jungkook’s friendship, but surely he didn’t deserve to be ghosted. Especially when you would rather be with him anyway. You would have told your brother and friend this earlier while out, but you just couldn’t.

You grabbed your keys and headed to your car. The drive to his workplace felt unfamiliar. Has it really been that long? The question Jimin asked earlier still burning in your mind. When would he make time for you? Why is he working on a Saturday? You had way too many thoughts about him at this moment- all of them unsettling.

Finally, you arrived at your destination -SeoJun’s office. you can’t help but smile seeing more than one car. Maybe Jimin was wrong. He could really just need to catch up on work.

You approached the door, entered your boyfriend’s entry code, and walked towards the elevator. with each ting of the elevator, you felt a bit more excitement. Seojun hopefully would be happy to see you too. That would motivate you to try to do this more often, you thought to yourself. That would motivate you to put more into falling in love with him again.

The elevator finally stops on his floor, and your feet lead you closer to his office space. From where you’re standing, The door looks cracked which is different for him. He’s always been the type to need absolute silence and space, but then again there’s just one other person here.

Wait a minute… Is that moaning?

He does say he works with interesing people, but porn at work is just absurd. There’s no way anyone could be that bold. Insanity…

exhaling deeply, calming yourself, and continuing walking. Just to see your worst fear once you approached the door.

“Right there… seojun!”

Is that his assistant ??

The same one he allegedly fired MONTHS AGO. The same one who you told him was mean and wouldn’t allow you entry before saying “Seojun wouldn’t be with anyone like you.” The reason you had even been given the entry code incase she gave you attitude It all made sense. The late nights at work were simply not late nights at work. They were late-nights spent cheating. All the times you waited up, because you were trying to save your relationship. How the fuck could he do this to you? He even wore the blazer you purchased for him when he first got employed to work this morning. What about you? What were you doing wrong? Matterfact, Why the fuck are you blaming yourself?

You dropped the food in your hand as your tears began to well up. So much for Saturday’s at work, So much for trying on your end. Scratch what you said earlier, Seojun is a bad person. You needed to get out of here and so you turned kicking the food as you did, hearing your partner’s mistake speak once last time while you hurried and moved from his sight line.

“Is someone in the office Seojun?” Her voice irritating the life out of you.

“It’s probably just the janitor and it’ll make him think twice before looking at my girl if he see’s me fucking her. Won’t it?” you could hear the chuckle underneath his voice.

HIS GIRL?!! Where is she when he doesn’t feel good and starts acting like a damn toddler? She doesn’t wake up early on Mondays to iron his clothes and prep his food like you do. Has she met his mother and had to deal with her bullshit? That woman is a drag. Staying with him is a drag. All the things you’ve endured..for this. For nothing.

His girl…that’s the last thing you heard, and It fucking sucked that everyone was right about him.

As you stepped into the elevator your tears just wouldn’t stop flowing down. Maybe it’s because you know you’ve been playing happy for no reason. To be betrayed. He didn’t have one bit of decency about it either. He could have broken up with you by now…how could he continue to watch you try and make you feel like you weren’t good enough just to do this to you?

You need a hug.

You need Jungkook.

You made your way back to your car, unlocked it, and put your phone on hands-free to dial Jungkook’s number. Except he didn’t answer. You have done it this time. Ignoring the one person who cares about you for what? Seojun?

You finally reached your house and put your keys on the kitchen counter. You walked further inside to wash your tear-stained cheeks, and that’s when you heard a specific ringtone come through.

My #1 🥳🩶 : Did you really call? Did you like the flowers? Do you still hate me? For whatever reason you hate me? Without explaining? Were you calling to curse me out and finally tell me why? because I’m not ready for that. You’re kind of scary when you’re angry. I love you tho. I miss you. Im sorry for whatever i did

You hadn’t replied in over two weeks, you deserved however many questions he asked at this point

You couldn’t help but smile as you felt tears welling up, yet again. He is your superhero, you know you shouldn’t have ignored him.

Then your phone began to ring. “No, I don’t hate you. No you didn’t do anything !” You yelled as fast as you could. Jungkook needed to know he wasn’t the problem. You made sure you told people when things weren’t their fault. Unlike someone you know you don’t mind letting people know things aren’t their fault .

“Good, that’s literally the one thing in life that would destroy me!” Jungkook’s smile and calmness can be felt through a phone. That’s also something you love so much about him.

“What? Someone hating you?”

“No- you hating me. I couldn’t live with myself like that.”

“I’ll never hate you, and I never hated you. Can I come over? I know I owe you an apology”

“Of course, you used to live here. You used to pop up randomly too. You don’t have to ask.” His sweet soothing voice spoke through the phone.

“I never know if you could have company or anything and I-“

“I’d make them leave even if I did…” He said cutting you off. “You’re more important to me.”

There goes your heart doing somersaults.

“I’m sorry kookie, I shouldn’t have just ignored you for two weeks.”

“You drove me insane, I’ll admit it but I’m just really fucking happy to hear your voice. Bring a bathing suit. Let’s have food, watch some bad documentaries, and swim in the hot tub. Like we used to.”

Another thing about Jungkook that’s so special. That sheer excitement to be bored with you as opposed to being bored alone.

“Can I stay the night?” You ask, not knowing you have just made Jungkook’s heart flutter 10X the speed it does on a normal day

“Yes of course ___ ! Bam is gonna be so excited! We will see you when you get here, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You say back and then you hear the line disconnect.

Once you’re done packing your stuff, you make sure to grab the gift you bought him earlier and head to Jungkook’s for the night. You contemplate texting Seojun but decide not to. He just shouldn’t be in the way. He shouldn’t be in your way any longer.

The drive felt like forever as you tried to keep your composure but every red light felt like more time to think about what you saw, and with that comes realizing although the cheating hurts and feels like hell- nothing feels worse than the fact for the last two weeks, 14 whole days you put Jungkook on the back burner. All because Seojun asked you to. You listened to everything he said without considering yourself- just to walk in on him fucking someone else. You also start thinking about how you fell in love with the idea of him. You have been denying your happiness for someone who was pretending to be the hardest worker of the year. Probably presented himself as single to his coworkers besides Namjoon, who would have told your brother. Sneaking behind your back for that relationship with his little personal assistant Emma the whole fucking time. -Personal assistant my foot!

You finally reach Jungkook’s place and walk to the door of the penthouse, entering the passcode- it’s still your birthday for the code. Jungkook always said he chooses things he likes as passcodes, no matter how silly you told him it was.

The door opens and you hear barking, meaning you need to get a treat for someone else you’ve been neglecting. Bam immediately found you as soon as you reached for one but instead of trying to get to the treat he just whined at your feet. You’ve been a bad friend to him too.

“Hey hey, I’m sorry boy! I didn’t think about how this would be for you. How is my favorite dog!?” You said squatting down to pet his head and behind his ears.

“Geez and here I thought you came over for me…What the hell are your eyes so red for?” Jungkook said tilting his head.

You swallowed and shook your head no. So, he held out his arms. “Come here princess, what happened?” He asked once more.

“He’s a fucking cheater, and the worst part is- I didn’t confront him.” You said as you let Jungkook wrap his arms around you. You’ve missed his warmth not just physically but his aura. He’s your sunlight in a sense.

“Fuck, that’s rough. I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to cheer you up today. Today you’re the only person who matters, not him, not whoever he was cheating with. You want to talk about it?”

You nodded your head yes “Let me change first, You said we were getting in the hot tub?”

He nodded once more and kissed your forehead. Why does it always feel so good when he does that?

Once you’ve finished changing, You pet Bam one more time and make your way outside. Jungkook is shirtless in front of the grill cooking what smells like the most delicious meat ever. You realize you’ve missed coming here after a long day of work and watching movies with him. You’ve missed someone even taking the time out of their day to do something for you.

“Steak, Ramyun, veggies, and Highballs!” He says grinning at you.

“You are the cutest person alive.” You mumble. Not knowing Jungkook heard that too and he hurriedly turned around so you didn’t see him blush.

He closes the top of the grill as the meat cooks climbs onto the bench surrounding the hot tub, and looks directly into your eyes.

“You wanted to talk, and Therapist JK is here to listen!” He says

As you start to recap the events of your day with Jungkook, He feels absolutely horrible. How could he have not been there to protect you? What person cheats on you anyway? Seojun is a fucking dumbass.

“..And the worst part is too, I tried even when I Knew I was falling out of love with him because I just couldn’t see myself giving up on him. I’m such a dummy.”

“You’re not dumb for trying to see the good in someone, maybe the act of looking for something that doesn’t exist in him was dumb- seeing it in him of all people. You know I never liked him - but you’re not dumb.” He says and takes a sip of his drink and you do the same.

“Why are you being such a good friend to me?” You ask.

“Because I always want to be good to you. Even if you ignore me,” then gets up to check on the meat he prepared.

You and Jungkook have been outside for hours just talking and watching the sun go down til he decided you should actually get in the hot tub.

“The water feels so nice. Relaxing. Why would I ever have moved away when you got this damn hot tub?” You ask and look at him through your half-lidded eyes. The highballs slightly affecting you

“The hot tub should be the last reason you want to stay here..”

Jungkook pulled you by your arm closer to him and you wrapped your arms around his neck due to the speed in which he did. This wasn’t unusual just because Jungkook has always been touchy with you, but there’s so much tension.

“Oh yeah, Bam should be reason number one. You’re right.” You giggle and Jungkook just smiles. He loves the sound of your laugh. He always knew how to get one out of you too. That made him feel really good about himself, Every time he hears it, he swears he wants to reach into his chest and hand you his heart, that still wouldn’t stop it from beating for you.

“Say I’m reason number one.” He says looking at you and you shake your head no and try to move away but he repeats himself. This time slower.

“_____…Say, I’m reason number one.” He is piercing through your soul with that gaze of his. So you do what he asks and tell him the truth.

“You’re number one.” Which causes his frown to turn into the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen. The little bit of light that has decided to shine hits his lip piercing. Who made him so pretty? Why the hell are you staring so hard at him? You know why but usually you would be able to look away, and right now it feels like you can’t. He isn’t holding onto you anymore but you feel stuck. He’s so…cute.

“Let’s drink some more!” You say and he nods.

“A little more but not too much more, The last time we got drunk bam probably wished he was human to tell us to stop laughing so loud.” He smiles at you, a slight little nose scrunch. God, you really wish he would stop doing that.

“Hey since you’re my number 1 reason, can you play some music for us?” You ask and he nods

“As long as I’m your number one, you can have whatever you like.” You can’t help but chuckle. Only if Jungkook knew what he was doing when he said stuff like this.

“You look like you’re foaming at the mouth,” he says to you as he sits across from you on the outside furniture. You’re now wearing his t-shirt over your bathing suit since the air is a little chillier. Jungkook cuts up extra meat since he’s taken notice of how hungry you look.

“Hobi ate most of the fries earlier.” You say

You should see yourself, a little tipsy, in his tee, face a little puffy and reddened because you’ve been drinking.

Jungkook thinks you’re cute.

“Eat as much as you want, I was just playing anyway.” He pushess a plate to you.

You smile and continue to make small talk until you ask him a question he didn’t see coming.

“Kook? How do I confront him ?”

Jungkook isn’t a violent guy, he swears! He tries his best not to resort to physical violence, but when you ask him this and he thinks about how red your eyes were when you walked in…the love of his life crying her eyes out, he simply states…

“You let me beat the fuck out of him.” As stone cold as can be.

You giggle “That is so mean! Seriously Kookie, help me?”

He raises an eyebrow “I’m not fucking joking.” His tone is more stern and serious than before, making you stop the slurping of your food and look at him.

“Kook..I’m not worth you fighting someone.” You try and argue.

“You’re right, you’re worth more than that. Which Is why you should let me beat the fuck out of him.” You don’t know why but it’s kinda hot watching Jungkook feel the need to protect you like this. Always has been.

For some reason, your mouth closes and you have nothing else to say. you try and think of a way to break the silence but nothing comes out.

“Can I ask you something that’s been weighing on me?” He asks looking at you from his side of the table.

“Sure. Anything. “ you say and reach for the highball.. but yet again today, someone has snatched your drink before you can even bring it to your mouth.seriously? Whats with everyone today?

“Didn’t you think that bam and I missed you? I know I’ve seen and heard from you, but you used to live here, why don’t you visit as much? And why did you ghost me for two weeks? You drove me insane. I know I said I was over it but it just…it just didn’t feel good.”

You swallow and it feels like the tension in the air has reached an all-time high.

“He doesn’t like the idea of me being here for too long. I don’t know …he was complaining and I thought I was fixing it.” You say looking down at your lap.

Jungkook is trying to remain cool but that just struck a nerve. He’s been here through everything. How could you do something like that? Instead, he asks another question.

“Do you miss living here____? You should move back” Your eyes meet his and you chuckle.

“He wouldn’t like that either, plus I haven’t even confronted -.”

“Stop,” he says and you drop your utensils onto your plate and look at him. He looks serious…Jungkook is pissed. You know it. You know that face anywhere.

“Stop what?”

“Defending or redirecting when we all mention him. It’s annoying as fuck actually. You caught him cheating on you today. Stop defending him and just …just answer my damn question.”

Ouch.

“Jungkook please don’t..”

“Don’t what?” He questions you as he sits back folding his arms. Then he decides to continue. “ If he is cheating on someone as beautiful as you, He’s the biggest fucking idiot in the world. I’d never do anything that dumb.”

Maybe he has had too many highballs.

“Duh Kookie! You’re not an idiot.” You say as you try to play it off.

“Stop playing dumb and Move back in.” He states and you can tell he wants you to but…

“Kook I can’t. That wouldn’t be something he would like. I told you already.”

“What do you like?” He’s really catching an attitude with you right now. You thought this night was going to be confrontation-free besides your apology, but you also know Jungkook hates being ignored. You did this to yourself.

He starts biting his inner cheek waiting for you to answer. So you decide to look up and question him instead.“Damn Jungkook, Why does this feel like an interview?”

You know that wasn’t fair, but Jungkook won’t let you escape. He’s made it clear he is the one asking the questions and getting answers tonight.

“Just because he suggested it doesn’t mean you have to do everything he fucking says. I miss when you were okay with being yourself. You’re prettier that way.” Jungkook sighed as he sipped the highball in his right hand. He still isn’t raising his voice either. He just won’t budge.

“I am okay with being myself!” You retorted.

Why is he so ballsy tonight?

“Nope. Lately…you aren’t. I haven’t seen you act on a single thing in that damn brain of yours in like 6 months. Especially if that dumbass of yours has a say.”

“Jeon Jungkook…you’re pushing it.”

“What? Mad someone is honest with you? I used to be able to do that.” He inched closer into your space and started to read your face. You knew he was right. So did he.

“How the fuck would you know what I’m thinking anyway?”

“I’ve known you your whole life. Why the fuck wouldn’t I know? You’ve also been eye-fucking me this whole time, In case you’re wondering what else I know. If it makes you feel better I wanna fuck you too. Really. Fucking. Bad. ” he said, taking another sip of his drink, raising his eyebrow and smirking.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

“Stop choosing someone else when we both can choose each other. “ he continues.

“Jungkook I’m sorry but I don’t want to fight with you. I’ll just go. At least the fights at home, I know what I’m expecting.” Your breathing eratic because of how bold he is being. You stand to get up but Jungkook rushes to block the door that leads back inside the condo.

“You are home. ”

“Jungkook…” you say as you search his eyes.

“I’ll let you leave if that’s what you really want, I am not, however letting you leave this late, this dark, into the arms of a fucking cheater when I’ve been right here this whole fucking time!” He snaps some more at you looking into your eyes.

“You’re so..” You can’t even figure out where to begin. You know he is right…wait he’s been here the whole time. He is right.

“Fuck this.” He says and leans his head back. You watch his Adam’s apple bob and then when he looks back down at you, his tongue poking his cheek.

“Jungkook I’m sorry.” You reach to grab his face but he just uses his right arm to pin your arm above your head still holding you against the door.

“Nuh-uh. Tell me what you want.” He presses on and you damn near melt when he licks his lips and tilts his head while waiting on your response.

“You..” You finally say. Your eyes are glossy as you search hiss and since he hasn’t said anything, even though it’s only been a few seconds since you revealed the truth, You continue.

“I will never want anyone as much as you and I shouldn’t have even left. You’re right! You’re right! I’m so fucking sorry-“

Before you can even finish your apology, Jungkook lets your arm drop that he has been holding and places his hand on your neck bringing you closer to him and his lips envelope yours. So soft. So gentle but needy. Why do you feel like you’re on fire right now? As his tongue begs for entrance and you oblige, he pulls away just to say one thing to you.

“Thank you for apologizing. Now, let me show you how much I love you. ”

Jungkook never imagined your lips would be this soft. He’s thought about it, but this was better than any analogy his brain has come up with. This is better than any kiss he has had his whole life, it’s the same for you. This is what it’s like when it’s the right person.

All your moans and hums into his mouth that he desperately swallows. You’re perfect for each other. You feel it throughout his kisses.

“Jump.” He says

So you do. Wrapping your legs around his waist as he leads you into his condo.

“Say you’re coming home, and say you want me.” He won’t take no for an answer and you’ve confessed so you’re not really in a position to lie to him.

“I’m coming home, and I want you kook. Really. Fucking. Bad.”

He chuckles and kisses you some more. “ You definitely didn’t deny the eye fucking.” He says and you pull away.

“Take me to your room , and actually do it.” You whisper against his ear.

Soon you feel Jungkook placing you on his bed. The way he looks at you makes your heart stop, but you like it as much as you like him. You’re really in love with him.

Jungkook joins you. Climbing his way up to you. Watching your chest rise and fall, as you both stare into each other’s eyes. He wouldn’t want anyone more than you. He never has. You open your mouth slightly and Jungkook tilts his head in concern.

“I want you.” Your voice, barely a whimper.

He smiles slightly before saying “Took you long enough, I’d make you beg…but I want you too.” The way he has been so confident all night has been leaving you soaked. He resumes his assault on your lips, then makes his way down to your neck, finding your sweet spot.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” You moan out and he slides his hands up the borrowed tee that you have on. He makes a mental note to give you whatever it is of his you want, the shirt, him, he likes the way they both look on you.

You sit up slightly to help him remove it. He looks at you one more time asking for permission. “Touch me.” You say and that drives him mad. The way you sound for him- so needy.

Jungkook is quick to start kissing your collarbone and undoing your bathing suit top at the same time.

You’re not sure why you feel so nervous and vulnerable, but maybe it’s because his touch has you completely drenched and you’re trying not to make it obvious.

He grabs one of your breasts in his hand and brings his mouth to it, sucking and licking it over and over. His teeth lightly grazing every now and then just before he lets them go with a pop. You could cum from this alone, you’re sure especially when he looks up at you the way he is right now.

“By the time I’m done with you, you would have been convinced to stay anyway.” He says kissing your lower belly. You moan out and suddenly feel his fingers at your hips. He places kisses on each side as he begins to slide your bottoms down your legs, and sits on his knees to make sure they come off completely.

You can barely breathe at a normal rate. Everything he is doing is so effortlessly sexy. You feel a little shy just because it’s something you’ve always dreamed of. it’s been a while since you’ve been intimate with anyone. Your relationship eventually deprived you of that too, due to you both barely sleeping in the same room. You try to close your legs, but he is holding your ankle. He takes his time kissing his way from there up to your thigh.

“Don’t hide from me. I won’t hurt you, I’m here with you. Okay?” He says and you nod, smiling at him.

Jungkook is thorough in making sure not a space on your skin feels neglected, your moans and breathy exhales indicate that you’re enjoying this and getting worked up.

His fingers gently work up toward the area that craves him most and he parts your folds, then licks his lips, turning you on even more.

“Fucking hell___, Your pussy is so pretty.” He moans and gently starts rubbing circular motions on your clit.

“Kook, do something. I’m so wet.” You speak honestly and he has to stop himself from fucking the life out of you right there. He removes his hand and brings the finger that was circling your clit to your lips.

“Suck.”

You wrap your lips around his fingers and make sure to look in his eye as he is now slightly hovering over you, between your legs.

Jungkook’s mouth has fallen into an O shape and you hear him moan for the first time besides your kisses. The way you suck his fingers, He’ll be sure to have your lips wrap around something else, not today though. He wants to make sure you feel what he means when he says “I love you.”

He removes his finger and bites his lip then brings it back down to your clit and resumes his circular motions.

“Kook please do something. You’re teasing me.”

“Enjoying my view, that’s all. Trust me…I’m going to fuck the shit out of you.”

He slides a finger in and you moan as he bends down to kiss you.

“Can you take another?” He asks in between kisses.

You nod and pull away from his lips as the other one is inserted. “I can take whatever you give me, whenever you give it to me.”

You’re driving him insane. Voice so sweet but eyes gazing at him with lust.

“I want you to look at me the entire time.” He says as he removes his lips from yours and hears you moan out.

You don’t answer so he pushes his fingers deeply inside. “Yes. Fuck!” You moan out and he chuckles as he crawls lower onto his stomach, lifting your legs on each of his shoulders. Still managing to pump into you.

. Jungkook removes his fingers, replacing them with his tongue to taste your juices, then flattens his tongue while his eyes roll back. He looks so pornographic and then he makes eye contact with you. His eyes are sexy and smoldering.

“Jungkook! Oh my god!” You moan out. He loves the way his name sounds coming from you. He loves that he’s making you feel good. He loves everything about you.

He begins flicking his tongue up and down your clit, open mouth kissing you in between. He takes his time fucking his tongue into you, watching you grasp at the bed sheets as you try to keep your focus on him. The way your eyes roll back when he rubs his face in it as he eats you out looks so good to him. He feels drunk off of you. You briefly close your eyes as you moan, but that’s when he inserts two fingers again and you both moan. Him because of how you taste and how you are doing so well for him. You, because of how full you feel, How amazing this feels for you. You know you’re close and Jungkook seems to know too. He curls his fingers and rubs you right in the spot that’ll have you coming undone, then he starts spelling his name with this tongue on your clit as your prop up on your elbows still looking at him, like he said. The pleasure becoming so much.

“Such a good fucking girl.” He says and you feel your breath hitch.

“Oh fuck! Jungkook I’m gonna cum!” You moan out and your head falls back, causing Jungkook to pinch at your waist with his other hand, to get you to look at him.

“Cum for me then.”

And you do, making a mess all over his hands. You’re so fucking pretty to him, that he doesn’t stop there. He keeps going enjoying the way look so fucked out. You sound sweet too. He wants to see you like this for him, only him, as long as he can. He’ll make sure it’s forever by the time he’s done.

Jungkook continues eating you out and watching your legs shake and quiver. Your mouth is slack and you’re saying things, but they all are pretty incoherent due to all the moaning you’re doing in between. This is exactly what you’ve wanted, better than you’ve imagined.

“Kook.. I’m gonna cum again. You have to stop. I want you to feel good too.” You say between your moans.

“I’m worried about you baby. You just need to let me worry about you.” He responds.

The pet name sending you over the edge as you feel a ton of pressure in your pit, you can feel your release coming.

“Oh, my J-Jungkook!” You have to stop moaning his name like that. He’s been trying his best not to split you open and take his time with you. He remains as patient as he can as he feels how close he has you again. He pumps the fingers he has in you just a little faster, as you squirt all over him. You can’t believe how turned on it makes him. His lips slightly opening

“Damn, thats so fucking sexy.” He says as he makes sure to pull his fingers out and slide his fingers into his mouth.

“You taste. So. Fucking. Good. “ he says as he moans while cleaning your juices off his hand. Looking at you before his brows furrow and his eye roll again. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Kookie. Lay down. It’s my turn.” You try but He shakes his head no as he props himself on his knees.

“Help me with my shorts, then lay your ass back down. I’m not in the mood for you to be defiant about it either. I keep telling you it’s about you.”

Oh. He’s that type in bed. You’ve hit the jackpot.

You follow the instructions given to you and help undo the strings on his shorts, then you lay back down. What you don’t expect is for him to be that big. You easily could tell he was a nice size but not this big.

“Holy fuck.” You say and he chuckles. he strokes himself in his hand. He was easily the biggest you’ve seen. Both in length and thickness. The tip of him, so red, swollen, and plump. His Head falls back just a little before he shoots his eyes back at yours.

“But you can take it, right baby? You said you can take whatever I give you.” He says as spreads the pre cum around his head.

You nod your head, yes and he smirks.

“Good.” He spits on your pussy and then decides to reach toward his drawer but you catch his hand.

“I trust you. I want to feel you. All of you.” You look up at him through your lashes as you say and he nods.

He kisses you and whispers against your lips. “If it’s too much say something.”

You shake your head no. “No, I told you I could take it all.”

He lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes in. You both moan at the contact.

“You’re so fucking tight. Jesus baby.” He says as he bites his lip, inching further into you.

“Jungkook, more. ” You moan out and you both make eye contact. He kisses your forehead and then you lean up a little for a kiss. He obliges and slides further into you. He’s finally in. You fit so snugly around him, you’re so wet and warm too.

Jungkook cups your face and looks into your eyes as he starts bottoming out of you. Missionary was a great choice he thinks to himself. You’re so beautiful underneath him. You love the way he looks at you. He moves some hair out of your face and whispers.

“I choose you. I chose you so long ago,” As he pumps into you. Jungkook looks slightly down and can also see himself. Your tummy bulging as he pumps into you. You can’t believe it either. He’s so thick and long. Reaching places you’ve never been touched before.

“Look at how well this pussy is taking me.” He says eyes blown out and piercing between his teeth as he bites on his lip.

You’re a moaning mess underneath him, but you look into his eyes and pull his face to yours for a kiss. He feels so good inside you. Your walls contract whenever he slides out slightly. He loves every part of you and you love every part of him.

“Kook you make me feel so good.” You say moaning more into the kisses you’ve both been stealing.

“Good, that’s what I want, for you to feel good.” He continues pumping in and out but he leans up from the kiss and pushes your knees to your shoulders as he continues to pump into you.

“Just. Like. that.” You say as your arms reach for his bicep. He loves how well you take him. You love how deep and passionate each thrust is.

Jungkook watches as you cream all over him, he knows he won’t last long with the way you’ve been moaning his name. He needs to make you cum again first, it’s easily the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.

You motion him back down to you and he smirks. “Can’t stop kissing me?”

You nod your head no. “I can’t. Your right…Oh fuck! Please don’t stop.” You moan the last part out.

“I won’t, not until this pretty pussy cums for me again.” He makes sure you understand and kisses you, just like you want.

You start to feel that familiar buildup in your stomach and moan his name some more, you’ve damn near been chanting it now.

“You’re close.” He says and you nod.

“Then be a good girl, and make a mess on this dick. It’s yours anyway.” The statement has you whimpering and Jungkook starts circling his thumb on your clit as he pumps in and out of you.

That’s when you break and he watches everything ooze out of you onto him. You have cum three times. That’s a record you think to yourself -and he still has to cum.

“You think you can be a good girl one last time and cum with me ?” He asks.

Jungkook is going to be the death of you, but you nod yes. You just want to make him feel good too. He’s been praising you and giving you ownership this whole time. Of course, you can be a good girl for him.

Jungkook starts going a little harder with each roll of his hips. It’s still slow and sensual, just deeper-you’re not sure how he’s even managing to do that.

“ Yes, oh my god. Jungkook.”

He chuckles. You’re so cute. Taking him like he’s always wanted.

Your cum slicked walls are tight and clenching him perfectly. just about send him over the edge. He leans into your ear and whispers “Ready?” You shake your head fast.

“Yes baby, I’m ready.” You say. Jungkook just heard you return the pet name he’s been calling you. You’re in absolute heaven, creaming his dick, slightly running down his thighs.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” He asks and you moan out your answer.

“You!! Kook please… cum with me.” You moan out every single word.

That’s when you feel both your orgasms collide and kiss some more. Jungkook makes sure to watch you as he pumps more, you both ride out your highs.

Then he collapses beside you pulling you into his chest.

“That was so good, that’s the best sex I’ve ever had.”you say and he smirks.

“Yeah, it was. Let me get you cleaned up and get new sheets.” He says kissing your lips one more time

You spent the rest of the night asleep on his chest, but when you wake up Jungkook is missing-that’s when you smell breakfast. Just like you remember. You go brush your teeth and wash your face seeing the gift you were supposed to hand to him in your bag. You make a mental note to give it to him this morning. once you’re finished, you then walk out to a shirtless Jungkook flipping pancakes and smiling at you.

“HI.” He says and you see Bam walking over to you.

“Good morning to you both!” You say patting Bam on the head and walking over to the person preparing breakfast.

“I got you a gift.” You say and he raises an eyebrow. You slide it across the counter and he immediately smiles when he unwraps it.

His smile says enough. He loves it. You know he does.

“You have perfect timing, I think I broke the one I’m currently using! Thank you, princess.”

“You’re so welcome, I’m really sorry about how I treated you. Plus this reminded me of you,” you reply and then you get up to stand with him.

He winks at you. It’s nice to know he was on your mind. You promise to tell him every time he is now. He’s a priority and you want him to know that.

“Listen, we should talk so just listen to me.” He says as he watches you wrap your arms around him from behind, but he turns around facing you.

“I think Jimin, Joon, and Hobi can go get your stuff from your apartment but I want to tell you the truth. After last night, I can’t keep being your friend. I want you to know I meant every word about loving you and no- you don’t have to say it back but let me prove it to you ____ because you deserve more than your getting at h-“

You realize, It’s now your turn to cut him off and you hurry and put your lips on his to kiss him.

“Jeon Jungkook, I love you too. After last night, I don’t want to be your friend either.”

“So...Can I be your boyfriend?” He asks you and you nod your head yes so fast earning a laugh, as he leans down to kiss you.

He smiles at you and wraps his mouth around yours. Your arms around his neck as he explores your mouth.

“ Breakfast in bed?” You question and he immediately picks up on what you mean.

Jungkook pulls you closer, then whispers on your lips “After last night...

Anything you want."

Author's Note: This definitely went in a different direction than planned, but I just want to say thank you so much for reading, all feedback is welcome! I may start a Drabble series for this couple, so stay tuned.

Taglist:@kimber-koo @taesungx @jennafromhome @diorh0seokie @joyfulwobblerhoagiee

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fic #bts #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader

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sanasyndrome · 2 months ago

Text

(3)—"LOVE ME LATER"

!MEN DNI!

pair: uchinaga aeri x f!reader (ft. ning yizhou)

cw: nothing much just swearing. this is SMAU!

sypnosis: uchinaga aeri has been inlove with her best friend, y/n, for years. she was planning to confess until ning yizhou came in the picture and ruined her plan. now that they've broken up, will she gather enough courage to confess to y/n before they get back together, or will she keep quiet and lose her chance?

a/n: not proofread so forgive me if there are any mistakes. !!don't mind the timestamps!!

masterlist | prev | next

“I’ll see you later,” aeri stated, tucking a stray strand of hair behind y/n's ear, earning a small, appreciative hum from the other girl, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“see you,” she replied, turning on her heel to face the half-filled classroom. muffled conversations surrounded her as she walked in, muttering under her breath about how draining mondays always seemed to be.

y/n sat in her usual seat, barely paying attention as the class progressed. the professor’s voice droned in the background as her mind wandered, absentmindedly doodling on her notebook’s margins. at the end of the lesson, seeing as they had more than enough time left, the professor cleared his throat, signaling that he had something important to share.

“alright class. since we still have some time, I figured this would be a good opportunity to announce our semester-long project.” y/n silently groaned. monday was already exhausting by itself and now there was an added burden.

“you'll be working in pairs for this one. collaboration is key, so get to know your partner and make a plan together soon. I don't want to hear any complaints,” he added, glancing around the room to make sure everyone was listening. y/n sighed, her mind beginning to drift again as he began to read through the list of pairs.

initially, y/n didn't think much of it and brushed it off. it was just some lousy project she'll be doing with a random person she'd never talk to or see again after the semester—right? WRONG. because her partner wasn't just a random person, no. it was ning, ning yizhou, her ex.

“l/n? y/n l/n, please raise your hand so your partner can see you.” the professor's voice snapped y/n back in reality. she hesitantly raised her hand, her gaze swept across the room—landing on her ex who was just a few seats away from her. she didn’t even know that ning took this class, let alone attended the same university as her. after a few seconds, she put her hand down as she slumped down on her seat.

after what felt like an eternity, the professor wrapped up the announcements just a second before the bell rang. y/n practically bolted from her seat and out the door—she hasn’t looked this determined to reach her next class before. she did not want to face the girl she spent(or maybe wasted) four years of her life with right now.

NOTE: these are all entirely fictional and fake, created purely for entertainment purposes.

#sanasyndrome #female reader #giselle x reader #aeri uchinaga #aespa #giselle x female reader

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diamonddaze01 · 7 months ago

Note

69. "You know my name?" + chan omg im begging u or ill beat u to it and write it (lol stares at all my wips 💀)

call me by my name

Pairing: lc x f!reader | wc: 971 words prompt: "You know my name?" au: university au! | warnings: none a/n: HANEULLLLL thank u for the ask this was so cute and fun to write i hope you love it <33333

The lecture hall buzzed with the usual pre-class noise—pens tapping against desks, chairs creaking as students settled in, snippets of conversation floating from every direction. The air carried a faint hum of fluorescent lights, blending into the background chaos. You sat at your usual spot in the front row, pen poised and ready, eyes skimming the lecture notes you’d pulled up on your laptop.

Behind you, it was less preparation and more pandemonium.

“Seungkwan, what the fuck! Stop throwing shit at me!”

You didn’t have to look to know it was Soonyoung. His voice carried, loud and incredulous as always.

“That’s not throwing—it’s called handing,” Seungkwan shot back, his words dripping with mock seriousness. “Get some spatial awareness, idiot.”

The sound of a paper airplane slicing through the air followed, landing somewhere near your seat. You glanced down briefly at the crumpled attempt at aerodynamics before looking back at your notes.

“Is that supposed to be a plane or modern art?” another voice chimed in—Chan this time, laughter in his tone.

Turning your head slightly, you caught sight of the trio in their usual seats toward the back. Soonyoung had crossed his arms, glaring at the offending paper in Chan’s hand. Seungkwan was smirking triumphantly, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head.

“Give it here,” Chan said, snatching the airplane and inspecting it with exaggerated care. “Yeah, no. This isn’t a plane. This is, like… a bird that forgot how to fly.”

The paper flew again—this time courtesy of Chan—and barely made it past the second row before nose-diving onto the floor. The resulting laughter spread like wildfire across the room, even prompting a raised eyebrow from Professor Lee, who was just arriving.

“If the three of you could channel even half this energy into engineering,” the professor said, setting down his coffee with a thud, “you might actually pass this class.”

A round of chuckles rippled through the room as Chan held up his hands in mock surrender. “We’ll consider it!”

You shook your head, letting the familiar chaos wash over you. It had been like this all semester—Chan, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung acting as the unofficial class entertainment. Their antics had a way of filling the space, loud enough to distract but not enough to pull you from your work.

Professor Lee called the class to order, his voice steady as he launched into announcements. You settled in, fingers flying over your keyboard as you took notes.

Until he dropped the bomb.

“Alright, folks, listen up,” Professor Lee announced, raising his voice over the chatter. “Big news today—it’s time to kick off your group projects.”

Groans and murmurs spread through the room like wildfire. People immediately started swiveling in their seats, calling out to friends to lock in their groups before anyone got left behind.

You stayed put, as you always did. You’d learned from experience—being the quiet one meant waiting out the storm. Once the dust settled, you’d deal with whatever scraps of a team were left.

“The project is worth thirty percent of your grade,” Professor Lee continued, adjusting his glasses. “So choose wisely.”

“Thirty percent?” someone whispered behind you.

“Yeah, that’s fucked,” another voice muttered.

You ignored them, jotting down the project details from the board. If no one picked you, you’d just work alone—it wasn’t ideal, but you’d survive. Your eyes flicked back to your laptop, but before you could even finish writing down the assignment details, a shadow fell over your desk. You blinked up, startled, only to see Chan grinning down at you, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket.

“Uh, hi?” you said cautiously.

“Wanna be in a group with me and my friends?” He jerked his thumb toward Seungkwan and Soonyoung, who were mid-wrestle over a pencil in the back corner of the room.

Your pen froze mid-word. “You… know my name?”

Chan tilted his head like you’d just asked him if the sky was blue. “Uh, yeah? Considering you’re the one who ruins the curve every time… yes, I know your name.”

Oh.

“But also,” he continued, “you clearly know what you’re doing, and we’d be stupid not to team up with you.”

You blinked, your brain short-circuiting for a moment. “Okay.”

His grin widened, and he gestured for you to follow him.

By the time you reached Seungkwan and Soonyoung, they’d paused their argument and were now watching you with matching mischievous smirks.

“So,” Seungkwan said, leaning closer to Chan, “you actually got her to join us, huh?”

“Guess today’s my lucky day,” Chan muttered, side-eyeing him.

Soonyoung jabbed Seungkwan in the ribs, grinning like an idiot. “Told you he wouldn’t chicken out.”

“Shut up,” Chan hissed, his ears already pink.

But Seungkwan wasn’t done. “You didn’t have to use the whole ‘you ruin the curve’ thing. You could’ve just said, ‘Hey, I think you’re super smart and pretty, and I totally have a crush on you.’”

Chan’s eyes widened as if someone had just slapped him with a textbook. “What the fuck—”

“Or,” Soonyoung added, tapping his chin theatrically, “you could’ve been, like, ‘I sit two rows behind you every day because your hair smells like strawberries.’”

“I do not—”

Seungkwan gasped, fake-shocked. “Oh my God, you’ve smelled her hair?”

Chan groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I hate both of you.”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing, covering your mouth as the trio dissolved into chaos.

“Don’t listen to them,” Chan said quickly, turning back to you with an apologetic look. “They’re dumbasses, but I promise we’ll actually get work done. Eventually.”

You raised an eyebrow, still grinning. “As long as no one brings paper airplanes to the final presentation.”

“See?” Soonyoung crowed. “She’s funny too. You’re screwed, Chan.”

Chan didn’t answer, but the flush creeping up his neck said more than enough.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

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targaryenoceans · 8 months ago

Text

ABOUT A GIRL

modern!aegon targaryen x fem!reader

notes: based on the song about a girl by nirvana. i don’t know what else to say, but enjoy!! also if you have a request i can do it! and should i do a part two?

summary: you were helaena’s best friend, ever since you guys were little. you were basically apart of the family. but then her brother aegon knocks on your door crying.

warning (s): sad boy aegon, alicent is a bad mother in this, reader is in college, so is aegon & helaena. parent issues, it’s pretty wholesome.

masterlist.

You heard banging on your front door, you sat up groggy looking at your phone to see what time it was.

2:23am

you we’re currently home alone, your parents had taken their much needed vacation, away from you? you didn’t know.

you got out of bed, putting on some shorts and walked downstairs as the frantic knocks on the door began louder and louder. you looked into the peep hole and saw a crying aegon, that was odd.

you were his sister’s best friend, helaena ever since elementary school. the targaryens were a very wealthy family, everyone knew that. you used to have a massive crush on aegon until he began not caring about anyone, throwing himself into smoking, girls, and etc.

you were now in college with helaena, you were majoring in music, something you’d loved since you were little.

aegon had majored in business something his mother had forced him into, following in the targaryen family ways.

helaena’s other brother, aemond was a freshman in college, he mostly kept to himself and you didn’t really see much of him. though you’d seen him bring only one girl home, alys rivers. he had lost one of his eyes due to an accident with his nephew which caused that side of the family distance themselves away.

daeron the youngest brother, was still in highschool. you didn’t know much of him as alicent had sent him oldtown with her side of the family.

you didn’t really have a problem with alicent, you knew she was trying her hardest, especially with aegon. she’d constantly yell at aegon for him for slacking off at school, when he should have been focusing on school.

then their father viserys, like daeron you didn’t really know much of him. he’d been sick and isolated for as long as you’d remember, you’d only see him in events or parties the family hosted, but he seemed to look worse each time.

you wouldn’t say you were distant from aegon, yes you tried to distance yourself from him but he seemed to pop up everywhere. the two of you would bond over music, mostly nirvana as that was his favorite band.

you opened the door, “aegon? what are you doing here? are you okay?” you asked him, seeing his tears and how he struggled to breath.

“can i come in?” aegon gasped out, sobbing even more that he saw your face.

“uh-y-yea..” you nodded, you were still half asleep. you let him in, the man nodded.

aegon walked in and shut the door behind him, wiping the tears from his eyes. he was breathing heavily, almost to the point of having a panic attack.

he walked himself to your kitchen, sitting on one of the stools and putting his head into his hands, he was a wreck. you knew it was probably alicent fault, per usual but it was never this bad.

you let out an exhale and followed him to the kitchen, leaning against the counter, staring at him cry into his hands.

“i-im sorry for coming here…i-didn’t know where else to go.” he spoke between sobs, his voice was shaky.

you let out a silent yawn, “no, it’s fine..”

after a few seconds aegon’s sobs quieted down, into sniffs. he looked up at you, his eyes were bloodshot and their were visible signs of tears on his cheeks.

“what happened…” i slowly walked into him, hugging yourself, you hadn’t even realized that you were in a tank top and shorts.

aegon let out an exhale, looking down at his hands, which were picked at: a habit he had gained from alicent, helaena had told you. “i-it’s alicent..she found out…i failed first semester of one of my classes….i-she got mad-and yelled at me..and called me a disappointment to the f-family and i was u-useless..that was i was n-no so-son of her-” he stopped mid sentence, sounding as if he was about to cry again.

“aeg….” you whispered, stepping closer to him.

“it-its….she’s just so fucking mean…” aegon let out a sob again, burying his hands in his face again.

you looked at aegon sobbing again. you were almost going to call helaena but she’d probably be sleeping. you’d never see aegon like this ever. you’d normally want to distance yourself away from him, but you couldn’t: not that he was like this.

you stepped to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “it’s okay….” you rubbed his back, trying to give him comfort that he seemed to long for.

aegon didn’t lift his head up, but his sobs got more louder, he was not used to this comfort, his siblings would try and comfort him but that was different.

the comfort with you, he felt a actual comfort with you, he never admit it but…..he liked it. he didn’t want to go back home, he felt safe with you.

“it’s okay…” you whispered again, this time aegon didn’t care if he overstepped it with you, he hugged you, loosely wrapping his arms around your waist.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

aegon had stayed with you that night, slept in your bed. he’d asked to sleep on the couch, but you denied, you felt bad for him and the both of you slept in your king sized bed. you felt guilty almost, helaena was your best friend but you shared a bed with her troubled brother, whom she’d lost many friends because of him.

you opened your eyes, feeling your phone going off. you picked up your phone and saw helaena calling you, you were looked at the screen before you answered her, you knew that aegon hadn’t come home last night, and they probably were asking around.

“hello?” you asked, your voice filled with sleep.

“hey, mom and aegon had a bad fight last night. he left and isn’t back home..do you know where he is?” helaena’s soft voice spoke out, her voice filled with distress, worried for her sibling.

you stayed silent, helaena knew your silence was her answer, you’d been best friends with her for too many years to count. “he came crying to my door last night…” you told her, you couldn’t lie to your best friend, especially not helaena.

there was a sigh of relief, “he’s there? he’s okay?”

“yea…he’s okay.” you sat up, looking at the man on the bed beside you, his eyes were slightly puffy and red around them.

“mom is worried. she thinks he’s dead in a ditch somewhere….can i talk to him?” helaena asked, her soft softer and less distressed.

“he’s asleep, maybe you should come to my house.” you spoke, getting off the bed, and leaving your bedroom.

“i’ll be there in a few.” helaena spoke and ended the call.

you were left in silence again, walking to the living room and sat on the couch.

after a few minutes there was a knock on the door and it opening, helaena had a key to your house. you stood up and walked to her and hugged her.

“i was worried something bad happened to him.” helaena spoke, her face buried in your morning hair.

“i was worried last night, i’d never seen him so upset.” you pulled back from the hug, looking at her.

“yeah…can we go see him? i assume he’s asleep.” helaena spoke, already walking upstairs to where she assumed he was.

you followed her, the stairs creaking as they walked up it. helaena opened your door and saw aegon still asleep, a little drool falling on your bed.

helaena let out a sigh of relief as she saw him and walked to the side of the bed, she shook his shoulder, “aeg?”

aegon groaned in his sleep, and opened his eyes, his eyes slightly red but better than last night, “hel? why are you here?”

“we were worried, we thought something bad happened to you…” helaena sat on the bed.

“i was fine..” aegon sat up, his shirt twisted from sleeping.

“we called you, texted you, even emailed you!” helaena raised her voice, angry and annoyed at him. you stood from the doorway looking at the both of them.

aegon glanced at you, before looking back at his sister. “my phone was dead.”

helaena let out a huff, before hugging her brother. “don’t you ever run away like that again!”

aegon was a little startled by her hug but, hugged her back, closing his eyes.

you watched the siblings hug, you were happy, helaena was the most caring out of all the siblings. you were just worried about what alicent would do or say to him.

#aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #hotd season 2 #spotify #game of thrones #aegon x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen modern #aegon the elder #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen x you #helaena targaryen x reader

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athenagc94 · 3 months ago

Text

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 19

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

TW: Sexual Tension

First | Prev | Next

Chapter 19

“Four books by the end of the week. Four,” you emphasized as you shouldered through the door that led out of the student center, “And they’re not novellas either. I’m talking easily 600 pages each. It’s like my professors want me to go rogue.”

Second semester came at you hard and fast.

Classes were bound to get harder the further you progressed, but you didn’t expect it to happen this quickly. You could feel the imminent late-night breakdown creeping up, and it was only February.

“If I go rogue, which novel should I base my crimes on?”

Steph sucked her smoothie with dead eyes. If you were at your wit’s end, it was a miracle she was still standing. Pre-med at Gotham University had a reputation of raking its students through the coal. There was a reason half its graduates ended up in Arkham at some point, but you hoped Steph would be the half that came out unscathed.

She smacked her lips. “Anything written by Roald Dahl.”

“Horrifying,” you agreed.

She nodded solemnly. “Honestly, I would respect it. You’d rock the top hat and coat tails. Shit, the Bats might even leave you alone if you do it with enough flair.”

You snorted. Unlikely. “Are you done for the day?”

“I have a lab tonight. I hate that I have another night class, but it was the only course available this semester, and it’s a prerequisite for like everything else. Maybe Tim and Cass had the right idea when they chose to skip going to college.”

“We can’t all be nepo babies with trust funds.”

“Well, I mean.” Steph shot you a knowing look as she sipped her smoothie. “Some of us can reap the benefits of billionaires. How’s Brucie?”

“Brucie?”

“It’s what everyone calls him. He’s Gotham’s favorite himbo.”

You shuddered to think about it. You liked Bruce Wayne in theory. In your mind, he loomed over your head, slightly out of focus with harsh shadows contouring his face. It was easier to stomach than picturing the man who tripped and fell headfirst into a fountain… twice in one night.

“Bruce is doing whatever billionaires do, not that he responds to my letters. I imagine when you have that much money, I’m sure he gets on fine.”

You sent your first letter of the semester a few days ago. It may have come off a little unhinged as you outlined everything your professors asked you to complete, but Bruce couldn’t blame you for being overwhelmed. Between balancing your new schedule, work, and all the homework that came with it, you struggled to stay afloat.

“You could ask him yourself. I’m sure Cass would love to have us over for dinner sometime.”

“Absolutely not.”

You had nothing to show Bruce. No proof that his investment had paid off. Until that day, you were content to maintain this weird boundary that separated him from you.

Steph chuckled. “Just a thought. Did you want to head back to my place and work on some homework before my lab?”

Steph lived near campus. It made going home between classes convenient. You weren’t as lucky. “I’m done with classes for the day, and I have to work another party this evening.”

“We can hang out until you have to leave.”

“I would, but I promised to get there early so I could look over one of my coworker’s assignments.”

After a few gigs with Evan, he brought up his desire to finish high school. You had no idea where it came from, and honestly, you didn’t want to ask for fear of jinxing things. If he wanted to better himself, you weren’t about to squash those ambitions. He even mentioned going out for track in the spring the last time you talked.

Is this how parents felt when they saw their kids succeed?

Did you just consider yourself a parent?

You looked away to hide your horror. That was a secret you’d take to your grave.

“It’ll be easier to head to my place and work there.”

Steph pouted. “When are you not working?”

“Any time before 2 p.m. and after 2 a.m.”

“Lame, but again, I have to respect the hustle,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “Let’s find some time to study next week. My horoscope said that I need to surround myself with friends and family to overcome the hurdles life throws at me.”

“How poetic. What did mine say?”

Steph memorized your astrological chart within the first month of getting to know you. She also read all her friend’s horoscopes too.

“Take a chance and open your heart.”

“Frustratingly vague. I hate it.”

“Maybe, but now you’ll manifest it. Just wait and see.” She winked, lips curving into an impish smile. “I’m gonna head back to my place. Same time next week?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you around.”

You parted ways with a wave and headed toward the gate that led toward the subway station. A glacial wind sliced the air, stinging your skin. You shoved your nose beneath your knit scarf and pressed on, knowing it would be better once you made it below ground.

As you pulled up to the archway that led off campus, you noticed a tall figure leaning against the sleek stone column. His Wonder Woman ball cap hid the streak in his hair, but you knew it was Jacob.

Though it was odd to see him out during the day.

“Well, well. Look who’s out in broad daylight,” you teased as you pulled up next to him, “I always assumed direct sunlight would kill you.”

“Ha, ha. You know I’m not a vampire, right?”

“Obviously not. I watched you devour a box of garlic bread sticks the other night. You give me more of a spooky ghost vibe since you have a habit of appearing and disappearing like one.”

He mumbled under his breath.

You arched an eyebrow. “Come again?”

“I said I’m more like a zombie. It was a bad joke. Forget it. Here.” He shoved the to-go cup in his hand at you, thin wisps of steam curling from its lid. “I had a feeling the start of the semester would be rough, so I thought you could use a little pick me up.”

“You know my drink order?”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I saw an old receipt the last time I was over and, uh, memorized it.”

“I don’t know whether to be creeped out or flattered.”

“The latter, hopefully.”

You sipped the drink, delighted to find it was made exactly how you liked it. “Flattered it is.” You licked your lips. “So, is that the only reason why you’re here? I expected to see you later.”

He fell into step beside you as you headed for the station. “I thought I’d surprise you after class for a change.”

“Is that all?”

“And maybe I didn’t want to wait until later.”

A pleasant zing rippled under your skin. Sometimes he said things that made you want to grab him by the collar and pepper kisses over his scars until he was a blushing mess. You smothered the urge with another sip of your drink. “I was heading back to my place to do some homework before my shift. While it’s not the most exciting afternoon, you’re welcome to join me.”

“There’s enough going on in my life that mundane sounds amazing, especially if I’m with you.”

He made self-restraint difficult.

Together, you headed down the stairs that emptied onto a platform. It was fairly crowded given several class blocks had just let out, students and professors alike huddled between the pillars as they waited for the next train. You stepped closer to Jacob, making room as more people arrived. His hand settled on the small of your back, drawing you into his side.

A few weeks ago, this would have only happened in your dreams, but he seemed more inclined to touch you. His hands never strayed far, often taking roost on your shoulder or knee. His personal favorite seemed to be your back, be it tracing small circles idly in your skin or providing a sturdy presence like he was now—tantalizingly close to your ass.

Anyway.

The subway pulled up to the platform and people shuffled onto it. You and Jacob found space in the last car near the back, people shoving you flat against the chilly glass. He angled his body toward the door, one arm braced over your head to shield you from the rest of the car. The brim of his hat created harsh shadows across his face as he peered down at you. You swore that his eyes almost glowed in the dim light.

“Is this alright?”

“No complaints here,” you assured him as you clutched your cup to your chest, ensuring it didn’t spill.

The car pulled away from the platform, your bodies swaying with its momentum. His hand fell to your hip, steadying you. Ten stops to Park Row. Approximately thirty minutes, give or take any unseen delays. You could survive that long.

Jacob though?

He appeared to struggle with your proximity.

He chewed the skin from his lower lip as he looked anywhere but your face, a soft flush turning his cheeks pink. You were about to tell him he didn’t have to stand so close when his thump dipped beneath the hem of your sweatshirt to rub small circles over your hip bone.

It seemed unintentional on his part like when he flexed his fingers to self-soothe, except now you were his personal fidget toy. Every muscle in your body pulled taut as you fought the involuntary shudder tingling at the base of your spine. You felt hot, feverish even, with him this close. There wasn’t enough self-restraint in the world. Not for this, not for him.

“Jacob,” you breathed.

His hand slipped fully under your sweatshirt, his palm ghosting up and down your side before settling back on your hip.

Your grip tightened around your cup. That felt more intentional than nervous fidgeting. He trained his gaze over your head as his hand drifted up once more, his thumb and forefinger teased the band of your bra, just shy of the swell of your breast. This time, he just… stayed there.

On the cusp of scandalous, but not quite.

A gasp snagged in your throat.

He peered down at you again with heavy eyes. “And this? Is this alright?” His voice barely crested a whisper.

You nodded, cheeks burning. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. It might ruin this moment. You never imagined he would muster the courage to touch you like this, let alone on a crowded subway. Sometimes, you wondered if he had sexual urges. Or he was just a gentleman. That thought had also crossed your mind, but now your mind had gone a little fuzzy as you wrangled with this new development.

This was good.

Better than good.

After months of push and pull, progress gained and progress lost, this was what you’d been working toward. And now that you had it… it still wasn’t enough. You wanted, no, you needed more. With a move this bold, it had to be a sign he was ready to take things to the next level.

Right?

You angled your chin more purposefully toward him, allowing him to make that choice. Pupils blown wide, he wet his lips and ducked his head, nearly closing the distance. Your eyes fluttered close as his lips grazed—

Your phone buzzed loudly in your back pocket.

Jacob extracted himself as onlookers shot you a dirty look because God forbid you disrupt their luxurious subway ride to the shittiest end of the city. You scrambled for your phone as he hid his face in his hand, though it did nothing to hide his ragged breaths or the noticeable bulge that pressed against the seam of his pants.

Your gaze flicked between his pants and your phone, torn. On the one hand, the embarrassment of popping a boner on the subway might just kill him, but on the other, knowing you’d riled him up enough to make him hard weighed heavy between your thighs.

So much for self-restraint.

Through means that should be classified as metahuman, you managed to look away from Jacob and focus on your phone. It wasn’t a number you recognized, but you pressed it to your ear anyway, hoping to alleviate the sexual tension that threatened to smother you.

“Hello?”

“—llo—icki Vale with the Goth—zette. I’m calling on behalf of our annual writing com—Is this—who submitted the short story Through My Eyes?” You straightened, pressing your phone closer to your ear as if that would fix the shitty service.

“Yes. That’s me.”

“Wonderful. I am de—finalist in our competition.”

“Are you joking?” You fell into Jacob as the subway slowed to a stop. He caught you loosely by the shoulder, muffling a soft grunt in his hand.

“I only report the truth Miss—offended by anyone—otherwise.”

You needed better service for this conversation. Your gaze flicked to Jacob who was red enough to match his helmet. Fresh air too. Shoving your drink into one of his hands and grabbing the other, you dragged him off the subway before the doors slid closed and headed up the stairs to get above ground. Vicki continued speaking, her voice cutting in and out.

“Excerpt—winner—I put you down?”

That last part sounded less like it was traveling through water. “Can you repeat that?”

Vicki heaved a sigh and said, “We’re holding a showcase at the end of March to recognize our finalists. There, you’ll read an excerpt from your submission, and we’ll announce the winner. Can I put down as attending?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be there. I’m so—thank you so much.”

“Fantastic. We’ll send formal invitations in the next week or so, but we wanted to inform our finalists ahead of time. This event is an exclusive showcase, space is limited. You’ll be allowed to bring two guests. We look forward to seeing you at the end of March. Be in touch.”

The line went dead before you could say anything more, but you were too stunned to speak. This couldn’t be real.

“Who was that?”

You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk outside the station, one hand still gripping Jacob’s like a vice. People moved around you because you two were very much in the way. He still looked a little pink, but the tent in his pants was less noticeable now that you’d left the crammed subway car. Residual embarrassment still looming, you pocketed your phone and guided him into a recessed alcove that led into an apartment complex. It was as ‘private’ as you would get out here.

“I just got off the phone with Vicki Vale.” You paused a beat before adding, “From the Gotham Gazette.”

He flashed a small smile, revealing his pronounced canines. “I’ve heard of her.”

“Well, hear this. I’m a finalist in the writing competition I entered in December. Me. I can’t believe it?” You struggled to hide your excitement. “My advisor suggested I enter, but I didn’t think anything would come of it. I’m a little rusty, more than a little if I’m being honest, and it was far from my best work seeing as I was—”

The to-go cup hit the ground as Jacob scooped you up, twirling you around. You bit back a yelp of surprise as you clutched his shoulders. His wide smile faltered once he slowed, his flush darkening again. “Sorry. You were talking shit about yourself, and I wanted you to stop.” He cleared his throat. “For the record, I never doubted you for a second.”

Your chest tightened. “You’re just saying that.”

“I mean it,” he said in earnest, “I always knew you had what it took to be a great writer. That’s why I—”

He hesitated.

Your fingers bunched in his collar. “That’s why?”

He lowered you so that your eyes were level. “That’s why I admire your passion.”

That heaviness from before returned. You lifted his cap to see his face, steely eyes softened with affection. Cupping him loosely by the jaw seemed like simultaneously too much and not enough. He pressed his face into your palm, a low, inaudible groan rumbling in his chest. You might have missed it if he didn’t have you pressed flush against him.

Take a chance and open your heart.

Damn it. Steph was right.

“I’d like you to come to the showcase.”

He dragged his face away from your hand and blinked. “You want me there?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I want you there?”

He averted his gaze, reverting to the shy man you found all the more endearing. “Trust me, I’m flattered, but wouldn’t you rather invite someone who matt—”

You took his face in both hands and forced him to look at you. “I’d rather invite you. End of discussion.”

His expression turned inexplicably soft. “Yes, ma’am. If you want me there, I’ll be there.”

You believed him.

You had no reason to believe otherwise.

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

A/N: I promise I will stop teasing you guys *very* soon. I read it in your horoscopes.

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jazziejax · 3 months ago

Text

𝐈𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭?

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Kadeem ‘Unique’ Mathis x Black!OC

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - Not one sort of relationship was perfect. Couples fought, friends argued, and it sometimes got physical in two different sort of ways…but whatever the relationship was between Unique and Mo’nique was far more complex considering they weren’t friends, far from a couple and she technically was taking care of him free of charge. But is that really it?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - cursing, mental episodes, nudity, injuries, and that all I can think of rn…let me know if I missed anything please!

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - I know it’s been a minute but this last semester is no. joke. I have been getting my ass lived with this classes and exams, but it’s all working out because ya sista is passing!!! I know yall want an update with everything else I have sitting around, AND ITS ALL COMING SOON!!! Just give me till May for consistency, I beg!!!! Also, I’ve been thinking about writing something for Kelvin’s character ‘Euri’ in O’Dessa…let me know if yall want that because I love a lil fruity man that gets freaky. I watched challengers!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 16,542+

Unique was already awake.

Had been for the past few minutes, caught somewhere between sleep and something else entirely. His eyes were half-lidded, his head tilted just enough to catch the way the morning light cast a soft glow over her features.

Mo’nique was still asleep, completely unaware of the way she had curled into him sometime during the night. Of the way, her fingers had brushed against his ribs, light and unconscious, before settling again. Of the way her breath, warm and even, ghosted against his shirt.

He had woken up expecting pain, the same dull, throbbing ache that had been his companion since that night. But this? This was different. His body still hurt only a bit, but his mind… his mind was quiet. For the first time in longer than he cared to admit, the weight pressing on his chest wasn’t unbearable.

He wasn’t thinking about revenge. Wasn’t thinking about Ronnie.

He was just here in the present. Something he hasn’t been able to do in a long, long time. And he wasn’t quite sure what to do with that.

His arm shifted slightly, fingers flexing like he wanted to move, to break whatever the hell this was before she woke up and made it something more real than it had to be. But something in him stopped. Something deep in his chest, something that he hadn’t let himself feel in a long time.

He let out a slow breath, eyes flickering to the clock.

Mo’nique would wake up soon. And then what? She’d pull away. Crack a joke. Or would she say nothing at all and act like none of this ever happened? And maybe that was for the best.

Still, when she stirred, a quiet hum slipping from her lips as she nestled just a little closer, Unique found himself hesitating. Because for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t want to let go.

But whatever he was feeling was soon to be over.

The first thing Mo’nique felt was warmth. Not the kind that came from blankets or the sluggish heat of a room in the morning, but something solid. Her mind was slow to wake, drifting somewhere between sleep and consciousness, clinging to the last remnants of rest. She felt the steady rise and fall beneath her, the slow, rhythmic movement of breath. Her fingers twitched, grazing soft fabric, and that was when it hit her.

She wasn’t alone.

Her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep, and the first thing she saw was black fabric stretched over firm muscle. It took her a second to register what—who—she was lying on. But once it did, awareness shot through her like a live wire.

Unique.

She was still pressed against him.

Her body tensed, her breath catching in her throat as reality settled over her like a heavyweight. Sometime in the night, she had moved closer. Or maybe he had? Either way, she was tucked against him, her cheek resting against his chest, his scent lingering on the fabric of the shirt she’d given him.

And worse? His arm—his damn arm—was close. Close enough that it might as well have been wrapped around her.

She should move. She should definitely move.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she lay there, her mind scrambling for an explanation, an excuse—anything—to make sense of how the hell she had ended up like this. She didn’t sleep like this, this well. Not with other people, even back when she had the chance to. She would always wake up in the middle of the night, sometimes multiple times.

But… she had slept this time. And she had slept well.

That realization made her stomach twist a bit.

Slowly, carefully, she tilted her head back, just enough to get a glimpse of Unique’s face. His eyes were still shut, his breathing slow, his other hand placed on his chest that rose and fell with every breath. Her pulse seemed to kick up, heat creeping up her neck as she looked at his resting face.

If I moved now, maybe I could act like this never happened, she thought. Maybe he’d keep his eyes closed and let her slip away without a word. So

Mo’nique sucked in a slow breath, forcing her body to move. Carefully, she peeled herself away from Unique’s warmth, taking extra care not to jostle him too much. The last thing she needed was to lock eyes with him after waking up damn near wrapped around each other.

The air outside the blankets was colder than she expected, making her skin prickle as she sat up, trying to fight back a violent shiver. She rubbed a hand over her face, still groggy but determined to shake it off. Her stomach gave a low, impatient growl, reminding her exactly what she needed to do next.

Breakfast.

She glanced over her shoulder. Unique was still lying there, eyes closed, but she wasn’t sure if he was fully asleep or if he was just pretending. Either way, she wasn’t about to stick around to find out. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she padded out of the room and towards the kitchen, scratching at her shirt curls through her scarf as she went. The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the fridge when she opened it.

As Mo’nique moved through the kitchen, focusing on getting breakfast together, she tried—tried—to push down the thoughts that had been lingering in the back of her mind ever since she woke up tangled against Unique.

Because what the hell was that?

She could still feel the warmth of his body against hers, the way her face had been pressed into his side like she belonged there. And worse? She had let herself stay. Just for a little while. Long enough to soak in the comfort, to let herself feel…the security it brought her.

That was the part that messed with her the most. It felt safe…and comfortable.

She hadn’t felt that way in a long time—not in a bed, not in the presence of a man, not in any situation where her guard was down and she was in one of her most vulnerable positions. But lying against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, the weight of his arm resting close, it had been so damn easy to just… let it happen.

She stirred the waffle batter a little too aggressively, jaw clenching as she forced herself to focus. It didn’t mean anything, she thought. They were just tired. It was cold. She had gotten comfortable—that was all.

But that tiny, treacherous part of her whispered back, Then why did you hesitate to get up?

She shook her head and reached for the waffle iron, pouring in the batter. Doesn’t matter. She had bigger things to worry about than how good it had felt to sleep beside Unique.

Instead, she put her energy into breakfast, pouring herself into the simple, steady motions of cooking. Eggs, bacon, waffles. Things she could control. Because whatever that was between them moments ago? That was something she absolutely could not.

And Unique was having a similar conversation with himself about it all in her bedroom. The moment Mo’nique stepped out of the room, Unique let out a slow exhale, a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, cracking his eyes open fully. He had been awake for a little while now, but he wasn’t in any rush to move. His body still felt like it had been through the wringer—because it had—and the comfort of the bed, the lingering warmth where Mo’nique had been, was too good to shake off just yet.

From the other room, he could hear the faint sounds of cooking—bacon sizzling, the rhythmic scrape of a whisk against a bowl. The smell of it drifted into the room, rich and warm, making his stomach stir with hunger.

He lay there, one arm draped over his forehead, letting himself soak in the rare feeling of not being in a rush to move, of not having to constantly be on guard. But moments later, when he heard the soft padding of her footsteps approaching again, he cracked his eyes open in time to see Mo’nique stepping back into the room, eyeing him with that sharp, assessing look of hers.

“You gotta use the bathroom?” She asked, arms crossing as she leaned against the door banister.

Unique gave a slow shake of his head, his gaze lingering on her a little longer than necessary. She was still in the clothes she slept in, her hair slightly tousled from sleep, but she looked… at ease.

She caught that look in his eye, paused for a beat, then just nodded before asking, “You hungry?”

This time, he nodded.

Another small nod from her, this one tighter, before she pursed her lips and turned to head back to the kitchen. Unique huffed out a quiet breath, watching her go. He still didn’t say much, letting the silence settle between them as she moved around the kitchen. But when she finally returned, balancing a plate in one hand, he let a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth.

“Ain’t this some shit? You buttering me up now?”

Mo’nique gave him a flat look before shoving the plate toward him.

“Nigga, shut up and eat.” She said before walking back out and gathering her food. She came back with a plate and sat herself back in the chair from last night. She didn’t even look his way as she cooked, the television on in her room and began eating.

They ate in silence for a while, the only sounds coming from the soft hum of the television and the quiet clink of utensils against their plates. The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air played on the screen, Will cracking jokes as the laugh track echoed through the room.

Mo’nique sat cross-legged in the chair, her plate balanced in her lap, stealing glances at Unique between bites. He was leaned back against the headboard, eating slowly, clearly enjoying the meal more than he let on.

After a few moments, she spoke, her voice casual but pointed. “You know, I don’t usually allow eating in my room.”

A slow smirk made its way onto Unique’s, barely glancing up from his plate as he took another bite of waffle. “That so?” He hummed.

“Mmhm.” She speared a piece of bacon with her fork, chewing thoughtfully. “Only reason I let it slide this time is ‘cause you half-dead.” She said.

Unique let out a low and breathy chuckle since it hurt to laugh, shaking his head. “Damn. A nigga sorta on his deathbed, and you still got rules.”

“Damn right.” She shot him a look, but there was no real heat behind it. If anything, the corners of her lips twitched like she was holding back a smile, her brows raised a bit as she stared at him. Unique just hummed, taking another bite before glancing at her again. “So what, I’m supposed to be honored or some shit?” He asked with a small shrug.

Mo’nique rolled her eyes, finally giving in to the small smirk tugging at her lips. “Nah. Just don’t get used to it.”

Unique licked his lips, watching her for a moment longer before turning his attention back to the TV. He then hummed with a nod, acknowledging her suggestion.

They sat there and fished their food, Mo’nique taking their plates into the kitchen and placing them into the sink. She let out a sigh as she moved back to the room. She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, her gaze steady as she took in the man sprawled out on her bed. Unique had settled back against the pillows, one arm draped lazily over his torso, looking more at ease than he had any right to be. His eyes drifted over to when she lingered.

“What?” He asked, his voice low and scratchy, eyes flicking over to meet hers.

She tilted her head slightly, pressing her lips together before speaking. “You know, you’ve been here two, three days now.”

He blinked. “Yeah?” He shifted slightly, wincing at the soreness still settled deep in his muscles. He wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but the idea of her kicking him out did quickly cross his mind. And he hated how his heart damn near dropped at the thought. A sliver of something unsettling—something like hopelessness—crept in before he could shove it away.

Mo’nique sighed, her fingers tightening against her arms as she exhaled through her nose. “It’s time to take a bath, Nique.”

And that—that—he didn’t know how to react to.

For a moment, he just stared at her, processing. Of all the things she could’ve said, that wasn’t even on his radar. His lips parted slightly, brows furrowing as if he had misheard her. “What?” He questioned, making sure he heard her correctly.

She gave him a pointed look. “You need to clean up. I know you hurt, but you not that hurt. Paralyzed people take baths.”

Unique blinked, then scoffed, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he propped himself up on an elbow. “So you tryna say I stink?” He questioned.

Mo’nique rolled her eyes. “I’m saying you've been in about two different spots, same sort of clothes, for damn near three days. So yeah, it’s time.”

Unique let his head fall back against the pillows, exhaling through his nose. “Man…”

“No man.” She cut in, pushing off the doorway. “You gon’ get up, and I’ll help you if you need it, but I ain’t lettin’ you just lay here and rot.”

He eyed her carefully, the teasing glint in his eyes dimming just a little. There was something else in her tone, something that made his chest feel tight. She wasn’t saying this to mess with him—she was saying it because she gave a damn. She cared. And that… well, that did little something to him in his chest.

After a long pause, he finally sighed. “Aight, fine.”

Mo’nique raised an eyebrow. “Fine?”

“Yeah, fine.” He muttered, reluctantly and stiffly swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Damn. You real bossy, you know that?” He chucked out, feeling the aching pain he had in his sides.

Mo’nique smirked. “And you real hard-headed. Now come on.” She said, McIntosh over to him. Unique shook his head, but he didn’t argue. Didn’t push back.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Mo’nique hadn’t really thought this through past the point of telling Unique to get up.

Because now, standing in the small, slightly humid bathroom, she realized how… intimate this was about to be. And when she turned to look at Unique, sitting on the closed toilet lid, watching her with that lazy, unreadable expression, she could tell he was thinking the same thing.

“You just gon’ stand there all day, or you actually gon’ help?” His voice was teasing, but there was an edge to it, like he wasn’t entirely sure how to navigate this either.

She exhaled through her nose and ignored the way heat crept up the back of her neck. “Shut up.” She mumbled. He huffed out a quiet laugh but didn’t say anything else as she turned the faucet, letting the tub fill. The water ran hot, steam curling into the air, and she poured in a little body wash, watching the bubbles rise.

“You got a preference?” She asked, nodding toward the shelf of soaps and shampoos she had on a metal rack in the shower.

Unique pursed her lips, cocking his head at her. “I look like I got a preference?” He asked, furrowing his brows at her.

Mo’nique rolled her eyes at his sassy attitude and grabbed what she usually used, setting everything within reach before turning back to him. The playful glint in his eye had dulled a little, his jaw set as he stared at the water. He looked tense, and for a second, she wondered if he was actually uncomfortable with all this. “Hey.” Her voice was quieter now. Softer. “You good?” She asked.

Unique blinked, snapping out of whatever thought had momentarily taken him. His eyes flickered to hers, and then he nodded, though the motion was slow. “Yeah.” He murmured, then cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Mo’nique wasn’t sure she fully believed him, but she didn’t push. Instead, she moved to help him undress, starting with his shirt. She hesitated for only a second before carefully peeling the fabric away from his body. He winced, sucking in a sharp breath as the movement aggravated his bruises, and Mo’nique bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to react to just how bad they still looked. Dark patches covered his ribs, his stomach, his arms—evidence of everything he had been through before he ended up here.

“Sorry,” She murmured, fingers barely brushing against his skin as she pulled the shirt off completely.

He shook his head. “It ain’t your fault, you’re cool.”

She nodded, then crouched to pull off his socks before moving to his sweats. He didn’t say anything as she slid them down his legs, didn’t make a single smart remark, which only made her more aware of the shift in the air between them. She didn’t even offer an inappropriate glance at his junk. Once he was undressed, Mo’nique reached for his arm. “Come on.”

He moved stiffly, but with her help, he stepped into the tub, the woman helping him lower himself carefully into the water with a quiet grunt. The heat must’ve soothed him at least a little because she saw his shoulders relax, his head tipping back against the edge of the tub as he let out a long breath.

“Good?”She asked, sitting on the closed toilet lid.

“Mmhmm,” He hummed, eyes half-lidded, the tension in his face slowly easing. She nodded at that, letting out a subtle him with her eyes still locked on his resting form. She let him soak for a moment before wetting a washcloth and lathering it with soap. “Alright, lean up.” She said

He cracked one eye open. “You gon’ wash me too?” He asked, and even though he was sort of guarded when it came to the thought, the idea of it did make him want to smirk a little. Maybe under completely different circumstances.

Mo’nique gave him a dry look. “You want me to?” She asked, quirking a brow at him.

Something flickered in his gaze at that, something unreadable, but after a beat, he simply leaned forward. She blinked at him before she began working methodically, her hands gentle but firm as she ran the cloth over his back, across his shoulders, and down his arms. She was careful around his ribs, making sure not to press too hard, but even still, she could feel the way his body tensed beneath her touch.

“Relax.” She murmured.

Unique let out a quiet but tense chuckle, shaking his head. “Ain’t used to this, that’s all.” He said, trying to ease the uncomfortableness he felt. Mo’nique didn’t say anything to that, just kept going, moving to his chest. When her fingers brushed against a particularly dark bruise, she hesitated. She didn’t want to press down too hard, but the dark spot against his deep skin didn’t look too good. At her pause, Unique looked at her. “You gon’ ask?” He muttered, before closing his eyes once again.

Mo’nique’s lips pressed together. She knew what he meant. “Do you want me to?” She questioned as she continued.

He was quiet for a moment. Then, he shook his head. “Nah.”

She nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. She ran the cloth down his stomach, over the planes of his torso, then dipped it into the water to rinse before handing it to him.

“You got the rest?” She asked softly, and she was hoping he would say yes because even though she was a professional at this, she didn’t know if she could handle all that just yet. Especially since she was still struggling with trying to surpass the thoughts from this morning.

Unique took the cloth, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. “Yeah.” He muttered.

Mo’nique stood, grabbing a large towel from the shelf and setting it on the counter. “I’ll be in the room if you need help getting out.” She said before turning to leave the room. Unique tilted his head slightly, looking up at her with something almost unreadable in his expression.

“Mo’nique.” He called just as she was stepping out.

She turned back to him “Yeah?”He held her gaze for a second before blinking and shaking his head, smirking faintly. “Nothin’. Just… thanks.”

Mo’nique didn’t know what to say to that, so she just nodded and slipped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her. And Unique watched the door for a long time after she left. His body was still tense, despite the warmth of the water. Despite the way, his muscles should’ve been relaxing. Though he thought he felt a noticeable decline in temperature when she left the room.

He leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, closing his eyes as he thought. Mo’nique wasn’t like the women he usually dealt with. She wasn’t falling over herself, eager to do things for him, but she also wasn’t that distant. She knew when to press and when to leave things alone. She told just enough to make him feel comfortable. She knew when to hold his gaze and when to look away.

And the way she had touched him… carefully, deliberately, without a trace of pity as she washed away more than just the grime. That shit messed with him. Because he knew what pity looked like. He had seen it in the eyes of plenty of people before. It had been years since he felt it in the way people used to handle him when Ronnie was still around like he was something fragile. He hated that shit.

But Mo’nique? She didn’t look at him like that. She didn’t treat him like something broken, even though this was all she knew. The beaten version of himself.

And maybe that’s why, for the first time in a long time, he actually felt something settle inside him. Something he didn’t quite have a name for yet.

He ran a wet hand down his face, shaking his head.

He needed to get a grip.

Because whatever this was, whatever she was doing to him— He wasn’t sure if he was ready for it.

Mo’nique was facing a similar internal conflict. She had closed the door behind her and exhaled, her back pressing against the wood as she stared at the floor. She hadn’t realized how much she had been holding her breath until now.

Her hands twitched at her sides, still warm from the hot water and touching him. From washing over his skin and feeling the tension coiled in his muscles. It was one thing to know he was hurt, to see the bruises peeking from beneath his clothes. But touching them? Feeling the dips and ridges of his pain? That was different. And it didn’t help that the attractive man had the body to match.

She ran a hand down her face, pushing away the thoughts that tried to creep in—the ones that told her that she shouldn’t care and that she had no business feeling anything about this man the way she did.

This morning, she had damn near woken up in his arms but wanted to fight him only yesterday. Hell, she had fought him. And now she was in there… washing his back, checking on him, feeling something she didn’t even want to name.

She couldn’t help but think of the way his body had been tense at first, but how it had relaxed once he settled into the tub. The way he hadn’t protested when she touched him, even though she knew he must’ve been uncomfortable from the bruises. His quiet moments. The strange, almost vulnerable look in his eyes when he thanked her.

Her body still felt warm from the proximity, from the way his eyes had lingered on her before she left. He had almost said something—she could feel it in the pause before he shook his head and that smirk slid into place like a shield. Mo’nique swallowed, taking another deep breath.

She wasn’t stupid. Unique was charming. He knew how to reel people in, how to make them feel special, even when they weren’t supposed to be. And yet…

She suddenly pushed off the door, shaking her head at herself as she moved toward the bed in the room. She wasn’t doing this. She wasn’t going to sit here and overanalyze something that wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

Because that’s all it was, right? It wasn’t supposed to mean anything….So why did it feel like it did?

Mo’nique just sat in the bed, arms crossed, as she listened to the sounds of the water splashing softly in the bathroom. Her mind buzzed with the strange shift she felt between herself and Unique, but she tried not to overthink it.

Helping Unique bathe hadn’t been as strange as she thought it might be, but now, the silence felt different. He was in there, and she was out here, and somehow the line between her role as someone helping him and something else was starting to blur. She couldn’t shake the feeling that things were shifting between them, and that shift made her heart beat just a little faster. The warmth of the moment was still lingering in the air, but it was a strange kind of warmth—one that didn’t just come from the hot water.

Her fingers tapped lightly on her arm, her thoughts drifting in and out of focus on the television screen. She didn’t mind helping him, but something about the whole situation now felt different. Everything had been different since yesterday and this morning didn’t make it any better. The tension between them had been building ever since he showed up at her place, and now it was hard to ignore.

This is all my fault, she thought.

The sound of the water finally stopped, and the silence hung thick in the air. She hesitated for a moment before pushing herself up from the bed and walking toward the bathroom. She knocked softly this time, hearing a muffled sound before she opened the door slowly, her eyes landing on him in the tub.

He was sitting there, leaning back, his eyes closed for a second before they fluttered open when he sensed her presence. Mo’nique could see him trying to steady himself, but he was visibly sore. His muscles were tense, his body battered from the bruises and the trauma, but he wasn’t about to show weakness.

“Need a hand getting out?” Mo’nique asked, her voice steady but not unkind. There was no hesitation in her movement as she took a step into the bathroom, her hands resting on her hips.

Unique’s eyes flicked up to hers, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I got it, Mo’nique. I ain’t that helpless.”

She didn’t reply right away. Instead, she watched him for a moment, trying to gauge if he could manage on his own. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel like a burden, but at the same time, she didn’t want him pushing himself too hard.

The silence stretched between them before she finally sighed, her voice a little softer. “No, you don’t. I can see that. You’re hurting, Nique.”

He scowled, but she didn’t back down. “Fine.” He muttered, his smirk turning into something more resigned. He looked down at the water, clearly not thrilled about being helped. “Just make it quick.”

Mo’nique moved in close without hesitation. She reached for the towel she had already set out for him, draping it over her shoulder before offering her hand to him. He met her gaze again, this time with something unreadable in his eyes, but he accepted her help.

She bent slightly to grab his arm and carefully assisted him as he stood up. His body was heavy with exhaustion and pain, and she could feel his muscles strain under her touch. She kept a firm grip on him, helping him steady himself, and though he didn’t complain, she could tell he appreciated the support.

When he finally stood, she handed him the towel, the rough fabric brushing against his skin. He wrapped it around his waist, but his eyes never left her. She couldn’t quite read him, but there was something about the way he looked at her that made her heart skip a beat.

“You good?” She asked, more out of instinct than anything, watching him carefully.

He nodded, though his eyes were still slightly clouded with the discomfort he was feeling. “Yeah. Just… a little sore. I’ll be fine.”

She nodded in return. “I know you will be.” She said, her voice softer now. “But you don’t have to do it all alone, Nique. You’ve got me.” She said, looking up at him. She then blinked once she heard what her words sounded like. “I mean, that’s what you’re here for. It’s my job.” She shrugged to let off some of the nerves she was feeling. Unique was quiet for a long moment, his gaze locked with hers. “Yeah.” He finally murmured, his voice lower than usual. “Guess I do.” She nodded.

Mo’nique then helped him slowly walk toward the bedroom, careful not to jostle him too much. He wasn’t exactly in the best shape, but she could see the effort he was putting in. She guided him over to the bed, letting him sit down as he exhaled a long, tired breath.

She took in a slow breath as she looked at him, sitting there on the edge of the bed, towel wrapped loosely around his waist. His skin was still damp, his body tense even though exhaustion weighed heavily in his posture. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of soap and warm water lingering in the air between them. She then swallowed, glancing over at the clothes she had laid out for him. “Alright.” She said, forcing some distance between them now. Mo’nique grabbed the hoodie from the chair and stepped in front of him. Unique watched her without a word, his gaze steady, unreadable. He sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread, hands resting on his thighs. He didn’t move, didn’t speak—just watched her.

She didn’t let herself hesitate. “Arms.” She said, holding the hoodie open.

He lifted them, letting her guide the blue fabric over his head. Her fingers brushed against his neck as she pulled it down, the heat of his skin lingering even after she let go. He adjusted the sleeves, rolling his shoulders slightly, but his eyes never left her.

She reached for the sweatpants next, kneeling to slide them up his legs. He lifted his hips just enough for her to pull them and the underwear into place. The air between them was heavy, thick with something neither of them named.

Once he was dressed, she grabbed the first-aid kit from the nightstand and sat beside him. The cut on his face had dried, but it still looked raw. She ripped open an alcohol pad, fanning it out before reaching up to touch his jaw. He didn’t flinch, but his body went still.

“This might sting.” She murmured.

A slow exhale left his nose. “Go ahead.”

She dabbed at the wound, careful but firm. His jaw tensed beneath her fingers. He was close—close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath, see the way his lashes flickered as she worked.

“You should be more careful.” She said quietly, pressing the cloth against his skin.

He huffed out something like a laugh. “Shit happens.” He hissed out through the stinging.

She didn’t respond, just kept cleaning the wound, her touch lingering longer than it needed to. The silence stretched between them, thick and charged.

After a moment, he spoke again. “You take care of people like this before?” He suddenly asked, his eyes locked on her brown ones that were focused on his scar. She paused at that, meeting his gaze. “No.” She said firmly. And his eyes darkened, something unreadable passing through them. But he didn’t push.

She finished by applying the ointment, her fingers featherlight against his skin. When she pulled back, her touch lingered for just a second longer than necessary.

“You done?” He asked, his voice low.

Mo’nique let out a slow breath, standing up. “For now.” She said. And with that, Mo’nique felt the tension shift again, heavier now. She didn’t know what the hell was going on between them, but she knew one thing for sure—it wasn’t going to be easy figuring it out. Now, it was time for her. She found herself standing in the bathroom, glancing at the mirror as she caught sight of herself, still a little damp from the close contact with Unique. The morning had already been a strange mix of routine and something… unexpected. She had taken care of him, helped him out of the tub, and made him breakfast—things she didn’t usually do for anyone, and yet it had felt natural.

The bathroom seemed colder somehow, the steam of the previous bath water barely escaping from the shower. She stared at the closed curtain, the sense of quiet anticipation building. Mo’nique wasn’t used to being the one who needed help, but today, with everything that had happened, she could feel the tension and exhaustion settling in her body. It had been a while since she’d felt so off balance.

She slipped off her clothes before moving to turn the shower on. She adjusted the temperature to something comfortably warm, then let the water stream down. As the water started to fill the air with a soft mist, she stepped in, closing the curtain behind her. She let out a long, slow breath, allowing herself to relax as the warmth enveloped her.

She closed her eyes, her mind wandering for a moment, her wet fingers running over her face. The scent of her body wash—vanilla, light and calming—mixed with the steam, and for a while, she let herself forget about everything. The world outside the bathroom, the responsibilities of the day, and the weight of whatever lingering thoughts she began to feel between her and Unique—they all felt distant as the water washed over her skin.

But soon enough, she felt the creeping need to hurry. She didn’t want to linger too long in here. She scrubbed her skin, each movement methodical, allowing the steam to lift the tension from her muscles. Part of her was still trying to figure out why she was doing all of this. Unique didn’t ask for her help; she had just given it, almost instinctively, after seeing the star of his injuries when her cousin dropped him off. But that couldn’t have been all that it was. She always told Earl off for his stupid and scamming ways while now she was doing free labor for a fully grown stranger.

Maybe it was just him… or maybe it was the way he seemed so comfortable and had gotten under her skin without even trying.

Mo’nique finished up her shower quickly, not wanting to overthink it. She turned the water off and stepped out, grabbing the towel she had left within easy reach. As she dried off, she glanced at her reflection in the fogged-up mirror. For a moment, her thoughts paused. She looked…not tried? And that was new for her. Her light eye bags were still but she had a fair glow to her skin that wasn’t usually there.

She wrapped the towel around her body and opened the bathroom door. As she stepped back into her bedroom, she saw Unique lying on her bed, looking at the ceiling with his hands behind his head, lost in thought. The soft hum of the television show playing in the background gave the room a quiet, almost domestic feel.

Mo’nique couldn’t help but feel a brief moment of uncertainty, but she brushed it off. As Monique stepped into the room, the only thing covering her was a towel wrapped snugly around her body, damp from her shower. The scent of her vanilla and coconut-scented body wash lingered in the air as steam followed her in. Unique, who had been casually lounging on the bed, glanced up—and immediately froze.

His eyes flickered over her, taking in the sight before him, his usual confident demeanor momentarily faltering. He hadn’t expected her to walk in like that, not without warning. His lips parted slightly as if he was about to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he dragged his tongue across his teeth, letting his gaze linger for a moment longer than necessary before looking away, masking whatever thoughts ran through his head.

Monique, completely unfazed or perhaps just pretending not to notice, walked past him toward the dresser, grabbing a bottle of lotion. She poured some into her palm, rubbing it into the exposed skin of her arms and chest, her movements slow and deliberate—but not intentionally seductive. It was just the way she moved, effortlessly drawing attention without trying.

Unique shifted in his seat, exhaling through his nose as he shook his head slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Damn.” He muttered under his breath, more to himself than to her.

Monique glanced over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “What?” She asked, quirking a brow at him.

Unique then leaned up, resting on his elbows. “Nothin’.” His voice was casual, but there was something else underneath it—something unspoken as his eyes quickly took in her figure before moving elsewhere.

She held his gaze for a second before turning back to what she was doing, acting as if the weight of his stare wasn’t still pressing against her. She didn’t respond, just shook her head before she reached for the clothes she had set on top of the dresser earlier. The towel remained wrapped securely around her, but the way she moved—unbothered, completely at ease in his presence—made Unique’s jaw tighten just a little.

She gathered her things—a cut-off crew neck and a pair of fitted leggings—before heading back toward the bathroom. Unique’s eyes followed her, but he didn’t say a word. He just let his gaze linger, dragging over her bare shoulders, down to the curve of her thighs before she disappeared behind the door.

Once she was out of sight, he exhaled sharply, shaking his head to himself. She knew exactly what she was doing, whether she wanted to admit it or not. She had to! He thought.

A few minutes passed before Monique emerged again, this time fully dressed, her sweater hanging off one of her shoulders to show her bra strap while her black tights hugged her thick thighs and her cute curls were out. She padded barefoot across the room, the smell of cocoa butter clinging to her skin.

Unique was still in the same spot, this time leaning back on the bed with one arm propped behind his head. He looked her up and down, slower this time as if assessing something. “I appreciate it,” He suddenly spoke up quietly, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Mo’njque turned to him at the sound of his voice. “I know I ain’t made it easy these past couple days.” He mumbled.

She didn’t know how to respond to that. The words sat on her tongue as she blinked, but none of them felt right. Instead, she just nodded, the movement stiff, and smiled faintly. “Just don’t make me regret it.” She quipped anything to make him feel less like shit.

He grinned at that, a flash of that cocky smirk she had become familiar with making its way across his lips. “Nah, I won’t. But don’t think I’m gonna start letting you play nurse every time something goes wrong, though.”

Mo’nique rolled her eyes. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do. I’m the nurse here, Unique.” She sassed, tilting her head at him as she looked him in the eye.

But there was something in the way he looked at her now—something different than before. Less guarded, but still cautious. For the first time in days, it felt like they were both trying to figure out the space they occupied in each other’s lives.

“Alright, whatever,” Unique said, lying against the bed, looking out the window above the headboard. Mo’nique stayed where she was, leaning back against her dresser, watching as he got caught in her own thoughts as the sun shined down on him. Neither of them spoke again until he seemed to snap out of it, letting out a small sigh, and when he finally turned to face her, something about the air between them felt different.

Not better, not worse. Just… different.

“So.” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets.” What now? You got plans today?”

Mo’nique glanced at the clock, realizing it was almost past noon. “Actually.” She said slowly, rising from the dresser, “It’s my off day. It’s why I slept in so late.“ she shrugged. She then eased her way over to the door, her arms crossed. “And I’m glad you asked because now it’s time to move. Come on, we’re going to the living room.” She said, her voice calm but firm.

Unique didn’t immediately budge. He sat there for a few seconds, the bed creaking under his weight, as he looked at her like she had just asked him to run a marathon. There was reluctance in his eyes, his muscles still sore from the last couple of days of recovery. Finally, with a deep sigh, he slowly pushed himself up to sit at the edge of the bed.

Mo’nique watched him for a moment, her patience wearing thin. When he didn’t make any further effort, she cocked an eyebrow and glanced at him. “Come on.” She urged, jerking her head towards the open door, her arms outstretched as if beckoning him like a baby.

He stared at her, a mix of disbelief and exhaustion in his gaze. “What? You’re not gonna help?” He asked, his tone a little dry.

“No.” She replied flatly, her voice matching the playful annoyance she always managed to carry so easily.

Unique let out a frustrated grunt, his hand gripping the edge of the bed as if it were the only thing keeping him steady. “First you don’t want me moving on my own and now you’re forcing me? What’s wrong with you, B?” He asked, scrunching his face up at her.

Mo’nique gave him an amused look as she looked down at him. “You gotta take it one step at a time, B.” She said, not even trying to hide how his annoyance was making her grin as she relayed his slang. “Baby steps.” She teased. “It’s called rehab, man. I know you’ve heard of it. Now ease up and walk from the bed to the door.” She motioned toward the door as if it were some grand distance to cross.

The corner of Unique’s mouth twitched, a reluctant grin playing at the edge of his lips, even as he felt the ache in his limbs and irritation gnawing at his brain. Slowly, carefully, he pushed himself to his feet. He was still a little stiff, and still sore, but there was no denying the way her eyes were on him, making him feel like he had no choice but to comply.

With a grunt, he took a slow, measured step toward the door. Each movement was labored, his body protesting, but there was something about her unspoken challenge that kept him moving. The whole process felt ridiculous, but at the same time, he couldn’t help the way a small sense of accomplishment settled in when he finally stood at the doorframe, looking down at Mo’nique, who hadn’t moved from her spot.

She gave him a nod of approval. “See? Told you. One step at a time.” She smiled up at him. Unique rolled his eyes, trying to hide the slight pride he felt in the accomplishment. “Yeah, whatever man.“

“Now, let’s get you to the living room.” She added with a grin as if the hardest part was already over. With a sly look, she nudged her chin toward the couch outside. “Come on, I’ll even let you have the remote.”

“Damn.” He muttered, more to himself than to her, but she was already walking toward the living room. A small smile tugged at his lips as he moved, and though he was still sore, there was something oddly comforting about the way she was guiding him—slowly but surely—into a rhythm.

As they reached the living room, Mo’nique helped him down before he moved to flick open the curtains, allowing the sunlight to spill into the space and fill the room with warmth. “It’s good for healing.” She said as she settled onto the couch, smoothing out a blanket and pulling it over her lap. She looked over at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to say something.

He simply slouched into the couch with a sigh before reaching for the remote. It felt strange, this new pace of life they were setting, but with her help, he was starting to feel a little more human again.

Mo’nique, with her usual ease, grabbed a Hulk Marvel comic from a stack under the first layer of the glass coffee table and flipped it open, her attention quickly shifting to the colorful pages. For a while, the two sat in comfortable silence, the sound of the television humming in the background as the weight of the world seemed just a little lighter at this moment.

Unique, however, lazily flipped through channels without much intention. Mo’nique glanced up from her comic, her attention divided. She knew he was trying to find something decent to watch, but he seemed more interested in aimless channel surfing than anything else.

A few minutes passed, and then, as if by some cosmic alignment, he stopped flipping and landed on a familiar tune. The theme song of The Nanny filled the air—bouncy and cheerful, its catchy beat making Mo’nique’s ears perk up. She let out a small gasp of excitement, her eyes lighting up as she glanced up at the screen.

“No way!” She grinned, sitting up a little straighter, completely abandoning her comic. “I love this show!”

Without thinking, she began humming along to the theme song, her voice matching the rhythm. Unique shot her a side-eye, taken aback by her uncharacteristically cheerful mood. His expression was unreadable, a mix of indifference and curiosity. “Really?” He muttered, clearly unimpressed by the sudden burst of enthusiasm.

But Mo’nique couldn’t help herself. The Nanny was one of those shows that always lifted her spirits. The way Fran Drescher’s voice bounced off the walls, the ridiculous antics of the characters—it was her kind of comfort TV. Not as good as Living Single, but it was nice. She mainly liked how Fran dressed.

And for all his cool-guy front, Unique was soon getting pulled into the magic of the show. He was trying not to look too interested, sitting back with his arms folded, but it was obvious that his eyes were glued to the screen. He couldn’t help it. The wit of the characters, the pure absurdity of the plotlines, it all tugged at him in ways he wasn’t expecting. His initial indifference started to crumble.

Mo’nique noticed it, though she didn’t acknowledge it right away. She just let herself enjoy the show, occasionally humming along or making little comments about the plot as she sipped her coffee.

Unique cleared his throat, shifting in his seat, still trying to act cool. “You know, this show is kinda… entertaining.” He admitted, his tone almost sheepish. It was rare for him to admit when something amused him, but today felt different. Mo’nique’s easygoing nature, her enjoyment of the little things, made everything seem lighter. He was starting to appreciate the weirdness of The Nanny too.

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I told you,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder as the show continued. “The Nanny is the shit.” She cheesed. “Ooo, you have to watch Living Single too. Love that show.” She mumbled to him, trying not to speak over the television and disrupt his watching experience, and she never once took her eyes off the screen. Unique just gave her a sidelong glance, not saying much more, but his lips twitched into a small, reluctant smile. She’d caught him. Caught him enjoying a show he probably never thought he’d watch.

The episode of The Nanny ended with the familiar jingle of the closing credits, and Mo’nique wasted no time snatching up the remote, flipping through channels with a lazy sort of interest. Meanwhile, Unique had gotten comfortable, sifting through the stack of comics she had pulled out for herself, but they soon caught his interest. He wasn’t much of a comic book dude, but something about seeing them neatly organized in her collection made him curious. He flipped through a few pages of The Incredible Hulk, catching glimpses of intense battle sequences and inner monologues.

It all felt oddly domestic, the two of them sitting on the couch, a blanket between them, the glow of the TV filling the room with warmth. Mo’nique didn’t think much about it—she was content, just sitting there, the weight of the world feeling a little lighter. Maybe it was the sun streaming through the windows, maybe it was the comfort of the moment, or maybe it was the quiet company they’d found in each other over the past few days.

Then, the shrill ring of the phone cut through the room.

Before Unique even thought about it, Mo’nique was already moving. She barely hesitated before leaning across him, her body nearly brushing against his as she reached for the phone sitting on the side table. His eyes followed her instinctively, the closeness catching him off guard.

Her scent—warm, familiar, and sweet, that same cinnamon and vanilla, with something else he couldn’t quite place—filled his nose as she brought the receiver to her ear. He didn’t even pretend not to look, his gaze trailing from the loose curls that framed her face, down to the way her sweatshirt draped over her body, teasing at the curves underneath.

She rolled her eyes after a brief pause. “It’s my cousin, Earl,” She clarified to him, already sounding exasperated.

Unique smirked to himself, knowing that eye roll probably meant Earl was calling with some nonsense. He turned his attention back to the comic, half-listening as Mo’nique talked to her cousin.

“No, I ain’t been holdin’ him hostage.” She said dryly. “He’s as fine as he can be. Walkin’ and everything.”

Unique huffed a quiet laugh at that, still pretending to read. She spoke with Earl for a few more moments before suddenly, she was holding the phone out to him.

“It’s for you.” She said, tilting her head toward him.

Unique arched a brow but took the receiver anyway. “Yeah?”

On the other end, Earl’s voice came through, casual but laced with something just short of concern. “Damn, nigga, I gotta check on you myself? You still breathin’?”

Unique hummed, stretching his legs out. “Barely,” He muttered, his middle sort of dropping since he now had to think about the situation he was currently in.

“Uh-huh. Mo’nique takin’ care of you, I see. You eatin’? She got you doin’ yoga or some weird shit yet?” He asked. Unique let out a half-assed chuckle. “Nah, but she got me walkin’ like an old man, so I guess that count.” He shrugged.

Earl snorted. “Good. You ain’t got time to be laid up forever. You know you owe me, right? This little hospital recovery situation you got goin’ on ain’t free.” He stated. Unique rolled his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch. “I know what I owe, Earl. Ain’t gotta remind me.” He said, not even trying to hide how pissed his tone sounded.

“I mean, I do, ‘cause I know how y’all niggas get when a woman playin’ nurse. You get too comfortable, next thing you know, you tryna post up and start a life.”

Unique smirked. “Nigga, shut up.”

Earl laughed, but his tone shifted slightly, turning a bit more serious. “For real, though. Don’t let all that home-cooked food and soft hands fool you. She doin’ you a favor, but it ain’t forever. You gettin’ back on your feet soon, right?”

Unique exhaled through his nose, glancing toward Mo’nique, who was still settled beside him, flipping through channels without care. “Yeah, man. I’m workin’ on it.” He said, looking at the woman.

Earl let out a satisfied hum. “Aight. Just checkin’. Don’t say I ain’t look out.” Unique only grunted in response before saying a quick, “I’ll hit you later,” and hanging up. He shook his head slightly, letting the phone rest on his stomach.

His attention drifted just as Mo’nique got up from the couch, stretching her arms above her head. Her off-the-shoulder sweater allowed him to see more of her once she stood, and her position showed him much more for a few seconds before she headed toward the kitchen. Unique barely listened to the background noise of the television now, too focused on the way she moved.

She pulled open the fridge, bending slightly to look inside, and his eyes dropped to her form. Those black leggings she had on turned out to be a body suit that clung to her like a second skin, but the oversized gray sweatshirt she threw on over it gave the illusion that she was just wearing tight pants. His gaze lingered, trailing the curve of her hips, the way her stance shifted as she rummaged through the fridge.

Yeah, Earl had a point. This was comfortable—too comfortable. And yet, Unique didn’t feel the need to move just yet. He blinked before placing the phone back and then picking up the coming book.

It wasn’t long before the scent of sautéing onions and garlic filled the small apartment, weaving through the air and settling over the living room where Unique sat, still flipping through one of Mo’nique’s comics. She moved back and forth in the kitchen like it was second nature, checking on what was sizzling on the stove, and then making sure the oven was doing its job. It was a simple meal, but a full one—pan-seared ribeyes with a rich gravy, mashed potatoes, and a side of roasted green beans. Nothing extravagant, just something hearty, something that would stick to the ribs.

As she moved past the couch again, heading back toward the kitchen, her eyes flicked toward the television. “You watching this?” She asked, nodding at the screen.

Unique barely looked up from the comic in his hands, shaking his head. “Nah,” He murmured, holding up the book in explanation.

Without hesitation, she grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. The room was quiet for a moment, save for the distant hum of the oven and the occasional bubbling of something on the stove. Then, instead of walking straight back to the kitchen, Mo’nique veered toward the record player sitting next to her bookshelf.

Unique’s eyes lifted from the comic, watching as she crouched slightly, thumbing through a stack of vinyls with the same kind of careful selection she used when she was prepping ingredients. His interest was piqued—not just at the records, but at the ease with which she moved through this space, the quiet confidence in how she did things without making a big show of it.

A moment later, the soft crackle of the record player filled the air before the unmistakable voice of Sade poured into the room.

“This may come… this may come as some surprise…”

Unique recognized it immediately. Love Deluxe. The kind of album you let play straight through without skipping a single track. His lips twitched in amusement as he glanced between the page in his hands and the woman in front of him, absorbing one more than the other.

Mo’nique, still facing the record player, adjusted the volume slightly before swaying a bit as she made her way back to the kitchen.

“I won’t pretend that I intend to stop living…”

Unique let the words settle over him, leaning back into the couch as he took it in. After a few seconds, he finally spoke. “You got good taste.”

Mo’nique turned her head slightly, stirring something in a pot as she smirked. “You surprised?” She asked.

Unique shook his head with pursed lips. “Nah,” He admitted, setting the comic down on the arm of the couch. “I just ain’t met a lot of people my age who actually own vinyls. It’s all about the cast now.” He shrugged before looking over at the stand that held the records, and he could recognize most through the class. “You got a nice collection.”

She chuckled, glancing over at him. “Ain’t nothin’ like hearin’ music the way it’s supposed to sound. Ain’t nothing gon’ ever replace this.” She stated, gesturing very to her record stand. Unique nodded in agreement, a spark of appreciation in his eyes. “You sound like me. I had something like a record shop back in the day.” He added.

Mo’nique arched a brow, pausing for a second. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Unique said, stretching an arm along the back of the couch. “Had everything in there—old school, jazz, soul, hip-hop. Kept the classics in rotation. People used to come in just to talk music, even if they wasn’t buyin’ nothin’ or getting tailored.”

Mo’nique smiled, clearly impressed. “That’s dope. You still got it?” She asked. And Unique hesitated. He blinked, glancing at the spinning record before shaking his head. “Some like that.” He said. He didn’t elaborate, and Mo’nique didn’t press. Instead, she simply hummed in acknowledgment, letting the music fill the space between them again.

“I won’t pretend… I’m good at forgiving…”

She stirred the pot once more, then moved to check on the steak in the oven, the glow of the kitchen light making her sweatshirt appear almost silver as she moved. Unique watched her, his fingers absently drumming against the couch as he took in the scene.

“You a big Sade fan?” He asked after a beat.

Mo’nique grinned. “Huge. My sisters used to play her albums when our mama made us clean the house.”

Unique smirked, nodding. “A classic for real. ‘Cherish the Day’ might be my favorite track off this one.”

“Mmm,” Mo’nique hummed approvingly. “That’s a good one. But for me? It’s ‘Kiss of Life.’ Great song.”

Unique chuckled, shaking his head. “You a romantic.” He stated more than asked.

She let out a small scoff, giving him a knowing look. “And you ain’t? I mean, who the hell isn’t?”She asked. But Unique simply tilted his head, considering. “I appreciate good music, that’s all.” He shrugged.

Mo’nique laughed softly, shaking her head before turning back toward the stove. The room felt lighter now, more familiar in a way that hadn’t been there before. Unique stretched out his legs, letting the smooth melodies wash over him, feeling…an odd sense of peace.

“So, what happened with the record shop?” Mo’nique asked, her voice cutting through the music. She kept her tone casual, but there was a pointed curiosity behind it. Unique exhaled through his nose, shifting slightly. He didn’t look up from the book, his jaw tensing momentarily as quick thoughts of recent events played out in his mind. “Had to let it go.” He said, but even as the words left his mouth, he knew that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t just a shop. It had never just been a shop. And something about the way she was looking at him over her shoulder told him she knew that, too.

She arched a brow at his silence, waiting to see if there was more before she spoke again. His tongue poked at his cheek, the habit of keeping shit vague kicking in before he could stop it. “Wasn’t just a record store.” He admitted finally, the words slow, careful. He didn’t really know why he was presenting this information. It’s not like he trusted Mo’nique or anything. But his life was in her hands, in a way, and she hadn’t done anything to prove that she was unworthy of a little openness between them. “Had some… other things tied up in it. Business got hot, I had to step away.” He practically mumbled.

Mo’nique hummed, scraping the bottom of the pan with her spoon. “Mmm. I figured it was something like that.

Unique’s gaze drifted up towards her, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Is that right?” He asked.

Mo’nique turned to him with a small smirk. “C’mon, Nique. A young nigga in the ’90s owning a record shop and actually making real money off it? Either you had old money, or you had a side hustle. And, not to be a bitch, nothing about you gives trust fund baby, B.” She says, a small wince on her face near the end.

Unique let out an audacious chortle, shaking his head. “And you peeped all that from Earl dropping me off on your doorstep?”

“I peep everything.” She said simply with a shrug, moving to chop up some fresh parsley before she let out a large sigh. “It ain’t nothing new.” She mumbled, but it was loud enough for Unique to hear her over the cooking, causing him to question what that statement meant. For a second, he just watched her, waiting for the follow-up questions—the ones that usually came whenever people got even the slightest inkling of what he did. The ones about how deep he was in, how much money he made, whether he’d ever been locked up.

But Mo’nique didn’t ask. She didn’t even look surprised. She just took it in stride, like it was just another piece of information about him, no different than him telling her his favorite color.

It threw him off a little.

He tapped a finger against his knee, watching her from the couch. “You don’t wanna ask nothin’ else?” He asked, and though somewhat genuinely, he was trying to pry more context out of her due to her previous statement.

Mo’nique shrugged. “Nah.”

Unique blinked. “Nah?”

“Nah.” She tossed the chopped parsley into the pan. “Ain’t my business unless you want it to be.”

That made him pause. Most people either wanted in, wanted to know the extent of it, or wanted to use it against him somehow. But she? She really didn’t seem to care one way or another. Something about that settled in his chest in a way he didn’t expect.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The meal came together smoothly, the air rich with the aroma of seared steak, garlic-buttered potatoes, and slow-cooked greens. Mo’nique worked with an effortless rhythm, moving between the stove and counter, plating everything with the same care she put into cooking. She drizzled a dark, velvety sauce over the steak, letting it settle before giving it a final once-over. Satisfied, she grabbed a fork and knife, setting them on the plate before heading toward the living room.

Unique was still lounging on the couch, one hand draped lazily over his stomach, the other flipping absentmindedly through another comic from her collection. He glanced up when she walked in, his eyes flicking from the plate in her hands to her face.

“You ain’t gotta serve me like that, B.” He muttered though he was already sitting up, adjusting himself to make room.

Mo’nique smacked her lips. “What are you gonna do? Come get it?” She asked, and before he could even think of what to say to her jab, she rolled her eyes. “Just eat the damn food.”

She pulled the coffee table closer before setting the plate down in front of him, then grabbed her own and sat beside him. The television remained off, the room bathed in the soft golden glow from the lamps, and Sade’s voice floated through the space like silk, setting an easy, intimate mood.

Unique picked up his fork, cutting into the steak. The first bite was met with a deep, satisfied hum. “Damn,” he said, glancing over at her. “Aight, I gotta give it to you. You did that.”

Mo’nique smirked. “I know.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he scooped up some potatoes next. They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the occasional scrape of silverware and the soft croon of Kiss of Life playing in the background.

After a few bites, Unique leaned back against the couch, his gaze drifting toward her. “Aight, so I told you about me. What’s your story?”

Mo’nique lifted a brow. “My story?” She asked, chewing.

“Yeah.” He nodded toward her. “You know shit about me, but I don’t know much about you ‘cept that you know how to cook, you got good taste in music, and you read comics. What else?”

She stabbed a piece of steak, chewing thoughtfully. “Ain’t much to tell.” She muttered, looking off in thought as her mind tried to come open with something.

Unique gave her a look. “C’mon, B. Ain’t nobody that simple.” He said, raising a brow at her. Conversation was light between them, a track contrast from the small pout they found themselves in yesterday. But everything seemed to be progressing nicely, and they both thought that maybe their time together after all wouldn’t be that bad.

Mo’nique smirked, tilting her head slightly before glancing away. She hadn’t expected him to ask about her, not like this. Most men in his position were content with talking about themselves, but Unique seemed genuinely curious.

She exhaled, rolling her shoulders. “I’m from Harlem. Move to Queens five years ago for work after I graduated. Been on my own for a minute now. I nurse old people sometimes, keep to myself.” She listed plainly before looking over at him once she finished.

Unique nodded slowly, waiting for more.

Mo’nique shot him a look. “What?” She asked, tilting her head

“You said sometimes. Is nursing all you do?”

“I do hair sometimes,” She said, sipping from her glass of water. Unique hummed, watching her as he took another bite. “You got people out here?” He questioned, such a question sounded weird coming from his mouth, but Mo’nique didn’t seem phased.

“Not really.” She shrugged, pushing her greens around her plate. “Cousins and whatnot, but I don’t be around them like that. Just Earl when he feels like bothering me.” She said, and let out a sigh at the thought of the man.

Unique smirked. “Yeah, I peeped that.”

She rolled her eyes. “I guess he means well. I don’t see it. And he annoying as hell.” She stated.

“Ain’t that what cousins supposed to be?”

Mo’nique chuckled at that, shaking her head.

For a while, they just ate, letting the conversation flow naturally. Unique asked questions here and there—nothing too deep, but enough to get a feel for her. And Mo’nique, to her own surprise, found herself answering without hesitation. It felt nice to open up like this. It’s been a while since she’s done out and spoken to someone new, and getting to experience and tell stories all over again.

There was an ease to it, the kind of thing that didn’t need to be forced. And as the record played on, and their plates gradually emptied, it became clear that, somehow, without even realizing it, they had settled into something… familiar. Something comfortable.

Neither of them said it out loud, but they both felt it.

“Speaking of family,” Mo’nique said, cutting another piece of steak. “My sisters and their kids sometimes visit on the weekends. Just giving you a heads up.”

She glanced over at Unique, a small smile playing on her lips. He had slowed down on his food, now just lazily pushing the last bit of potatoes around with his fork. He raised a brow at her words.

“How many you got?” He asked.

“Two. Both older,” she answered. “Tasha and Renee. They got four kids between them.”

Unique hummed, nodding. “You close with ‘em?”

“Mhm. They were on my ass heavy growing up,” Mo’nique admitted, smirking slightly. “Acted like they was my mama sometimes and other times I couldn’t even get them to hang out with me.”

He chuckled at that, picturing it. “That's why you left Harlem? Needed space?”

Mo’nique’s smile faded a bit as she looked down at her plate. She leaned back slightly, rolling her shoulders. “Something like that.” She said tensely. “Harlem’s always gon’ be home, but it started feeling too small, you know? Needed a change, and Queens felt… I dunno, different.” She shrugged, reluctantly glancing up at him. Their eyes connected but her behavior didn’t seem to be apparent to him, or he simply ignored it.

Unique nodded slowly like he understood exactly what she meant. “Yeah. I get that.” He sighed, looking down at his own plate.

She watched him for a beat, curiosity flickering in her gaze. “You ever think about leaving?” She asked softly. Unique chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before exhaling sharply through his nose. “Nah.” He said, looking back up at her. “This home. This all I know.” He shrugged. There was something in the way he said it—final, but not necessarily proud. His words seemed to settle after he said them, the man clenching his jaw as thoughts of every moment that happened, leading up to the predicament he was in currently. His finger flexed as his mind flashed thoughts about his brother, but blinking seemed to do the trick to settle the rage he could feel building up.

Mo’nique noticed but didn’t press. She simply nodded, accepting his answer as it was. A quiet moment passed between them before the phone rang again.

She barely thought about it before moving, instinct kicking in as she sat her plate on the glass table and leaned across Unique—again.

This time, she still wasn’t as careful about the space between them as she moved out of habit, but her eyes caught his just as her fingers wrapped around the receiver.

Her breath hitched.

He was staring at her, those dark eyes locked onto hers, unreadable but intense. She hadn’t realized just how close she had gotten, her chest nearly brushing his. And he noticed how long and luscious his lashes made his brown irises. For a split second, she couldn’t move, frozen under the weight of his gaze.

Unique didn’t say a word, didn’t move either—just sat there, watching her.

Mo’nique swallowed, tightening her grip on the phone before pulling back, blinking as if shaking something off. She sat back into her spot, crossing her legs softly before holding the phone up to her ear.

“Hello?” She said, voice smooth despite the slight flutter in her stomach.

The sound of faint music and chatter filled her ear before a familiar voice cut through.

“Girl, where you at? We all about to go out tonight. You coming or what?”

Mo’nique sighed lightly, already shaking her head. “I can’t tonight.”

“What you mean you can’t? You said—”

“You know my sisters sometimes come over on the weekends.” She cut in smoothly, her voice holding a faux sadness like she truly regretted it. She glanced at Unique as she spoke, catching him watching her again, though this time he was back to eating as if the moment between them hadn’t just happened.

Her friend groaned on the other end, clearly not buying it but knowing better than to argue. “Man, whatever. You always got some excuse.”

Mo’nique smirked. “You’ll live.”

Her friend sucked her teeth before finally hanging up.

Mo’nique lowered the phone, exhaling softly as she set it back down. She turned her attention back to Unique, who was still watching her, still eating, still relaxed. She picked her plate back up, schooling her face into something unreadable as she resumed eating, pretending like nothing had happened.

Unique eyed her as she picked up her plate, acting like he hadn’t just watched her come apart for a second when she leaned over him. He let her have her moment, let her pretend, but he wasn’t gonna let her slide that easy.

“Who was that?” He asked, his tone casual, but his eyes sharp.

Mo’nique jerked her head back slightly, her lips curling into a teasing grin. “Uh! Is that any of your business?” She quipped.

Unique let out a short breath of air, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff. He shook his head, leaning back against the couch, his tongue running over his teeth.

“Sorry.” He muttered, throwing his hands up slightly.

Mo’nique smirked before stabbing another piece of steak with her fork. “If you must know.” She said, chewing slowly, drawing it out. “It was one of my homegirls. They wanted me to go out tonight.” She said uninterestedly.

Unique’s chewing slowed as he took in what she just said to him, and the conversation he heard her have over the phone. His jaw tensed slightly, brows furrowing as something shifted behind his eyes. “You could’ve went out tonight.” He said, his voice noticeably flatter.

Mo’nique blinked at his tone, her fork pausing midway to her mouth. “I mean, I guess, but I didn’t really want to.” She shrugged.

“Yeah, but you said your sisters were here,” Unique shot back. “Your sisters ain’t here.” He stated with a shake of his head.

Mo’nique’s brow lifted, her lips parting slightly at his sudden shift in tone. “Well, I couldn’t say there’s a man in my home that I’m taking care of, could I?” She pointed out. And though she was still poking fun, her situation was obviously true and real for both of them.

But that didn’t land the way she thought it would.

Unique’s face twisted, something dark flickering in his eyes as he straightened up slightly. “See! That’s why you ain’t wanna go.” His voice edged with something heated now, something irritated. “I’m not keeping you from going out. You can go have fun. I ain’t some fuckin’ baby that needs your constant attention.” He hissed

Mo’nique narrowed her eyes at his sudden mood change, jaw tightening. “I didn’t say you were, Unique.” She stated in a firm tone as she became increasingly angry.

“You didn’t fucking have to, Mo’nique.” He snapped.

She stared at him for a moment, letting his words sit in the air before exhaling sharply through her nose. She put her plate down on the coffee table, sitting up straighter.

“You doin’ a lot right now,” She said, shaking her head as she let out a humorless chuckle to stop herself from becoming angrier. It’s why she set the plate down. Not only because was she done was eating, but having a knife and fork in her hands wasn’t going to make her feel any better with a man currently yelling at her. Unique scoffed, his tongue clicking against his teeth. “Nah, you doin’ a lot.” He shot back. “Lyin’ about why you ain’t wanna go. Actin’ like you stuck here, or some shit. Like I got you tied up in this motherfucker.” He grumbled, the plate on his lap long forgotten as he dropped his utensils a while ago. He let out a tired sigh as he moved the plate to the table as well, feeling his annoyance rise, though he didn’t see how irrational it was.

Mo’nique’s lips pressed together, her temper starting to bubble. “I didn’t lie, nigga, I just didn’t feel like goin’.” She said firmly. “And you not about to sit here and act like I said somethin’ I didn’t.”

Unique shook his head, his knee bouncing now, his hands rubbing against his sweatpants. His head was starting to ache and throb, pressure building behind his eyes, and for some reason, it all just irritated the fuck out of him. “You don’t even know me like that,” He muttered, shaking his head. “So you can quit actin’ like I need takin’ care of.”

Mo’nique scoffed at him and threw her hands up. “Nigga, you got a whole ass head injury! You can barely fucking walk! You do need takin’ care of!” She yelled. “Matter of fact, you need a fucking doctor from an actual hospital!” She shouted, looking over at him.

That made Unique’s jaw clench, his nostrils flaring as he exhaled sharply. He wanted to argue that, wanted to bark something back at her, but he couldn’t. Not without lying. Mo’nique watched his face, saw the way his frustration boiled under the surface, and sighed heavily. She shook her head, running a hand over her face.

“I stayed ‘cause I wanted to, Unique. Not ‘cause I had to.” She said, her tone softer but still firm. “Ain’t nobody makin’ me do shit.”

But Unique’s knee kept bouncing, his jaw working. He tapped his fingers against his thigh, his head still pulsing, his mood still sour, but he didn’t say anything for a long moment. Stewing in his own head while the music played on in the background, Sade’s voice smoothing over the tension in the room. Mo’nique’s words hung in the air for a second, but Unique wasn’t the type to let shit slide—not when he was already on edge. Then finally, with a low scoff, he muttered, “Whatever, man.” He said, shaking his head.

Mo’nique rolled her eyes at him before picking her plate back up and scoffing. “Childish ass.” She mumbled as she walked over to dump the scraps from her plate and then placed the dirty dishes in the sink, the ceramic and metal clacking together loudly.

His head snapped toward her as she walked away, eyes sharp, something dangerous flickering behind them. “The fuck you just say?” His voice was low, like the warning before the storm.

Mo’nique turned and met his glare head-on, not backing down. “You heard me.” She said.

Unique let out a dry, humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees. “Oh, so now I’m childish? ‘Cause I ain’t sittin’ here lettin’ you treat me like I’m some fuckin’ burden? Are you stupid?”

Mo’nique’s lips parted slightly, her frustration bubbling over as she turned to face him full in, walking back over into the living room. “Watch your fucking mouth, Unique! I never said that shit! You keep twisting my words like I said somethin’ I didn’t because you’re in your fucking feelings or whateva!” She yelled, frantically waving her hands since it was the only thing that could explain any of the shit he had running through his mind.

Unique scoffed, looking away for a second before snapping his eyes back to her. “You did, though. The way you said it—like you ‘takin’ care’ of me. Like I need you! Like I’m some lil’ nigga you gotta look after. I don’t need shit from you!”

Mo’nique let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. “You act like I said you was helpless. I ain’t say none of that. You the one that got in your feelings over some shit I ain’t even mean like that.”

Unique’s jaw tightened, his fingers moving to press against his forehead as the pain behind his eyes became too much, making everything feel ten times worse. “Man, you don’t get it.” He muttered. “You just don’t fucking it get it!”

Mo’nique narrowed her eyes. “Then explain it to me.” She said, placing her hand on her hips.

Unique looked at her then, really looked at her, like he was trying to decide if it was even worth saying out loud. But his head was hot, his emotions tangled, and the words slipped out before he could stop them. “I spent my whole life makin’ sure I was the one takin’ care of shit. I built myself up, made my name, made sure nobody ever had to look after me.” He said fondly, hitting his hand against his chest as he looked up at her. “So yeah, when you sittin’ here talkin’ like I’m some responsibility—like I’m some job—I don’t like that shit.” He hissed.

Mo’nique stared at him for a second, processing, before shaking her head. “That’s your ego, Unique. Not reality. And that ain’t my fucking problem.” She spat. And even though she was angry, she didn’t feel bad for the man. She always had, since he arrived. She didn’t know what he did to end up in the situation he was in, but living with pain had to be a fate worse than dying, and his pain was unimaginable. But she couldn’t sit here and just let this man disrespect her, even if she was going through shit she couldn’t quite fathom.

Unique shook his head, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, his irritation still simmering. But for some reason, when she said that, when she poked at him just a little bit, it made something in his chest twist—not in anger, but in something else. Something that made him drag his eyes over her, from the way she stood up all defensive, to the way she was holding that fork earlier like she might jab him with it if he said something outta pocket.

Silence stretched between them for a second, the air thick, charged.

Then, finally, Unique let out a breath, shaking his head with an almost amused smirk. “You a piece of work, you know that?”

Mo’nique smirked right back. “And yet, here you are, still sittin’ in my house.”

Unique let out a dry laugh, low and humorless. “Yeah, here I am.” His voice was tight, his jaw clenched. “And maybe that’s the problem.”

Mo’nique’s faux smirk faltered for half a second before she scoffed, folding her arms. “The problem?” She echoed, eyes narrowing. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Unique sat up, his body tense, his glare sharp. “It means maybe I shouldn’t be here! Maybe I should’ve never been here in the first place!” His voice boomed through the apartment, bouncing off the walls.

Mo’nique let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “Oh, so now it’s my fault you sittin’ in my damn house? I ain’t force you to be here, Unique! You think I dragged your ass off the street and made you sit on my couch?”

“You ain’t force me, huh? Oh okay, you ain’t force me.” Unique leaned forward, eyes blazing. “Then why the fuck you actin’ like you stuck with me or some shit?“

Mo’nique threw her hands up. “When the fuck did I ever say that?!” She asked. “Huh?! When? You makin’ shit up in your head and then gettin’ mad about it like that shit real!” She yelled.

Unique slammed a fist against his thigh, his breathing ragged. “You think I’m makin’ shit up? You think I don’t see the way you act? The way you talk to me like I’m some charity case?”

Mo’nique’s eyes widened, and then she snapped.

“You know what? Fuck you, Unique!” She shouted, stepping closer, her voice shaking with anger. “Ain’t nobody treatin’ you like no goddamn charity case!” She said, getting closer to where he sat on the couch. “You sittin’ here poutin’ like a little fucking boy ‘cause I ain’t tell my homegirls I got a nigga laid up in my house? Is that what you’re really angry at? Huh! Is that it? You want me to put you on the lease or some shit? You want me to announce you?”

“Don’t play with me, Mo’nique.” Unique’s voice was low and lethal, his chest rising and falling as he glared at her.

“Or what? What the fuck you gon’ do?” She snapped right back, stepping even closer, damn near toe-to-toe with him and she bent down to be near his eyes level. “’Cause you ain’t scarin’ me, nigga. At all! You wanna throw a tantrum ‘cause I chose to stay in instead of goin’ out? Like I made that choice ‘cause of you? Get the fuck over yourself!”

Unique was breathing hard now, his fists clenched at his sides, his body rigid. His head was pounding, the anger clawing up his throat, his vision damn near shaking.

“You so full of shit, Mo’nique!” He bellowed, his voice vibrating through the walls as she shouted in her face.

“And you so damn insecure, Unique!” She fired back, eyes blazing. “What, you think every little thing I say is some secret message about how I don’t want you here? Like I gotta prove somethin’ to you every damn second? Ain’t nobody got time for that shit! Nigga, I barely fucking know you!”

Unique’s nostrils flared as they glared at each other, the air between them thick, electric with tension, their chests heaving, their bodies taut like they were seconds away from either tearing each other apart.

Mo’nique then suddenly scoffed and turned away, shaking her head as she snatched his plate off the table. “Is that it? Is that all?” She asked him. “Cause I’m done talkin’ to you, man.” She muttered.

“Good,” Unique snapped, flopping back against the couch with a sharp exhale. “Shit.”

And so the air between them was still thick with the remnants of their argument, tension hanging like smoke in the small apartment. Mo’nique moved through the kitchen with mechanical precision, scraping the plates into the sink and washing them with a quick but forceful scrub, the sound of water splashing echoing around the apartment. She wasn’t sure if she was cleaning out of necessity or out of sheer frustration—maybe a little of both. Her movements were sharp and quick, and there was an edge to her, a rawness in the way she held herself that hadn’t been there before the argument.

Unique, meanwhile, had collapsed back onto the couch, his body sinking into the cushions as his head throbbed with the aftermath of both his injury and the fight. The heat of anger still simmered beneath his skin, but the fatigue was quickly drowning it out. He stared at the ceiling, willing the pounding in his skull to ease, his mind racing over what had just happened. He was pissed—pissed that she didn’t get it, that she couldn’t see why he didn’t want to be coddled. But that didn’t mean the argument was over. It couldn’t be. Not yet.

Mo’nique finished cleaning the dishes and wiped the counters with a quick swipe of the rag, tossing it onto the sink and wiping her hands on a dry one. She didn’t say a word to him as she turned away, but she could feel his eyes on her as she walked across the room. She could feel the heat of his gaze even without looking at him as she walked to her room, and it made her skin crawl. It wasn’t the same look from earlier—it wasn’t even anger now. But it was something else.

She sighed once she walked into the space and then looked at the couch. She’d promised him she’d help him get to bed, but the idea of sharing the same space after what just went down didn’t sit well with her. She needed space, but he was hurt—he was the one who needed help. But she needed to get ready for bed before he even thought of the idea of entertaining him.

It wasn’t long beefed she walked back out of the room, in tight shorts and a basketball jersey with her hair wrapped. She made quick work of cutting off the record player after she walked into the small living room. She still looked angry from the argument that occurred moments ago, and it was also evident in her tone as she stood near the coffee table and spoke. “It’s time for bed.” She said flatly, her voice betraying nothing of the emotion she was hiding.

He didn’t move at first. Just stared at her for a moment. His expression was hard to read, but she caught the way his jaw clenched, the way he shifted as if he was torn between stubbornness and physical pain.

“You gonna help me or not?” He asked, his voice rough from the shouting.

Mo’nique rolled her eyes. “If I wasn’t going to help you, I would’ve left your ass here.” She said. She then walked over to him and offered her hand. He stared at it for a long beat, his brow furrowed. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want help—it was that he hated needing it. And he hated that she knew it. She always seemed to know just when to push his buttons.

He took her hand, though, begrudgingly, allowing her to help him up. They moved slowly, his body aching with each step as she guided him toward the bedroom. The silence between them was heavy, thick with unspoken words. They hadn’t resolved anything. It felt like the argument was still alive like it was hanging over them, waiting to be picked up again.

When they made it to the bed, Unique collapsed onto it, groaning in pain, his hand pressing against his ribs as if he could somehow ease the ache. Mo’nique stood over him, arms crossed, looking down at him for a moment. She wasn’t sure if she was still mad at him or just frustrated with the whole damn situation.

“You need your meds.” She stated, her voice a little softer now, though it was still tinged with irritation.

Unique nodded, eyes closed, his face tense. “Yeah.”

Mo’nique went to the dresser, grabbed the pills and a bottle of water, and brought them back to him. She handed him the water first, then the pills, watching him swallow them without a second thought. He looked almost too tired to care.

She stood there for a second, looking at him, her arms still crossed. Her patience was thin, but there was something else, too. Something like concern buried beneath the anger. “You’re gonna be alright?” She asked, the question slipping out before she could stop it. She couldn’t help herself.

Unique didn’t answer right away. His eyes flickered up to meet hers, and there was something unreadable in his gaze before his eyes drifted away seconds later. “I’ll be fine.” He mumbled.

Mo’nique nodded, swallowing the sigh that threatened to rise in her throat. She turned to leave, already planning to crash on the couch for the night. She couldn’t be in the same bed with him after everything that happened. She didn’t want to sleep next to the guy who just screamed at her.

But before she could walk away, his voice stopped her again.

“Where you going?”

She turned, an eyebrow raised in challenge. “I’m not sleeping in here with you, Nique. You know that.” She sighed.

A few moments passed before Unique finally spoke, his voice low, strained, as though it hurt to admit something. “You don’t have to sleep out there.” He said. “I know…. we have our troubles, but you don’t have to do that. Be out there alone.” He uttered.

Mo’nique stared at him, a mix of disbelief and frustration clouding her face. “What, now you want me to babysit you? After all that?” She asked, gesturing a hand out of the room, alluding to the whole reason there was so much tension between them, to begin with, all while trying her best to surprise the way his words tugged at an unfamiliar place deep within her chest.

He didn’t back down, his gaze hardening, his tone firm. “I’m not asking you to babysit. I’m asking you to be here.” He admitted.

And she wasn’t sure why, but something in his voice—the vulnerability beneath all the bullshit—struck a nerve. She took a slow, steady breath, trying to steady herself, to figure out what the hell to do with this whole situation. Mo’nique didn’t know whether to feel relieved or irritated. There was something so raw about his admission, something that made the hardness in her heart crack just a little. She stayed quiet for a moment longer, biting back the urge to snap something back at him.

She didn’t want to give in. She didn’t want to let him win. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that he was hurt, that he needed help in a way that went beyond just the physical. And maybe that was the worst part—because no matter how mad she was, she couldn’t just walk away and leave him to deal with this shit on his own.

Mo’nique let out a long sigh, biting her lip. She turned back to him, walking slowly to the bed and sitting on the edge.

“I’ll stay.” She said quietly, her voice softer than before. “But I swear, if you pull this shit again tomorrow, I’m out. Don’t think this means I’m just gonna forget everything.” She stated firmly, not meeting his gaze.

Unique gave her a tired, almost defeated nod. He didn’t argue. For the first time that night, the fire in his eyes had dulled. He still looked sort of pissed— frustrated. But there was something in the way his posture had softened, something in the way his voice had changed when he spoke, that made Mo’nique realize maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the only one who needed to cool off.

“Fine. I get it.” He muttered, his eyes drifting closed.

Mo’nique stayed by the bed, watching him for a moment before leaning back against the headboard. She didn’t try to get comfortable, not yet. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to forgive or forget. But for now, they were here. In this moment, together. Silent, but present.

The argument still lingered in the air, but at least they weren’t yelling anymore. And maybe that was enough.

The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of Mo’nique breathing, trying to settle her thoughts. Her gaze kept drifting towards Unique, who was now lying in bed, under the covers with his eyes closed, the tension in his face giving away just how much the day had taken out of him. He looked fragile, vulnerable in a way that made her stomach twist. The anger was still simmering beneath her skin, but it was buried under layers of exhaustion, the kind that only came from spending hours fighting someone who should have understood her better.

She shifted uncomfortably on the edge of the bed, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt, biting her lip as she tried to hold back the urge to say something—anything—to break the silence. But she didn’t know what to say. She had nothing left in her to keep the argument going, but still, something tugged at her chest.

A few moments passed before Unique finally spoke, his voice low, strained, as though it hurt to admit something. “I know…I know I’m not the easiest to be around right now.” He mumbled. His words then hung in the air, heavy with meaning. She didn’t say anything in response, just letting out a sigh as she began to sink down in the slot next to him, letting exhaustion guide her. She wasn’t ready to forgive, but she was willing to try to make peace.

With a sigh, she shifted on the bed, her shoulder brushing against his as she finally spoke. “I’m not perfect either, Nique.” She said, her voice soft as she spoke with her eyes closed, her head tilted his way. “I know I pushed your buttons. I didn’t mean to go off on you like that.” She said it quietly, the words coming out slower than she wanted, but they felt necessary. She didn’t want to be angry anymore. Not tonight.

His eyes were locked on her face, expression softer now, though his eyes still held the same exhaustion. “I get it.” He said, taking this opportunity to really analyze her features since she was so close and resting. “I get why you were mad. And… I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just… I don’t like feeling like I’m a burden.” He admitted quietly.

Mo’nique’s breath caught slightly, hearing the vulnerability in his voice. “You’re not a burden, Nique.” She murmured, opening her eyes and connecting them with his, those of which were already on her. Her voice was quieter now, less harsh. “But you can’t shut me out when you need help. You can’t push me away like that.” She stated.

He looked at her before he nodded slowly, his eyes meeting hers for the first time in what felt like forever. “I know. I’m sorry. I… I’ll try to do better.”

She didn’t answer him right away. Instead, she just let out a long breath, leaning her head back against her pillow. She felt the tension in her body start to loosen, the weight of the argument slowly slipping away as she closed her eyes for a moment.

“I’m not saying I’ll be perfect either,” Mo’nique said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But… we’ve gotta figure this out. I don’t want to keep fighting with you.” She admitted softly.

Unique didn’t say anything else for a long while, and they sat there together in the quiet of the room, the weight of everything still there, but no longer feeling like it was going to tear them apart. The silence stretched between them, thick but not suffocating. Her eyes closed, his eyes on her. She didn’t expect everything to be fixed right away, but maybe—just maybe—they were both ready to start trying.

Finally, Unique shifted in bed, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. “I don’t need you to fix everything, Mo’nique. I just need you to be here.” His voice was soft, a little hoarse like he was saying something he’d been too stubborn to admit before.

Mo’nique smiled faintly at the admission, even though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She was still processing it all—still sorting through the mess of their feelings and the remnants of the fight. But for the first time that night, it didn’t feel like the world was closing in on her. For the first time that night, things felt… quieter.

“Fine.” She said, her voice low but firm before she yawned. “But if you ever pull that shit again, Nique…”

He let out a quiet chuckle, cutting her off. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll be good.”

Mo’nique nodded, his gaze softening as he glanced over at her. She felt the heat in her chest, the anger still there—but for the first time in hours, it was starting to subside.

“Good night, Unique.” She said quietly, her voice almost a whisper.

He closed his eyes, his hand resting by his side. “Good night, Mo’nique.”

And for the first time all night, they both finally let themselves relax, letting the weight of their arguments fade as they drifted into an uneasy, but much-needed, silence.

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