#Sorry Im having Many Thoughts about Six

[malhare-archive]

The line “mommy, I want to play with the man in the tv!” hits different now that we know it’s Six

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 

He looks good. Almost too good. 

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 

You cover his hand with your own. 

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come���instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm. 

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 

“Yes, please.” 

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 

He knows. 

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 

24 hours go by. 

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration. 

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment. 

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry. 

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding. 

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 

“You regret your first time?” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 

You want to scream bloody murder. 

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse. 

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 

“Goodnight.”

-

part five

[confusionmeisss]

“𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫” 𝐠𝐟 - 𝐦. 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

🫧 matt sturniolo x fem!reader

🫧 in which you play dress to impress with matt during one of his solo streams

🫧 fluff

🫧 1.4k words.

🫧 hi lovelies!! thank u so much for reading! i was playing dress to impress and i was like just thinking like when i say im a gamer this is what i mean. i play the silly fun games. so i wanted to write matt with a girl like that as well. i hope u enjoy!!!! much love!! <3

You sat on the bed, back against the headboard and one headphone in your ear watching Matt play Fortnite. It could honestly get a little boring, but Matt was cute to look at when he got upset, so you persevered.

“Oh, yeah she’s right over here,” you hear Matt say with a chuckle. You look up from your hand where you were peeling a piece of nail polish off your finger to see him leaning over looking at you.

“Hi,” He says with a grin.

“Hello. Weren’t you just playing Fortnite?”

“Mhm. But they asked about you,” he says, pointing his thumb to where the Twitch chat is on his screen.

“Ah,” you let out, getting up from the bed, you make your way over to Matt and sit yourself down on his lap.

“Hey y’all,” you say with a wave. “How is everyone? I hope you’re behaving yourselves.”

You feel Matt place his chin on your shoulder as you're reading through chat.

“‘Where did you get that shirt?’ Well, thank you for asking mattsbabygirl33, I found it in the depths of Nick's closet. Swear that kid has too many clothes,” you answer with a small laugh.

“‘Thoughts on cuddling?’ I love cuddles! Matt and I alternate between big and little spoon throughout the week!”

“Don’t tell,” Matt grumbles, burying his face into your neck. You reach a hand up to run it through his hair.

“Sorry love,” you laugh.

“I think as penance you have to finally give in and play a game on stream.”

“Can I at least pick the game?”

“‘Course,” Matt says, placing a kiss on your cheek.

You grin and lean forward, placing your hands on the mouse and keyboard.

“Don’t look, I want it to be a surprise!”

“Ok,” you hear Matt chuckle as you click around, before you start typing, then more clicking.

“Alright! You can look now!”

“What,” Matt asks slowly, “are we playing exactly?” He’s eying the block model on screen with confusion, and it makes you giggle.

“Dress To Impress! It’s a game on Roblox! I play it all the time when it’s real slow at work.”

“Okay. How do we play?”

“So, well right now we’re in intermission, but once that’s over we’ll be given a theme, and then we’ll have to dress up to the theme, and then we’ll model and vote, and see who ranks in the end. Then we do it over again.”

“Okay, sounds easy enough.”

You smile as you look at the screen noticing intermission is gonna be over in six seconds.

You eagerly lean forward, placing your hand on the keyboard. Grinning once you see the theme pop up.

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐄

You got this in the bag. You practically grew up on Barbie.

You look over at Matt. “Ready?”

“Totally.”

You start moving your model around, making your way over to skirts to start off your look, going for the classic Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse. Once you’ve chosen your skirt and changed the color to fuchsia, you start looking for a top, then move on to shoes, before moving on to accessories.

“You have two minutes left!” Matt informs you.

“Oh trust me that’s plenty of time,” You respond, making your way towards the salon section to do hair and makeup.

“Which blonde looks better?” You ask Matt, switching between the two colors.

“Second one.”

You nod. “I was thinkin the same.”

You click the spacebar and watch your model hop out of the chair before you make your way over to the skin tone changer.

As soon as your model hops out, the screen goes black and states that voting is about to start.

The first model starts walking down the car walk and stops to pose and for you to vote.

“What the hell?” Matt says. “They’re not even on theme!”

“Yeah, that happens a lot,” You say with a sigh, keeping the vote on one star.

You and Matt vote and commentate on the next few outfits before it’s your turn.

“Oh, it’s us!” You clap happily. “Ok we have to pose,” you add after, moving the mouse toward the poses.

“I wanna pick,” Matt says, reaching over, making you move your hand.

“You gotta be quick with it.”

“Got it,” he says. You watch as he clicks through the poses, his tongue peeking out a little in concentration.

“Oh, our turns up!”

“We were the last to go, so now we see the top three winners.”

You both watch the screen change to announce the top three, the both of you hoping to be up on the podium somewhere.

“What the fuck!?” Matt exclaims, throwing his hands up, his brows furrowing. “None of them were even on theme!”

“As it happens,” you sigh, scrolling to see where you ended up ranking. Sixth place out of eight.

“I wanna play again,” Matt decides. “But I wanna dress the model this time.”

“Alright,” you agree easily. “We'll just have to wait in intermission before we’re given a new theme.”

You feel Matt nod as he rests his head back on your shoulder as you start to undress your model.

“‘This is why I can’t play this game, it’s just filled with nine year olds who don’t understand the theme’ Yeah, I feel you,” you respond to the chat. “That’s why I only really play when it’s slow at work, cause then I can’t publicly get too pissed.”

You’re reading through the chat, seeing if there’s anything else you wanna respond to when Matt taps your thigh.

“Eight seconds,” he mutters.

“Well, you’re dressing to impress this round, so get your hands ready mister.”

His hands snake around you to land on the keyboard and mouse and as soon as they land the next theme appears on screen.

𝐘𝟐𝐊

“Oh this should be so easy!” You gasp. “All you have to do is channel your inner Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, even Tarayummy!”

“You’ve got this,” you say, placing an encouraging kiss on Matt’s cheek.

“Mhm,” he hums, concentrating on getting his model over to the shirts he seen you pass earlier.

As Matt moves around to dress his model, you start reading through the chat again.

“‘Matt’s concentration and commitment to such a silly game is honestly so cute wtf’ Yes yes, I would have to agree, cvntynickk,” you laugh.

“‘Y/N, we need you here more often so he plays more than just fortnite!’ Ah, that’s kind of you chappellswift, but I don’t wanna be intruding too much,” you respond with a shy smile.

“Never intruding,” Matt mutters.

You smile at that, but it won’t stop the feeling.

“‘How to have a relationship like Y/N & Matt, no borax no glue plsss’ Just find someone who treats you right and respects you and the rest should really fall into place,” you say with a smile.

“Done!” Matt says.

You look over at the game and let out a gasp.

“Matt you did really good!” You look over at him to grin at him brightly.

“Thanks,” he says with a shy smile and slightly reddening cheeks.

The screen changes and voting commences. You and Matt go through the same process as last time. You watch Matt carefully choose each rating like this is America's Next Top Model and not a silly Roblox game.

Once it’s time for the winners to be announced, you feel Matt sit up just that bit straighter, and you struggle to reign in your smile at how serious he’s taking this.

The top three are revealed and,

“What the fuck!” Matt yelps out. “This is bullshit! None of what they’re wearing is y2k at all!”

He reaches over to see where he ranked and you watch as he stops and sees he got fifth place.

“Fuck this,” Matt huffs, leaning back in his chair. “I’m done with this game.”

“Alright then drama queen,” you laugh, exiting out.

“Thank you for having me, but I’m gonna go and get a treat now because I need my daily dose of sugar. Hopefully Chris didn’t eat all the donuts,” you mutter, placing a kiss on Matt’s head as you get up; Matt trying to get you to stay but not too hard knowing how you get without your sugar dose.

You wave bye to chat as well. “Maybe you guys will see me next time.”

“I’m so in love with her,” Matt says quietly to chat, but you hear it as you close his bedroom door; it makes a giddy smile appear on your face.

[rimunagenius]

Would you be down to do a Kate fic where reader is a new transfer and Kate keeps seeing her all over campus and is quickly crushing on her (like she’s down BAD) Then one day when she’s going to meet Caitlin for lunch/coffee/something lol she sees her walking with r laughing then saying goodbye. Kate immediately starts interrogating CC the second she’s within earshot because she wants to find out everything she can about her mystery girl. CC laughs and says she transferred to play soccer and they’re in x class together. Then she’s like as fun as this is I’m starving so can we go eat now. From there she literally sees her everywhere because her and CC start to hang out outside of class, once she finds out r also played basketball in high school and college (focusing on soccer when she transferred) she invites her to pickup games or practice when she knows they’ll be using the managers to scrimmage and this is where Kate finally meets her and is officially smitten. R thinks she’s absolutely adorable and hopes this is the girl Cait said she wanted to introduce her to.

Everywhere

ʚ paring: Kate Martin x reader

ʚ word count: 2.2k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , other than that, none that i can think of other than the use of y/n.

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: okay so anon, i love this idea!!…i loved it and im so sorry it took so long to write it and i may possibly consider writing a part two! I love the idea of Kate being so smitten for reader. she’s a sucker for a pretty lady! also i hope it’s okay that i kinda made the reader a ghost to kate..like kate needed to be actively LOOKING so it’d be better for when she actually saw her and i feel like this could’ve have been better so im sorry if it didn’t meet your expectations 😭

Everywhere. You were literally everywhere. She was definitely not complaining about it though. You were actually so beautiful. You were everywhere but near her. You took over her whole mind since this morning.

She saw you on what she assumed to be your first day. You looked like a lost puppy walking around looking for your class. "Hey, you doing okay?" Kate approached you, sliding one of the sides of her headphones behind her ear. God, you looked even prettier up close.

"Uh, yeah? I don't know where the science building is. I've been looking for about twenty minutes and no luck." You sighed, checking your phone, your friend Caitlin texting you while you pulled your schedule up.

"I can help. If you want?" Kate gave you a warm smile, looking down at your phone. She recognized the professor, having had him her sophomore year. It was a general education requirement for her major. "Oh, I've had him before. I can walk you and show you."

"That'd be great, thanks." The walk was quiet, kind of awkward. Kate was nervous to make small talk. She never thought this far ahead. Hell, she didn't even know she was walking up to you until you responded to her.

Kate thought about it the whole way to her next class. She thought about it the whole way back to her home. She thought about you. The way you smiled at her when she offered her help. She didn't know what was happening.

She's seen many pretty girls before and felt attracted to them but not like this. She's barely known you—talked to you for a total of three minutes...It wasn't possible. It wasn't going to be a thing. She'd probably never see you again. This campus was too big.

Kate had thought about you, and she wouldn’t lie and say that she didn’t try looking for you either. She’d take her time walking to classes throughout that day and to Carver Arena. She’d stop to get coffee and snacks she wasn’t going to finish. She just wanted to see you. You were the most prettiest girl she has ever seen. She tried to find you all the rest of the day. With no luck, and her taking her sweet time to get to practice, she didn’t see you.

When she left for a later class, right after practice, after practice had ended at six pm, she had finally seen you and Caitlin walking together. It was the most shocking yet, anxiety inducing thing she’s seen since she left you earlier that morning.

She was a ways behind you both, recognizing Caitlin first, still in her practice uniform. You were both heading the same way she was, so she just decided to stay behind instead of going to talk to Cait. She wasn’t going to go anywhere near you both, scared of being that close again and having to introduce herself. She’d be an absolute mess. It barely worked this morning, and she was not taking her chances.

It wasn’t until she saw you walking away, meeting up with this other girl, and saying goodbye to Caitlin, that she decided to catch Caitlin before she left. “Caitlin!” Her walk speeding up, looking in your direction making sure you didn’t hear her.

Caitlin looked behind her to see her frantic teammate running up to her. “Yes, Kate?” She smiled nervously, watching the blonde dart her eyes between you and her.

“Who is that?” Kate looked to you, blushing. Pointing subtly towards you to make sure Caitlin knew exactly who she was talking about. That’s when Caitlin smiled. “That’s my friend! She just transferred here. She’s playing soccer now.”

“What do you mean ‘she plays soccer now’? What did she play before?” Kate wanted to know everything about you. She already knew you were the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. But she wanted to know more.

“She played basketball too. Got a full ride to UC Berkeley with it.” Caitlin nodded her head, continuing on the path she was headed to. “We were on our way to our class, but her soccer teammate needed her for a minute so I said i’d meet her there.”

“Oh, okay. How do you know her? Has she always been that pretty? How many classes do you guys have together? Maybe I can “walk” you to it?” Kate started to ramble any question that came to mind about you. All of which were about anything and everything besides your name.

“Oh, my god. Kate. Slow down. Why so many questions?” Caitlin laughed, already having a small idea as to what was happening. “Just ask her tomorrow.”

Kate’s throat went dry. What did she mean? “I’m sorry, what?” Kate choked out. Caitlin gave Kate a blank stare.

“I invited her to our pickup game tomorrow. Just talk to her then.” Kate was already so excited but dreading tomorrow.

She really really wanted to see you, but she started to think about how you’d see her play and she’d have to possibly guard you. This was a lot. Kate definitely did not let this go. She was starting to get too nervous. She was getting self conscious. She wanted to impress you.

Kate got up the next morning to a text from Caitlin asking to get there earlier than planned for a shoot around before the pickup game. The reason why was very vague but she decided to go early. Caitlin had asked her multiple other times to meet up and practice shots. That’s where Kate had developed better confidence in her far-range shots. Her three game improving significantly.

But the more Kate thought about it, she didn’t even get your name yesterday. Not even from Caitlin.

Her nerves were through the roof as she walked out the house and set on her way to Carver.

Her face grew hot and red, suddenly her relaxed and otherwise friendly demeanor turned shy and antsy as she got closer and closer to you both, standing on the court while she set her stuff down. That’s why she wanted her early…forgetting to mention the why.

“Hey, Cait.” Kate walked up to Caitlin, her eyes darting between you and her. She was so nervous. You were just so pretty and so close she just couldn’t take it.

“Hey! This is my friend, y/n.” Caitlin looked to Kate, and then to you. You shook Kate’s hand. Immediately recognizing the pretty girl who had helped you find your class yesterday.

You smiled. Yesterday after she walked you all the way to your class, before you had walked in you thanked her and watched her go on her way. She looked nervous but so did you. You walked up to the door but stopped to look behind you. What made it more awkward is you both caught eachothers eye at the same time.

Cait💕

“You find your class okay?”

“yeah! some really nice girl helped me find my class.”

“Oh, awesome! The people here are way nicer than the people from California huh?”

Caitlin and you had grown up together. Two girls who loved the game of basketball. You got a full ride to UC Berkeley. Iowa skipping over you for an offer but getting Caitlin. You honestly wouldn’t have had it any other way.

You got to experience life outside of Iowa. It was a fun experience. You loved California but still keeping in touch with back home. You would’ve stayed if your injury your sophomore season didn’t pull you out of the sport completely.

Tearing your meniscus, ACL, PCL, and MCL. You tore them over a span of a couple years. Your ACL and PCL being the first to go in your junior season of highschool. The MCL your freshman year of college. You had been halfway into your sophomore season at Berkeley when you tore your meniscus.

You were told you were able to recover and go back, but your coach didn’t like that you were getting injured and submitted an appeal to have your full ride taken. That’s when the dean advised you to find a different career outside of basketball. So, you entered the transfer portal, losing your full ride, and ended back up in Iowa for senior year. You had played soccer growing up as well with your brother. You kept up with it outside of basketball only small scrimmages, nothing too serious so you weren’t injured for basketball. But Iowa had a great soccer team and you missed home, so you decided to come back and come back to soccer.

“They’re way nicer for sure…and wayyy cuter😉”

“Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyyy”

“you laughed at, ‘Ohhhhhh myyyyyyyyyy’ ”

You were excited to meet the friends Caitlin made here in Iowa City after you left. Wanted to meet the women she talked so highly of. So when she texted you last night asking if you wanted to shoot around before doing a pick up game, you immediately said yes. Something about wanted to introduce you to a friend, hence having to get there early.

“Oh, you walked me to my class yesterday!” You stuck your hand out and waited for Kate to shake it.

Kate had been staring at you. She didn’t mean it in a rude or freaky way. She just was in shock. There was no way you knew Caitlin. “Uh, yeah! I’m Kate. I don’t think we formally introduced ourselves yesterday.” Kate giggled.

Caitlin raised her eyebrows. There was no way Kate was the cute girl you mentioned to her yesterday. No way. And there’s no way you had Kate Martin giggling at a handshake. This elicited a random giggle and ‘no way’. You and Kate turned your heads and looked at her confused. It finally clicked to Caitlin.

“Oh! Nothing nothing. Just that—Oh! Look! My ball!” She walked away to the ball she left at half court, leaving you two to stand in awkward silence before opting to get started. You guys were going for about an hour before Caitling and Kate walked up to the small team Caitlin put together. You watched them two walk away, shaking your head before walking over to your team.

That’s when Kate turned to look back at you. Watching you immediately make friends with the girls in your team. Which happened to be her friends too. Kate turned back to the team, a huddle being held…Kate’s face grew even more rosy when she saw her best friend caught on to what was happening. Caitlin had been giving her the biggest smirk when they made eye contact. Was it really that obvious that she had a crush on you? Could she even call it that? She just met you formally seconds ago.

The shoot around is where you and Kate really got to know each other. Exchanging stories and experiences, her asking all kinds of questions of what it was like in California.

How you knew Caitlin, which she was shocked to find out that you grew up here. That you and Caitlin were neighbors. She learned more than what Caitlin had been willing to tell her. Something about “you’ll know soon enough,” or “i’ll let her decide.”

It didn’t help that she had to guard you during the whole game, even though her being absolutely smitten from the moment Caitlin told her your name wasn’t already awkward enough.

The small praises you gave her while playing went immediately to Kate’s head. A pretty girl like you complimenting her. She returned them back, feeling less scared of her antics when she saw how you reacted to them too. It was the most nervous and overall mindfucking pick up game she’s ever played in her life. And she grew up with playing with bigger and stronger boys. Hell, she’s made it to national championship games and this by far took the cake for the most absurd and anxious game.

But you, made her immediately nervous. And she knew you knew. The small smiles and giggles you gave her whenever you saw her reaction to your compliments and praises, your touches to her body when you would pivot around her while dribbling, your hands brushing her hips when trying to blow past her and cut to the basket.

Needless to say, you both knew the effect you had on eachother. Which is why it was the longest yet shortest game ever. Because when it ended, and you had work to do and practice to attend, so you started to say your goodbyes to everyone.

You said goodbye to the new girls you made friends with, getting their numbers and then pulling your oldest friend aside. “Please tell me that’s her.” Your face burning up from the exertion and the thought of the tall blonde you could feel was looking at you from behind Caitlin.

“Possibly.” Cait raised her brows, mischevious smile on her face.

“She’s possibly the cutest thing I have ever seen, Cait. Please tell me that’s her.” You glanced behind Caitlin again, catching those oh, so pretty blue eyes. You both looking away immediately, you both blushing.

“I’ll talk to you after your practice.” She hugged you and you started on your way to your practice. Looking back to catch one last longing look to Kate. It was definitely her.

She was already standing and talking to Caitlin, big smile on her face, hair now down. God, she looked good.

“Please invite her to more of these.” Kate pleaded with Caitlin. That immediately earned a loud chuckle from the brunette. This was so entertaining. Her best friends having the hots for eachother was the most interesting thing to happen to her.

“I will.” Caitlin patted her hand on her best friends chest, starting to walk away. “I fucking knew it.” She said while she was a good distance from Kate.

“What?” Kate asked, already wishing another pick up game would happen or that she’d run into you soon.

“Oh, nothing.” Caitlin walked away, knowing she had to do something to keep you guys interacting. This game of trying to get you both together was more fun than, dare she say, the final four tournament??

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!

i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33

thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!

Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)

This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.

Tangerine, Tangerine

Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 4494

_______________________________________

It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 

You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 

Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”

“Green Two check.”

“Green Three check.” 

 It was just a kiss. 

“Green Four check.” 

 It was just a-

“Green Five check.” 

Just a-

“Green Six check.” 

Just-

“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.” 

It wasn’t just a kiss. 

You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron. 

This mission was straightforward - on a holopad. 

Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons. 

The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne. 

Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure. 

Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.

You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide. 

The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them. 

Simple. 

In theory. 

Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy. 

But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going? 

No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice. 

You swallow. 

You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart. 

I hadn’t just been a kiss. 

You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline. 

He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that. 

Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead. 

It made a lot more sense. 

Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own. 

They had always been close. Always. Best friends. 

Sickness bubbled in your throat. 

You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it. 

“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander. 

“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?” 

Hank chortled. 

Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist. 

Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you. 

“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?” 

Yeah. Now you had. 

The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains. 

Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet. 

You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…

But you had thought it was…

It didn’t matter. 

You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch. 

That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss. 

Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence. 

It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons. 

A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands. 

You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next. 

Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?

“That one here, you see it?” 

“Yeah?” 

“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”

You’d laughed. 

“That’s me and you Moonbeam.” 

Moonbeam. That stupid nickname. 

You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you. 

“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.” 

That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’ 

You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on. 

It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal. 

Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay. 

Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures. 

“Fuck.” 

The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled. 

“Blue in place now!”

“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”

“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!” 

“How far away is the Delta?” 

“Calling in attack pattern!” 

You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game. 

That didn’t bode well. 

You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction. 

Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.

“Targeting not working!”

“It’s out!”

“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”

“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on. 

“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!” 

You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process. 

“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.

You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?” 

“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down. 

It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard. 

The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns. 

Good. 

But there’s so, so many of them. 

Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems. 

More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together. 

The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing. 

“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear. 

You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through. 

The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on. 

“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter. 

There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home. 

Frizz.

“No…” 

“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”

You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.

“Green Two check!” Cril.

“Green Three check!” Petal. 

Nothing. 

“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz. 

The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes. 

You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist. 

There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity. 

All you need is…

Another alarm. 

“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!” 

A chorus of yells answer you. 

A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely. 

And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard. 

The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot. 

“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist. 

Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected. 

You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons. 

You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull. 

It’s not enough.

You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough. 

It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it. 

Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.

“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.

They must have scrambled after first contact. 

The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell. 

The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire. 

You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational. 

Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on. 

Two chances left. 

One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits. 

Poe shouts for you over the intercom. 

You don’t answer.

One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will. 

Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call. 

You don’t answer.

You fire. Hit. 

Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it. 

The canon doesn’t go down. 

You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him. 

You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.

“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do. 

Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 

“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 

You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down. 

Shouts over the radio, you barely make out- 

“-cannon’s down-”

“-Jump!-”

A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.

The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-

.

The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream. 

Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain. 

You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob. 

There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit. 

The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it. 

You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide. 

Make it look like you had a weapon. 

Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning. 

Can’t let them take you alive. 

There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down. 

For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull  yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot. 

You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue. 

You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…

.

When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear. 

I'm dead.

You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds. 

But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.

And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.

“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use. 

Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back. 

“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good. 

“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?” 

“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper. 

“What?”

“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-” 

“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.” 

You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe. 

Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.” 

You snort. 

He smiles. 

“Who did we lose?” 

Hank sighs, “three…”

You nod, closing your eyes for a moment. 

“There-”

There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.

You swallow, sickness building in your throat.

He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red. 

He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages. 

“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes. 

“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.

Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.” 

Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away. 

“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”

“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”

He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?” 

“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.” 

The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?” 

You nod. 

“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart. 

“You pushed her away?” 

“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…” 

“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”

“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.” 

He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes. 

“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”

“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”

“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head. 

He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating. 

You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly. 

“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.

“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”

He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.” 

You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight. 

“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins. 

You scoff. 

“You are.” He kisses you again. 

You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home. 

“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.” 

You nod. “She’s a good person.”

He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.” 

You touch his cheek lightly. 

“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?” 

You shake your head in surprise and he nods.

“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.” 

You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper. 

Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance. 

Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted. 

“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[amourcheol]

filmbro-zoned (teaser)

❝Who knew all it takes is a hot girl with top-tier taste for a man to admit he's wrong?❞

g e n r e : college! au, fluff, crack, suggestive

w o r d c o u n t : 1k for teaser (approx 20k words for full fic)

s u m m a r y : self-proclaimed movie mastermind chwe vernon minds his business—whether that be avoiding the popular, problematic kids in his college to reducing customer interest in his parents' film store. his plan of isolation, however, is completely destroyed when you, a seemingly insane disney fan, slams his perfect movie taste and ask for his help to take down an evil ex.

w a r n i n g s : loosely inspired by watching the detectives, film major! vernon who owns an outdated film store, mc is the baddest (but also the craziest) bitch in this fic, vernon is a loser, film major! mingyu who will be violated many times in this fic sorry king, mentions of many filmbro films which will also be violated, self-indulgent mentions of some of my favourite films, kissing, mentions of sex but no actual sex because im fearing god today, barbenheimer reference <3

p l a y l i s t : if you're too shy (then let me know) by the 1975 || q&a by seventeen || wonderful women by the smiths || confidence by ocean alley

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @hiraethmae @lllucere @intoanothermind @kokoiinuts

a u t h o r ' s n o t e : who would have thought i'd be writing a college au huh...alice will never let me live this down...also guys once again so sorry for constantly posting this hopefully i have found a way for the loophole...let us see if this teaser gets shown in the tags...

“WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON WOLF OF WALL STREET, AMERICAN PSYCHO, PULP FICTION…FIGHT CLUB, SAVING PRIVATE RYAN, SCARFACE…”

You squinted at the list, finding the names neverending. “Jeez, this list keeps going, huh?” 

He could not help the scoff. “And you called me a Filmbro.” He set his forearms on the counter, locking his hands together. “What do you need these movies for?”

“They’re for my ex-boyfriend.” 

The term had him pausing. Of course—the ex-boyfriend. How has he heard of this man, but not know a thing about him? Shit, he did not even know your name.

“This ex of yours has an…interesting taste,” he said slowly. “What’s he like?”

“I can tell you he attends the same college as you. Well, us,” you clarified, jerking your head towards the college colours of your server’s hoodie. “Film major. Just like you, actually.” 

“Oh?” Small world. “What’s the name?”

“Kim Mingyu. Do you know him?” 

Vernon Chwe nearly shit his oversized jeans.

A hesitant nod of his head. “I have a few classes with him.”

“Oh?” Your stare was a little more intense now. “What do you think of him?”

Right. 

Another fated question—the people around him had to stop asking him such controversial questions, or else he was bound to piss someone off. You were already letting him off the hook too many times; one more judgemental comment, and he was having that Princess movie set smashed on his head.

Kim Mingyu. Fuckass Kim Mingyu. Film major—just like him. One of the most popular boys in the year—very unlike him. All the teachers love his essays, all the girls love his freakishly-perfect six-pack, which Vernon is extremely irritated (and devastatingly intimidated) by. 

What all these people failed to realise, though, was that Mingyu was the biggest piece of shit to grace the halls of his university—and the planet, if dramatics were in order. If you thought that Vernon was a filmbro, then Mingyu was Filmbrother. Filmcomrade. Filmnemesis. 

It was as if you could hear the thoughts churning in his head. “You can be honest, you know. He did dump me at the end of the day.” A smirk began to appear. “Say your worst.”

The reassurance did not help. “I mean,” he started, swiping your card, “He’s okay? I haven’t talked to him enough to have an opinion on him.” 

A half-truth—that should suffice. 

But because the fates like to shit on his head every now and then for kicks, they decided to leave you unsatisfied with his answer. “Or, you can keep lying!” 

Excellent intuition, really. “I’m not!” he exclaimed, slapping the card back on the counter. “I really don’t know much about him.”

The big man upstairs was testing him even further, when, with a determined gaze, you set your elbows atop the surface. You leaned closer, tilting your head to the side as you inspected him, and Vernon blinked back at the sheer lack of space you had created. His mouth twisted, eyes frantically darting at the features of your face, not quite taking in the entirety of your being. Your vision seemed to work perfectly, because it caught the slight flush at the tops of his cheeks, where it was just pale skin seconds before.

Your smirk deepened. “Judging by your blush, you’re either terrible at lying…or,” you offered, voice lowering a little as you drummed your fingers against the counter, “You’ve never had a hot girl this close to you.” 

Fuck everything and everyone, because that only made him blush more furiously. You could not help the chuckle that escaped, deciding to cease torturing him and take your card. “I’ll not say the answer, Mr. Filmbro, but I think you already know.”

Since he had no plans of turning into a human form of a ketchup bottle, he evaded the topic entirely, instead focusing on interrogating you. “You still haven’t told me how Mingyu is related to the movie list you made.”

That seemed to hold your interest. “Oh, of course!” Putting the list back into your bag, you began, “Well, the list holds my ex-boyfriend’s favourite films. I wanted to know your opinion on a few.”

He could not contain his sigh. Oh, he had an opinion on these films that you mentioned. Again, he would rather be buried with his thoughts on the specific genre than ever tell you. The curiosity, though, was eventually going to eat him alive.

So much for minding his business.

“I mean…” he began to think, trying to find the right words. “I don’t mind them? Godfather is a good film, but I’ve seen better from Brando. I like American Psycho, but again, people tend to miss the point of the movie.”

As you nodded, listening to his two-cents on the movies you mentioned, he paused, furrowing his brows. “Why do you care about my opinion?”

You smacked your lips together, folding the list back. “I don’t know much about you, Mr. Filmbro,” you began, “But you don’t run a filmstore without knowing a thing or two about the films you sell.”

“So?” He crossed his arms atop the counter. “Shouldn’t you have asked the guy who you made the list about?”

“Trust me,” you said, your smirk turning more into a rageful flash of teeth, “I know exactly what he thinks of these films.”

Don’t particularly know what to make of that comment. “Well, I don’t know what my opinion for these films is going to help you in any way.”

“It has helped.” You paused then, waiting to see if he would egg you on, asking how his seemingly tame opinions would play into the grand scheme of things. “All part of my master plan.”

Master plan? Vernon may have been interested before, but he was certain that, before, he could have hid it without letting you catch onto it. In a sudden flash, though, as if his mouth was beyond his control, he regrettably slipped out the words which had you smiling more than he would have liked.

“What master plan?”

He almost closed his eyes. Shit. Now I’m fucking invested.

The corners of your mouth, lifting upwards, had him almost nervous. “I was hoping you would say that.” 

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter Twenty-Six - The Hunt

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

1.7K words

Warnings: guns, kidnapping, major character death!! LIKE SERIOUSLY MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

guy's im so sorry for this one

Series Masterlist

Carlos watched the video again and again. He analysed anything he could from it, but there wasn't a lot to go on. It hurt to watch, seeing his pretty little wife in such a state. He watched it to the point he could see the bump forming. Their baby was growing. Through all of this, their baby was still growing.

He gave his phone to Lando, who had his best men taking a look at things. If anybody could find where the video had come from, it was them.

"Hello, Sainz. I believe I have something that belongs to you," the man in the video had said. Carlos couldn't see his face, just his wife on the floor.

He nearly snapped his phone in half at the sight of her. On the floor, a dishevelled mess. Hair greasy and matted, eyes bloodshot and tears staining her face.

"Now, what I want is simple. Leave two million pounds in a suitcase outside of the Mirabelle House hotel and it shall be collected at a time of my choosing. You have twenty-four hours to drop off the suitcase and retreat back to the Norris house. If the suitcase isn't there in the allotted time, I'll put a bullet in her pretty little head. I'll be watching."

The video zoomed in one Y/N, on her face as she sobbed. She looked so broken down and Carlos's heart was breaking.

This shouldn't have been the first time he saw his pregnant wife with a baby bump. It shouldn't have been from this video.

"Sir," Called one of Lando's men, striding towards them. He was a tall man that easily towered over Lando, but Lando was still much more powerful than him. It was clear by the way Lando stood tall and the man had his shoulders slumped. "We've traced the video back to a house maybe five minutes away from the Mirabelle House hotel."

"Great," said Lando, sitting back on the sofa.

Carlos just stared at him. They knew where Y/N was, yet Lando had sat back down, like he didn't care. "What the fuck are you doing?" He roared, that rage he had felt when Y/N first disappeared still there.

Sitting around for four days didn't help. Carlos wanted to tear the city apart, but Lando and Oscar held him back. Waiting was all they could do.

"Go and fill a suitcase with money," he said, switching on the television.

"Lando," Carlos growled. He was going to lose his shit.

"He's probably watching through the cameras! If we act like we're getting the money together to take to Mirabelle House, we can go onto the house and get Y/N!" Lando insisted.

It was at times like this that Lando showed his maturity and intelligence. It was his father's doing, how he had trained his son before he had died, Carlos realised.

He let out a breath through his nose (embarrassed that he hadn't thought of this plan himself) and went upstairs. As he went, Lando shouted up to him, telling him where he could find a suitcase and enough money to make it look like they were putting two million pounds into the suitcase.

Carlos was smarter than that, though. He put his body between the security camera and himself as he placed the two hundred pounds with of fivers into a suitcase. The suitcase didn't look very full, but Carlos pushed the bills to the side to make it look much fuller than it was.

When the suitcase was ready, Carlos carried it downstairs. Lando had received the address from his men and the two of them, along with Oscar, headed out to the car. "What about weapons?" Asked Carlos as he opened the trunk of the car.

Lando tapped the side of his nose as he pulled up the carpet inside of the trunk up, revealing the guns.

"Do we have a game plan?" Asked Carlos as he armed himself.

Oscar placed a gun into the waistband of his trousers. "Lando and I will deal with any men while you push forward and search for Y/N," he said and walked over to the drivers seat of the car.

Lando and Carlos couldn't protest that. Oscar was probably the calmest out of the three of them, the least likely to accidentally send them into the back of another car.

After Lando pulled up the GPS, they set off. The first upbeat, happy pop song came on the radio and Carlos was quick to switch it off. They certainly weren't going to be dancing in the moonlight tonight.

They drove past the Mirabelle House hotel and Carlos couldn't help but look around. Was the man that stole his wife away here? Was he waiting to snatch the money and go back to Y/N?

Some of you may be wondering why isn't Carlos just paying him? He certainly had the money. But this was a tale as old as time. Carlos knew exactly what would happen if he was to hand over the money. As soon as the money was in the man's hands, there would be a bullet in his wife's head.

They pulled up in front of the house. It looked incredibly unassuming, a simple town house in the city. Three bedrooms, maybe.

Oscar parked the car as though this was a normal day, as though they weren't about to go and rescue his best friend. The three of them climbed out of the car, keeping their guns in the waistband of their trousers.

They walked up to the house, Oscar leading them. They couldn't ring the bell or bust down the door, not without threatening Y/N's safety. So, Oscar got down onto his knees and worked on picking the lock.

It was one of his many talents, something he had learnt before Webber had taken him in. In fact, it was one of the reasons why Webber had taken him in.

As Oscar worked on the lock, Carlos and Lando noticed a camera, pointing directly at them. Fuck, that couldn't be good.

But, luckily for the three of them, the kidnapper was too busy watching the cameras in the Norris and the Sainz households. A grim smile had spread across his face as soon as he'd seen Carlos put the money into the suitcase and drag it out of the house. Soon enough they'd be back and he could go and get the money.

"Your fucking husband," he laughed as he looked at Y/N, the gun he was going to use to get rid of her in his lap.

Suddenly there was a commotion from up stairs. With no time to grab Y/N from her cell, he held his gun up, pointing it at the door.

Up stairs, Lando and Carlos shot the men waiting in the stairs. It wasn't a part of the plan, for Carlos to stay behind and deal with the men, so Oscar pushed forward.

It didn't matter that they weren't following the plan, thought Oscar as he pushed on. Aside from the two men on the stairs, there didn't seem to be anybody else in the house. But Oscar still kept his gun out as he made his way down to the basement.

It was just a hunch, her being down in the basement. The video had been dark and he couldn't really think of where else she would be.

The door at the bottom of the basement stairs were shut. Slowly and carefully, with one hand still holding his gun, Oscar pushed the door open.

A single shot cut through the frigid air of the basement.

Oscar didn't react right away. Red blossomed on the right side of his white shirt. And then his body dropped to the floor.

"That shot was meant for you," hissed the kidnapper as he turned back towards Y/N.

Y/N who's hands were covering her mouth. Y/N who couldn't believe what she had just seen. Y/N, who's best friends body was laying just a couple of feet away from her.

Suddenly, as the kidnapper reloaded his gun (he hadn't expected this, had loaded the gun with a single bullet for Y/N), somebody else came running down the stairs.

There was another shot and Y/N couldn't stop herself from screaming.

But her husband ran through the door as her kidnapper fell to the floor, dead.

His fingers wrapped around the bars of her cell as he reached towards her. "My darling wife," he whispered as Y/N grabbed a hold of him. One hand cradles her stomach as she stood up and rushed towards him. "How do I open this?" He asked, his voice calm as he pulled at the door of the cell. It didn't budge.

"There's a key. In his pocket," she said, her voice trembling.

Carlos searched the body, pulling a key out of a dead mans pocket. Neither of them had addressed the body of their friend on the floor.

As soon as he got the door open, Y/N ran into her husbands arms, tears streaming down her face. She sobbed into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight. "Oh, my love," he whispered as he kissed the side of her head. "Mi amor."

But then Y/N pulled away from him. She walked over to the body on the floor and fell to her knees. "Osc," she said, as if it would magically bring him back. Fat tears rolled down her cheek as she grabbed his hand. "Oscar."

Placing his hand on her shoulder, Carlos tried to pull her away. He was gentle, though. A harsh hand would never be laid on his wife again.

"No!" She suddenly screamed, throwing herself over the body. "I won't leave him! I can't leave him!" She screamed, eyes shut as she cried into Oscar's suit jacket.

With his touch still gentle, Carlos picked her up. "It's okay, mi amor," he said, holding her in his arms. "We'll come back for him, Lando and I."

Y/N simply cried as Carlos carried her away, carrying her out of the house.

Taglist (CLOSED): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa22 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @formulaal @graciewrote @biancathecool @evans-dejong @sparklyperfectionstranger @venusesworld @goldenharrysworld @cassie0sstuff @gracielukey @watermelonworries @celesteblack08 @shobaes @chonkybonky

[torasplanet]

Hiii sweetheart, can u pls write smut with kanto manji or bonten Sanzu with like him being super vulnerable and hard to be with but at the same time him trying to be a better boyfriend (with fem. reader)?

Also I have a crush on ur works✋😭

❝𝙇𝙀𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙇𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝙄𝙉.ᐟ❞

H. SANZU + F. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; haruchiyo breaks his six months of sobriety and doesn't truly understand how much it meant to you until he sees you in tears and proves to you how he's going to become a better boyfriend.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; smut, fluff, lowkey angsty, drug addiction, break of sobriety, cocaine, bonten!haru, kinda sappy, haru wants to become better for u :(, worship, unediteddd, mention of other bonten members, cheating(past), haru's literally begging on his knees for you to stay, praise, soft dom!haru, crying, past arguments, p in v, unprotected, actually sad as hell i'm sorry, petnames (baby, pretty, pretty baby, etc...), haru's depression, skin color not mentioned

marls notes 2 u(*´▽｀*) ; thank u smmmm !! i wasn't considering writing for haru cuz im his biggest hater buttt this was just sooo cute and i had the best idea for it !! ignore the header being kanto haru, i just thought that was cuterr

Haruchiyo fucked up, he knew he did. He had fucked up plenty of times before but this time, he really fucked up. Your lack of presence in you and his shared apartment proved it and all his texts being left on delivered only added insult to injury.

He would like to say that he didn’t mean it and it was an accident but he knew it wasn’t. He didn’t have to go in that club room and snort that coke but he did. He saw that white crystallized powder on that expensive ass glass coffee table and went closer, even taking the time to straighten out the line and pull out a hundred dollar bill from his pocket to snort it breaking his 6 months of sobriety. He didn’t think about what would happen if you walked in on him, he didn’t really care in the moment.

Knowing that he couldn’t just lie to your face saying it was an accident and he didn’t mean it. Not after he saw the tears glazing over your (e/c) irises that he’s gazed into too many times with the same wetness covering them with whatever he did being the reason. 

“Haru…?” The sound of your questioning voice made him freeze, he stopped moving and stopped snorting the cocaine. Haruchiyo couldn’t bring himself to turn around and look at you, not when he was on his knees in his expensive ass thousand dollar Versace pants snorting coke when he was supposed to be using the bathroom. That’s what he told you when he left you in the middle of the club with Kokonoi to take a break from dancing with you and it was the truth. 

Until he came across this open door. “Haru, what’re you doing?” You asked standing in the doorframe in that short dress that matched his dress suit with your hands on the side of the doorframe. You had an idea what he was doing but you didn’t want it to be a misunderstanding and get mad at him for nothing, you hoped it was a misunderstanding honestly. Haruchiyo had been sober for six months with your help and he was doing so well. You didn’t want him to throw that all away.

The pink-haired man dropped the rolled-up dollar bill onto the table that was now clean of any cocaine, only small specks were left. He rubbed his nose before turning his head toward you and his heart absolutely broke seeing the way you looked at him, with such a large amount of hope in your eyes that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t doing what you thought he was. Haruchiyo wished he could stop you from tilting your head to look at the table and see the empty Ziploc bag on the table and the rolled-up dollar.

The male sat there ashamed as you looked back at him with no words leaving your mouth. He turned his body around completely and looked at you and that’s when all the regret sunk in. He felt instant regret when he saw you staring down at him your eyes becoming watery with tears “Baby, please.” Haruchiyo started beginning to stand to his feet as he saw you beginning to sniffle “You said you were sober.” You muttered your voice breaking sadly as he inched closer.

“I was-” “were you just lying to me?” You cut him off as you continued to stare at him as tears ran down your cheeks when he reached his arms out to cup your face and wipe those tears away, you backed away like you were scared and he stood still.

He didn’t attempt to touch you again and just stared at you trying to come up with some answer that wouldn’t make you cry harder but as he thought about it, there was nothing in the world that would stop those tears “I’m sorry.” Haruchiyo pathetically said. 

It was the only thing he could say but it meant nothing to you. He has said those words so many times to you over and over telling you it’d never happen again and it did. Haruchiyo didn’t mean to continue the cycle of hurting you that he created himself but when he saw those pills or white powders, it was like his body moved on its own and when they entered his system…there was nothing he could do to contain himself, he lost all control of himself and what he said to you. 

Most of the time he didn’t even remember what he said and those moments were what hurt him the most. Having to hear you repeat his hurtful words back to him knowing that they were directed toward you was the worst and he hated himself for making you go through that but he always begged that you stay with him and that he would change. He was really trying to change don’t get me wrong but…it was just hard for him.

“Don’t fucking talk to me sanzu.” You said angrily shaking your head before turning around and walking away from the scene with the clack of your Burberry heels that Haruchiyo insisted that you wear because of how beautiful they complimented your skin and your dress. He loved being able to dress you up, too bad he wouldn’t be able to do that after what he had just done to you.

The long-haired man’s eyes widened as he realized your lack of presence and he leaped forward and out of the room seeing you stomping away with your hands balled into fists. “Baby please don’t go!” Haruchiyo yelled out as he ran after you grabbing onto your arm and turning you around to look you in the eye. By now his green eyes were bubbling with tears like yours were and for a second it looked like you were considering it but when Haruchiyo felt something running from his nose, your gaze changed back to anger-filled and upset.

You snatched your arm away from him and didn’t say a word as you turned back around and continued back out to the club probably to leave. He had the keys to your car but knowing you, you’d either resort to walking home or calling an Uber so that didn’t matter much.

Haruchiyo’s finger went up to his nose and he looked down seeing red thick liquid smeared against the side of his index finger. You almost stayed. You looked at him like you were considering it but that blood running from his nostril was a reminder of what he had done to himself without even thinking. You needed that reminder because if his nose hadn’t started bleeding then you probably would have stayed when you shouldn’t have.

“Fuck!” He cried out throwing his fist into the nearby wall bruising his knuckles and causing a hole in the red wall. Haruchiyo stomped back into the room that had ruined everything and began to destroy everything.

He ripped the paintings off the wall, ripped the soiled sheets off the bed, shattered the glass table, and put multiple holes into the wall from his kicking and punching all while screaming and cursing gaining the attention of the people walking past.

His hands went to his hair making a mess of his pink locks that you had brushed out in the car before you two came in. Haruchiyo breathed heavily as he looked at the now destroyed room which had taken a toll on him, his knuckles were bruised and bloody, parts of his suit were ripped from glass shards cutting into the expensive fabric and his nose was still running blood dripping it onto the expensive carpet floor and his blazer.

“Woah, what the fuck happened?” Ran’s voice asked from the hallway as he looked into the room. Haruchiyo’s head snapped back at the sound of a new voice and glared at the older man with hatred but it wasn’t directed toward him, the room, or you. It was hate directed at himself for allowing himself to do this without even thinking about what he should do or what you would want him to do.

Haruchiyo’s eyes continued to stare daggers at the multi-colored-haired man as tears continuously ran down his cheeks and wet his lengthy lashes.

“Get the fuck out.”

Since that night he hadn’t talked to you at all. No one has. Well, no one in Bonten has and he was convinced that all your friends he asked were just lying to him.

He hadn’t been to work in the week that you’d been gone, wanting to stay at home in case you came by and Mikey would be on his ass and he was but for once he didn’t give a shit about Mikey or what he said. Haruchiyo only cared about you and wanted to see you again. He had spent all of this time practicing what he would say to you so he wouldn’t piss you the fuck off even more than you were or make you end this relationship. He didn’t want it to end. It wasn’t a ‘not anytime soon’ thing, he never wanted it to end.

Haruchiyo fully intended on making you his wife and he told you this but you said that you would only agree to being his wife when he was clean and that gave him motivation. Just you gave him motivation but everything you said and did for him gave him more. It made him actually believe he could get clean but all that went down the drain with one simple look.

This wouldn’t be the first time he said he was getting clean and wasn’t but it’d be the first time he actually did get clean for a while and just spoiled it. Haruchiyo decided to get clean and stay clean after an argument you and he had when he was high. He said things he didn’t remember and when you told him, he regretted it but nothing he said made it better for you. Right then and there, he decided he didn’t want to put you through that shit ever again and that determination only increased when he remembered more of that argument and how he almost hit you.

His previous mistakes determined him too. He remembered when he cheated on you when he was high off molly and drunk and how devasted you were when you found out and how he let you down after that by getting high again when he told you that he wasn’t going to. Haruchiyo made a promise to himself that he’d get clean for you so you didn’t have to go through this with him again.

He couldn’t give less than a fuck about himself and if he destroyed his body doing this. He only cared about how he was destroying you doing this and that hurt him deeply. More than anything ever had.

Haruchiyo sat there with his head in his hands as some random K-drama played on the gigantic flat screen he had bought wondering what he should do to really prove to you that this was the last time. It was. It really was going to be the last time and he was going to do whatever it took to make sure of that but he didn’t know how to prove it to you.

You wouldn’t believe him straight off the bat after that night and every other night that was just too similar to that one and he knew that. Buying you chocolates and bears wouldn’t work. You’d love it but you wouldn’t believe him with that as he had used that tactic too many times. Haruchiyo feared that this would be the last time and not because he did it but because you left him.

You were the only person that saw the good in him and the only person that could bring out that good. The only person he actually gave a single fuck about and probably the only person to care about him and he couldn’t lose that. Not when you spent so many years with him preaching to him how you believed he could do it and stay clean and were willing to help him even after the cheating, the fighting, the yelling, the heartbreaking names he called you, the everything. 

Gosh, you were a fool. You were the prettiest girl in the world and yet you settled for him and stayed with him even after finding out what a horrible person he was and the shit he did. You stayed after he cheated. You stayed after everything. How dumb were you? You could probably have any guy you wanted, even any Bonten member and you remained in a relationship with him. You were a fucking dumbass for that but he cherished that because you were the only person to stay.

But he doubted you would want to stay after what he did.

Haruchiyo ran his fingers through his hair stressfully as he leaned back onto the couch letting out a sigh but the sound of the front door beginning to unlock made him shoot up to his feet. Was that you? It had to be, no one else had come to this door except for Ran and he didn’t have a key.

When the door slowly peeled open revealing you. Still in the dress from that night, your eyes were puffy and red, and the makeup he had watched you put on was gone and you just looked exhausted. Your exhausted eyes turned to shocked and saddened when they landed on his form.

There was silence for a minute as you stepped in and closed the door behind you, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he should let you talk first or not or just not say anything at all “...I didn’t know you’d be home. Thought you were at work.” You whispered raspily looking away from Haruchiyo and at the floor as you took your purse off.

“I didn’t want to go. I…I wanted to see you when you came back.” The male said softly as he watched you look him up and down taking in his lazy attire and messy hair that had tangles and stray hairs sticking in every other direction “Did you want to see me?” Haruchiyo continued scratching the palm of his hand nervously afraid of your reply. He was afraid you’d yell at him for even thinking you’d want to see him ever again. That you’d pack your shit and leave without a word and never come back.

You didn’t stare at him hatefully, or sadly, you stared at him tiredly looking like you were just going to sigh in response “Not really.” Those words upset him but he couldn’t take that out on you because he knows that was only because of what he did wrong after he promised you that he wouldn’t.

Staring at you made Haruchiyo regret everything he did even more, you weren’t actively crying but your red eyes were a reminder that you were and probably had been crying before you came here maybe even every day after that night “I really am sorry (y/n). I am.” Haruchiyo apologized not knowing what else to say. There was no point in small talk or asking you more questions when all it’d end up in was him apologizing over and over again.

When he walked closer to you, you didn’t step back this time and just stood still which was a good sign “Then why would you? You promised me.” You asked your voice breaking as if you were going to start crying again and Haruchiyo didn’t want that. That was the thing he didn’t want the most. 

He stood there watching as tears welled over your eyes once more completely silent almost as if he was ignoring you “Tell me! You owe me that haruchiyo!” You shouted startling him and smacking him out of his thoughts. He tried his hardest to come up with something that was the truth and something that wouldn’t make you upset but he reached a dead end. There was nothing he could say to you that’d make you happy and wasn’t a lie.

“I don’t know. I…just saw it and I couldn’t hold back. It wasn’t an accident. I did it on purpose and I’m sorry.” Haruchiyo didn’t even know he could apologize like that or at all until he met you. You gave him reasons to want to apologize when one was needed. You were the first light in the darkness of his life and he didn’t want you to disappear, he didn’t want your light to go out.

So he apologized after everything he did to you and that made him regret when he did something new to hurt you and have to give a whole new apology which was eventually going to lose its meaning from how he was using them and going back on them. Not very a good idea if he was trying to keep your light burning.

He saw your light flickering on and off through your teary eyes and it scared him “Please. Just don’t leave. I need you.” Haruchiyo begged growing closer to you grabbing both of your hands and holding them as he looked at you with pure sorrow in his eyes and need, need for you.

“You lied to me. Again.” You said trying to resist the urge to start sobbing uncontrollably as you continued to stare into the green pools that belonged to your liar of a boyfriend. You knew how hard it was for Haruchiyo to stay clean and you were there for him every step of the way, even when he relapsed, even when he cheated, even when he lied over and over.

You stayed because you loved him and wanted to see him get better. The only thing that was keeping you going with him was your love for him and the idea that when he got better eventually, it’d be different. Your relationship would get better as he did and you believed that. But of course, you had to know that with these beliefs and hopes, your relationship would falter and get worse every time that pill slid down his throat or that white powder shot up his nostril. You just didn’t know it’d happen so often.

“I know baby, I know but it’s the last time I swear. Please you gotta believe me.” Haruchiyo pleaded as he dropped to his knees in front of you now looking up at you through his messy strands of pink blocking his eyes as his hold on your hands grew tighter, he didn’t want to let you go and he was sure you wanted him to.

Globs of hot tears began pouring out of his eyes and down his face and red cheeks with his gaze still on you. These weren’t alligator tears, they were real. The tears only started to become real when you came along “I fucking need you. I know I fucked up and I’m sorry but please don’t leave. I’ll do better I swear. I’ll go to fucking rehab if you want me to, anything you want just…please. I’m trying.” Haruchiyo pleaded loudly his words speeding up as if he were saying it all in one breath and it appeared he was.

He was basically hyperventilating as tears dropped on the floor and your heels. You didn’t want to give him another chance, any person with a brain wouldn’t and would just dump him but looking at him crying, begging for you to take him back just broke your heart and you’d break his even more if you didn’t give him another chance. You wanted to believe that Haruchiyo would get better even if there was a chance he’d ruin you and himself in the process.

Your hand came to his cheeks wiping the tears off his face as he sniffled, snot running down his nose like the scarlet red liquid that was doing the same days ago “Haru, I won’t leave.” You said and his eyes brightened at the statement, his arms instantly wrapped around your legs and he hugged you closer as more sobs left his throat but your hand came to his forehead and pushed his head away so you could look him in the eye again “But this needs to be the last time. Or I will leave. You hear me?” You finished pushing his hair back so you could see his full face as he looked up at you with wide and watery eyes and his pink and chapped lips parted slightly.

He was looking up at you like you were an angel. Like you were his savior and you were. You knew this too. Everyone in Bonten had told you how soft the man had gotten for you, how he was a fucking druggie before you came along and convinced him to at least try to get clean, and how since you were in his life, he seemed happier and not crazy happy when he killed someone or did something horrible. Like pleasantly happy. Always in a good mood when he came in.

Ugh and don’t even get me started on how they’d fake vomit and gag whenever you came around to the Bonten hideout or went out clubbing with them. Haruchiyo kissing all over you, following you like you were a goddess, and to him, you really were. They had never seen Haruchiyo like that, especially considering he hated smothering people but he ended up being smothering to you and he always talked about you and how awesome you were. How you made him breakfast whenever you woke up before him, laying out his suit for him, brushing his hair for him, letting him dress you up, letting him pick the colors of your makeup. Just everything you did brightened his life and he made sure everyone knew that and everyone that knew told you every single thing that he said.

You remembered all the things Kokonoi and Rindou would tell you about Haruchiyo talking about you with scowls on their faces. ‘She’s my future wife’ ‘She’s fucking amazing’ ‘The best girl ever’ ‘Sexy ass girl’ ‘My baby’ All those things he said constantly when talking about you and that made you believe he was really going to change and that it was just hard. You were giving him one last try. One last try to better himself or you’d leave. If he can’t do it with your help, he’d probably never be able to do it.

“Yes, baby I do. I promise you this is the last time, I swear.” Haruchiyo said nodding rapidly as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He saw the hesitation in your eyes and his brows arched down, your silence was killing him just as much as your eyes were.

The pink-haired man stood to his feet face to face with you again and looked you in your eyes “I can prove it to you. I’ll check into rehab right now, I’ll quit bonten. I’ll call Mikey right now!” He stammered loudly, the mention of giving up Bonten made your eyes widen. 

Haruchiyo could be killed if he left Bonten because of how much information he knew and he was willing to risk that just to prove to you that he’d really get clean this time. Your hands came to the sides of his face and you pressed your lips against his as tears ran down your face “Don’t do that. Just stay here with me.” You muttered breaking the kiss and staring him into his green eyes which were full of more love than sadness now and you were sure that yours were the same now.

Haruchiyo nodded more slowly now his hands coming to your waist “I can do that.” He said impatiently before leaning forward and kissing you again for rougher and sloppier than the first one was. He was deprived of your love incredibly and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself but now that he had it back, he wasn’t letting it go.

His arms wrapped around your waist holding you tightly close to his body as he continued to kiss you “M’ gonna make you feel so good pretty. Like you deserve.” Haruchiyo muttered in between kisses quite literally devouring you and not letting you get a single breath in. His hands didn’t go to your ass like they usually did when you two had heavy make-outs but they rubbed up and down your back comfortingly.

It wasn’t lust he was feeling, it was love, and touching you was the way he loved you. It didn’t have to be sexually touching, just the little things. His hand on your back, his lips pressing against you not leaving a single part of your face untouched, his finger trailing down your spine, his legs tangled in yours when you two lay in bed together, holding you close to his body. All of that was how he showed his love for you and not his lust and by the way he was just rubbing your back and not groping you, you knew this was love.

Haruchiyo’s hands lowered down to the back of your thighs before lifting you. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso after so many times of him lifting you up either because you didn’t want to walk or he didn’t want you to walk. Haruchiyo could be sweet when he wanted to and that was all the time. Well, the times he was sober.

“I’m sorry for making you cry, my pretty baby,” Haruchiyo whispered into your skin as he placed gentle kisses on your cheek, jawline, and neck while carrying you down the narrow hallway that led to your shared bedroom “It’s fine, it’s okay.” You said through rushed breaths as you held the back of his head while he continued littering kisses all over the sensitive flesh of your neck.

Haruchiyo let out a soft whine “S’ not though. I shouldn’t have did that to you.” The pink-haired man said softly as he walked through the open door of your bedroom and walked over to the king-sized bed that you both shared. The bed he hadn’t slept in since he got home from the club because he didn’t want to sleep in it without you filling in the coldness of your side and cuddling up to him.

He gently placed you on the sheets, the shocking coldness of the bed surprising you and making you flinch a bit. The feeling of the silk sheets moving against your skin with every movement you made and dip in the bed made you let out a sigh of pleasure “I missed this. I missed you.” You muttered opening your eyes again to peer at the man that was hovering over you seemingly waiting for you to open your eyes.

“You got no idea how much I missed you. Was sleeping on the couch staying up waiting for you.” The green-eyed man whispered with a whine escaping his throat and you smiled up at him as you kicked off your heels onto the floor and your feet were dangling off the edge of the bed “Show me how much you missed me haru.” You said bringing your hand up to touch his face and you saw tears start bubbling in his eyes once more at the small gesture of affection.

You’d really forgiven him. He wouldn’t have cared if you didn’t want to have sex but the fact that you did showed you believed him and weren’t still mad. You hadn’t given up on him.

It shouldn’t have been that surprising, after all, lights only stop emitting light when you turn it off or use it too much causing it to burn out but Haruchiyo was almost convinced you were getting ready to burn out.

As he worked on getting his pants off, you slid your legs up opening them widely, and sliding your panties off tossing them somewhere in the room. Haruchiyo turned back to you observing your form and letting his eyes trail down to between your legs as your dress bunched up at your hips.

He was the worst person ever. He had a girl willing to go through all of this for him, she was so pretty too, and yet she forgave him when she really shouldn’t have. Haruchiyo swore on everything he cared about which was only her that he’d get better. He’d be a better person and a better boyfriend so he could make up for all the time you had to suffer dealing with him and truly deserve you.

“Why do you love me? I hurt you so much.” Haruchiyo asked blinking back the tears as he placed his hands on your knees while he sat back on his knees. You were taken aback by his question and just stared up at him as you continued to lie back on the silk sheets but you sat up leaning on your elbows to look him in his wet eyes.

“Because I see you.” Haruchiyo’s lips parted slightly in surprise from your answer but he remained silent waiting for you to continue your explanation “I see past these…” You muttered reaching up and running your fingers over the scars that decorated the sides of his mouth “And I see Haruchiyo, not Sanzu…I know you can do better and I wanna give you the chance to.” The tears haruchiyo blinked back reappeared and quickly found their way to the tips of his long lashes and his cheeks.

Haruchiyo sniffled as he peered down at you “You’re the only person to believe that. Not even I do.” He said below his breath as his head lowered down to your collarbone his pink locks spilling all over your shoulder and chest. You reached your hand up and placed it on the back of his head comfortingly “I’ll make you. I know you can do it.” You said pressing a kiss to the side of his head comfortingly which made a sob escape from his throat as he was fully crying now.

Haruchiyo had cared for many people in his life, he cared for Mikey, and a split moment in his childhood, he cared for his sister and his brother but he stopped when he realized they didn’t care about him. His care for Mikey had never stopped but he wasn’t dumb. He knew Mikey didn’t care about him like he did. The only person in the world to care about him just as much as he cared about them, maybe even more, was you.

“I’ll do it for you. I’d do anything for you.” Haruchiyo muttered through his wails as he aimed himself up at you not even having to look, a small gasp escaped your lips as he pushed inside of you and you gripped some of his hair as he bottomed out letting out a groan as he did so.

Haruchiyo wasn’t lying. He’d do anything for you. He’d kill a thousand people for you and if you didn’t want him to do that, he wouldn’t. 

“I love you.” He said as he lifted his head allowing you to see his red eyes and matching red and wet face. He squeezed his eyes shut as he threw his head back starting to thrust in and out of your warm and wet cunt but his head didn’t rest there for long because you grabbed his jaw and sloppily kissed him as you dropped back down to the sheets.

As much as you hated Haruchiyo for relapsing after promising he’d do better, you still missed him. All the days and nights you spent at your friend’s house needing time to compose yourself, you missed him and wondered what he was doing hoping your runaway didn’t make him spiral deeper into his relapse and so, you came home earlier than you were planning to and earlier than your friend said. 

Your legs were basically shaking when walking up to the door in fear of what could be lying behind it; It wasn’t because you were scared that when you got home he’d yell at you because of his high, you were scared that he’d hurt himself.

It was stupid…you were more worried about him than yourself after he lied to you and broke your trust in him even after all his mistakes. But you can’t hate yourself for worrying about him because no one else was going to. The other Bonten members would simply watch as Haruchiyo killed as many people as he wanted and snorted every drug in the fucking world, all they’d tell him is to clean up his needles when he’s done if he did spiral or they’d try and call you to pick him up so the only person who cared was you so you couldn’t stop caring. Even if you wanted to.

“I love you too haru.” You said through the heated kiss your arms wrapping around Haruchiyo’s neck as he continued to thrust in and out his speed growing faster and faster with every second. He parted his lips from yours leaving you to crave more of him “I’m glad you do.” He muttered as he leaned back on his knees grabbing the back of your knees as his thrusts got rougher and sloppier with the new angle.

Tears were still streaming out of his bright green eyes which were now squeezed shut from how you were squeezing his cock “Uhn…” You moaned lightly throwing your head back against the sheets and closing your eyes letting the darkness consume you and going off only from the pleasure in your lower stomach and the sounds of your boyfriend whining in enjoyment from above you.

Haruchiyo hated this. He hated how sensitive you made him and how vulnerable he allowed himself to be around you because you accepted him with warm arms and it made it all the harder to love you knowing how horrible he’s treated you. “Ugh! Needed you so bad…” The long-haired man muttered as his fingers dug into the flesh of the back of your knees while he arched his back while hitting that spongy spot over and over not missing a beat.

Your stomach began to feel full like a balloon was in your tummy just aching, pleading to pop but it wasn’t. Just not yet.

Your fingers pulled at the back of his hair using the length of it to your advantage, his neck snapped back making his Adam’s apple pop out moving as he continued to moan probably making his vocal cords sore from how loud he was probably allowing all of your neighbors to hear him. You can’t count on both of your hands how many times you two have gotten a knock on your door complaining about the noises.

Haruchiyo tapped the side of your thigh rapidly signaling you to wrap your legs around his waist which you did as soon as he began tapping your leg “You so pretty, wanna see more.” He muttered his hands going to the end of the dress you had completely forgotten that you were wearing, it was more like a shirt now because it was bunched up at your hips exposing your entire lower half.

He slowly slid it up revealing your bare abdomen before pulling it off of you completely leaving you bare in front of you, he didn’t say anything and just stared at you his eyes windering from your eyes, your lips, your tits, your tummy and last but not least your soaking cunt that was continuously sucking him in squeezing the life out of him “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” Your face got hot at his words and you got embarrassed bringing your hands up to your face and covering it so he didn’t so the flusteredness in your eyes.

It was stupid, he was quite literally hitting your cervix right now but you didn’t want him to see how embarrassed you were at his compliments “Don’t do that. I hate that.” Haruchiyo said softly with a bit of a mean tone, he grabbed your hands, and yanked them away from your face allowing you to see the frown he had on his lips, his forehead crinkled and his brows creased while he looked down at you.

“I hate when you do that, I love to look at you.” He said intertwining his fingers with yours and pining your hands beside your head, you didn’t respond as a very rough hit to your cervix sent you screaming and arching your back into the air “Haru!” You moaned shamelessly digging your nails into the back of Haruchiyo’s hands. Your moans were like music to his ears especially because he was the reason you were making those pretty noises.

The fair-skinned man leaned down with his hips slowing their once fast pace, he started to litter kisses all over your jaw and your neck biting down lightly making small teeth marks in your skin.

His swollen lips continued their work marking up your neck and coloring it purple “I love you, baby, I love you so fucking much!” You moaned out quickly as you breathed heavily feeling that balloon grow more and more with the teasing thrusts he had, going slow and slower and then breaking his rhythm with a rough hit to your cervix slamming his hips into yours. It kept growing, bigger and bigger as if you were bloated until it popped.

You yelped as you let go cumming all over his dick digging your head back into the sheets, you were sure the sheets were dampening with your juices “I’m almost there baby, I promise. I’m almost there.” Haruchiyo muttered desperately as his thrusts continued going faster as if you cumming brought him closer to his edge.

“Uhn! Ugh!” Haruchiyo moaned out into the skin of your next as if he was the #1 watched pornstar in the world, his hips continuously snapping into yours as you continued to breathe heavily still trying to come down from your orgasm but that was pretty hard when you were still receiving pleasure but you were going to let him ride out his orgasm.

You moaned with closed eyes at the feeling of thick and warm ropes spurting into your womb that you were oh so used to, you felt so full with him inside as he came but his face remained in your neck. You felt his heavy breaths on your neck as his back raised and fell with the pattern of his breathing “I promise you I’ll get better.” He said lowly but because of his face being buried in your neck, you heard it clear as day.

“Haru-” “No.” He lifted his face from your skin and rose once more looking down at you with a softened expression “Listen to me. I promise you that I will get better and treat you like you deserve.” Haruchiyo continued his brows furrowing in determination, he wasn’t crying this time when he said it, he didn’t look sad, he looked determined. He was going to do it and he was going to make sure you absolutely knew that.

He gave a quick peck to your lips before looking you in the eye again “And then I’ll marry you.” Haruchiyo said sweetly making a smile appear on your lips. He’d said things like this all the time but you knew he meant it this time. 

You could see it in his eyes and in the way he talked to you that he meant what he said and he was going to get better. That was a promise you were looking forward to being fulfilled.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

[bbyobbyo]

[12:44]

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, body insecurity, dk must be protected

wc: 665

note: idk this is what i get for watching dk make one too many tummy jokes on gose (seungkwan ur on thin ice) im sorry everyone good night

You come home to see your boyfriend in front of the mirror.

“Hey babe,” you shout from the door. “How long have you been home? Did you eat yet?”

“I just got back from the gym with Jihoon and Mingyu and they were giving me all these tips but to be honest, I could barely keep up.”

“I'm pretty sure those two are aliens and do nothing but work out and dance” you laugh from the other room as you put down your stuff. “Maybe you should try working out with Vernon next time.”

What you thought was a lighthearted joke turns into something much more serious when you find your words met with a low hum instead of the beautiful chuckle you expected.

You knew this was a point of insecurity for him, you figured as much when he insists on keeping a shirt on at the pool or on the beach. Or when he shys away from you when changing, despite you having seen him naked many many times already.

But what you didn't realize how deep it cut on the days he couldn't make a joke about it and turn himself into the fool as he often does to lift everyone's mood.

You immediately drop everything you're doing and join your boyfriend in front of the mirror, hands wrapping around his middle as you nuzzle into his side.

“Tell me what's wrong, honey.”

There's a shallow sigh before he's able to speak, and you swallow in anticipation as you stare at him through the reflection of both of you.

He briefly flashes you one of his bright smiles in the mirror, the ones he knows you love so much, but this one doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“I know I don't have rock hard abs like Jihoon or Mingyu, but I'm working on it.”

You can hear your heart breaking in your chest as your boyfriend spills out his confession.

He's so strong, you think. Stronger than anyone you know. The type of man who wears his weaknesses proudly and has no problem taking the fall for others, yet stays optimistic in every breath, uplifting those who need it regardless if his own tank is filled.

“What are you even talking about, baby? I love your tummy.”

“I- I don't know… I just thought— because,”

His gaze lowers to his fingers intertwined and fidgeting as he struggles to find the words. He lightly gnaws on his bottom lip as he shakily continues, “You really liked when I was building my arm muscles and you were complimenting me on getting stronger so I just assumed that you wanted me to—”

He's hushed by your gentle palm cupping his jaw, lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“Oh darling,” your eyes swimming with emotion, “no, I never meant it like that,” you breathe out in an almost whisper.

“Yes, I love that you were getting stronger but that doesn't mean I don't think you're absolutely perfect the way you are.”

You see his pupils widen as he stares back at you, expression unreadable as he seemingly tries to process whether or not to believe your words.

“I can't expect you to stay the same, that would be selfish of me. People change all the time, and hopefully it's for the better. But no matter what you look like I will always, always, love you for you Seokmin. Don't ever assume for a second that my love for you depends on whether or not you look like Mingyu, alright?”

You catch a tear that slips down his cheek with the pad of your thumb. Although his sparkling brown eyes threaten to open the floodgates, his widening smile that replaces his earlier tight-lipped expression assures you that his mind is much clearer than before.

“And for what it's worth, I love kissing your tummy and I will likely be devastated even if it's replaced by a six pack.”

“Alright, I'll tell Jihoon no more ab exercises then.”

[anjelagarrick]

solace

simon riley x reader

summary: your boyfriend’s having an off day, you decide to comfort him.

tags: established relationship, depression, reverse comfort, fluff, a bit of angst, soft! simon

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ADJUSTING THE SKIRT of your uniform, you smooth the creases, making sure your outfit was spotless before exiting the bathroom. Working as a barista was nice, you got to meet nice people, make cute latte art, it’s how you met your late boyfriend- he was dragged in by the arm by one of your regulars, Johnny. Simon was a big, burly man- hard eyes, quiet yet gruff voice. You found his mask adorable, unlike your co-workers that always had you serve him. Eventually, you managed to crack his wall and start little conversations; and eventually he came alone, no Johnny. He’d sit, observe. He was a good people watcher, you’d have to give him that. Something blooms, and eventually, you hesitantly leave your number upon a napkin, sliding it under his drink. You watched anxiously as he sat down, glancing at the napkin. He reads it for an awfully long time before pocketing it, he doesn’t look at you. He just drinks his drink, then leaves.

You feel extremely lucky that you managed to become his lover. Simon, despite looking tough and rough on the outside, was such a sweet man. He held you gently, helped you with cooking, he made you laugh. What got you to fall in love was his eyes, honey brown eyes that stared at you with adoration and joy, how he’d go from a stony look in public to a softened gaze when his eyes found you when you were out with friends. You understood that Simon would have to be away a lot, with his work and everything, you remember the first week he was away. You fretted, texting him every hour to make sure he was alive and kicking. With time; you developed more faith in your boyfriend’s abilities (not that you doubted them), and you held hope that he would come back. Simon had come home from deployment roughly about a week ago. He kept his experience quiet, not giving you many details- which wasn’t weird for him, yet something in him seemed more… sad.

“Baby, i’m going to work.” You lean upon the doorframe. Simon, to your surprise, was still in bed. With his job as a soldier, you were used to Simon getting up at six a.m, sharp, not a minute behind nor over. He’d have his coffee, go to the gym, come back and shower then allow himself to relax. Yet right now, as of seven forty-five a.m, he was in bed- in the same position you left him in. You knew he was awake, you had spoken to him briefly, told him good morning and kissed him sweetly. Simon doesn’t respond, his back to you. Slowly, you move away, walking down the hall. Instead of collecting your flats, you pick up your phone from next to your bag. It rings twice, then your boss picks up. “Hey, sir… so sorry but im gonna have to take the day off. Something came up.” You tell him, hearing your boss sigh. “Really? Rush hour is about to start.” He complains. “I know, but this is really important..! I’ll work a double tomorrow and Thursday- I promise.” You insist, glancing back to the bedroom. “And Friday. See you tomorrow.” Your boss hangs up without a goodbye. Heading to the kitchen, you make your boyfriend a coffee- just the way he likes it, and head back to the bedroom.

Slowly so it wouldn’t spill, you place the steaming mug beside him. “Thought you were going to work?” He asks, voice raspy. “I called in sick.” You respond, changing from your uniform into some more casual wear. “Why?” Simon’s brows furrow as he watches you, not moving. “To take care of you. Somethings up, I can tell.” You reply, shrugging as you get back into bed beside him. Simon sighs, rolling onto his back. “You don’t have to. Just… having an off day.” He tells you, you hum, shuffling to rest against his chest. “Why? What’s the matter, baby?” You ask softly, hand moving up to gently trace over a scar upon his cheek. Simon raises his hand, enveloping your own and kissing your palm. “Dunno, just… not feeling good.” He responds. “Do you need medicine?” You blink up at him, watching him shake his head. “No, not physically…”

“Oh…” You mumble, letting the silence sit for a while. “Si, do you have- y’know… depression?” You ask sheepishly, worry growing. “Yeah, got diagnosed a while back. Before I met you.” You sit up at his response. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?” You frown, cupping his cheeks gently. “Didn’t wanna burden you. This is my fight.” He sighs, letting his eyes close. “Simon, you’re not a burden. You should of told me, I want to help you.” You lean down, kissing his jaw gently. “You’re such a good guy, Si. You deserve the world, and I want to support you as much as I possibly can.” You tell him, thumb still stroking his scar. “You… you don’t have to, babe. I’m fine.” Simon lies, voice thick; as if he were going to cry. “Simon…” you sigh, resting your head against his as you try to soothe him. “Let me help you.” You beg quietly. Simon stays silent for a few moments. “…okay.” He mutters, hand finding your back. You smile, kissing his temple before sitting up. “Okay. I have some ideas, just to get you out of bed and have you feeling active.” You move your hands to rest on his chest.

“I’m listening.” He responds. “Good! The first idea is, we could go out to a café; there’s a new one out of town that i’ve heard good things about. It’s not too far, to be fair.” You explain, watching his eyes; they’re kind, loving. “Up to you, love.” Simon shrugs half-heartedly. “Well it’s your day, baby. We can do something else if you want?” You remind him, he hums. “Fine, we can check out this café.” He mutters, letting you pull him up. “Okay. Drink your coffee before it gets cold baby, we’ll go soon.” You respond, kissing his cheek gently. “Thanks love… you don’t have to do this.” He smiles, it’s small. “I want to do this. I hate seeing you sad.” You frown a little, kissing his lips before pulling away so he could drink his coffee. He hums softly, sipping his coffee. “I know, but still… thank you.” He responds.

“Why’re you feeling so down, anyway? Anything happen? Maybe at work?” You respond, hand gently massaging his arm, specifically the one wrapped around you. “Yeah… uh. My job isn’t easy, and… this guy I was working with for the first time, he got really messed up. Almost died- and I… I could of helped- could of prevented it. I… I ruined his life.” You hear his voice waver a little at the end, yet he immediately shuts his mouth, closing his eyes. “Oh, Simon. It’s not your fault.” You cup his cheeks, fluttering gentle kisses over his face. “It is. I could of been faster.” He insists, sighing shakily. “Simon, look at me. There is nothing you could of done differently. Your job is dangerous, he knew that when he signed up to join.” You tell him, voice much more firm. Simon sighs. “You did all you could, I’m sure.” You add on, kissing his lips gently. “You weren’t there.” He seethes, eyes darkening a little. You try not to let his tone hurt you. “But I know you. You’re such a sweetheart, you truly do care about the people around you, even though you won’t say it. I know you helped him, he’s still alive, isn’t he?” You ask, hands moving to his sides, gently massaging him. Simon let’s out another sigh, closing his eyes once more. “Look at me.” You mumble, patting his cheek gently. “It’s not your fault.” You insist.

Simon takes a moment, leaning his head against yours before taking a deep breath. “Yeah… okay, you’re right.” He mutters, squeezing his mug tightly as his other arm hugs you tight. “Of course i’m right, doofus.” You half joke, kissing the corner of his mouth; feeling it curl upwards as you do so. “Finish your coffee baby, and try not to worry. You’re home now.” You point out, he nods. “Yeah. Just gotta relax a little…” he responds, kissing you gently. “Thank you, baby.” He mumbles, you smile. “Of course! I’m not gonna abandon you, Si.” You coo, cuddling against his side as he drinks his coffee. “Want me to pick out an outfit for you baby?” You ask softly, head leaning against his shoulder. “If you want, love.” He shrugs a little. You smile brightly. “Great!” Moving away, you get up, moving to the closet. Simon watches you, a glint of amusement in his eyes as you pick your favourite things on him out and put them on the bed. “I heard this new place serves that cake you like. We’ll have to get some.” You say over your shoulder. Simon nods, finishing his coffee. “Sure thing, baby.”

[sleepyhutcherson]

hello! may I please request something fluffy where the reader and Mike Schmidt have a talk about marriage and their future together? thanks so much for sharing your writings!

restless nights.

MIKE SCHMIDT X GN!READER

summary: mike can’t sleep even after a long late shift, which gives him a lot of time to think and realise how much he truly loves you and how he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

word count: 1.0k

tags: established relationship, fluff, talk of marriage, talk of having kids someday, mike struggling with sleep, no use of y/n, this takes place 6 years after the fnaf movie events.

author’s note: honestly, not a fan of marriage but i would immediately marry mike if he asked me to. would not even have to think it twice. thank you for your request anon! i really enjoyed writing this, hope you love it 🫶🫶 sorry for the rough writing, i had trouble writing this one im not gonna lie 😭 i think i restarted this one six times 😮‍💨 but thank you sofia ( @olliebjorkstrand ) for helping me come up with an idea TE AMOOO <3

Despite Mike’s recent late shifts, he can’t seem to fall asleep. He tried shifting around in bed, fluffing his pillow, and changing positions several times but nothing seemed to work. He’s given up, deciding to merely lay on his back and face the ceiling he once relied on many years ago when a poster was still taped on it. The memory forces him to shut his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. His hand subconsciously makes its way to where you’re sleeping beside him, tangling his fingers through your soft hair bringing him the solace he craved this entire time. He envied how peacefully asleep you were, not having to shift around or beg to a God to help you rest at least a few hours like he had.

His fingers lace through your hair, gentle enough not to wake you, a small smile curling up on his chapped lips when he hears your soft snores. He couldn’t envy you for much longer, fully enamoured by your serene state. He turned his head to the side to look at you, though your back was turned to him he wouldn’t miss the chance to admire your bare back. His hand moved down from your head, his fingers dragging down to your back where he gently drew patterns simply to feel your delicate skin under his digits.

Honestly, this is better than sleep. He would take this over sleep anytime.

“You can’t sleep, can you?”

Mike retreats his hand, surprised by your sudden question. He thought you were sleeping. Were you awake this entire time? Maybe his touch had woken you.

“You’re awake?” He asks. You giggle at how groggy yet startled he sounds, turning around to face him now. He looked exhausted, to say the least. His eyes were slightly droopy with fatigue, eyebags prominent from countless restless nights.

“No.” You reply, both of you face-to-face now, smiling a little.

Mike’s hand cups your cheek, his calloused palm rough against your smooth, soft skin. He lightly strokes your cheek with his thumb, his eyes hazy as he stares at you with such fondness. You looked so perfect, you always did to him. He absolutely adored everything about you; the softness of your hair, your delicate skin and the way it flushed whenever he touched you, like now. He chuckles at the pink that tints your cheeks, such a pretty shade on such precious skin.

“What?” You ask with a nervous giggle. Something about having Mike look at you like this always made you feel a little nervous, even after all this time.

Mike shakes his head a little, continuing to gaze at you with glistening eyes. “Nothing,” he says at first, wanting to continue to admire you like this. God, he loved you. It was such a heavy feeling, but he didn’t mind how heavy it was, he would carry it if it meant he had the privilege of loving you.

A thought occurs to him, one that isn’t at all unfamiliar. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, that was always clear to him: he also wondered how marrying you would be like. He thought about it before, a few years into your relationship—about marrying you—and even wondered if you would want to marry him. You both barely mentioned marriage though. It was never a conversation you two had seriously but right now he thinks maybe it should be something you two should talk about.

How should he bring it up though, right?

He feels quite nervous and even a little shy about talking about this. What if you weren’t on the same page? God, that would be embarrassing. Maybe he shouldn’t even ask at all—save him from the embarrassment.

Fuck but he really wanted to know.

“I want to marry you.”

It comes out before he can even stop himself from saying it. He watches your expression, the way your eyes go wide and honestly he’s not sure if your reaction is a good one or a bad one.

“Wha—what?” You ask, caught off guard by his words and the sincerity behind them. You had never given it much thought before—marrying Mike, that is. Not because you didn’t want to but because neither of you ever brought it up, not seriously at least.

Not until now. Because Mike’s expression and words were genuine, no joke behind them.

“Yeah, what do you think?” He asks with a hint of anxiety to his voice. He was nervous, you could tell by the way he kept blinking his eyes.

It isn’t something you have to really think about. You and Mike have been together for six years, he was the only person who you could really picture yourself marrying.

A small smile creeps on your lips and Mike feels a hint of relief at the sight. You reach out to move a few curls away from Mike’s face giving you an excuse to touch him. He relaxes under your ethereal touch, practically melting under you.

“I would love to marry you, Mike.” You whisper to him. You love the way his eyes light up, the corners of his eyes crinkling up when he smiles.

It doesn’t take long before Mike pushes himself up so he can hover over you, his hands on either side of your head keeping him up before he leans down to kiss you. He pours his heart into the soft kiss, it’s not anything rough but instead something almost pure and tender. You kiss him back, inching slightly up to get more of him which causes him to chuckle softly. He pulls away from your lips then, only to pepper the rest of your face with innocent kisses.

He pauses briefly only to look at you—to really look at you. He loved you so much it almost kills him. He adored the way you looked at him with your pretty eyes, the smile on your lips, your fingers in his hair the way he loved it, how your eyelashes batted slightly. You were perfect for him.

He felt lucky being yours.

masterlist (for more of my works)

taglist: @cancelledkaley @stanheights-boyfriend @ploty-twist @jhutch-bf @laurrrelise @joshfutturman @gryffindorsblog @sofiehutch @obsessivemuso-withnofriends @helen-on-earth @fallingboba @cassiecasluciluce @maticka @jhutchissupercool ♡︎

[piosplayhouse]

pio im sorry but the six balls name joke bothers me. the fact that its that demons are considered to have stupid names if they're lower class or han style names (sha hualing) or titles if they are upper class/ want to appear that way, while being coded as not han chinese feels racist. i just thought you would want to know about this sort of thing.

I can see how you feel that way! It's an understandable thing to be uncomfortable with at first blush. Though honestly I don't really agree-- everyone has stupid names in sv, it's just that six balls is directly translated in English translations while the others remain in pinyin. So you don't immediately clock that shang qinghua's name is a pun that just means Went to Tsinghua University when you say it outloud or that binghe's name is (dropped in an) Icy River or that sha hualing literally translated is just gauze and bells (basically describing her outfit). It's pretty consistent throughout the whole book that every character is named lazily and over literally, less as an indication of their character traits and more as a commentary on how many artists (sqh) tend to suck at naming their OCs imo.

Take the romanized names: Luo Binghe, Shang Qinghua, Sha Hualing, Liu Geqiu

vs some overly literal translated names: dropped in an icy river, went to harvard, ribbons & bells, six balls

The reason why six balls is the only character that gets this treatment is I assume because the singular scene he's in is entirely dependent on the reader understanding what his name means for the joke to work, but pretty much every character could be swapped in to make a fun literal translated name if the situation needed it

[ifeellikeanopenwound]

out late

rafe!cameron x gn!reader

summary: rafe comes home late.

wc: about 880

a/n: not proofread, sorry for mistakes! 😭

✮

your leg bounces rapidly against a the carpeted floor anxiously as you watch the time on your phone

12:49 am.

six hours since rafe had left. he didn’t say where he was going but he said it’d be quick. you had an uneasy feeling since the beginning, rafe’s demeanor at the time seemed off.

now you’re waiting up on him and already you’ve messaged him too many times to count. each time without a response. so many thoughts are racing through your mind. thousands of possibilities of what could have happened come to mind. did he get into an accident? is he cheating? is he in trouble?

the pit in your stomach is only slightly eased when you hear the rusting of the door knob. immediately, your head snaps to the door to see rafe stumbling through.

you don’t know if you’re more relieved or angry that rafe is back after he left you without knowing where he was for hours.

he says nothing when he enters your shared house, darting towards the bedroom. you storm after him, not wanting to let this slide.

“rafe.” “where were you.”

it sounds more like a statement than a question. your voice is firm and direct and rafe can tell there’s no avoiding this.

“out.” he mumbles

“no, that’s not good enough rafe.” “where the hell were you for hours that you couldn’t tell me about?”

“i’m a grown man. i can do whatever the fuck i want, and i sure as hell don’t need to report back to you.” rafes says in a bored tone as he flops himself onto your bed.

you try so hard to stop from fuming but you couldn’t believe the audacity rafe has!

“why won’t you tell me? were you with someone?”

“jesus- fuck, no, i just- i can’t tell you.” rafe says sighing while dodging your gaze.

“yeah cause that’s not suspicious as all rafe” you scoff out.

“can you stop being insecure for five fucking seconds y/n! do you not trust me?”

insecure? is he serious? no, he’s not starting this toxic shit right now. not when you’ve done nothing wrong.

you move closer to rafe, raising your voice slightly as you speak, “are you shitting me rafe! do not put this on me, you’re the one who left with no explanation to where you were going, and left me up all night waiting!”

“why are you making it such a big deal? am i not allowed to go out?”

god he is infuriating.

“that’s not the point rafe! i’m your girlfriend, you should tell me these things.”

“actually, i don’t have to tell you shit.” he bites out

“tell me where you were or i’ll leave rafe.”

“i guess you should leave then.”

you scoff, and nod your head slowly. he wants you to leave? you’ll leave then. turning on one heel, you make your way to the closet in your bedroom and grab one of your many travel bags. you walk open to the dresser and yank the drawers open. you start mindlessly shoving clothes into the bag.

rafes eyes widen slightly, like he didn’t expect you to actually do anything. he gets up from the bed and rushes to you.

“baby, please i’m sorry. don’t leave me y/n.” rafe is pleading, his hands trying to grab at your hands.

your hands pause what they were currently shoving into your bag as you look up at rafe. “where were you!”

he hesitates for a second, looking into your eyes then looking down. “barry’s..” it’s so quiet you almost don’t hear it. and know that you think of it, rafes pupils did seem large.

before you have a chance to ask any questions or say anything, rafe continues.

“i- i went there because my dads been on my ass about some shit. i was just gonna smoke some weed but i don’t know, there w- was coke- and i just wasn’t thinking. i know me being a month clean meant so much to you so i stayed for so long hoping you’d be asleep and i could just pretend it didn’t happen.” rafe finished explaining, his eyes slightly wet and locked on yours.

“im sorry i didn’t tell you baby.”

suddenly you felt most of your anger for rafe disappear. the sincerity in his voice was so pure and you feel slightly guilty for getting so angry at him. you look him in the eyes before speaking,

“rafe you know i would’ve helped you, you can always tell me these things, why would you think you can’t?”

“i didn’t want you to be disappointed in me y/n”

you immediately push your lips to rafe and wrap your arms so tightly around his neck.

“im not your dad rafe, i would never be disappointed in you for relapsing. please never think that. i just want to know that you’re okay and that you trust me.” “i don’t feel that when you hide things and sneak around from me”

“i know baby, im so sorry, i wont do it again.” rafe mumbles into your neck, holding you so tight you feel like it might be getting harder to breath.

you both pull back from each other, though hesitant to.

“i love you y/n”

“i love you too rafe.”

[khaylin27]

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

pairing: lewis hamilton x popstar! reader

series: the tortured poets department

synopsis: popstar y/n l/n performs for the first time after her and lewis hamilton split due to 'differences'

warnings: not proofread 🙃 but none

author's note: IM SO SORRY I HAVEN'T POSTED IN A WHILE 😭 I've been dealing with my physical and mental health the past couple of months that I haven't been motivated to write. I've also been busy with college because I'm almost done. Hope y'all enjoy this!

I can read your mind

"She's having the time of her life"

There in her glittering prime

The lights refract sequined stars off her silhouette every night

I can show you lies (one, two, three, four)

yn_nation The lights refract sequined stars off her silhouette every night #WarsawYNTheErasTour 🩷✨See you in less than a fortnight! 🤍 #LondonYNTheErasTour

user1 THE QUEEN IS BACK IN LONDON OMG

user2 you know who also is from London 👀

user3 you think lewis would still go to her show even though they broke up? user4 we can only hope 😭🙏

'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle it

They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did

Lights, camera, and smile, even when you wanna die

He said he'd love me all his life

It was the first of many nights performing in London. London meant so much to you. You and Lewis fell in love and made a whole life here. You really thought he was the one after six years of being together. It wasn't until Lewis decided to break up explaining that there were 'differences' in your relationship.

"I can't do this guys." You were having a breakdown in your changing room before the show. Oscar's wife and Alexandra were in the room trying to calm you down before the show.

Alexandra soothes you while you cry and Oscar's wife had enough of it. It was probably due to the pregnancy hormones. "I love you Y/N but I know you're a real tough kid, you can handle it."

You wipe your tears and look up at her, "When I went through everything with Carlos you told me 'babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it' and that's what I did. I never got to thank you back then but I do now." Oscar's wife smiles thinking about the time Y/N encouraged her to go watch Lando race after the whole failed wedding with Carlos. If Oscar's wife didn't listen to Y/N back then she wouldn't have met Oscar and become his wife.

"Now I'm going to do the same for you. You can handle this Y/N, I've seen you through worse." Throughout your music career, many people have tried to ruin your reputation. "I know Lewis said he'd love you all his life but that's over now. Of course, it's a lot to go through but there are millions of people out there that love you."

Your conversation was interrupted by Charles and Oscar. They could see you three were going through an emotional situation. "Uhm the lady with the headset is yelling at us to tell you it's almost show time," Oscar says as quickly as possible then closes the door.

The three of you laugh at the awkward Australian, "That's my husband." Oscar's wife says with a smile.

"You can do this Y/N," Alexandra smiles as well.

As you three stand up, you give a hug to the both of them. "Thank you guys for being here. I don't know what I would do without you." You smile and pull away. "It's time to get on stage."

"We believe in you Y/N," Alexandra says before you leave to stand on the elevating platform.

You take deep breaths before the platform elevates to the main stage. As it's elevating you tell yourself, "Lights, camera, and smile. Even if you wanna die."

But that life was too short

Breaking down, I hit the floor

All the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting, "More"

It was that segment of the concert where you would perform surprise songs to the audience.

"For one of my surprise songs tonight, I just wanted to share the story behind what I'm about to play next." You say starting to play the piano.

"London is a city I'll always love. I met the love of my life or so I thought." You were trying to hold back tears from the crowd. "That life was too short though." You smile through the tears. "I hope you like this song."

"But do you remember? Remember when I pulled up and said 'Get in the car' and then canceled my plans just in case you'd call?" You remember the times you would wait outside of Mercedes headquarters in your car to ask Lewis to spend time with you. But he didn't want to. You would cancel plans frequently just in case Lewis called. "Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all. 'Meet me behind the mall."

"So much for summer love and saying 'us.' Cause you weren't mine to lose." You were breaking down in tears singing this song. Remembering all the pieces of your relationship with Lewis shattered because there were 'differences' in your relationship.

As you continue playing the chords to August while crying, the crowd is chanting "More!"

I was grinnin' like I'm winnin'

I was hittin' my marks

'Cause I can do it with a broken heart

You looked up and grinned at the crowd. You realized that even though you lost the love of your life, it didn't matter anymore. Tons of people loved you for who you are. You were winning in life no matter what.

"It's new, the shape of your body. It's blue, the feeling I've got and it's ooh, whoa, oh. It's a Cruel Summer." The crowd goes wild at the mashup with August and Cruel Summer.

While you were hittin' all the marks to the song you realize that you could do it with a broken heart.

I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day

yn_nation #LondonYNTheErasTour I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day! 🩶 Y/N is back for five more dazzling #YNTheErasTour nights! 🤩

user1 SHE REALLY CAN DO IT WITH A BROKEN HEART

user2 it's amazing how y/n can put on a show every night while dealing with a breakup

user3 god chooses his strongest soldiers for battle 🫡

user4 did y'all see that the whole f1 grid + wags were at the show tonight? also, did you see LEWIS HAMILTON there too?

user6 WHAT!? user7 I wonder how that's going to turn out.

I'm so obsessed with him, but he avoids me like the plague

It was the F1 summer break and you decided to invite the whole grid to your last show in London. You were still close to the drivers and their wags to this day so they all said yes. What you didn't expect was your ex-boyfriend being here.

Everyone came to your room to greet you before the show started. It was almost time to start the concert but you were hoping Lewis would come by to say hi to you. You were still obsessed with him. Like Gwen Stefani said 'I'm just a girl."

"Did he come in here?" George's fiancé asks you. She knew the answer when you didn't respond.

"He's avoiding you like the plague." George scoffs and his fiancé turns around to side eye him for that comment.

You laugh at the couple for being themselves. "I really needed this laugh." You say as you get up from your chair. "I'm ready now."

Before you leave the room, you give George and his fiancé a hug. "Thanks for being here. I love and appreciate you two."

I cry a lot, but I am so productive, it's an art

"Hasn't it been an amazing week London!?" You smile as the crowd cheers for you. "It was for you guys but it was a rollercoaster of emotions for me." You laugh at your little joke. "You guys have probably seen me cry a lot the past couple of days, but I am so productive!" The crowd laughs and cheers. "It's an art!"

You start playing the piano, "I just want to say a special thank you to this city. It's a city I love so much. It has a lot of good and bad memories but you guys overrule those bad memories."

As the crowd cheers you start to explain your surprise song, "To conclude the last night of the London Eras Tour, I want to play a song or two for you guys. It might be sad at first like how I was at the beginning of the week but it gets light-hearted at the end."

You start playing the melody to So Long, London, and the whole crowd cheers. "I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist. I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift. Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away."

"My spine split from carrying us up the hill. Wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill. I stopped trying to make him laugh. Stopped trying to drill the safe." You watch the crowd and the grid sing along.

"Thinkin', how much sad did you think I had. Did you think I had in me? Oh, the tragedy." You look at the VIP tent and see Lewis. "So Long, London. You'll find someone."

The melody on the piano transitions to London Boy and the crowd goes wild. "Who enjoys walking Camden Market in the afternoon. You'll love her American smile. Like a child when your eyes meet, darling, I fancied you."

"Take her back to Highgate, she'll meet all of your best mates. So I guess all the rumors are true. You know I loved a London boy. But I'll say so long to you." As the melody fades out, the crowds cheer. You smile back at them and then look back at Lewis.

Saying so long to Lewis is hard but having the support of friends and fans made you realize that they were all you needed.

You know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart

yn_nation SO LONG, LONDON #LondonYNTheErasTour it's been an amazing week here in London. Thank you so much London fans for the good memories 🥹🤍✨

user1 you know you're good when you can PERFORM FOR A WHOLE WEEK IN FRONT OF A CROWD with a broken heart 😭

user2 the so long, london x london boy mashup 😭💔 it was basically a goodbye letter to lewis

user3 lewis was there too 🥲

tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb @c-losur3

[heavenlycloud]

all my thoughts, they're shaped like you: huh yunjin x fem! reader

request: i was wondering if you could write smth about yunjin and reader having a sleepover? it can be a smut or not js however you'd like &lt;3

a/n: i decided to write this as sfw instead of smut just bc im...not confident in my smut writing abilities rn so i hope this will suffice! enjoy and thank you so much for requesting. *please note all pictures and videos are used for creative reference to give readers a visual of hair, makeup, clothes, shoes, etc. ONLY*

guilty was your first comeback in six months and by far your most successful since your debut four years ago. originally the song was to go to one of your seniors, but it was pushed your way when another caught his attention. the song was much more mature than the other songs you'd put out in the past which increased attention towards this new side of you as an artist. the past four weeks were filled with long schedules of music and variety show appearances, photoshoots, and too many fansigns to count. however, today was the last day of schedules before you got a two week long break to rest and recover.

you stood in front of your manager who was pressing you to take pictures for instagram before you got whisked away elsewhere. he smiled as you posed and the rest of your staff members made positive comments about you and your performance outfit. you didn't even bother settling back into your dressing room because not even two seconds later there was a knock at the door. you rushed over to open it and a small face peeked through as you beamed from ear to ear.

eunchae shyly greeted your staff members and you before she stepped back and onced you over with a gasp, "you're so pretty!" you reached forward and pulled her into a hug, "you're so precious oh my god." she giggled and led you down the hallway to the room where she films Eunchae's Star Diary. when you both got inside she motioned for you to sit down and she followed behind you.

for a moment there was silence after you introduced yourself before you and eunchae began laughing and you admitted in english, "i'm sorry i don't want to be awkward...it's this is just a little funny to me because we've never actually met." eunchae agreed and answered in korean, "yeah this is our first time meeting, but i feel like i know about you a lot because yunjin unnie talks about you all the time." similar to a professional she continued, "with your new comeback, can you tell us a little bit about the album and your favorite song?" you nodded and explained more professionally, "guilty is my first album since six months ago. it's also a different sound than what i've put out before. this time i wanted to focus on something that everyone can connect with."

eunchae looked at you with wide eyes and prompted you to continue so you added, "guilt is an emotion that everyone has to some extent or another. it's a feeling that has a negative connotation and that's something i wanted to change. of course singing about positive things is good, but i think singing about negative things and presenting them in a beautiful way is equally as important. more specifically, my single guilty’ is about a selfish love that hurts the other person. it’s not coming from my experience, but i used it as a way to define what love is and express it on stage.”

the younger girl looked at you and sighed, "everything you say sounds so smart." you laughed and shyly dismissed the complement out of habit before she asked you, "who was the first person to hear the single?" you side eyed her and she grinned because she already knew the answer but for the sake of her show you sighed, "huh yunjin of le sserafim." eunchae pointed and laughed at your facial expression and you playfully rolled your eyes but she shared happily, "yunjin unnie has been singing the song nonstop since it came out. when it dropped she was telling all of us in the dorm that she heard it first! she kept bragging that it was so good but didn't tell us any hints! but it was worth the wait because the comeback is incredible, unnie!" heat bloomed in your chest at the thought of yunjin listening to your music and bragging about how talented you were to those closest to her.

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the minute you got back into your apartment after your schedule all of your messages came rushing into your notifications. your best friends had blown up your phone all day which honestly wasn't new, but scrolling through 100+ messages was kinda annoying when you were tired. then, like clockwork your phone started ringing and you answered to see one of your best friends on your screen, "hey i don't know if you saw somi's texts or not but we're having a sleepover at your place tonight." immediately you responded, "who is we? you speak french now?" on the other line she laughed and said, "don't be like that y/n."

you whined, "aeri! i just finished promotions im TIRED! and why my place and not somi's?" aeri let out a small huff and said, "somi's apartment flooded like ten minutes ago so we can't stay there. you know the rest of us aren't allowed people to stay overni-" you cut her off immediately, "hold on it's not just you and somi?" aeri looked off to the side and bit her lip, "uh...so funny story..." before she could answer someone snatched her phone and continued, "jen is coming too." you spat out the water you were sipping, "WHY WOULD YOU INVITE YUNJIN?!" somi answered casually, not taking her eyes off of the road, "i thought you would've worked stuff out by now. besides it's kinda shitty if we have a sleepover and exclude one person. it's called a friend group for a reason, right?" you huffed, "yeah i guess..."

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the friend group started just as you and giselle when she entered SM entertainment back in December of 2019. the two of you clicked immediately even though you were technically her senior, having debuted that past summer. along with her members, they were the only girls close to your age in the entire company so you were quick to befriend them as soon as you were allowed. months after meeting giselle, you met somi who debuted a month before you as a soloist. then you introduced the two and the three of you were a trio of best friends...until yunjin came into the picture.

you and yunjin were familiar with one another but you only met once at a music show when you were promoting at the same time. from there you introduced her to somi and aeri, and she was added into the friend group. once you added her into the small bunch of friends you all were complete, and dubbed, The Plastics, by fans.

for the most part everything was fine with you four except that there were times when it was hard to meet up because of busy schedules. however, you started trying to distance yourself a bit when you realized that you had a crush on yunjin. the cardinal rule of friend groups was don't date other people in the same group. despite aeri and somi swearing up and down to you that yunjin liked you back, you refused to feed into it. your best friends weren't liars but you just couldn't bring yourself to believe them for whatever reason. besides even if you confessed to yunjin you didn't think much would come of it besides a ruined friend group. so you decided that you were just going to continue trying to compartmentalize your feelings and gaslighting yourself into thinking you didn't like her.

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you ran to your room trying to get everything ready for your friends, the least you could do is have a clean apartment. the vaccuum drowned out the sounds of the city streets below your building as you dragged it across your area rug. you hummed along to oceanfromtheblue that blasted through your headphones, further muting the noise from the outside world. unbeknownst to you, yunjin had already entered your apartment. she got in using the 10 digit code on your door that she memorized just in case because that's what friends do...right?

a pair of hands gently caught your hips as you backed up with the vaccuum in hand making you scream and jump. you whipped around to see yunjin standing before you looking perfect as usual. she was only in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie with those ugg slippers she liked to leave in your apartment for when she visited you. even in a basic dressed down outfit she still looked like an angel with her red hair pulled into a messy bun with a few loose strands framing her face. the pair of glasses she wore sat low on her nose causing her to push them up before pulling you into a hug. she laughed and apologized, "y/n i'm sorry! i called out your name a few times i thought you would have heard me." you let out the breath you'd been holding and assured her, "no it's fine i shouldn't have had my headphones this loud..."

there was an awkward silence and her eyes found yours bringing out a pinkish hue to her cheeks that was only reserved for you. her hands remained on your hips and you brushed a piece of her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. the simple action sent butterflies straight to her stomach and made her catch her lip between her teeth. neither of you knew where this was headed but right before you two could figure it out, the front door swing open and aeri entered with somi, "HEY BITCHES- oh." the two of you jumped and yunjin inched away from you, "heyyyy!" somi motioned between the two of you, "did we just interrupt something or?" immediately you refused, "no we were just um... yeah anyways hey guys." you paused and realized the two let themselves in, "wait- how did you two get inside?" yunjin and your manager were the only two people who knew the password for your apartment so how did they manage to get in?"

somi pointed to her phone and said, "i wrote it down the last time yunjin and i were over. the real question is why does yunjin know it and we don't. i thought we were friends." the blonde placed her hands on her hips and pouted to which aeri added, "how do you even remember all those numbers anyways?" yunjin responded, "i memorized it after seeing y/n do it once. and it's not hard, i just remember important things." both aeri and somi shared a glance and you joked, "so basically i need to make a new passcode. got it." the three of them laughed and put their bags down so you could start your plans for the night.

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yunjin pulled out a vlogging camera from her bag and said, "i know we usually have a 'no work stuff' policy for our hangouts but i have to vlog and this is the only interesting thing i've done all week." your other friends started getting baking utensils and ingredients out of your pantry and cabinets while you preheated your oven.

the american idol stood in front of the camera and started speaking, "hi everyone! today i'm with my friends- and we're going to do the blind, mute, deaf challenge while cooking. y/n is being so kind to let us use her kitchen today!" you fake side eyed her and muttered, "you all showed up on my doorstep unannounced but okay." the three laughed and finished setting up the things you'd need.

since it was yunjin's vlog she decided how roles were split up and it was through rock paper scissors: aeri was deaf, somi and you were blind, yunjin was mute. for the sake of your kitchen and everyone's safety she decided to have two people who weren't allowed to speak. before starting the challenge yunjin explained, "so we already have the roles assigned. basically we are going to try to cook dinner together with our roles and we aren't allowed to switch or break character. so aeri is deaf- she already has her headphones on." she pointed the camera to aeri who was in her own world listening to some tyga song on blast, not paying attention to anyone else. yunjin continued, "somi and y/n are blind- wait do we have a blindfold?" she turned to you and you shook your head, "why would i have a blindfold? somi smirked and winked, "i have many blindfolds." yunjin slapped her arm and she laughed, "what?" you huffed in fake annoyance, "we should have made her one of the mute ones. yunjin finished explaining, "and i'm mute so i'm going to be silent because i didn't want to tape my face. anyways, aeri is the only one that can see the recipe and we have to follow her directions." you ended up finding two scarves in one of your drawers to tie around your and somi's heads and you all started the challenge.

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"OKAY! BOIL THE POT OF WATER!" aeri shouted loudly making you flinch at the sudden outburst. you reached your hands in front of you as you cautiously dug a pot out from your cabinet and placed it in somi's hands. the blonde started to slowly walk to your sink, hitting the front of it with a soft thud and a whine while the rest of you laughed. somi filled the pot up and gently walked it back with the help of yunjin before she turned on the stove. the rest of it went like this, yunjin slightly helping you while aeri screamed the directions to you all.

when it came to cutting the chicken somi backed away from the counter, "i don't wanna touch it ew." you muttered, "you big baby." aeri asked in confusion, "YOU SAID YOU HATE ME?" the three of you burst out laughing while aeri stood still confused, looking around then into yunjin's camera as if it would talk back to her. you stood in front of the cutting board with the raw chicken and grabbed the knife that was within reach. you thought aloud, "this is probably a bad idea having the blind one do this part of the challenge but...i have bandaids."

somi was busy trying to drain the pasta from the water with the help of aeri guiding her as yunjin nervously watched you handle the knife and raw meat. yunjin tensed as she watched you nearly cut your finger once and then placed a hand on your arm. this time you didn't jump at her touch and let her come behind you. her hands placed gently atop yours and you giggled before playfully asking, "oh my god what is this? so romantic." beside you somi and aeri pretended to gag, somi not even facing the right direction as she teased you. when you both finished cutting the meat, yunjin moved from behind you and immediately you missed her body pressed against yours.

the remainder of you all cooking was a hot mess. from aeri forgetting she was in charge of instructions to take mini dance breaks, to somi trying to spoon in pasta water into the sauce with a fork by accident, yunjin trying to mime out her questions about the recipe to aeri, and you walking smack into the open refrigerator door- the whole thing was a mess. but an entertaining one that fans would love to watch once it was uploaded. somehow by some miracle you all managed to make the food exactly how it was supposed to taste which paid off at the end.

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hours passed and aeri and somi had fallen asleep after crying their eyes out to the notebook that just finished playing. you poked aeri with your foot and her head lolled to the side limply making you and yunjin laugh. you pointed to your tv and asked, "did you like the movie?" the red aired woman nodded and mumbled quietly, "yeah, it was good. i understand the hype now but it was sad too. i love a happy ending but leading up to it was sad, you know?" you agreed and admitted, "i was mad when they made me watch it for the first time so you're better than me. all of that emotion just for me to get something kinda nice at the end, it was exhausting." she hummed in agreement and you both fell silent.

yunjin's hands brushed your hair gently, the softness of your silk press beneath her fingers was different from the way you usually wore it. unlike when most people touched your hair, you didn't pull away or dodge her hands running through the strands. instead you scooted closer to her and smiled when she began dutch braiding one of the sides on your head. the two of you basked in the quiet which was the first of it's kind tonight.

there was a small snag in your hair that caused you to almost whimper when her long fingers tugged at it. yunjin murmured an apology and pressed a gentle kiss to the spot before continuing. she then spoke up, "imagine just...forgetting who you are and everyone you love like that."

you didn't think before answering, "i almost did. when i left home and came here. i was around people that said i needed to leave my old life behind if i wanted to be successful here. i was naive and thought it was true, that my past would hold me back so i tried to let it all go. i only realized they were wrong after i was all alone." yunjin began braiding the other side of your head and asked, "so how'd you fix it?" you answered, "i met people who were like me and i made friends and talked to people. i tried to do things that reminded me of home, like being around you guys." yunjin finished your two braids and you turned around to see her smiling at you fondly. she could see the slight pain hidden behind your gaze as you recall one of the harder times in your life.

yunjin sighed and blurted out, "you smell like home." for a moment she froze and you pulled away and asked, "like new york? cuz that's not a complement if i smell like a new york street." yunjin laughed and answered nervously, "no you just...i don't know you're just- whenever i'm with you i feel at home." she moved down to the floor mattress you laid out earlier that night, knowing somi and aeri would be laid out on the couch like they are now.

you laid side by side as you told yunjin, "it feels like that with you too, like i'm back in the states just living without worries like now." yunjin bit her lip debating on if she wanted to do this now, but she caved into herself, "that's not what i meant but it's okay." you turned to face her, now laying on your side as you asked, "what did you mean then?"

yunjin felt her heart begin to race and she tried to brush it off, "no there's nothing." but you were determined to understand what she meant so you asked, "no, talk to me. what's going on in your head? tell me. i want to know, i want to know everything about you." of course yunjin knew that you weren't ever going to force her to speak, so she still had an out if she wanted to just not continue the conversation. however, she was tired doing this same dance with you where she almost admitted her feelings then ran away at the last minute. she knew that even if you didn't feel the same way that you wouldn't let that ruin the friendship you already have so she bit the bullet.

there was a pause then yunjin huffed and confessed "when i'm with you i feel safe, like i have nothing to worry about. i can just be myself and i know you'll never judge me or leave because i express myself the way i want to. whenever i'm not with you, you're still living in my head...all of my thoughts, they're shaped like you. i love you and i love being around you and being with you and i never want to leave your side which is why i try not to come too close because i can't risk fucking this up. but here i am telling you what i told myself i'd take to the grave so...just promise me if this screwed everything up and judging by your silence i think it did- just pretend it never happened and leave somi and aeri out of thi-" you refused to let her talk herself into thinking she ruined everything, "i love you too."

yunjin's breath caught in her throat and you repeated, "i love you too, huh yunjin. i love you so much and i love being around you and with you too." she sat up so she was upright then looked back down at you until you were sitting beside her. the small nightlight on your hallway outlet was the only thing allowing you to see her eyes locked on yours. you inched closer to her and brought your arms to rest on her shoulders while her hands were on your waist. her long fingernails scratched the ribbing of your tank top while your fingers twirled with a piece of her hair.

her forehead pressed against yours and you whispered, "what does this make us then?" yunjin shrugged and giggled which made you smile, "i dunno but we can figure it out together?" you asked, "yeah?" she nodded and you noticed how she eyed your two friends who were asleep tangled together yet half off the couch. she looked back at you and asked, "so when do we tell them?" you scrunched your nose and placed a gentle peck on yunjin's lips. the red haired woman paused then kissed you twice more, "who says we have to?" right when you pressed your lips against hers for the last time, a bright flash lit up your entire living room. you both looked over and aeri smacked somi's arm as she soft whisper yelled, "what part of NO FLASH did you not understand?" the two smiled as big as they could from ear to ear before yunjin let out a huff and sighed, "you all suck."

[taesanluv3r]

flower shop confessions.

kim woonhak x reader

another woonhak love confession story 😭 im sorry im just really obsessed w the idea of woonhak telling his crush he likes her and it cld go so many ways and i feel like i HAVE to put all my ideas out there TT ALSO this is rlly ass cause im still on my trip and didnt bring my laptop so pls pls excuse the spelling mistakes / grammatical errors 💔 i just REALLY needed to write this 😭😭 okay lowercase intended, pls enjoy <3

wc: 1,531

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listen to 1980s horror film by wallows while reading...!

he didn't know what it was. maybe it was the way she said his name, the way each syllable ran smoothly out of her mouth. perhaps it was the concern on her face when his clumsy self tripped over his own shoelaces, and the constant nagging and scolding she'd give him afterwards. it could be just…her in general. the way her hair fell down below her shoulders, how she wore her clothes in such a way so she wouldn't look as short as she really was. whatever it was, kim woonhak was completely and utterly, ridiculously in love with her...with yn ln.

yet he was absolutely oblivious.

sure he knew he felt something, why else would his heart beat faster when she was nearby? why on earth would his ears perk up upon hearing her name? even worse when he hears her voice. but the idiot was nothing more than a child, an immature little prick who couldn’t quite grasp the concept of being in love. these feelings confused him, there was no way he could understand them himself, he needed some help.

“what’s up, kid?”

myung jaehyun. arguably the best person to ask for advice from, and historically the worst! but hey, you live and you learn; not with jaehyun though, there is not a single thought in his head. “hyung i need your help, i was gonna ask taesan hyung but i figured he’d make fun of me…” he spoke naturally, not an ion of nervousness in his voice, but this was before he started to think about her again. “it’s yn, yn ln” he began, heart beating faster already. jae nodded his head slightly, allowing the younger boy to continue.

“i don’t know how i feel about her. i don’t think i like her like that, but whenever she’s around i just get so nervous and my whole body gets on this fight or flight mode. she makes me so…breathless? yeah, it’s like she physically stabbed me in the gut and stole all of my organs. i don’t get it, i used to be able to talk to her so easily but nowadays i just…can’t? not without panicking inside and stuttering. she’s ruining my cool guy persona!!! what do i do!?”

the senior boy let out a chuckle, finding the junior’s rant and obvious infatuation for the girl a little bit hysterical. woonhak was even more lost now, lifting an eyebrow up in utter confusion when his friend finally calmed himself down. “look kid, it’s obvious you have feelings for her. and it’s okay to not know what that feeling is. just go with your gut on this, and if you’re still unsure…give it a couple days and when you’re really desperate, tell her. tell her all the things you told me. i can’t guarantee you any great outcome, but maybe it’ll help” the younger boy nodded, bidding the myung guy goodbye before leaving the highschool’s library and deciding to get some fresh air on his walk home.

about halfway through his walk he felt a wave of goosebumps wash over his skin; it was odd considering the fact that the weather was exceptionally warmer today, not to mention the boy wore his school’s varsity jacket. what in the world could have caused this? and that’s when she saw her.

he sighed, the yellow-ish tint of the pretty fairy lights that combed the roof of the flower shop on the street illuminated against her skin. her hair had seemingly grown a little longer overnight, he’d know, for he remembered rather clearly that it hadn’t reached her collarbones the way it did today the day before. it was nearly six pm, but the girl still wore the star academy uniform, a white button-up with the red and blue skirt with her black sweater layered on top. she worked at the rose-scented shop after her lessons right after school three times a week, and today just so happened to be one of those days…

she was pretty, he has always thought so. ever since they bumped into each other at school one day, and coincidentally she moved into the same neighbourhood as him the next week. he had talked to her before, in fact, they were rather close. it was only recently he had been feeling different, just the mere sight of her sent grumbly butterflies to overflow his stomach. even when she did the most mundane things, like tie up her hair or take pictures of the pretty sunset, or like right now; helping some old lady pick the perfect flowers for a large bouquet…yn ln made kim woonhak’s heart melt into pieces.

he didn’t know how he got there, he must’ve been too deep in his thoughts to notice that his feet had taken him into the flower shop. the ding of the bell atop the door shook him out of his trance, and alerted the female worker. his friend, but as of right now he wanted her to be something more. “woonhak! just got back from dance practice? i hear the team has a competition at the end of the month” yn was cheerful as she rearranged some of the lavender that was left on her counter from her last customer. “mhmm, practice is going really good, heard you’re doing the decoration and costume for us?” his sentence came out breathier than usual, it was the unconscious worry that he’d say something wrong. she nodded before she began to silently sing along to the songs that shuffled from her playlist.

~ she was only seventeen, oh why are girls in songs always seventeen? ~

“is there anything i could help you with?” she asked, 1980s horror film by wallows blasting out of the vintage speaker she bought at a thrift store the other day. “yeah um, i thought, while i’m here, i should be a good child and get my mom some flowers. but if i’m honest, i don’t know what to get” he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head while she mirrored his movement; except she actually had an itch on her neck. “hmm, well your mom seems like a young soul who’s got a big heart. so i’d go with the poppies, lilies and ranunculus. they symbolise youth, innocence, grace and…what was it? oh! and joy”

she looked so passionate when she spoke, and after he had agreed with her choices, kim began to stare. not in a creepy way, of course. rather, he was enchanted by her focus; her tongue stuck out as she arranged the flowers, and he noticed her little huffs in annoyance when the loose strands of hair fell against her face. she looked so…in her element and all the boy could think was…’shit, she’s perfect’

~ she was from a movie scene, and now she plays in my head all day ~

“alright, here you go!” yn smiled brightly, handing the boy the bouquet and the pennies of change. “ah, thank you so much!” he mimicked her grin, heart-eyes all too obvious as he retrieved the flowers from her grasp. “anything else i could help you with?” she asked finally, tilting her head slightly as she did so. now was his chance, he’d have to play it smooth…it was now or never, kim woonhak had to confess.

he thought about his next move as if he were playing a game of chess. the advice he had gotten from jaehyun earlier retrograded in his mind. then he remembered where he stood, and i don’t mean that as in mentally, i mean physically; in a flower shop. just perfect.

“yeah, so basically i’m in love with this girl, and i wanted to know if there was a flower to say…eternal love? or you know, something of that sense” smooth one woonhak, smooth. there was a slight frown that casted upon the girl’s face, but before he could ask her what was wrong, she had straightened herself out and began helping him out. “yes! um- red roses, they’re a classic for this…here, i just un-thorned this one” her voice came out quieter, juxtaposing the way she usually was. instead of worrying him, her reaction gave him a slight bit of hope. he grabbed the single rose from her, thanking her before he pretended to leave. once he was at the foot of the door he turned on his heels,

"oh!"

he exclaimed, walking back towards her counter when she lifted an eyebrow at him in confusion. “this is for you, actually…so um, call me?” and he handed her back the rose, shooting her a crooked smile and quick wink before pacing out of the store to save himself from further embarrassment, just in the case that she didn’t feel the same.

later that evening, when kim woonhak laid on his comfy bed, the one with the tayo the little bus bed sheets he's had for ages, he felt a sickening feeling of nerves racking throughout his body. she still hasn’t called or texted. but all that worry was to be washed away when his phone chimed a familiar sound.

yn (pls love me 💔):

i love you too, woonhak <3 see you at school tomorrow? and thank u for the rose 🌹

...

SCORE!

the end.

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LMAOAOAO this was so random idk 😭 again sorry if this sucks balls im still away n dont have my laptop </3 love u guys tysm for reading. feedback n reblogs r greatly appreciated!! love, kona.