#i don’t feel like i’m doing enough at all

[fairy-hub]

“𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐩!”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! creampie/fucking his previous load of cum into you, mating press, toji is a mean teasing bully, pussy slapping, choking, taunting/degradation, hints at cock warning, light size kink, praising Toji, daddy, begging, pain kink

fey: let’s see if tumblr likes this better!

“Look at all that cum drippin’ out.” He squeezes your thigh making it harder for you to move your weak legs.

Digging your nails into his hard pecs, you’re pleading with Toji “Please move! Please! You’d said if I could make ya cum you’d fuck me please! You’re cock is so hard inside me, please fuck me! Please!” Grinding your hips, it feels so good to have his thick cock pushing some of his cum deeper into you.

You feel like a dirty whore already full of your husband’s cum yet craving more. You couldn’t get enough of Toji, his deep voice, his large hands and fat veiny cock are addictive.

Toji tucks an arm behind his head, his muscular biceps subtly flexing, “Ya really want me to fuck ya still, you’re that much of a whore? You’re already filled with my cock n’ cum, what more do you need?”

You beg, “For you to move please! You started this by rubbing on me telling me how you’ve been thinking about cumming in me. N’ I've been so good fucking myself on your cock!” He smirks when you try to pout whilst bouncing yourself on his cock.

“And whose is the pathetic slut who gets wet for me so easily?” He roughly grabs your throat and hip, holding you to him. It’s effortless how he gets off

“And whose is the pathetic slut who gets wet for me so easily?” He roughly grabs your throat and hip, holding you to him. It’s effortless how he gets off the bed with you in his grasp and his cock buried in your cunt.

He presses you against the wall, holding you there by your throat as he pulls his cock out. Roughly slapping your cunt, “C’mon tell me ya stupid lil whore otherwise I won’t let you cum.” Your body jolts from each harsh slap making your soaking wet cunt sting. His thick cum drips when your cunt clenches nothing. As you claw at Toji’s large hand, desperate to answer. You pathetic attempts making him smirk down at you.

He lines himself up, “Too late! I guess you don’t wanna cum.” Rocking his cock into you with a quick roll of his hips. Filling your sloppy wet cunt up, his fat head rubbing your sweet spot making your toes curl.

Toji loosens his firm hold on your throat, with any air you get you’re pleading. “Please lemme cum! I wanna cum on your cock! It feels so much better when you help me cum! Please I’m a greedy slut who gets turned on by you too easily.”

He grabs your thighs pinning you in a mating press. There is no where to run, trapping against the wall his massive muscular body so he can bully your cunt with his cock however he pleases.

“You’re so hot n big! I love the scar on your lip, how your hands feel when you grope me. Please daddy! I wanna cum on your cock lemme cum I’ve been a good slut! I’ve rode your cock till you came in me please!” He leans down quieting your pleads with a rough kiss.

You slip your fingers into his dark hair making him groan when you tug on it. His kiss softens when you whine, it’s so loving and sweet the way he’s making out with you. Contrasting his merciless rough, steady thrusts that are perfectly ruining your sloppy wet cunt.

Biting your bottom lip before he pulling away. Toji looks down to watch your soaking wet cunt take his fat cock. “I’ll give you another chance, how badly does my stupid brat wanna cum on my cock?”

all works!

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 5

in which spencer reid and fem!reader are reunited, but the worst kind of sparks are flying. you meet a man named randall. derek morgan buys you a drink (sort of). it seems that some things can't be unsaid.

part one | two | three | bonus chapter | four

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: r goes to a bar but doesn't drink alcohol, gets hit on by weird men, dramatic, angst, sorry in advance a/n: surprise! i'll see myself out. love you! lmk your thoughts on this bad boy! i KNOW you'll have some! i'm locking all my doors and the cops are on speed dial after posting this. stay tuned for part six tho

You don’t call Spencer for four days. 

Spencer doesn’t call you for four days. 

It’s scary. 

There’s some texting—mostly him giving you updates on how things are going and when he expects to be back. Mostly you giving the messages a thumbs up and saying nothing else. 

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, his ringtone (the Bill Nye theme) makes you jump as you’re sitting on your bed staring into space. 

His caller ID photo—which is simply his passport photo, because you’d thought it was adorable—stares at you. You stare back. Contemplate not picking up. 

But you’re not quite there yet. 

And you cannot keep listening to Bill Nye the Science Guy. 

The answer button is cold under your thumb, but not as cold as your greeting. 

“Hi.”

You barely recognize your own voice. 

It seems to send Spencer for a loop as well, because his reply is halting. 

“Hey! Hi, um—how are you? I feel like we’ve barely talked this week.”

That would be because you told me my feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me and I don’t know how to stop making every single word I say secretly mean I love you. We can’t have a conversation without me loving you. It will always be in the room or on the phone with us. To ignore the presence of it is impossible, and I don’t know if I can ignore the absence of yours, either. 

“Uh… yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?”

There’s a pause. 

“We wrapped up this morning. We’re getting on the jet here in a few minutes, and, um—I know it’s not ideal, but we missed Derek’s birthday and Penelope is insisting we all go to his favorite bar tonight. And he told me that for his birthday he wants to meet you. So… would you be up for that?”

“You want… to take me to a bar?”

“No. I mean—I know it’s not really your thing, but we missed Derek’s birthday three years in a row, and—and I understand if you don’t want to meet him tonight, but we wouldn’t have to stay very long and I really, really shouldn’t skip it. Derek has saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“You could go without me.”

More silence. Every second hurts, but you don’t understand why he wants you to come meet his best friend if he thinks the two of you are in different places emotionally. 

But maybe he’s not going to break up with you just yet. Maybe he’s going to keep inviting you to bars and foreign film festivals and bookshops. Maybe he’s going to treat you exactly the same as he always has but with this new added layer of knowledge that the way he treats you isn’t actually love, and it never was, and you’re not sure if it has the potential to ever become love. Because if it did—wouldn’t it have already? What more do you have to offer than what you’ve already given him?

Breakup or no breakup, you feel sick. 

When he speaks his tone is similarly chilly. It’s welcome. You want him mad. If he can’t reciprocate your adoration, then the very least he can do is have the decency to reciprocate your reproach. 

“I could. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t want any of this. I need you to know me well enough to know that. And if you can’t love me then at least get angry. At least show me you feel something other than passive contentment. 

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t know.”

A pause stretches so long your heart pounds. You watch the elapsed time of the call tick by, second by second, and you wait for the anticipation to crack under the weight of silence, to give way to some terrible jump scare or to give way at all. 

But the words that end the conversation (if you can even call it that) aren’t any great relief. They’re just sad, and chalk full of defeat. 

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll call you later.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed an ice cube. All the words you’d like to say are frozen in your stinging throat. 

“Okay. Um… I’ll let you board now.”

“The jet’s not…” but he trails off. When he speaks again he sounds just as hurt as you’d wanted—and it doesn’t make you feel better at all. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and your face is burning as tears fill your eyes for the hundredth time this week. That call was terrible and poisonous and you don’t feel like yourself. 

Things have gone so wrong so quickly, and all you know how to do is ice him out so he can’t do it to you first. But it’s not going to make this better. No matter how mean you are to him, at the root of it all you feel unloved and scared and alone and Spencer knows things about love and relationships that you don’t. He’s confusing you with all this talk of feeling differently about each other and I’ll be home tomorrow I miss you and things get complicated when one person likes the other more and let’s talk in person and will you come meet my best friend tonight. All of it leaves you motion sick and ugly crying in the fetal position. 

All you have to get through this is who you’ve always been, a little of the person you’ve become, and the love you harbor for Spencer which rattles around in your chest like a nail in an empty toolbox. At the moment it hardly seems helpful. It mocks you, pointing out the pathetic hilarity of your paradox. The only person who can comfort you, the person you want more than anything, is the reason you’re so upset in the first place. But you can’t help being drawn to him. 

Maybe the love you have for Spencer is more like a magnet in a compass. 

Even if he doesn’t feel it for you, you do love Spencer. And that goes beyond just loving the parts of him that like you. To hide from that love would be a gross disservice to yourself and all the work you’ve done to get here. It’s not as if you suddenly know exactly what the answer is—but you’re sure that hiding is the most childish, cowardly thing you could do and the furthest you could get from a resolution. Even if you can’t make him love you back, you refuse to allow yourself to fizzle quietly out of his life. This relationship deserves something more than that. 

So maybe you don’t have a plan when you wipe your eyes and pick up your phone. Maybe there’s no strategy behind your actions as you text Garcia for the bar location. But if you keep running from everything you’ll never get anywhere. All you can do is show up. It seems like the next best step. 

------

The pub isn’t too crowded—but for a Thursday night, you suppose it’s a bit busy. 

Boot heels hooked onto the metal foot-beam of the stool you’re sitting on, elbows resting on the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you’re staring into an untouched mixed drink. Then you glance down the bar to your right, at the man who’d bought it for you. 

Maybe your ensemble gave him the wrong idea. 

Coming to this gathering had required bravery, and you came armored. Your ensemble projects significantly more confidence than you’re currently feeling. It was intentional, a form of self-protection—but now you’re wondering if it’s projecting a little too much confidence. 

All done up, clearly still a little rough around the edges, and sitting alone at a bar was bound to draw the wrong pairs of eyes. 

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff man says, approaching when you inadvertently catch his gaze. “Are you gonna drink that, or should I? Otherwise I’m lookin’ at eleven dollars right down the drain.”

You avert your eyes, scanning the groups dotted here and there. 

“I’m waiting for friends.”

“Does that make a free drink less appealing?”

He takes the stool next to you, off-gassing the scent of cigarettes and leather. 

“I’m not drinking.”

“Really? I’ve never seen a girl who looks as sad as you do come sit at the bar to stay sober.”

You frown, looking back up at the man next to you. He seems like the Hell’s Angels type—tattooed knuckles, leather jacket, grey beard, and a weathered face that’s clearly spent decades with the sun. Fifties, maybe younger and just looks more rugged. What does it say about how I look tonight that this is the kind of man I’m attracting, you wonder. Maybe you look desperate and just as lonely as you feel. As he claims you do. 

“I’m not sad.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But a happier girl wouldn’t be all alone.”

“I’m waiting for friends,” you repeat, letting the words drip like venom from your tongue. 

“I’m Randall. See? Now we're friends.”

“I don’t need more friends. I like the ones I have.”

Something catches Randall’s attention long enough to catch yours. He raises his bottle vaguely, gesturing beyond your shoulder. 

“Are those angry lookin’ guys in the suits marching right over here the friends you’re talking about?”

You turn your head, brows furrowed, and immediately see the gentlemen to whom your new pal is pointing out. 

Spencer is storming across the bar looking close to furious (which for him, means an expression so placid it gives you chills) followed by Derek Morgan—a man who you’ve only seen pictures of and is even more impressive in person. 

You hate how your breath catches, how your heart is already beating a little faster than usual at the sight of him even though you’re not exactly pleased with each other right now. 

Suddenly the bubbles in your cocktail are once again fascinating.

“Those are the ones.”

“And why are they dressed for church?”

Church?

“They’re FBI.”

“Ah. My lucky fuckin’ day.”

You almost snort. 

“Hey,” Spencer says sternly, hand settling on your back as he partially fills the small space between you and the strange man. “Who’s this?”

You shrug, sit up a little straighter, and take a shallow breath—not because you’re scared of this man but because Spencer is suddenly so close to you and you can feel his warmth and the air bending around him and the scent of him is genuinely dizzying to you. 

“Randall,” you exhale unenthusiastically. But the odd thing is that you’re rather grateful for Randall’s presence. Because now Spencer is here and you have no idea what you’re going to say to him. 

“Oh,” Randall says, sipping his beer unhurriedly before using it to gesture to Spencer. “You’re the boyfriend. You know, that’s funny, because she didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t mention anything. We weren’t having a real conversation.”

Randy holds his hands up defensively, fingers still wrapped around the neck of a sweating bottle. 

“I’m just saying it’s in-ter-esting. Not trying to start anything.” He stands, pauses for another sip—Spencer obviously isn’t sure what to make of this man because he says nothing. “But listen, man to man—you better buy her some flowers or a real pretty fuckin’ necklace or somethin’ because a happy girl in a happy relationship does not come pout at the bar all by herself.”

“Get out of here, man,” Derek finally speaks up. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He sets his empty bottle down and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it between his lips. “But—just for the record—I have a wife. I wasn’t gonna do anything weird. Sometimes when you’re my age you just gotta live a little. Buy a pretty girl a drink. Piss off some Mormons, or whatever the fuck you are.”

This guy sounds like a bad Bruce Springsteen song. But part of you would almost rather hang out with Randall than be forced into a conversation you’re not prepared for with Spencer. 

And whose fault is that, you remind yourself. You decided to come be mature. Suck it up. 

“Goodnight,” Derek emphasizes. 

Spencer doesn’t say a word. You can feel his eyes boring smoking holes into the side of your face, and you look anywhere else.  

“I’ll be here next week after physical therapy like clockwork,” the stranger waves as he ambles away—but not before pointing at you. “You enjoy that drink, friend. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

What a weird man. 

There’s silence for a moment—in which Spencer refuses to stop watching you and you refuse to acknowledge that. 

“And here I was thinking Spencer made you up.” Derek has a beautiful smile and a warm, charming cadence as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Derek.”

You take the proffered hand and shake, offering him a shy smile and introducing yourself in kind. 

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry for crashing your party.”

Really, he’s stunning. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. And you’re not crashing anything. I told pretty boy here I wanted to meet you the second he started talking about a friend. But nah, he just wanted to talk and talk and talk about you—” 

“Alright,” Spencer mumbles, blushing, eyes finally torn from your profile. You smile slightly, brows knitting as Derek magically melts some of the terrible tension.

“Pretty boy?”

Before either of them can explain, someone shrieks in your general direction. You startle backward in your seat, and Spencer steps closer, hand sliding up your back as Penelope, JJ, and Emily join your little huddle. For only a second you allow yourself to shrink into him—before you’re straightening your posture like your spine is a metal rod and his touch burns. It’s a knee-jerk defensive reaction for which you have no explanation. You can’t see him, but you don’t feel his hand on you again. 

“Oh my god! Look at this beautiful person who I love!” Penelope exclaims, pushing past Derek to grab your face and kiss both of your cheeks. “Oh my god,” she says again, wiping sticky lipgloss away with her thumbs, “I totally meant to ask before I did that. But your face is just so kissable. I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“Hi, Penelope,” you smile half-heartedly, incapable of reciprocating her cheery mood. Fortunately, she’s cheery enough for a standard commercial flight’s worth of people, and probably thinks of Derek’s birthday as a national holiday—so she doesn’t pick up on this. 

Emily and JJ offer you tamer although perfectly kind greetings. 

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Emily asks, leaning closer to examine the forgotten beverage in front of you. 

“Not that,” Spencer mutters, grabbing the glass and sliding it away from you. You give him an affronted look—and immediately wish you hadn’t, since you’re meeting his eyes for the first time since he left. His words stall for just a moment as his eyes dart between yours before he’s saying, “you shouldn’t accept a drink if you didn’t watch someone make it.”

The audacity of him to be acting protective makes you scoff. 

“That guy didn’t spike my drink. He was harmless.”

“People thought Ted Bundy was harmless, too.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that you don’t even have a response—your eyes simply narrow and you shake your head. A claustrophobic silence falls over the small group. 

“Okay…” JJ murmurs. “Um, do you guys want to go check out the jukebox with me? We have to play all of the birthday boy’s favorites.”

Several enthusiastic yeses go around, but you’re too busy having a stand off with your boyfriend to take much notice. 

Soon, it’s just the two of you. 

“Controlling isn’t a good look for you,” you finally say, spinning to rest your elbows on the bar once more and studying the bottles of liquor on the shelves beyond. 

“Evasive and avoidant isn’t particularly flattering, either. I was under the impression that you had no intention of coming after that phone call earlier.” 

You scoff again as your blood heats. Already the conversation is going worse than you’d expected—and your expectations were not high. 

“Do you think the cab driver was a serial killer, too? Or maybe the bartender?”

He’s still behind you and slightly to the side—but he leans down, resting his own fists on the bar right next to you and speaking lowly, directly over your shoulder. 

“Why don’t you try speaking to me like we’re adults instead of starting meaningless arguments in order to get under my skin?”

From him, that hurts. 

It’s a branch on the tree of your greatest insecurity—the fear that you’re too inexperienced with relationships and that makes you too immature and he’s been lying every time he says it’s not an issue. Because of course it’s an issue. It’s why you fell in love with him, it’s why you don’t know how to fix it, and it’s why you’re incapable of actually expressing any of your feelings to him.

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” you whisper—as sharp and stinging as a poison dart. “I’m trying to be a fucking adult. I don’t want to be here.”

Silence. 

“Then why did you come?”

His voice is so calm it burns like dry ice. 

“Because! Because you asked me to, because—”

You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud. 

Because I’m obviously still in love with you and I can’t just turn that off. I tried to do the right thing. 

Instead you bury your face in your hands and let it hang in the air, unspoken. You know he knows. You just don’t know why he’s acting like you’re so unreasonable for being upset. 

“Let me make this very clear to you,” Spencer murmurs, brushing your hair away from your ear so tenderly, speaking so softly you could convince yourself that he’ll say something kind. It’s the closest he’s been in days and now that he’s here you feel how much you missed him in your bones. And even though you sense a trap, you can’t help but sit up straighter. You’ll be complicit in your own undoing if it means you can have him close. His breath shakes slightly as he inhales and you brace as best you can. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You told me you weren’t coming and then you decided to show up. I was ready to give you the space that you were too scared to ask me for. But I can only take responsibility for so much of what is ultimately your bad behavior and your adolescent volatility. You can only blame so much of your bad behavior on inexperience before I run out of patience because I don’t find thoughtlessness and emotional immaturity compelling. I told you that if there is a disparity in the way we feel for each other, that was fine, and I meant it. But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back. I am not holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want. So don’t waste your time punishing me because you don’t want to be here. And if you do want to be here, good. I want that too. But act like an adult and make a decision. My leniency has limits, even for you. I am asking that you do not push it any further than you already have.”

You don’t know how long it’s been since your last breath by the time he finishes his address.

Long enough that you’re dizzy when you push away from the bar and shoulder through the throng of patrons as quickly as you reasonably can without outright running. 

Long enough that when you burst out the door into the biting-cold night air, and finally take a deep, gasping breath, it burns and stings and aches and so does your head and your eyes as they well with hot, furious, heartbroken tears. 

You speed-walk to the end of the block, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries and all the curse words you’d love to scream. 

Part of you knows you walked away from the bar in case he decided to try and follow you—but when you look over your shoulder the sidewalk is empty. You should’ve known better than to think he’d follow you after that. But at least it means you can have your breakdown by the relative safety of the bar, leaning your back against the dirty brick facade next to the entrance alcove and sliding down until your butt hits the cold concrete and you don’t even care. 

Who the fuck was that man in the bar who looked like Spencer and sounded like Spencer but spoke to you like this is all your fault, like it’s your fault you love him and he doesn’t love you back, like it’s ridiculous that you’d be upset, like you’re cruel and petty for having feelings about it, about him—for having any fucking feelings at all? And to think that was the man who you let know you more intimately than anyone ever has. Every insecurity you’d ever admitted to him was hurled back in your face like it was nothing. Hell—he even handed you the ones you’d never mentioned. He proved every terrible thought you’ve been having about yourself right. 

How could he be so unabashedly mean to you?

Spencer doesn’t have to love you. It seems clearer now than ever that he doesn’t. But part of you wonders if he suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury because that’s the only explanation for why he could go from treating you how he did before to treating you like he doesn’t even like you. 

You feel like you might throw up. 

“Called it,” a rasping, grumbling voice says from a few feet away. 

You look up, and spot fucking Randall standing under a street light ten feet away, still smoking. 

You go back to studying the tar spots on the sidewalk through bleary eyes. Pebbles sting as they press into your palms. Another one of the universe’s terrible jokes, you suppose. Just earlier you’d thought that you’d rather talk to Randall than Spencer and now here you are and here he is. 

“That kid as much of a dipshit punk as I thought he was?”

Hearing Spencer described as a kid and a dipshit punk is so jarring you almost stop crying. 

“He’s not a dipshit,” you sniff, voice thick with tears as you find yourself explaining Spencer Reid to this stranger for no reason at all. “He has an IQ of 187. He’s a genius.”

“Ah,” he scoffs dismissively, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Dipshit-ism don’t discriminate. Anyone can be one. Even your genius punk boyfriend. As a recovering dipshit myself I know what the work of a fellow dipshit looks like. And this has dipshit written all over it.”

You sob harder. 

Randall speaks calmly around his cigarette. 

“You know, I’m sorry for whatever you got goin’ on. But I’ve never not been the asshole when I got a hysterical woman in front of me. It’s nice that I can confidently say this time it is not my fault.”

The bar door opens, letting a warm burst of jovial music and chatter into the otherwise still night. Steps that are too heavy to be Spencer’s hit the concrete next to you—you look to your left and see Derek Morgan before he looks down and sees you. 

“Hey—you okay out here?”

“Why don’t you go ask your Jehovah’s Witness buddy? He did this.”

Derek makes a face, locating the source of this interjection. 

“Sir, I asked you to leave her alone once and I don’t appreciate being made to repeat myself. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, whatever. Fuck me for making friendly conversation, I guess. Gonna have to call my wife and tell her to pick me up down the street. I don’t want her on the damn phone while she’s driving.”

Randall wanders away again, still muttering to himself and smoking. Derek watches him go, staring daggers into his back until he turns his gaze to you. 

Goodbye, Randall, you think. Great. Now I have neither of them. 

“Hey,” he softens, crouching down to your level. “You okay?”

You sniff, wiping your cheeks and attempting not to smudge your makeup. It’s impossible not to feel awkward—you just met this guy and now he’s here trying to do emotional labor for you on his birthday. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is embarrassing.”

“You don’t look fine. Can I do anything for you? Do you want some food? A drink?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know, I know. But look—Reid is always talking about you. You’re important to him, and he’s important to me. I’ve never seen him this happy and I’ve known that kid a long time. It is in my best interest that someone maintain you, and if it’s not him, it’ll be me. Call it a favor to him, if that makes you feel better.” Derek is sporting a slightly more modest Cheshire grin again by the end of his sentence. Listening to him speak that way about Spencer speaking about you, it’s impossible not to feel a teeny bit lighter. Even if you’re not entirely sure where you stand on all things Spencer related at the moment. “So I’ll ask you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You sniff again. 

“Sure. A ginger ale or something might be good.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. And come inside if Randall tries to run up on you again, okay?”

Despite yourself you manage a laugh at the way he says the name. His warm smile flickers warmer at this.  

“Will do.”

When Derek returns a few minutes later, the plastic cup he’s holding looks decidedly not like ginger ale. 

“Penelope insisted that this is what you would want. I don’t even know.”

You smile slightly as you take the cup, full to the brim with bubbles and thick red syrup. A cherry bobs underneath the layer of cubed ice. 

“Shirley temple,” you chuckle. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again, and you look into your cup as you drink. Maybe your face warms just a bit. You’re still shy around men, you realize. Especially attractive ones. And Derek Morgan definitely qualifies as attractive. 

“So,” he begins, and to your surprise, crouches down in front of you. “I have to be honest—I came out here in the first place because Reid sent me to check on you. But now I’m wondering what the hell he did.”

Spencer sent him. A considerate action that would theoretically signal his care for your feelings. You take another sip, staring into space and trying to digest this information, but it only jumbles with the rest to confuse you more. 

Of course, you don’t know how to convey this to Derek in a way that’s not overly-familiar for just having met the man, so you go with an old standby. 

“I’m probably just overreacting.”

“Uh-huh. I have sisters. I know what an overreaction looks like and if you were overreacting you wouldn’t be out here hiding. What’d he do?”

You can only keep up the facade of emotional stability for so long. Your chin wobbles in a horribly embarrassing way and you look down again. 

“I’m not sure—I’m not sure if he really did anything or if I’m just being dramatic and I don’t want to make him seem—”

“Why don’t you stop defending him and just tell me what he did?” Derek urges. “Trust me—I love that kid to death. But I also know he can be a dick sometimes. You don’t need to worry about making him look bad in front of me.”

Part of you is glad Spencer has such a good friend on his side. And Derek is right—Spencer is an adult. You don’t need to worry about besmirching his reputation. So you take a shuddering sigh, staring into the red of your drink. 

“He just doesn’t like me as much as I like him. Which isn’t his fault, like I said, but—he’s being such an asshole about it.”

Derek pulls a face, strong eyebrows making an impression as they knit.  

“Did he tell you that?”

“Over the phone,” you nod emphatically. “And just now he gave me this whole fucking speech about how immature and horrible I am for not being 100% happy about it. And maybe he’s partially right, I mean—I know people feel things differently and maybe he just was asking for more time. I worry I fucked it up so bad because I couldn’t handle that—but at the same time he didn’t say he wanted more time. He was really fucking unclear and vague about what he wanted, and he asked me to come to this bar like it was nothing when I’ve been worried he was going to break up with me all week. So yeah, I guess he’s right and I have been a bitch about it because I was upset that he didn’t… like me as much. And I wanted him to feel bad because I was so embarrassed, and I also didn’t want to act like everything was normal if he was just going to dump me, I…” you realize you’ve been hardcore rambling and your face heats. “I don’t know.”

There’s a pause, and you worry you’ve done exactly the thing you didn’t want to, which was overshare to this man who seems like he’s significantly more normal and well-adjusted than you. You drink deeply, swallowing sugar and the rest of your words. 

“That’s… bizarre. I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings, but… that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, projecting annoyance so you won’t start crying again. “I was confused too. I thought he really liked me.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m saying—that doesn’t make sense because he does really like you. Really, really likes you, more than I’ve ever seen him like someone before. I mean, last week I finally finished that Tesla biography he’s been on my ass about for months and when I told him, all he wanted to do was talk about your thoughts on it. And then it wasn’t even about the book anymore. I have never, ever seen Reid pass up an opportunity to talk about Nikola Tesla. I’m talking never in my life. He finds a way to make every conversation about you. I can’t even follow the connections sometimes but he always finds a way.”

Your nose wrinkles. 

“Sorry you’ve had to hear so much about me,” you mumble. Though you’re not really sorry. It feels good. A twinge of joy in all the murk. 

“I’m not. Like I said, I’ve known Spencer for a long time and I’ve never seen him this happy. I’m not about to let him fuck it up.”

“If I make him so happy then why did he tell me we don’t feel the same?” you whisper, reaching into the puddle of syrup and ice at the bottom of your now empty cup. 

“Is that exactly what he said?” Derek asks, after a long pause. You bite the maraschino cherry off the stem and nod morosely, grinding a long-gone stranger’s cigarette butt with your boot just to crush something. There’s another beat of silence. “Alright. You know what I think?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, your own wide-eyed and expectant. 

“I think you two need to have an honest conversation. You’re both confused and hurting—I promise Spencer is feeling it too. If you talk to him he won’t be unkind to you.”

“He already was,” you admit. 

“I apologize if I’m out of line here, but you just told me you’ve been icing him out all week because you want him to feel bad. I’m willing to bet you don’t realize how sharp these claws are.” Derek grabs your hand as he says it and you marvel at how much he is the opposite of you. Everything he does and says seems so natural and reasonable and charming even if it would piss you off from anyone else—and you just met the guy. You can see why Spencer and Penelope speak so highly of him. “I think you’ve probably both had your moments these past few days. But that doesn’t mean neither of you deserve any more chances.”

He puts your hand back on your knee and pats it. 

“Besides, Spencer‘s not good at mean. I bet he’s inside worrying himself sick over whatever dumb shit he said to you. He’s probably hyperventilating as we speak.”

“It was really out of character for him,” you concede. 

“Yeah. He’ll be apologizing for a long while. It will get annoying. But he sure as hell won’t be doing it again, I can tell you that much. If he does, let me know. Emily and I will whoop his ass and call it a fitness evaluation.”

“I think that’ll be unnecessary,” you laugh thickly, pulling your sleeve over your hand and wiping away the few tears that haven’t quite dried. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, it’s my birthday, and as a grown man I should not be getting involved in someone else’s relationship drama. I was supposed to be on the dance floor a while ago.” His tone is so warm and sugary by the time he finishes it could rot his perfect grin. It’s futile to hide the way your mouth twists into a reluctant smile as you look down and fix your hair—praying he can’t tell how fazed you are by his kindness. “You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“I’ll—yeah. Right,” you say quietly. But the sinking feeling in your stomach knows it’s a thing easier said than done. 

“Good,” Derek grunts, taking your empty cup before pushing himself back up to his feet and offering you a hand. “Do you want me to send him out here or do you want to come find him inside?”

You balk.

“Like—right now? I have to talk to him now?”

Before he can give you an answer you think you’d rather not have, the bar door is opening. From your spot you can’t see who it is right away, but Derek turns over his shoulder and does a double take before looking back at you. 

Spencer steps out onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning for until he realizes you’re a few feet shorter than usual. Sitting on a filthy public walkway is probably his worst nightmare, you realize, as you scramble to your feet and dust the crumbs of concrete from your palms against the back of your cold jeans. He begins to say your name, and it sounds like relief and regret, but you stop him. 

“I have to go wash my hands.”

It’s monotonous and mumbled and comes out too quickly but you don’t have time to worry about that as you brush past both of the men on your way back into the bar, making an immediate beeline for the bathroom. 

Your face burns with anxiety as you shut the door behind you, immediately drowning in the yellowish lighting which is so harsh but seems to illuminate almost nothing. Who paints a bathroom red? It’s suffocating. You feel like you’re inside an aorta. 

Water runs cool over your hands as you sniffle, rinsing the bits of dirt from red indents made by pebbles and things, and the soap is too floral and powdery but you wash twice anyway. Maybe you’ll just stay in here and wash your hands forever. 

There’s a light knock on the shiny wooden door and it makes you jump. Your name is muffled from the other side. 

“You in there?” 

Quickly you wipe under your reddened eyes in the mirror, trying to fix the slightly smudged makeup. 

The door opens when you don’t respond, and there’s Spencer, looking weary and tense all at once. Is that your fault?

“Hey,” you sniff, trying to effect casualness, but it comes out too quickly and your posture is too stiff. Under his all-seeing gaze you cross and uncross your arms, look at him and look away. Your hands end up in your pockets. He’d say crossed arms are a sign of self-soothing. 

“Hey.” His is more measured, and of course makes you feel embarrassed in comparison. The door swings shut behind him as he enters the small room and makes it feel that much smaller. “Are you… hiding from me in here?”

Yes. 

The graffitied toilet stalls to your left suddenly look fascinating. 

“Nope. Just washing my hands.”

This is not what Derek told you to do, you scold yourself internally. Stop being so scared. Be honest with him. 

Silence rings. All the brutally honest things you’d like to say choke you until your throat hurts and your eyes get hot. Yet again you feel like a stupid little girl who’s too emotional to communicate. 

You cross your arms. It’s an indulgence you feel you’re owed. 

Spencer says your name again and it’s too much. He never says it this often. When he does it feels good but now it’s too formal, makes you too aware of your own inadequacy, and how he must be seeing you—a wraith of a girl in a dingy bar bathroom with clammy hands and smudged eyeliner, practically shaking with fear under an unforgiving light. Someone who is too scared and much too sensitive. 

Spencer attempts to speak again. 

“What I said before, it was—”

“Can you just take me home?” 

It comes out on one exhalation and seems to stall him with all the effectiveness of a slap to the face. 

You don’t know where it comes from, either. 

Easier said than done, you’d thought a few moments ago. All the bravery Derek had tried to instill in you is gone, swallowed down the drain like soap scum. And now you’re choosing to let your fear win—because at least that’s a known quantity. The fear will never reject you. It will always be waiting with open arms. 

Too scared. 

The end feels imminent. You try to press yourself back together, fingernails biting into palms, trying to make something feel more tangible than the terrible knowingness that you’re careening toward an end which was supposed to be a beginning. It’s stifling and you wonder if Spencer is breathing it too. 

You can’t look at his face, but you watch him pocket his hands in his pants and there is so much impossible space between you in such a tiny room. 

“Yeah. I can.”

Something breaks. It’s small, and without fanfare. But it feels final. 

It’s just a ride home. Just a ride home. 

That’s all you have left, and you don’t know how you know it but you do. 

Something so important is being left in this stupid, dingy bathroom. Something that was at one point beautiful and shiny and so arrogant in its newness that it seemed it would never become ugly. And now you’re abandoning it without dignity on the chipped tile floor and in the cobwebs on the walls. It was bigger than you, it was you—and now it’s going to be nothing. 

A vehicle honks on the street. A boisterous group laugh explodes somewhere beyond the door. Water drips from a faucet. 

“I’ll… I’ll bring my car around.”

“Okay.”

But he just stands there for another moment. Like he can’t get himself to move. 

If only time would freeze before he could walk away. 

But it doesn’t. 

He sucks in a decisive breath. 

“Okay,” he murmurs. 

It’s that fucking phone call all over again. 

Then he spins on his heels and leaves you there.

Your time is up. 

[atyourmerci]

To think I’d know it all

Therapist!ellie (read pt.1 here)

X

CW: smut, MDNI, dom!ellie, sub!reader, power imbalance don’t fuck your therapist, talks of degradation, lots of praise, Ellie watches r! masturbate, thigh riding, no y/n, no pdor

A/N: this is for @catfern if she likes it I die happy. Sorry this took so long I got a little overzealous, yet still it feels rushed so I’m dropping this and disappearing! I promise I’ll be going back to working on reqs now.

X

You think you know yourself, your highs, desires, triggers, your inner most depravities. but you don’t. Maybe it wasn’t your fault- the bliss that came from blatant ignorance so bitter sweet on your tongue. So comfortable in your own escaped reality, why would you try to face it now?

Half of the time you were lying to Dr. Williams. A white lie here, slipping through the cracks of reality by omitting the truth there. It’s not like she couldn’t read you like a book- she knew everything. Things you had never thought of, mysteries to you, solved in seconds by her.

You never gave her much of your true issues, deadbeat mommy leaving you at six for her new boyfriend that could be your brother. Never feeling academically competent, body issues, all the bullshit troubles any girl could dream of beating herself down over.

Thats what you told yourself she knew, the surface, pretty, palpable, easy to swallow, desirable.

But Ellie didn’t want palpable, she craved the chaos of your destruction. She wanted to watch the rage play out, dangerously close to her integrity. She wanted to pull the dirty guts out to feast on. Every last piece of you, torn out, then you would be easy enough to swallow for her.

-

The air only grew thicker. Suffocating your windpipes to choke on, making sure you felt every particle of desperation.

The session after she had cancelled. You thought she’d keep this up, realizing she had taken it too far, falling into her desires you had coaxed her into.

But yet there you were, back in your usual seat, legs crossed, throat dry as it eats at the hot pressure in the air. The buzz of a ring in your ear as you sit there silently. To talk of it, to progress, to regress back into the unknown- the lies, the omissions.

Would she guide you- like she did last time? would she make you do it yourself, pathetic and begging, longing for the validation that she did it for herself, even if only for a little bit.

“How have you been?” A formality, a principle, a greeting. She had to say it- what would she say outside the four walls of this prison?

“Alright,” came out as an unwanted sigh, subconscious as your body tells the truth before you can cut it off at the source.

“No witty comeback? did something happen with the girl?” Ellie furrows her brows at your change of body language. She takes note of how closed off it is, not desiring of visitors. You watch as the veins in her muscles twitch in her tank. rid of the cover of her modest blazer, shoulders now under the impression of your gaze.

“I stopped seeing her, Im seeing an ex,” you didn’t have to say that, could have left it at the end of your farce of a hookup ending. But this time it wasn’t a lie, you truly were fucking that cunt.

“Oh. Anything serious?” Ellie tenses, eager to unpack the dichotomy of the new woman. Why did you start seeing your ex again, what was she tied to, what did you have to gain from anyone but her?

“Just sex.” you shrug off. This was the truth.

“What drove you back to her specifically?” Ellie goes to write it down but once again find herself unable to find the words- lost in the craving the understanding of your mind selfishly.

“Comfortability- is that what you want to hear?” you taunt her, driving your eyes into a squint. What was her motive- what was your own?

“Well something in particular brought you back to her, no?” she pries, not letting you take control of the conversation. If she had to drag it out of you herself she would.

“She knows how I like it,” your attempt at intimidation, confidence in your own pleasure. Nothing but another beautiful farce covered in thorns. A hint of a smirk paints the doctor’s lips, mean and tortured.

‘Oh you think you know yourself so well you beautiful fool’ Ellie thinks to herself. You wouldn’t know satisfaction if it hit you in the face, but she was to help you- that was her job right? “And what is it…that you like?” Shrinking her face into a scowl, head tilted to the side, watching how your body twitches at nothing. How pliable could she diminish you to without touching you- she couldn’t, of course.

“She gets rough with me,” so knowing, as if you were breed for it. A toy of sorts, helpless under the hands of a predator.

“What entails rough?” Ellie probes, getting her scalpel out, ready to dissect your oblivion. Her flesh scorching with fervor as she coaxes more out of you. She had found her vessel.

“I dunno… hitting, tying me up, stuff of that nature.”

“What else?” You’d never know how eager she was, calm in her disposition, from what the eye can make out. Inside she pulses, her mind eating away at itself. To bite is still to touch- Instinctual and destructive. A morbid curiosity to drown herself in, held at the bottom of your mind with the weights of her own scrutiny.

“You wanna know that she calls me a fuckin’ whore?”

“Why do you think you like the degradation?” Ellie shifts forward, getting to the edge of her seat, splaying her forearms onto her thighs. A pissing contest, cruel and depraved.

“Probably my godforsaken mother- what are you get-“ you begin to question before you’re interrupted.

“Good girl.” Ellie coos, shifting her weight back into the seat, her forearms resting on the armrests as her legs are lazily parted. A test she knew she’d win- she knew you best didn’t she? Playing you like a puppet, taking matters into her own hands, unethical as it may be.

So abrupt you’re taken out of a haze. An uncalculated whine coming out of your throat, you attempt to cover it with a halfass cough but the damage was done- you were caught. Ellie just watches as you squirm, skin growing hot as she watches you knowingly, smug and cunning as you tip toe the ledge. “w-what?”

Ellie’s grin only widens, “that was a fair assumption, aware… you’re doing so well already.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, fire blazing in your chest ready to burst into ashes laid out like puzzle pieces neatly for her. A new sensation, uncharted and dense. Immensely ridged to obtain- the feeling of worth, accomplishment at its peak. Would you ever be able to fulfill the demand?

Ignore it, lie, get out of it.

“I like getting when she treats me like shit- gets me off…” you attempt, eyes casted downwards to your sweaty palms soaked from the heat of the air.

“No you don’t.”

“How would you know,” you laugh her off. You’ve built your wall, so high that not even you could see over it.

“Sure you want to be told what to do. But you also want to be acknowledged for your work. How pretty you look opened up. How good you are for taking more, taken whats asked of you. Don’t you?” Ellie doesn’t skip a beat, like shes rehearsed it, dwelled on your inner most necessities. The doctor asks but you both know it’s not a question, rather an admission of verity.

“Doctor Williams, please-“ the impending doom of your fate- the tip of the iceberg chiseling down each second. A ticking time bomb sure to go off. Your body pulses, heart racing. How much more could you take?

“It’s okay…tell me whats wrong” Ellie coos doe eyed, so forgiving in a breeding ground for destruction. A flower blooming in the midst of a tornado. To talk, to proceed, to regress.

“I cant control myself- listening to you…like that,” fist turning white grappling onto the armrests, breath shaky and wavering. Your hips subconsciously rocking into the thick leather of the doctor’s chair- a taste of salvation at any cost.

“Be a good girl and show me the mess you made on my seat,” a reckless invitation- one with grave consequences. Nonetheless too sweet not to bite, sink her teeth into and rip the flesh.

Shameful, degrading enticement. Shaky hands grasping the button of your jeans. How much time did you have left? What if someone walks in? Both your jeans and panties come off in one fowl swoop- fallen to the warm carpet on her floor. You wince as the naked, seeping flesh of your cunt reaches the leather, “Fuck.”

Ellie just watches, amused, stone faced as she understands the specimen. The way you hips rut without you letting them says more than your words, “Give yourself what you need.”

Your body comes back into consciousness with the approval for more. Give her whats shes asked of you. Nimble fingers beginning to circle the swell of your clit- the reoccurring ache of disappointment- the fate of inadequacy.

“Atta girl- just like that. Does it feel good?” the doctor mutters so sweetly- so proud of her specimen. She knew you needed it- the approval, the praise of accomplishment.

Your breath shortens and you pulse around nothing. Driving aimless circles around the bud as your head cocks back. Your cunt begs of her, pleads to be full of her- if shed ever let you have it. “n-need you, please Ellie.”

The doctor had never heard you speak of her name. Too casual for barriers, too comfortable for the tension. Something in her own mind switches at the words- the way they rolled off your tongue like you had said it many times before. Where had you said it, to whom? If not anyone at all. “I cant help you…but I cant stop you from helping yourself.”

Lust was a sin, but gluttony was a mere punishment. Overzealous in nature, depraved and lawless in practice. A reckless invitation- one with grave consequences. A walk of shame, magnets finding their match. She had made your bed, you were to lie in it.

Ellies hands on her armrest, sure to not budge- to uphold her ethics, principles responsible of her own will. She lets you climb her body, mount yourself up top her lap, positioning your cunt on her thigh.

The air. Thick, all consuming- so close, breathing her air, the breath of someone wiser, more understanding of your own mind. What a dangerous game, everything you need right there, yet taboo to drain every last bit of her. An inch given, a mile lacking. She keeps her eyes trained on you, her subject in testing.

“It’s okay, fuck yourself on me. You’ve been so good.” letting your cunt rake up and down the scratchy fabric of her slacks, hands pinned behind your back on your own accord.

The bubble in your stomach already ready to overflow, choking back whimpers drown in by your teeth. She made it so easy- she didn’t even have to fucking touch you.

“Let go. Let yourself come,” the doctor demands, she knew what you were doing. Ellie didn’t care how pathetic it was.

“I can-t not, not yet,” sweat dripping down your flustered face as your sticky white slick coats her covered thigh. The sight was so vulgar in Ellie’s eyes, watching you panting as you fuck yourself on her thigh. Thoughts of what she’d do in another world without laws.

“Do what you’re told.”

[luveline]

how’re eddie and roan doing??🫶🏻

(step)mom!reader, 2k

Sometimes you know you’re not good enough for Eddie and his daughter.

It’s a pinprick pain in the same place. The tiniest fear turned to heat.

“I’m gonna get you!” he warns.

“No, you’re not!” Roan stands at the other side of the room. With the door at her father’s back, she has no proof to substantiate her claim, but she makes it anyway. “You’re slow!”

You sit on the end of the bed with one leg hanging off, a socked foot brushing the carpet. Your legs are aching and the bottom of your spine feels bruised, so you aren’t joining in tonight. You watch them glare and giggle at one another.

Your head hurts between your eyes.

Eddie makes a ‘scary’ face and runs across the room to grab her. She squeals in terrified delight and races for the bed, climbing up behind you and over it, swapping places with him easily, or so she thinks. She’s slower than he is, and can’t escape his grabbing hands as he leaps for her on your bed, flattening your stepdaughter into a pancake.

“No, no,” she laughs beneath him.

Eddie braces his arms either side of her. “I told you’d I’d get you,” he says in a menacing voice, like a character from a movie, he can do a hundred different impressions. “You’ve stolen your last Twinkie, child. Be prepared for retribution.”

“I hate retribution!” she shouts.

Eddie laughs like a kid. “You’ll have to learn to love it.”

He grabs the end of her shirt, tugs it up, and drops his face into her stomach to grow the world's most aggressive raspberry. Roan screams the house down, laughing and shrieking as the vibrations tickle her skin. Eddie takes another big breath, lets it out against her bellybutton, even as Roan’s knees come up and jab him in the arm. “Dad, oh my gosh, stop!”

He stops. “You surrender?”

“No.” A third huge raspberry gets pressed into her tummy.

“Give up,” he sing-songs, “you know you can’t defeat me, little Munson.”

“Y/N, please help me,” Roan says, half crawling under Eddie’s weight to grab your arm. “Please save me.”

Your smile is two shades off, but she doesn’t notice, and you wouldn’t want her to. “I can’t, princess, only a knight can save you now.”

Eddie blows a raspberry on her tummy, then her neck. She hates that even more than the tummy ones and flings herself out of his arms with breathless laughter, the urgency of knowing you’re going to be killed by such horrible, painful, excruciating affection. “You,” she says, taking deep breaths as she slinks down onto the floor, “are the worse dad. Ever.” She laughs like taffy. “I’m listening to my body and it says I need some soda.”

“You can have a capri sun,” Eddie says firmly.

She rushes away, runs down the stairs, and it’s all Eddie can do to constrain his usual warning, you can tell. “She’s gonna fall down them,” he says, batting the hair out of his eyes, “and then what will I do?”

You smile weakly. “I don’t know, teddy. Guess we’d have to roll her around in a wheelbarrow for a bit.”

He clambers onto his knees beside you. A spiral curl falls into his eyes. Everybody’s pretty when they smile but Eddie’s a heartbreak when he’s upset, when the corner of his mouth twitches wanting to pull down and his eyes lose their mirth. “Hey, what’s wrong?” With a little more pep, “Are you tired? Hungry?”

“Sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, so I won’t accept it.” His hand hesitates by your leg. “What’s not okay?”

You shake your head, not wanting to look at him anymore. He’s prettier than you are, with a better heart. He’s a great father and you’re a shitty mom. You have less practice than he has, sure, but you can’t do anything right for Roan lately, you mess up her lunch and forget to buy her yoghurts when you’re coming home even though Eddie called you twice to make sure you got them. He didn’t even get mad. If he asks you one more time what’s wrong, you’re gonna burst into tears.

He doesn’t ask.

Eddie wraps an arm heavily over the back of your shoulders and neck. The other vys for your hand in your lap, his knuckles brushing against your thigh. “You’re not feeling up to it, is that what it is? Maybe you’re tired,” he suggests, with all his usual tenderness. You’re struck with a memory of him when you’d first started dating, how awkward he could be and how he’d shoved it aside when you had one of your worst days at work. He’d surprised you outside, Roan waiting in his backseat, promising to take you home and make you a home cooked meal. You’d eaten it under his arm like this.

There were moments before you’d been his girlfriend where you worried he wasn’t gonna let you have him. That he wasn’t gonna want you, that you’d move on from each other and have to pretend it never happened. But he’s whispering in your ear, hand latched onto your arm and rubbing circles into the tired muscle there without thought. “You can tell me anything,” he’s saying, “you know you can, just tell me what’s bothering you, don’t like it when you’re quiet…”

“Just had a bad day,” you say, tight and squeezed, so clearly evident that you’re gonna cry.

“At work?”

“All day.”

“Why? What’s bad?” he asks.

Nothing, you think, nothing’s bad, nothing is different than usual, but you feel awful. Like your hearts trying to invert itself in your chest, an upset with notes of panic.

“You know what I think it is?” he asks when you don’t answer, his demeanour dipping further and further into tenderness. “I think you didn’t eat enough at dinner, and you didn’t get enough sleep last night, and now you could use a shower and a hug and maybe a little time to yourself. When was the last time you had an hour for you?”

Your eyes crinkle tightly, your mouth twists. You get that weird rush of tingles all over your face and the heat of collecting tears. “It’s not like that,” you insist. “I love you, I don’t want time away from you, I swear.”

“I don’t want time away from you.” He kisses your cheek, twice, a third time, each one with more pressure than the kiss before. “I just mean… I don’t know, baby, I just thought you might be dealing with a lot.”

The worst thing bursts out of you, because you need him to tell you it’s not true. “I’m such a bad mom.”

The crying is unfortunate and immediate, your shoulders seizing under his arm. Eddie could tell it was coming, you’re sure, he doesn’t baulk, he never does.

“You’re not a bad mom, you’re a great mom,” he says, followed by a great wave of shushing.

“I’m awful, I’m supposed to be so much better, I can’t even remember her snacks.”

“Snacks are a really huge part of being a mom,” he says, “but she doesn’t care. She forgave you the moment you said sorry. You think she cares about her yoghurts? That’s not why she sits there waiting everyday after school, is it?”

“You asked me to get them and I forgot.”

“Well, should we call the cops now or later?”

“Eddie.”

He ushers your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry, but you haven’t done anything that would make you a bad mom.”

You’re not Roan’s natural mother, you didn’t carry her, and so you find yourself in a privileged position. She treats you as she would a mom, she calls you mommy every day. You’re still letting her down.

“I love you, and Ro, and I wouldn’t be with someone who doesn’t love her, but you know… you really– you give more effort than we ever asked you to. You’re amazing. I never could have imagined getting to be with someone I love, and who loves my girl like she’s their own.” His murmuring takes the wryness of someone who knows what they’re saying is immeasurably corny, and he doesn’t stop. “She doesn’t know how lucky she is, but I do.”

“She deserves more.”

“She deserves you. You love her.”

You scrub your face, hiding from him behind your fingers. He waits in the quiet, now rubbing your back in large passes of his hand.

“Is that the only thing that’s making you like this?”

“I just feel like… everything I do, I could do better. Everything. And lately I feel so ugly. I thought this stuff would go away,” you confess, letting your hands fall away.

“I don’t think worrying ever goes away. Everybody worries about something.”

He ushers you back, the arm that warmed your shoulders dropping, his hand reaching instead for your face. He thumbs at tearstains and your damp top lip. “Please don’t cry,” he says, “you’re not ugly, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. You’re killer, you always have been, but it’s my fault you don’t know that. I don’t tell you enough.”

He must tell you everyday, some days he tells you ten times or more. Still, it’s nice to have him say it, to place the blame of your insecurities on him, to try and make it his problem and not yours. It’s extremely loving, if extremely untrue.

“Sorry, Eddie. I think you’re right. Think I need to sleep, and, I don’t know. Stop feeling sorry for myself.” You smile weakly.

“I don’t think that’s what it is. If you need me to tell you what I think about you to feel better, I’ll do it every hour of the day.” He beams at you. “I hate when you cry.”

You huff a laugh. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”

“No– No, I don’t mean it like that. Don’t make me an asshole. I’m happy to see you smile again.”

“You give a good pep talk.”

“Can I give you a kiss now, is that alright?”

“If you stop being so nice after.”

Eddie turns his face and kisses you soundly. His hand climbs to your neck, his index finger draws a short, light line up your throat as his lips move against yours, and curls into itself as he pulled away to stroke gently under your chin. Then he gives you a shove, forcing you to lay down.

“Cheer up, dummy. You’re a great mom and you’re gonna be the best wife. Chill out.”

You catch one of his mean hands to hold to your tummy.

He sits there with you for ages. Five minutes turns to ten, then ten to fifteen, nothing else said, but his hand unmoving where you’ve put it.

“Ro!” he calls eventually. “Where’d you go, bub? Are you okay?”

Her mouth is obviously full when she calls back, “I’m okay!”

“That rascal is eating my Twinkies,” he says.

“Go stop her,” you say, pinching his fingers between yours playfully, softly, one at a time.

“We’re having time to ourselves.”

“I don’t need time away from her.”

“I know. But you need time to lay down without somebody bugging you to play, or watch her do a handstand. She’ll come back as soon as she’s hid the evidence, anyways.” He rolls his eyes. “Like I won’t notice.”

You crawl towards him and curl around him, locking him in place. “Thank you for looking after me.”

“It’s literally my favourite thing to do.”

Your front to his back where he’s sitting, your face against the back of his hip, you kiss his t-shirt. He makes a soft sound, breathing out, his hands covering your arm where you’ve hooked him at the waist.

—

more eddie, roan and reader

[inkdrinkerworld]

hello!! could you write about spencer catching sunshine reader during a sad time? like perhaps reader has very rarely shown spencer what she gets like when shes sad, so when he catches her, she is stubborn at first and doesn't want to open up, but eventually eases into it? thank you :))

Cw: mentions of parents venting to their kids, being sad

Wc: 1.4k

You’re not sure what you'd done to deserve a day like today exactly, only that you’d woken up and from the very first moment you’d had a hard time of it.

Your planned outfit had a stain, you forgot to make extra dinner to have for lunch, you cut your ankle shaving and then your mom called.

Calls with her have a habit of being fifty fifty. It can either be a good call, or it can be a call where she uses you as a sounding board for all her negative thoughts, worries and despite the many times you’ve told her to stop, she hasn’t.

It’s safe to say by the time you walk into work you don’t even have the energy to smile- you’re using it all not to cry.

Not even your back up outfit is working it's magic- a green top with brown pants, your favourite outfit to feel like a hobbit.

Emily calls you into the round table room as soon as you walk in, giving you a little more reason to avoid Spencer’s curious gaze.

Spencer doesn’t really take into account just how bad your mood is till you volunteer to stay in Quantico with Penelope rather than go out in the field.

“Y/n?” He touches your elbow gently as the rest of the team go for their bags. It’s just you and him in the round table room and your hands shake from holding back tears.

Spencer hasn’t ever seen you this upset, sure during a case you’re mad at the things you guys read and uncover, but this is a different type of upset and Spencer doesn’t really know what to do with it.

He just knows he wants to make it better.

“Yeah Spence?” You try to keep your voice even, knowing he’ll only worry more and the case needs his worry more than you do.

“What’s going on? You haven’t looked up at me once and you keep scrunching your nose. You also haven’t smiled since you got here.” He’s a profiler to his core, but this is just you and him, of course he’d notice everything.

You shrug, scrunching your nose again. “The case isn’t exactly something to be happy about, is it?”

Spencer knows what you’re trying to do, but you don’t get the tone right for anger- you just sound defeated.

“Either way, you and Penelope have a knack for smiling through it and you haven’t even tried once.” Ever soft, ever tender are the words that escape him.

He bends his knees a little, chasing your eyes. “What is it?” Spencer’s thumb strokes the inside of your wrist, wanting nothing more than to help.

“Spencer, can we talk about it when the case is over?” You can feel the pressure of the tears behind your eyes and you don’t want to cry here.

Not where anyone can see.

You’d much rather do it at home, where you can curl up under your blanket and sob until you lose your voice.

“Alright, but we will talk; yeah?” You nod and Spencer squeezes your forearm, a firm and soothing pressure on your skin.

The case takes a day and a half to wrap up, and you’re barely holding it together- Penelope lent you her favourite unicorn desk pal for the entire case and also her fluffy pen.

“I’m sorry, babe. You’ll feel better once this is over and you can have a good cry.” She says, your head on her shoulder as you wait for your team to come back.

You nod, “How badly do you think Spencer will react if I start crying now?” Your throat is tight with emotion- honestly you’re not sure if it’s just from your previous day or also the exhaustion of working into the next evening.

“Oh, pretty bad,” she says and you chuckle, a few tears rolling freely down your face. “But I think he’ll be more worried.”

Before you can say anything, there’s a knock on Penelope’s door and you already know who it is- only Spencer knocks. You wipe away the tears hoping that will be enough to hide them from Spencer- it likely won’t be.

“See you tomorrow Pen,” you say, gathering your things and opening the door.

Spencer looks more tired than you expected and you have to assume you don’t look so rested either.

“You’re back,” he nods, taking your satchel bag from you and reaching for your hand.

“What’s wrong?” He murmurs, leading you to a secluded spot in the hall. Spencer doesn’t say it, but your eyes bare all your emotions even if your face is neutral. They’re red and they’ve got a sad look about them, just completely and utterly exhausted. Spencer wants to help any way he can.

You debate how you should start, if you should just tell him about your bad day from beginning to end or if you should just tell him about your weird relationship with your mother and let him fill in the blanks from there.

You decide it wouldn’t be fair to Spencer because he never had you guessing when he’s sharing things so you won’t do it to him.

“Um,” you can already feel the pressure building behind your eyes again. “Yesterday was off to a terrible start, nothing was going quite right from the moment my feet hit the floor.”

Spencer nods, listening quietly as you wring your hands tightly. He takes them easily, holding them in his own and stroking the skin on the back of your hand.

“Then my mom called which could really go either way, and I had to listen to her complain about my dad and every other thing in her life and it gives me a lot of anxiety hearing some of the things and she just wouldn’t stop.”

Your tears are rolling freely now and Spencer pulls you to his chest, fear of germs be damned.

He quiets his own feelings about you crying and about the way you sound recounting your day.

“She just says these things like I’m supposed to be the one to fix them and I can’t and she’s mad that I can’t and it just messes with me sometimes.”

Spencer can deduce what you’re too kind to say- it isn’t your fault or your problem and you shouldn’t be made to feel like it’s your responsibility to make it right.

Your hands shake against Spencer’s back and he sighs, squeezing you just a bit tighter.

“I’m sorry,” his hands coast up and down your back, massaging at the nape of your neck when he reaches there. “I’m sorry she puts it on you, and I know that you’re aware it isn’t your problem to solve but you can’t help that either. Maybe over time she’ll come to realise that you can’t solve all of the things she tells you.”

You nod, trying to stop hiccuping against him. “M’sorry about your shirt Spence.” He laughs, nose in your hair as he holds you.

“It’s okay,” you sniffle harshly trying to clear your sinus. “Want to come over and watch Lord of The Rings?” This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been there- you’ve spent nights there after drinks with the team and movie nights just the two of you.

All the same it’s a shocking proposal from Spencer right after a case, you know he likes to decompress in his own way.

You gasp, leaning back from his arms a little. It’s hard to miss the care displayed so clearly in his gaze. It’s harder to fight the urge to kiss him. “The extended versions?” Spencer notes that you’ve a little more spark in your tone, a little more life in your eyes.

“Yeah, I think we can make it through the entire trilogy if we hurry.” There’s a grin on his lips as he says it.

“Spencer, don’t play with me here. We’re talking serious business.” He laughs, hiking your bag higher on his shoulder as he watches you wipe your tears.

“I’m not playing. Is your go-bag full or do you want to stop by your place on the way to mine?” He hopes secretly that you don’t have your own sleep clothes, it’s a selfish want to see you in one of his shirts or even a cardigan.

“I have clothes, we can go straight there. And you’re driving, you have all the maps in your head with the shortest routes.”

Spencer nods, like he was ever going to make you drive. “Plus you’re a hazard on the road, absolute chaos behind a wheel.”

Spencer feels his chest lighten when your laugh explodes from you, loud and so like yourself as you wait for the elevator to open.

[gloomwitchwrites]

They overhear you telling the team how much you like them and want to have their babies.

ANON! The way I screamed when I first read this prompt. I love shit like this because o-m-g. I had so much fun writing our boys in this scenario. Thank you so much for sending it in!

While there are some sweeter moments, these all lean toward the steamy side but don't cross over fully into spice. But, each is left open enough that you can make up your own mind about what happens! (hehe).

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): mild language, suggestive themes, pregnancy, fluff, feelings

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish (wc: 651)

John is grinning like a bloody idiot. Has been for the last few days.

He’s caught your attention, and he’s downright smug about it. Every lingering glance and gentle upturn of your mouth has his skin singing with an intensity that can only be described as a tree burning from the inside out. He’s been after you for months, doing his best to gauge your interest in him.

He thinks he has an in because just yesterday, you touched him. Not a passing touch either but a firm grasp of his upper arm. A squeeze that shot heat straight to his toes and sent blood rushing quickly to an already throbbing need.

You looked him in the eye, brow all soft, mouth puckered slightly in the most gorgeous pout. John wanted to kiss you right then.

He turns the corner, heading into the training room, only to stop dead when he hears your voice. Pausing, he backtracks, pressing himself against the wall but leaning around the corner to listen in.

“Johnny’s been sweet on you,” comes Ghost’s voice. It’s slightly teasing, and John frowns slightly. Ghost would never overstep and steal you out from under him, but he would give him or even you a hard time.

“Has he?” you reply, and it’s breathy.

At this rate, his cheeks are gonna hurt for a week from how stupidly big his grin is.

“Don’t tell us you haven’t noticed,” laughs Gaz. “Soap’s been drooling all over the floor and himself.”

You remain silent, and John would give anything to know what you look like right now or what you’re thinking.

“Do you like him?” asks Ghost.

“What?” you exclaim.

“We won’t tell. Unless you want us to,” continues Gaz. “We can tell him to back off if—”

“No. I—” There is a stretch of silence. “I like him.”

When neither Gaz nor Ghost say anything, you keep talking. “I like him. I’m interested.”

“How interested?” asks Ghost, slowly.

“I’d have his babies if he asked,” you blurt so suddenly that it even takes John by surprise.

His grin momentarily slips away, and then it comes back, raging larger than before. He is going to bottle up those words and savor them. John runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on the tips slightly as he comes to a decision.

Pushing off from the wall, he barrels around the corner, making enough noise to not startle anyone. You and Gaz both jump but Ghost remains utterly still, a passive brick of a man. But his dark eyes swivel from you to John, and he sees Ghost’s amusement behind the balaclava.

John approaches you, and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep his grin from seeming too eager. “Price is looking for you.”

“Oh,” is all you say, moving in the direction John just emerged from. He waits until you pass him to start following, but before he can, he catches Gaz’s grin and Ghost’s gentle shake of his head.

When the two of you disappear around the corner, John reaches out, grabbing your arm. He tugs you against him, then shoves open a nearby door, hauling you inside.

“Johnny,” you protest as he shuts the two of you inside.

Leaning against the door, John crosses his arms over his chest. “Heard what you said.”

“Did you?” you counter, placing your hands on your hips.

“Aye.”

“And what did I say?”

“That you wanted to have my babies.” Your face heats and John has to bite back a groan. He surges forward, trapping you against the wall. “Is that the truth? Do you want me?”

You soften in his arms, and he cannot help himself. His arms snake around your middle only to lift you onto a nearby table.

“I want you,” you whisper.

John dips his head and you greet him with your mouth. “Then let’s get to it, love.”

John Price (wc: 420)

Price reclines in his office chair.

His mind is a mess. All thoughts of work are utterly gone. Finished. The only thing in his head is you and what you said this morning. The thing is, you don’t know that Price heard every word, that he listened as you confessed your feelings for him to the rest of the team.

Price is your superior, which means anything between the two of you cannot happen. At least, not while you’re under his command. The rest of the team said as much, and you reluctantly agreed, knowing that nothing could be done unless you or he moved out of the unit.

And Price won’t leave. Not because he wouldn’t do it for you, but because Laswell would have his head if he tried.

But the two of you can still talk. The two of you can still figure something out.

Yet it wasn’t just your interest in him that has Price’s head in knots. It’s what you said, almost absently, like you were speaking to the air and not the rest of the team.

I’d have his babies.

Fuck, he was gone when he heard that. Price walked away immediately and went to his office. Which is where he’s been the entire fucking day. When his phone rings, he refuses to answer. Everyone who has come knocking leaves when Price ignores them. He just needs to get his head on straight but he can only do that once he talks to you first.

Sighing, Price leans forward in his chair, resting his forearms on the table. A knock comes, and everything in him tenses.

He swallows. Turns his nerves to steel. "Come in."

When you enter, Price loses all thought. It isn't until the silence becomes awkward that Price clears his throat and stands. "Shut the door."

You do and then take a few more steps inside. Price isn't one for stepping around a conversation. He just needs to get this shit off his chest.

"Heard what you said this morning."

"You did?"

"I did."

You take a shaky breath. "And?"

"Did you mean it?"

'Every word," you say automatically.

Fuck. He's done for.

Price slowly sinks into his chair. He leans back casually, legs spread. Resting both hands on his thighs, Price runs them up and then back down. He taps the inside of one thigh in open invitation.

Your legs obediently move, and Price's chest tightens. As you straddle him, Price's hands come to rest on your waist.

"Show me."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (wc: 309)

Kyle heard you wrong. He must have.

The words that just came out of your mouth simply aren’t true.

I want to have his babies.

He shakes his head, the middle of his brow furrowing slightly as he continues to listen. He hears Soap guffaw at your reply and then swear up a storm when you smack the back of his head.

“It’s not funny,” you snap.

“Oh, aye. But it is.”

“Cut her some slack, Johnny,” says Ghost teasingly. “Sergeant Garrick is a handsome man.”

You sigh in frustration. “You’re both terrible. I can’t tell you anything.”

“You just did.”

“Oh shove it, Soap,” you reply.

Kyle covers his mouth with his hand, smothering a laugh. You’ve always been feisty, and you don’t take shit from anyone, especially not from them. But this admission completely catches him off-guard.

He’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t interested. What first began as mutual respect grew into genuine friendship. Now it’s…this. Whatever this is.

But Kyle is a private person, and he’s not going to shove himself into this conversation. He’ll wait until you’re alone and the two of you can talk this out without an audience. From there, he will have the truth directly from your mouth.

And if he's being honest with himself, Kyle is fucking ace to the idea of you giving him a kid or two. Or three.

His mind swirls outward with images of what he’d do to put a baby inside you. Everything in him ramps up, burns hot until he’s aching.

“Sergeant.”

Kyle’s eyes snap open, and he momentarily sways as he rights himself.

“Captain,” he replies, clearing his throat.

Captain Price smirks and then squeezes his shoulder. “Must have been a hell of a daydream.” Price releases Kyle’s shoulder and continues on.

Privacy. Privacy with you.

That’s what Kyle needs.

Simon "Ghost" Riley (wc: 375)

Ghost is a patient man.

But right now, there is a fire beneath his skin.

It itches, radiating outward, even making his bones ache. This is not a wound. Not an injury. He didn’t take a hit. There is nothing physically wrong with him. Ghost is healthy. A solid brick wall of muscle and scars.

This impatient insistence comes from a carnal place. All the blood is rushing to a singular point, and Ghost is going fucking insane with how badly he needs to relieve it. The worst part about it is that you don’t even know. You have no idea what you’ve done, or what he heard.

I’d have his babies.

Ghost is entirely aware that the conversation you had with Soap and Gaz was private. He wasn’t meant to hear it. But he did. He did, and now he can’t stop thinking about all the things you said to them.

Which is why he’s lurking in the shadows, watching your every step, assessing when he should slide on up to you. Ghost needs you alone. He needs to talk but he also needs you in his lap.

So, when you turn the corner, Ghost slips into his namesake, grabbing you by the waist to haul you through the nearest door. Instinct kicks in, and you lash out, but Ghost is so much bigger than you, easily restraining all resistance.

"Stop moving."

"Simon."

His real name on your tongue is perfect. Pressing his face into your neck, he inhales, and you melt into him.

"What are you doing?" you ask softly.

"I heard the conversation you had with Johnny and Gaz today."

"Did you?"

"Is it true?"

Your face shifts slightly in his direction and Ghost draws back a bit. "Yes."

"Mean it?"

"Yes."

Slowly, Ghost removes his arms from around your waist. He gently guides you forward and then spins you around so that you're fully facing him. There is silence and then Ghost reaches for the front of his belt buckle. Your gaze immediately drops and then pops back up as undoes and then removes the belt with one hand.

"Willing to show me?" he asks.

Your lips part, and then you're touching him.

The fire beneath his skin becomes an inferno.

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[theyluvkarolina]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐒

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` who is that girl? ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃?: Yes!

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Secrets are amazing between two people. But people can’t help but wonder who that girl is with Lance, and why she randomly shows up every so often. Well, maybe it’s time for this secret is to be shared.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Lance Stroll x Military!Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ mentions of the military, online hate (Hate and Lance are a package deal) but nothing serious. Also, the time frame is 2023 but photos may not be accurate!

𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ i have little to no knowledge of the military so i tried my best! I decided to make Y/N one of the 1,200 Canadian troops deployed to Latvia. Lots and lots of love to you all 🩷 I did some research and found mixed responses about text messaging while in the military but for the sake of the fic, we will make it able to text friends, family and be on socials! Not my longest fic, but definitely one of my favorites.

Twitter

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lance_stroll ✔︎

liked by astonmartin, y/n_l/n, fernandoalo_offical and others

lance_stroll not a bad race day! glad to have some support despite the time difference 😊

2,310 comments

username1 THERE SHE IS AGAIN

username2 lancey strolly has a secret… and it’s not about him being on top

→ username3 being on top?? 😏 → username2 enough.

username4 no bc the way she comes on his socials and then just leaves again??

→ username5 maybe they are a on and off couple 🤷 → username6 no bc it’s soooo fishy?? → username7 i wouldn’t be surprised if she’s using lance for his money like all the other wags are → username8 or… or just maybe… she has a job and her life doesn’t revolve around her boyfriend 😱 😱 → username9 @ username7 bold of you to assume that they go after money as if the drivers don’t go after looks 💀

username10 does literally ANYONE know who in the world this girl is?? she’s been with lance since he started but then he posts her like a couple times a year and we never seen her in the paddock

→ username11 managed to find a old photo lance and some girl when lance first joined williams and lance had he tagged! apparently, her name is Y/N L/N but because he account is private, we don’t know much else about this maybe being the same girl. → username12 im sorry you are just sound STALKERISH. if i was his gf like y/n rn, i wouldn’t wanna show my accounts or who i am either.

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lance_stroll ✔︎

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lance_stroll the real prize of montreal this year 🏆 My girlfriend definitely gave me the support i needed this weekend after our time spent apart. For everyone wondering, this is my amazing girlfriend Y/N who does the unthinkable. The reason why you barely see us together is because Y/N works as a engineer in the military. I always miss her, but her support means the world to me (whether it be online calls or seeing her for such a short amount of time 😅) and I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for her support and belief in me since we were kids. Love you, and i cannot wait for the big day 🩷

3,495 comments

username13 OKAY LANCE “HARD LAUNCH” STROLL

username14 SHES A MILITARY GIRL

→ username15 no bc a being in the military and being a engineer is so badass?? → y/n_l/n stop im blushing so hard rn 🥹🥹

username16 i love how everyone is ignoring that lance just announced they are getting married in such a subtle way.

fernandoalo_official such a nice couple 😊 can’t wait for the wedding!

→ username17 WEDDING??? → username18 WTF DO YOU MEAN WEDDING??

landonorris ✔︎ FERNANDO KNOWS BUT THE REST OF US DON’T???

→ estebanocon ✔︎ we feel betrayed over here 😞 → mickshumacher ✔︎ very hurt. → lance_stroll ✔︎ whoops..? → landonorris ✔︎ DONT YOU “whoops” US YOUNG MAN??? → lance_stroll ✔︎ i’m literally a year older than you??? → landonorris ✔︎ you get what i mean.

y/n_l/n AHHHHH LANCEY STROLLEY :((

→ username19 LANCEY STROLLEY WILL MAKE HIS WAY ON TOP!!

y/n_l/n sir lancelot 💔 🥹

y/n_l/n i’m so happy rn you don’t get it 🩷 it sucks how different our lives are because of our jobs but i’m so glad i have you 🫶

Liked by lance_stroll!

→ lance_stroll ✔︎ right back at you 🫶 → username20 what if i started crying rn.

username21 THE GF REVEAL!!!

→ lance_stroll ✔︎ *fiance now :)

username22 she served. literally.

username23 the way her being on and off rn makes so much more sense…

username24 okay… they are pretty cute..

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: “Hi girl. This just randomly popped in my head so I’ve decided to ask if you can write it since I love your works.Lance x military fiance, no one knows their together expect his father and he just randomly soft launches every now and again when she’s home and it always catches people off guard. Anyways she’s been gone for like a year or two and she’s finally getting to come home for a while so she decided to surprise him at his home race and a video gets leaked or sm and then he hard launches. This could be a mix of smau and real life if you want. Thanks. I can't wait to read the charles x ballerina fic your writing. Your fics never disappoint 🫶” - Anon

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

heyy, could you write smt about Bucky worshipping readers boobs.

cuz shes insecure about the way they look, not the size but I hope you get what I mean

<3

Love Them » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: You feel insecure about your breasts and Bucky tells you how much he loves them.

Warnings: mix of Fluff and implied Smut (18+), language, Bucky being a boob man, kissing, hickeys, hickeys, praise kink, worshipping, use of pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at yourself. Looking at your breasts to be exact. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something about your breasts felt off to you for some reason. It’s not the size of them. It’s more of an insecurity. You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the door to yours and Bucky’s apartment open and close.

“Doll, I’m home!” Bucky’s voice echoed through the apartment.

Bucky frowned when you didn’t greet him at the door like you normally do. He took his jacket off, tossing it onto the couch before going to yours and his bedroom to look for you.

“Babydoll, you home?” He asks.

Bucky’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You blinked a couple times before putting on one of Bucky’s t-shirts and walked out of the bathroom.

“There you are.” A smile grew on his face as he pecked your lips softly. “What were you doing in the bathroom?” Bucky asks.

“I just got out of the shower.” You say.

Bucky could tell something was off by the tone of your voice.

“You ok? Did something happen while I was at work?” He asks.

“Nothing happened. It’s just-” You paused for a second before continuing your sentence. “I feel insecure about… my boobs.” You say the last part quietly, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Bucky sighs, knowing you struggle with insecurities sometimes. He gently took your hand in his, leading you to the bed. He sat down on the end of the bed and pulled you down onto his lap.

“Take your shirt off.” He says softly.

You took your -his- shirt off, dropping it on the floor.

“Do you see what I see?” Bucky asks, resting his chin on your shoulder, his stubble poking your skin.

“No.” You say quietly, loud enough for him to hear.

“I see the most beautiful pair of boobs I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” His hands slid up your sides, stopping underneath your breasts. “I fucking love them.” He says, his thumbs gently rubbing under your breasts.

His hands cupped your breasts. You shivered when his cold vibranium hand came in contact with your skin.

“Hopefully, one day these will be filled with milk when we have babies.” He gently massages them. “Don’t you want that, doll?” He asks, kissing along your shoulder to the side of your neck.

You tilted your head to the side, giving him more access. You completely forgot what you were going to say. Your eyes fluttered shut, loving the feeling of his lips on your neck and his beard scratching your skin. You were snapped out of your thoughts when Bucky spoke up.

“Please tell me that’s what you want.” He says against your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin.

“Yes!” You gasped when he bit down on your neck, hard enough for a hickey. “I want to have all of your babies!” You moaned.

Bucky pulled away from your neck and maneuvered you so you were facing him and straddling him. He wrapped his vibranium arm around your waist and pulled your body against his. He immediately latched his lips on the swells of your breasts, his teeth marking them up. Bucky’s lips slowly made their way to one of your nipples, latching his lips on it. His tongue swirled around the small bud while his right hand was occupied with your left breast. Your hands found their way to his hair, your fingers running through the short locks of his hair and tugged at it, making him moan against your breast at the feeling. His lips lightly sucked on your nipple, making you gasp and arch your back, sending a tingling sensation through your body.

“Your boobs are amazing, babydoll.” Bucky says softly.

Bucky took his time, worshipping both of your breasts. You arched your back, pressing your breasts in his face. Bucky was loving every second of it. You moaned, loving the feeling of his beard scratching the skin of your breasts. He moved his lips to your other breast, repeating his actions.

“Imagine it, doll…” Bucky starts. “Your belly round with my babies while your beautiful breasts are filled with milk to fed our babies.” He says softly.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander and you got to thinking. What Bucky saying is true and it made you feel good.

“Bucky…” You breathed, your eyes fluttering shut.

“Everything about you is absolutely beautiful.” He compliments. “I love everything about you from head to toe, especially these beautiful tits.” He says.

“Oh fuck…” You say more in a whine.

Bucky slowly kissed his way up to your lips. Starting at your breasts, along your chest, your collarbones, your shoulders, your jawline, your cheeks. Finally his lips got to their destination, your lips. The kiss was so passionate that it took your breath away. You held one of your hands against the back of his head to intensify the kiss. You guys moaned against each other’s lips before pulling away, looking deep in each other’s eyes breathlessly.

“I love you so fucking much, doll.” Bucky says, kissing you again.

“I love you too, Bucky.” You say against his lips.

“I love your tits too.” He says, giving them more love.

You couldn’t help but giggle when he said that. You felt Bucky smile against your breasts before looking at you.

“You’re absolutely beautiful, you know that?” He says softly.

“Mhmm.” You hummed. “Thank you for helping me get over my insecurity.” You say with a smile, running your fingers through his hair.

“Anytime, babydoll.” Bucky says, smiling.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[moonstruckme]

For have a bonfire 🌺

James Potter + angst (comfort at the end) + reader who keeps up this perfectionist persona but James accidentally sees them break down :(

(I'm in dire need of comfort angst it's actually not even funny anymore)

Thanks for requesting!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

James doesn’t know what he’s doing, following you like this. It’s creepy, probably, but there’s just something about your demeanor today that’s not sitting right with him. 

Your party’s great. You’ve made fun drinks and more snacking foods than anyone can eat, been migrating from group to group to make sure everyone is introduced and comfortable, struck that delicate balance in temperature so that Remus isn’t too warm but Sirius isn’t too cold, you’re the perfect hostess. But there’s something about you, in you, that feels off to him. 

You pass the bathroom, going into your room and shutting the door behind you. You want to be alone, clearly. James should respect that. 

He knocks softly so as not to startle you. Waits a few moments, then says your name. 

“Yeah?” There it is again, that wrongness. It’s your voice, and yet it doesn’t sound entirely like you. “Is everything okay?” 

Is it? he wonders. “Yeah,” he says, “can I come in?” 

“Do you need something?” You sound embarrassed to be asking. It’s not really in your nature to deny anyone anything. “I’ll be out in a minute.” 

James should go. He should, but his blood is thrumming in his fingertips. He asks, “Are you okay?” 

Silence from the other side of the door. 

He tries the handle. It moves. “Hey, I’m coming in, alright? Shout if you’re naked or something.” 

When the quiet persists, he opens the door. You’re slumped on your bed, fingertips pressing harshly into your face and your eyes pinched shut. The air in James’ lungs goes stale. 

You open your eyes to look at him, and they’re wet, not quite red but getting there. You say in a hushed voice, “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” James says automatically, closing the door softly behind him. Then, “What do you have to be sorry for? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” You give him a watery smile, waving a hand like this state he’s found you in is irrelevant. Laughable. “I don’t mean to take you away from things.” 

“You’re not, angel.” James crosses the distance to you slowly, giving you time to signal for him to stop. When you don’t he eases onto the bed beside you. The mattress dips, making his hip slide until it’s touching yours. “I wanted to come see you. What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” You try to laugh, but twin tears escape from the corners of your eyes, undermining the effort. You catch them before they can get far. “Do you think everyone is having a good time?” 

Your voice nearly cracks on the last word, and James’ heart completes the act. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs. You squeeze your eyes shut as if his caring stings. “Can I hug you?” 

Your nod is mute and stiff enough that James doesn’t fully trust you mean it. He wraps his arms around you tentatively, only pulling you to his chest when you turn into him, letting your face wet his neck. 

“Everyone’s having a great time,” he answers honestly, thumb sweeping over your shoulder. “If you’re not, though, we can go home. You don’t have to do all this if you’re not feeling up to it.” 

“No,” you say thickly, worming a hand between you to rub cruelly at your eyes. “No, I don’t want to be a nuisance.” 

“You wouldn’t be.” James holds you closer, his body obeying some futile wish to protect you from whatever makes you think things like that. Your face is warm against his shoulder, the slow dampness seeping into his collar evidence that your upset hasn’t dissipated. “It’s your party, you shouldn’t need to cater to everyone when you’re not even getting to enjoy it yourself. We’re being nuisances to you, really.” 

“No you’re not.” Your rebuttal comes quick and ardent, a knee-jerk reaction. You ease away from James’ chest, wiping under your nose. He lets his arms fall to your waist but keeps you in their circle. “You’re my friends, you could never be nuisances to me.” 

He smiles. “You seem to be catching on.” 

Your expression remains solemn. Guilty. “I just feel like…” Your gaze flees downward. James doesn’t give chase, letting you have what space you can. “I think that if I’m not being useful, I’d probably be more trouble than I’m worth. Maybe more of a nuisance than people think.” 

For a second, James can only look at you, any placations or assurances drying up on his tongue. Despite your best efforts, your upset has left little pools of makeup underneath your eyes, and your shoulders are hunched inward like you want to hide this part of yourself. Which you do, obviously. If James hadn’t pried his way in here you would have had your cry in private, probably rejoined the party with a pasted-on smile, back in your role as the perfect hostess and ready to please everyone again. He wonders how many times it’s happened. 

All day James has been thinking you’re not yourself, but maybe he was putting that pressure on you too, to be the self that made things easy for everyone. Put-together, palatable. Perfect. 

“You think we care how useful you are?” he asks, smoothing a hand up your side to cup your neck. He doesn’t force you to turn your face up to his, but you’re amenable to it, following the motion of his thumb on your jaw. “You’re our friend, too. We care about you, not what you can do for us.” 

Your face pinches and then crumples, and James pulls you into his chest again, making half-desperate shushing sounds while he pats your back. 

“Sorry,” you squeak. “I’m trying not to—” 

“Hey, don’t be sorry, angel, okay?” James turns his face into your hair, kissing the side of your head and not letting himself think about what that might mean to either one of you. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ve got you.” The tension seems to slip from your shoulders, and then they’re shaking properly. You wrap your arms around his middle. “It’s okay,” he promises, gathering you closer. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” 

[miirohs]

nothing on me but you [l.d.n]

pairing: Mob Boss!Lando Norris x Assistant!Reader wc: 1.0k cw: slight dubcon (they kiss while reader is under influence and without permission), possessive behavior, he is a red flag lowkey? an: and when the world needed her most, she came back (after crying for 2 weeks straight and slapping herself to pull it together)... chat i didn't cook with this one pls dont flop.

You could feel people's eyes on you even as you left the hall, talking quietly among themselves as you clung on tighter to Landos arm, almost trying to make yourself invisible.

You could hear their still hear their sighs of pity, following you out the building.

You knew exactly what they were whispering were about.

It wasn’t a secret that Lando was a playboy, and now everyone assumed you were just another one of the bodies in his count. You were madly in love with him, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to face the fact that you were just another thing he would claim, sooner or later.

As the cold wave of realization and sadness washed over you, you let go of your grasp around his shoulders, gently prying his hands off you as you stood still. You hadn’t drunk enough to be able to forget a whole car ride home.

“Sir…this doesn’t look right, I think you should just let me go home by myself.” You mumbled, head hanging in shame as he turned back to you. The alcohol wasn’t wearing off quick enough.

“Leave you alone? Drunk?” He said, tone incredulous as you looked at him. 

“Mmmh, I could just call an uber…?” You trailed off, noticing the look of annoyance on his face. He rarely hid anything from you, especially not his displeasement.

“An uber? I don’t think it would be very wise of me to leave you alone like that, I'm surprised you could even suggest such a thing while I'm still here.” He said sternly, reaching out to grab your hand firmly. “C’mon, you’re in no state to leave on your own baby.”

His car was parked at the corner, lavish from the outside and especially on the inside as you slid in, letting go of his hand as he shut the door with a smile.

The car ride was met with a charged silence, comfortably settled between you. You could see the city lights from your window, beating brightly in the distance. You kept stealing glances at him every now and then, watching as the light from the streets passed over his eyes, jewelry glinting softly. His hand gripped the wheel as he drove, humming something softly. The song playing softly in the background seemed to tune out as his hand intertwined into yours. 

It was just too calm. You just couldn’t bear the silence any longer.

“Sir, i just wanna ask-”

“Lan.”

You paused, taken aback by the sudden interruption.

“I’m sorry?”

“Start calling me Lan again. I miss it.” 

You hadn’t called him that in ages, not since the days of your early and very short friendship. You wondered what could’ve brought it up, but you were in no place to say no.

For a moment, you wondered if he felt the same.

“Sir- I mean Lan, what are you doing this for?”

“So what, I can’t do nice things for you?” He chuckled, cringing slightly as the edge in his voice betrayed him. His hand slipped away from yours and you wanted to grab it back, but shame kept you from doing so.

“Well, i just assumed that you just wanted to-” He turned towards you, eyes dark as he looked you up and down.

“Assumed that I was doing this just because I wanted you in my bed? Have you been listening to what all those worthless people whisper about you and me then?” He tsked, clearly peeved by the things coming out of your mouth.

“Isn’t that what you did for all the other ones too? I’m just one of many-” His grip on the wheel tightened, knuckles turning white.

“Who said that you were one of all those other ones, baby?” 

His words cut through the ache in your heart like a knife. You almost couldn’t breathe, thoughts filling your head at what he’d just said.

"Baby, who said that you were one of all those other ones?" he repeated softly, his voice gentle in comparison to the deadly smile on his face. 

You swallowed hard, finding it hard to think under his intense glare. “I- I don’t know. I just thought that maybe we’d be better off parting ways because clearly people don’t-”

“You’re such a liar baby, you know that?”

“What?” Your heart dropped.

You hadn’t realized you had reached his sprawling mansion, the lights coming alive as you came to a sharp stop at his doorstep.

He hadn’t unlocked the door handles either, turning off the ignition and then turning to you.

“Such a liar, baby.” There was warmth in the laughs he let out, yet his expression was unreadable as his hand gently cupped the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me. Can you imagine how mad it made me up to see you look at other people like that?” He hissed, lips almost up against yours.

You whined as he moved away, smirking at your state.

You wanted him desperately, and he knew. “Can’t you see that I want you? And don’t lie, I know you want me too. Don’t think I haven't seen the way you’ve looked at me.” He cooed, leaning into you.

You faltered, unable to form a coherent response as Lando’s hand moved to your cheek, his touch comforting and suffocating at the same time.

“I want y-“

But before you could utter another word, he pulled you in, pressing his lips firmly against yours. He gnawed at your bottom lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth, the aftertaste of champagne overpowering it all.

You broke from it, inhaling deeply before he pulled you in once more, relentless in the way he greedily devoured the air from you. His grip on your nape had loosely returned, thumb running up and down the back of your neck before his hand slowly ran down the backless dress.

You pushed him away again, softer this time as you choked on the sudden intake of air.

His head ran up and down your back, eventually wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him.

“I want nothing on me but you, have I made that clear? I love you.” He whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Lando.”

“Say it back, please.” He begged, a slightly pout forming in his face.

“I love you too, Lan.”

[superhoeva]

𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐜. 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨 (𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, +𝟏𝟖) | in desperate need of this man fr, that's all i can really say at this point! i feel like this is not good but maybe that's just because i've been staring at it for the past two days?? warning(s) include smut, language, bodily fluids (mentioned), foreplay (no penetration), carmen having ZERO patience when it comes to you. also, reader is written as someone with a vagina, but no other gendered terms are used. we can all benefit from some more inclusivity whether it's pronouns or otherwise! hope you enjoy! <3 (w.c. - 1.5k)

Carmen finds you in the middle of his couch, hunched over your papers of notes and laptop as you work. Dressed in nothing but a white tank and underwear so thin he’s not even sure if he can call them that. It’s only a plus that you’ve got reading glasses on, Carm biting the inside of his cheek at how they frame your face.

Shuffling his way to the couch, he stops behind where you sit. He smiles at the chuckle you let out when his hands softly grip your shoulders.

“You���re supposed to be almost done…” Carmen trails, not even trying to hide the neediness warping his tone. Or his arms, for that matter, when they trap you in a hug around your neck that weighs you further into the couch.

Carmen bends, squeezing you in a way that steals away your attention. You sigh in his arms, palms finding home on the strong muscle surrounding you.

“I am, baby,” you promise him, glazing over the work in front of you. “Just a few more things to check off, then I’m all yours, okay?”

The chef holds back his whine, but not the way his bottom lip pokes out. He sniffs, arms untangling from you only to take hold of your shoulders once again and bend down a further. Your skin jumps at the unexpected peck. A lengthy hum leaves Carmen after he kisses you again and takes in a long-lasting inhale.

“No, not okay. But you smell good,” he mumbles against your neck. “Look even better.”

You smile to yourself, your attempt to return to the computer on your lap interrupted by wandering, tattooed hands.

“Bear, come on–”

“Just for a sec,” the man promises, closing and scooting your laptop and notepad onto the next cushion over “Wanna love on you some. Can I do that?”

You don’t answer. You can’t answer, words somewhere far with the way Carmen’s started mouthing at your neck with open kisses. He drags his tongue up and up to the spot behind your ear, as he maneuvers the tilt of your head to turn and face him.

His snog drives deep, hand on the back of your head to draw you even closer. He’s bent over the back of the couch, grip sneaking under the cotton of your tank to flick his fingers against one of your nipples. The slight twirls and tugs he pairs have you jolting with a gasp that he only lets break your mouths apart for a fraction of a second.

He’s quick to slide his tongue back into your mouth, lips slick with a mixture of the both of you. Something crass sounds when he sucks at you, and he moves to the other nipple with the same pulling and tugging that has your eyes rolling.

“Fuck,” is what he mumbles, but you can’t make it out over the heavy pants that leave your nose in loud huffs. Your hand reaches up to tangle in his hair, and he releases another noise at the slight tug you give it. Nothing too painful, but enough for him to feel it.

Something igniting in Carmen, he retreats his fingers from your chest just to work them down across your stomach and fiddle with the waistband of your underwear.

He also pulls away from his kiss, causing a while to trail from you. Your pout, however, quickly turns when your eyes pry open to see him looking at you. He stares at you with a stirring haze, fingers delving into the warmth of his mouth.

Popping them out after an extensive second, he holds them for you to do the same. Heat fills his gaze when you wrap your lips around his digits, coating them with spit just like you know he wants you to.

“That’s it,” Carmen hushes out, nosing at the side of your face as you grab at his hand to push it deeper. He’s pressing a tender peck into your jaw as you slide the fingers out slowly. They’re wet and shine in the warm light of the room as he lowers his hand back down, pinkly expertly sliding the thin material covering you to the side to glide the fingers into your dampening slit. His drag up to your clit is not as fast as it could be but is weighty with churning intention.

Your head throws back, lips breathlessly tumbling out a useless mixture of words. Carmen leans further into the couch, holding you as you squirm. There’s a pattern to your movements, tensing and relaxing as he strokes his fingers up and down. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ thing I ever seen,” Carmen rasps out, eyes wild as they take in the angle. Chest stretching the tight fabric of your top, your nipples are visibly pebbled. He grunts, a spark of eagerness hardening him further. The crotch of the sweatpants he sports hangs heavy with his cock, a dark spot of sticky precum already staining the material in more than one spot.

Your back bends into a slight arch when he stops to circle and press on your swelling clit, the pads of his fingers rubbing at you with growing fever.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan brokenly, grabbing at his forearm that kneads against your abdomen as he massages your center with fat strokes. Both of your thick and heavy breathing mix with the squelching from down below. 

“So fuckin’ wet for me,” Carmen huffs, pulling his hand up to get a quick taste before plunging them back against your opening. He gathers your seemingly endless wetness, using it to continue his slipping over your throbbing clit. “Put your hand over mine, gorgeous. Put it over mine and do it how you like, okay?”

You obey immediately, fingers pushing against his to add a gratifying pleasure that has you bucking up against the union of your hands. You grind and twist your hips harder, clit pulsing with a pleasing throb. Carmen’s fingertips are drowning against you and slip so easily along with yours. He takes every bit of your direction, letting you push him wherever you want.

He isn’t even inside you and you’re close to exploding. The heat has lowered to settle heavy around your pussy that clenches around nothing, strings of incoherency streaming from your kissed-swollen lips.

Carmen tilts your head again, staring at you close and ignoring how his arm is starting to cramp. That’s nothing compared to how you feel against his hand and how his cock twitches all alone against his sweatpants. You breathe in each other, inhaling all you can get and you focus the entirety of his attention right onto your clit. The drooling of your entrance makes it disgustingly sloppy, but he doesn’t look away from you.

Faces nearly touching, Carmen circles across your pearl at just the right angle that you start seeing starts. You huff and pant and cry into him as he clutches you, your entire body twitching against him as you come.

“There we go, just like that. Oh, fuck, yeah, gimme all of it. Nah, keep ‘em open,” Carmen instructs, arm reaching down to stop you from clenching your thighs together tight. His hold is strong against your leg as he rubs and rubs at you, who can only weep out while grasping to grip at whatever part of him you can get ahold of. “Keep ‘em open, I wanna see you come all for me.”

After a while of your unrestrained groans and his own quiet expels of pleasure to talk you through it sounding out into the room, his stroking slows. You hold onto Carmen tight as you continue to twitch in your ecstasy. The only thing keeping you grounded is the rumbly I know, baby. I know. So fuckin’ good for me. Always so good for me from your boyfriend as you inch down from the high.

“You okay?”

The question seems far but you nod anyway. He grins with a kiss to your damp forehead, hissing a bit as his clothed dick hits the couch. You catch this sound a little better, eyes opening to meet this.

It’s your turn to initiate the kiss, pulling him back down into you. Folded half over the couch, Carmen cradles your face with one hand, using the other to palm at his dick. You heighten to your knees and spin on the couch, slipping into his waistband.

All you have to do is feather a light touch across the wet head of his seeping tip, and he’s damn near collapsing into you. He grabs you with hot hands, a moan punching from his chest as he mumbles messily against your lips.

“Can I take you to bed? Can I take you to bed, please? Wanna fuck you so bad, need to fuck you, baby.”

You settle Carmen’s pleas with a hand on his chest as he awaits your answer with hooded eyes and heavy breaths.

“Here,” hurrying kisses into his jawline and giving another squeeze to his dick. “Fuck me hre instead.”

Carmen pulls back with a pause before lugging himself over the back of the couch where your work sits long forgotten. Staring into you with a barely contained ferocity, he whispers to you with a hair-raising husk.

“Bend the fuck over.”

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 5

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, sexually charged conversation, smut, oral, sex toys/strap ons, nothing too crazy this time, some minor kink talk

Over the course of the next week you noticed that Emily was slipping into her sugar mommy role quite well. An extra ten dollars in your Venmo for coffee and a pastry one day, a few good morning texts, wishing for you to have a good day, take out delivered to your office on the day you mentioned forgetting to grab your lunch. The meals or snacks seemed to be the biggest ones, she knew you worked insane hours and were likely working into the evenings most of the time as well, checking that you were still at the office before she would have something sent over.

You were in your office late Wednesday afternoon, finally finishing up the extra workload when there was a brief knock on your door.

“Yeah?” You called out, glancing up from your laptop to find Heather entering the office with a potted bouquet in her hands.

“Jaydyn dropped this off to my office this morning, I just got around to reading the card.” Placing it down on a side table she swiped the card, “and considering I’m the instigator, these are not for me.” She extended it out to you and you flipped it around.

‘St Regis. 8pm, Friday.                                E.’

“You better not be planning to keep me late Friday.” You commented, tucking the card into your agenda.

“What’re we going to do with her?” Heather asked with a huff, dropping into one of the chairs across from your desk and your brow furrowed.

“Emily?”

“No, Jaydyn.” She glanced toward you, “she’s messed up four times this week alone. Can you take care of her?”

“I’m not HR Heather…” you warned, “do it yourself.”

“If I sort it before Monday, you’re going to have to take on the press conference with Sharp.” She countered and you rolled your eyes, tossing an eraser in her direction.

“I’ll draw up the termination paperwork but that’s as far as I go.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, “I would certainly hate all the deliveries you’ve gotten to go to waste.”

You let out a soft sigh, glancing up to the flowers, “about that… I’m sorry. I’ll tell her not at work from now on.”

“Oh by all means don’t let me stop you. Just make sure to lock your door if you’re fucking in your office.”

“Heather!” You groaned, feeling your cheeks burning.

“Oh please.” She smirked, “so… how was it?”

“What?” You looked up from your laptop, turning your attention to the other woman.

“Sweetheart, you know I have a standing reservation at The Conrad.”

“Ohhh… that explains the bondage straps under the bed.” You teased, “and here I was thinking that was a progressive new amenity.”

“How was the date?”

“It was fine, good.”

“Fine? Come on, I’m trying to help you out here. What’s the issue? She’s got money, she’s gorgeous, I enjoy her company, and I don’t know why but there’s an air about her that says she’s fantastic in the bedroom and lord knows you’re pent up enough you need to get laid.”

“Gee… I wonder why that might be.” You replied dryly and she laughed.

“All I’m saying is I saw two of my friends struggling with the same issue and figured I should put them in contact.”

“You really should think about financing a sugar matchmaker.” You noted, “and the date was good. She got called into work, I think she’s out in Nevada right now chasing down some psychopath.”

“Shame.” She replied with a breath, standing from her chair, “I was hoping for the dirty details.” She shot you a wink before turning to head to the door.

“Couldn’t if I wanted to, signed an NDA.” You lied, though you were quickly caught in it as she called over her shoulder.

“I know for a fact you didn’t, who do you think drew up her paperwork?”

“Fuck.” You muttered, letting out a huff of a laugh and shaking your head as the other woman left the room and you were finally able to return back to your work.

When Friday finally rolled around Heather was quick to kick you out of the office well before your usual finishing time, once again suggesting a few specific clothing options for you to wear that night. After showering you were flicking through your closet and realized she was right, pulling out a tighter plum cocktail dress to slip into. You poured a glass of wine while you redid your make up to help calm any last minute nerves and called an Uber shortly before eight o’clock.

The St Regis had a stunningly gorgeous lobby and even though the room was rather busy considering it was Friday, you spotted Emily fairly quickly. She was settled into one of the couches, very fitted dress pants and a stylish navy top, her hair loose around her shoulders. As you made your way over to her she glanced up, catching your eye as a smile crept onto her lips.

“You weren’t kidding about your punctuality.” She greeted, standing from the couch and you chuckled.

“Last I heard, it was incredibly rude to keep a gorgeous woman waiting.” You replied, stepping forward to kiss her cheek as she did the same to you. Her hand lingered on your side, sweeping across to your lower back as she fell in step beside you, nudging you in the direction of the restaurant.

“I’m glad I was on time then.” Emily half teased and you let out a small laugh.

“Even if I tried I couldn’t have been late, I’ve been thinking about this dinner all day.”

“You’re telling me.” She nearly groaned, “I’ve been surviving off shitty hotel room service and small town take out all week.”

“I’m going to assume that’s all very limited.”

“Egg bagels for breakfast, bologna sandwiches at the precinct and burgers every night. I am more than ready for a change.”

“It sounds like you definitely deserve the treat then.”

Emily’s hand slipped off your back as you approached the check in stand at Alhambra, giving the host a friendly greeting before they led you to your table. A cozy little corner of the restaurant, settled up against the window was the perfect place, just far enough away from the bulk of the crowd you wouldn’t have to worry about eavesdroppers. It didn’t take long to decide on a bottle of red to share and you settled in, exploring the menu while you caught up with each other after the long week.

There was a slight sense of eagerness mixed with a hint of nerves floating around the table, the desire to skip the meal entirely and head directly upstairs sitting in the back of your minds. That desire was nearly too strong and partially won when Emily suggested skipping straight to the entrée course and you were quick to agree that nothing on the appetizer menu was really jumping out to you. When your server came back to check on the table and pour out wine for the two of you, dinner was ordered, menus taken away and after a few sips of wine you could finally start to focus on each other.

“Thank you, for the flowers by the way.” You smiled softly over the rim of your glass, “they’re gorgeous.”

“I should have asked about sending them to your work.” She replied, an apology written across her face, “I didn’t realize until it was too late that I didn’t have your home address.”

“It’s fine.” You replied with a shrug and a grin, “besides, gives the office something to gossip about, right?”

“I guess that’s right.” She laughed softly, “I’m a little surprised I managed to not get called out for being on my phone so much this week.”

“You’re the boss,” you offered, “you’re probably on your phone all the time already. Nothing new for a team of profilers.”

“I guess. And I’m not complaining, there is something exciting about having a secret.”

“There most certainly is.” You replied, a near hungry look in your eye that made Emily’s pulse pick up, heat beginning to build through her body, “even more so when it’s a dirty secret.”

She cocked a brow in your direction, her voice lowering, “that so? Are you a dirty girl?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” You replied with a smirk, taking another sip of wine, “I can assure you; I’ll be good no matter what.”

“I would hate to have to punish you.” She fired back and you felt a tingle shoot through your body.

“Hmm.. part of me thinks you’d rather enjoy that.”

She took the chance to turn your own words back on you, “you’ll just have to wait and see about that.”

“Good thing I’m patient then.”

While the sentiment was normally true, it certainly wasn’t tonight. Luckily, Emily’s patience was also wearing thinner by the moment, neither of you finishing your meals and very quickly turning down the chance to even see a dessert menu.

By the time you got into the elevator your heart was racing, sparks flying through your body at the feeling of Emily’s fingertips drawing patterns on your back as she stepped impossibly close to you. You could feel the heat from her body wafting onto yours and your breath caught in your throat. The doors slid open, letting the other couple out before they slid shut again, leaving you alone and you could feel her breath on the back of your neck before she spoke.

“You are going to be a good girl for me, right?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, gulping at the feeling of her fingers tracing higher on your back, now tickling at your bare skin.

“Good.” She murmured, her fingers squeezing softly at the back of your neck before they slid into your hair, her free hand grasping your hip as she turned you in her arms, swiftly backing you into the wall of the elevator and her lips captured yours in a kiss.

While she had been showing some signs of uncertainty when it came to navigating this particular type of situation, it was suddenly very clear that she knew exactly what she was doing when it came to the more intimate side of things. Only a second after her hands were on you, her lips gliding against yours and you were complete putty in her hands.

Your hands easily looped around her shoulders, pulling her tighter to you as your lips moved with grace against each other. Emily slotted a leg between yours, knee against the wall right as her tongue slid across your lips, urging them to part and you quickly obliged. Her tongue swept into your mouth and you couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, hips rocking toward her and she ground you down onto her thigh. You couldn’t help but let out a small whimper into the kiss, one that morphed into a needy whine as the elevator dinged and Emily suddenly stepped away from you, her hand grabbing yours to quickly lead you down the hallway.

“Thought you were patient.” She teased with a gleam in her eye and you only had enough time to let out a huff of a laugh before you were inside the suite. “Cause now you’re sounding like a needy girl.”

“Maybe if someone wasn’t such a tease.” You shot back and she chuckled darkly, stepping toward you, gently pinching your chin as she titled your face up towards her.

“For someone who wants to cut to the chase so badly, you certainly are overdressed.” Her fingers slipped into the straps of your dress, nudging them over your shoulders, “how about we get this off?”

Your hands reached behind your back, tugging the zipper down before pushing the dress down to your feet, stepping out of it along with your heels. You watched with hungry eyes as Emily’s fingers swiftly undid her blouse, dropping it behind her before she stepped back to you, her hands cascading across your skin.

“Such a pretty girl in pretty lace.” She husked, her fingers trailing over the waistband of your panties before surging upward and tracing the pattern of the lace covering the cups. Your breath caught in your throat when her fingers brushed over your nipples and her lips curved up into a grin, groping your chest and successfully pulling a moan from you. “Let me see these gorgeous tits.”

You reached behind you, unclasping your bra and letting it fall to the floor, heat prickling beneath your skin at the feeling of Emily’s gaze on you. Her hands returned to your body, caressing your exposed chest, fingers pinching gently at your nipples, eagerly watching your reactions. She stepped forward, lips meeting yours in a lazy kiss while your hands wrapped around her, un doing her bra so you could mimic her movements. She let out a soft moan into the kiss and your hands sunk south, groping at her ass, rolling her hips toward you as you slotted a leg between hers.

Emily barely pulled away from the kiss to scold you, “uh-uh princess. Or did you forget that tonight was about me fucking you into next week?”

“Fuck…” you muttered and she laughed softly, nudging you backwards toward the bed.

“Now get rid of those panties and lie back.”

While you dropped onto the bed, fingertips slipping into the waistband of your underwear to tug them down your legs, Emily took the time to rid herself of her pants and slid the hair tie off her wrist, loosely pulling her hair back before she crawled over you on the bed. She kissed you again, her tongue surging into your mouth as you let out a soft groan at the feel of her hands back playing with your tits. Your back arched off the bed when she pinched your nipples, harder than the first time.

“Oh god..” Your head dropped back into the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and she took advantage of your exposed neck.

Her lips trailed down it, pausing briefly to nip at your sensitive skin, wondering if she should mark you or not. Instead she licked across your collarbone before sucking a nipple into her mouth and you moaned, your fingers weaving into her hair the best they could. This time her teeth did scrape across your skin and you whimpered, heat tingling from where her mouth was on your body down all the way between your legs. It didn’t take long before Emily’s lips had traced their way down your body and her hands were on your thighs, spreading them wide to make room for herself. Her thumb swept through your folds, briefly pressing on your clit and you moaned, pussy fluttering around nothing.

“Such a pretty girl.” She cooed before shifting forward, repeating the motion but this time using her tongue and you couldn’t help but let out a gasp.

“Fuck!”

Her lips wrapped around your lower ones, tongue drawing patterns across your cunt as she began to eat you out. She eagerly accepted your hand tangled in her hair, urging her closer to your pussy, her tongue slipping in as far as she could, lapping at the juices that were starting to leak out. She groaned over your taste, grinding down against the mattress as her fingers dug into the skin of your thighs. The taste of you on her tongue and the way your thighs were already trembling under her touch was enough to drive her wild and she was certain she would never get over it. Knowing that you were this turned on already and that she had this effect on you had her pussy throbbing, dampening her panties as she continued to lick at your cunt. Her nose bumped against your clit and you whined, your hips rocking up towards her,

“More…” you begged and she smirked, her tongue lapping through your folds before it flicked at your clit and you whimpered.

“You like that?” She asked, her tongue flicking your clit again and you shuddered, nodding. “you want your pretty clit sucked?” She flattened her tongue, slowly dragging it across your swollen nub and you groaned, your fingers tightening in her hair.

“Yes! Please!”

“Such a good girl.” She praised, “I guess good girls do get rewarded.”

Her lips wrapped around your clit, sucking it into her mouth and you let out a very satisfied moan, eyes scrunching shut as her tongue traced patterns around it. Emily brought her hand up, two finger tips sliding up and down your folds, teasing you, coating them in your wetness before she slid them into your pussy.

“Fuck… Emily…” Your pussy fluttered around her fingers, pleasure surging through you as the fire prickled just under your skin.

She had an expertise at what she was doing, you could tell, and it never took long for her to follow her instincts, read your body language and reactions. It felt like she had barely started touching you and you were already panting, a shimmer of sweat glistening over your body as her fingers began to pump inside your cunt. She popped off your clit, blowing cool air on it and you shivered, your hand clawing at the bedspread as your pussy pulsed around her fingers. With her mouth back on you her fingers began to curl to find that extra sensitive spot within you and she found it faster than she expected. You could feel the smirk of her lips as you cried out.

“Oh god… yes!” You whined when her finger tips hit it again, “right there.”

Emily sucked harder on your clit as her fingers brushed your g-spot again, pressing harder and longer with each thrust of her hand. Feeling the way your thighs were squeezing around her, the way your hips jolted up off the bed with each pump of her fingers she knew you had to be close, your pussy clenching down around her as she picked up the speed. It didn’t take long at all before you were moaning loudly, pleasure shooting through your veins, bursting from your body and your juices were dribbling down her hand. Your body shook, a whine escaping your lips and she pulled away from you slightly, her fingers slowing as they fucked you through your orgasm.

Once you had mostly come back down to earth her fingers slipped from you and she sucked them clean before crawling up your body, kissing you breathless. Your hand wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her closer to you as your tongue danced with hers, groaning over the taste of you in her mouth.

“Roll over.” She murmured, lips brushing against yours as she swatted at your hip.

You eagerly rolled to your stomach, the bed dipping as she slid off it and you watched her wander to a chair, digging through a small duffle until she pulled out the strap and a bottle of lube. Your eyes darkened as she stepped into it, adjusting the toy and you popped up to your hands and knees, presenting yourself to her.

She sauntered back over to the bed, climbing on behind you and her hands ghosted up your thighs, spreading your cheeks so she could get a look at your cunt, glistening in the low light of the room, smeared with your juices.

“Such a pretty pussy.” She praised, her hand gently slapping against it and you let out a breathy whine, your eyes fluttering shut as your rocked back towards the touch. “Oh?” She raised a brow, “you like that, hm? Like being spanked?” This time her hand swatted at your ass and you let out a low moan.

“Yes..”

“I’ll have to remember that.” She cracked open the bottle of lube, smearing it across the dildo, “but for now… do you want my cock?” She nudged the head of it against your pussy and you whined, “want me to stretch out this pretty pussy?”

“Please!” You cried out, hands grasping at the bedspread as you felt yourself pulse over nothing.

Emily chuckled softly, her hands coming to rest on your hips as her cock sunk inch by inch into your pussy and you let out a satisfied groan when her hips collided with yours, cock deep in your cunt. She pulled out until just the tip was left inside you and thrusted her hips sharply, pulling a throaty gasp from you. Pausing for a moment while she was buried deep she circled her hips and you let out a satisfied sigh, your body rocking back toward her and she knew she was in the clear, you had no issue being fucked that hard.

“Take me so well princess.” She murmured, a hand rubbing up your back before she thrust deeply back into you and you groaned again.

Emily then set a steady pace, her cock plunging into you with each thrust, your body rocking forward and following her movement back, eager for more. Each pump of her hips you could feel the ridges of the toy dragging through your walls, hitting every spot you needed them to, your pussy fluttering harder and harder around it. Emily’s lips curved up into a grin at the sight of her cock coated in more of your juices each time she pulled it out, that you had gone from moaning to only being able to whimper and whine as she fucked you harder. Her hand slid up your back, leaving goosebumps in its path before she tangled into your hair, tugging at the roots and you let out a gasp, your pussy clenching down around her cock.

“Fuck…” You managed out between moans, fire burning through your entire body as she fucked deeper into you.

The hand Emily had in your hair pulled harder, yanking you up flush to her and your breath struggled through your throat before coming out as a gasping moan, feeling her mouth in the crook of your neck again.  Her free hand wrapped around your body, easily finding your clit, beginning to rub at it in time with her thrusts.

“Such a good girl.” She husked into your ear, “such pretty sounds.” Her teeth nipped at your earlobe, “come for me princess, I know you’re close.”

Her fingers pressed harder on your clit, rubbing faster as she continued to fuck you, your bodies slick with sweat, the room filled with a cacophony of your moans, wetness and skin meeting skin. Emily’s cock hit a spot inside you and you cried out, your hand wrapping around her wrist in an attempt to ground yourself as she fucked you even harder, pulling you over the ledge for you to come tumbling down as your orgasm flooded over you. Your juices coated her cock, dripping down your thighs as your body trembled in her arms before she let you collapse down onto the mattress and she slowed her thrusts.

“Jesus Christ.” You whimpered, voice muffled by the sheets as your body shook, pleasure shooting all the way from the tips of your fingers down to your toes as a second wind waved over your body.

Behind you Emily chuckled darkly, slowing her thrusts until she was completely stilled, still inside you and she leant over your body, leaving a trail of soft kisses down your spine before she slipped out of you. You let out a small whine at the loss of feeling so full, the ache already setting in between your legs as she shifted off the bed to slip out of the strap, leaving it to be dealt with later.

“You okay?” She asked softly, her hand ghosting up your back as she crawled back onto the bed and you let out a happy hum.

“Absolutely perfect.” You shifted slightly, shoving the mussed up blankets so you could at least slip half beneath them as Emily settled on the bed, her arm winding around you, urging you to curl into her side.

Her hand continued to rub soothing patterns into your back as you finally managed to catch your breath, a dopey smile on your cheeks as you rested on her chest. She wordlessly reached out to the remote, turning on the television and flicking through the channels until something caught her interest and you let out a hum to convey your interest. It wasn’t much longer past that point that your stomach let out a low grumble and she laughed quietly.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have rushed through dinner so fast.” You laughed, shifting to prop yourself up on your elbow, “they have a room service menu?”

She leaned over, shuffling through the nightstand before returning with one, flipping it open and passing it to you, “pick whatever you want. I’ve got a bottle of wine in the fridge.”

It didn’t take long for you to call down to place an order in while Emily disappeared into the bathroom before grabbing the wine and some plastic cups, returning to the bed before you did the same. Fifteen minutes later you had an order of spinach dip, potstickers, and a very self indulgent plate of chicken strips for yourself spread out across the bed along with glasses of wine. You were mainly paying attention to the television, but the conversation was still peppered through as time went by, laughing over jokes and getting to know each other on a different level. Once the food was finished, Emily encouraged you to get cozy, that you were obviously welcome to stay the night and you took full advantage of that, stretching out in the luxury bed. She did mention it was likely she would have to take off before she wanted to the next morning, but she wouldn’t wake you, that she wanted you to stay as long as you wanted.

Both of you wanted to stay up later, but the six a.m. wake up that morning was catching up with you by the time midnight rolled around, yawns being passed back and fourth before you were snuggling into the pillows and Emily finally flicked off the tv.

The sound of your phone pinging woke you up in the morning, sun streaming across the warm bed and you let out a yawn, stretching out your deliciously sore body as you did so. Glancing around the suite you assumed Emily had left earlier and that thought was confirmed when you glanced to the bedside table, an envelope propped up against the lamp. You picked it up, finding her writing scrawled across the back of it.

‘Clear your schedule for next Saturday. I’ll text you more info later, but for now, take this and buy yourself something nice.’

Holding the envelope up to the window you could tell she had left you a credit card to do some shopping with and a happy smile broke out on your lips. When you picked up your phone you discovered that it was a Venmo notification that had woken you up, two hundred dollars sent from Emily.

Letting out a happy sigh you dropped back into the plush pillows, you certainly weren’t going to complain about spending your weekends like this from now on.

________________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sires-blog

[rainylana]

“It’s just a cut.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: too many times had eddie tended to your wounds and broken heart. he’s had enough.

a potential series if you guys want it! let me know!

warnings: extremely angsty and not for everyone! i tried to make this as real as possible for both sides and it’s not an easy read. please tread with caution. therefore warnings are: physical and emotional abuse by readers mother, wounds and blood, mentions of weighed and irregular eating habits, low confidence and self esteem mentions, language, very angsty fight between reader and eddie, broken nose, lots of tears, reader still loves her mother very much despite her actions. eddie isn’t a jerk, i didn’t try to convey him that way, but this is a heavy subject and it needed to feel real. i dated a jerk and know what some of this can be like. requested by @h-ness1944 i hope you like this dear! i hope i did it justice to what you wanted!

Was he mad? You couldn’t tell. He hadn’t said anything in almost twenty minutes. Your heart was racing. The last thing you wanted was to loose him. You knew it was getting to him, seeing you all cut up and beaten on, but what else was there to do?

Your shirt was off, sitting on the couch in your bra and jeans as you sniffled, tears that had long since dried and left a sticky residue on your cheeks, mascara dark and streaked. Your mom had thrown a beer bottle at you again, a normal occurrence, they just didn’t usually hit you. It had sliced the skin on your back open. Luckily, it wasn’t bad enough to need stitches, but that didn’t matter to Eddie.

You regretted coming over. You shouldn’t have bothered him with it. You could feel the anger and hurt radiating off of him. You had sworn him to secrecy, and you could see the toll it took on him.

Your mom had increasingly got more creative when it came to dealing out punishments. She had ever since she started heavily drinking, when your dad had left her. You loved your dad and missed him dearly, but you didn’t blame him for leaving her. He had to take care of himself too. If he knew what your mom did, he’d surely come back to stop her. You couldn’t do that to him. At the end of the day, you could endure it, you just weren’t sure if Eddie could anymore.

“Please say something.” Your voice was hoarse.

You had your back to him, wincing slightly as he dapped a pad of alcohol on your cut, trying to make sure it didn’t get caught with an infection.

“What do you want me to say?” His voice barely conveyed any emotion.

When you had showed up, blood seeping through your shirt, he’d done what he did every time, debated taking you to the hospital, but your panicked state always talked him out of it. He’d sunk into protective mode, guiding you to the couch and pulling your shirt off, shushing you gently and telling you he’d get you fixed up. That was twenty five minutes ago. He was too quiet now.

His voice brought fresh tears to your eyes. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

He sighed heavily, cursing himself. There was no need to be cold toward you. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He squeezed your shoulder. “I’m almost finished.”

He wiped your wound dry, covering it with a gauze and bandage. He’d stocked up on medical supplies a few months ago. One night he had cried when he realized just how quickly it was going. He was terrified for you, afraid one day, you wouldn’t walk through the door needing aid from your wounds. One day it would be Hopper, hat in his hands and offering his condolences. He had thought about going to the police so many times behind your back, but he’d loose you then. Was he being selfish?

“Please don’t hate me.” You cried emotionally, looking down to your shoes.

“Y/n,” He turned you gently, grabbing your chin. “I do not hate you.” His thumb traced your bottom lip, watching as you sniffled and cried, his other hand swiping away some tears that fell down your cheek. “Just calm down, honey.” He raised his chin to you, instructing softly. He didn’t want you to get yourself worked up like you usually did.

You breathed in the hands that held you upright, face beat red and blotchy. You body ached with pain and guilt. You wanted nothing more to curl up in his chest, but you fought the urge. He might not have wanted you too.

“What happened this time?” He said, reaching to the floor to hand you your shirt. “Was she drinking?”

You told him what happened, or lack of what happened. It was never really much of anything. She’d scream at you, call you names that you couldn’t repeat. Throw things and hit you. You said, nothing really, shrugging your shoulders. There was a time where Eddie would have demanded more of an answer, but he grew to realize that sometimes it never really was anything. That’s just how your mother was.

Eddie bit down hard on his lip, looking away from you to the kitchen. “Spend the weekend here with me. I don’t want you going back tonight.” He’d wanted you to move in with him for so long, but you never could leave your mother. He didn’t understand that, and your fought about it several times.

“Eddie?” You grabbed at his knee, eyes fearful and wide. “I really am sorry.”

He grabbed your hand and kissed it, but said nothing as he got up and disappeared into the bathroom. He couldn’t help it. With each time you came barging in during the night, day, whatever, it chipped away at his heart. He’d watched you change over the last year as your mother’s words became more harsh. You accepted the beatings more easily, but the way she spoke to you had taken it’s toll. He could see that clear as a bell.

Your self confidence had plummeted. You didn’t like to reveal any of your skin that you didn’t have to. You were much quieter than you used to be, only really speaking to him or some of the members of hellfire. Wayne, too, of course.

He was washing his hands, trying his best to not smash the mirror in front of him. He was being distant and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. How much longer until you’d have to undergo surgery? How much longer until the words hurt so bad you’d kill yourself just to get away from it? How much longer until he’d be standing by your grave?

He looked up to find tour reflection, tearful and afraid. He knew what you were thinking. You knew what he was thinking. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your lips to his back to hold him. He relaxed into your touch, hands still slightly wet from the sink.

“Don’t worry about me, Ed’.” You whispered. “I’ll be okay.”

His hands held yours above his stomach, staring at your sad reflection. “No, you won’t.” He answers honestly, a small shake of his head that you barely miss. “Don’t lie to yourself.”

You were always crying. You were always sad. You were always so heartbroken, a shell of what you once used to be.

“It’s just a cut.” You defended, causing him to shrivel under your touch and pull away, quickly drying his hands with a towel and leaving the bathroom.

“Don’t start that shit.” He said lowly, entering your bedroom. “It’s not a cut. It’s never just a cut. It’s so much more than that.”

“Okay, okay, well-” You started to rant, mouth opening but falling closed at a loss of words.

He waited for you to speak.

“I don’t know what to say.” You cross your arms defensively. “I just- I don’t want you to worry. I’m sorry I came here. I shouldn’t have.”

No. That’s the last thing he wanted you to think. You were always welcome and he would always look after you. He cursed under his breath, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “Baby, no, that’s not what I’m saying.” He comes to you, grabbing your shoulders.

He pulls you into his chest, you’re a blubbering, whimpering mess. He’s careful to not touch your bandage. “I can’t not worry about you, angel.” His voice is full and close to breaking.

“You don’t understand how hard it is for me to watch you suffer like this. I can’t stand to see you wither away.” His eyes tear up, holding the back of your head. “I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to keep quiet, sweetheart.”

You’re sobs increase and you’re grasping on to him for dear life.

“I know you love her, baby, but she’s not good for you.” His voice shakes and so does his bottom lip. “God, I wish I could just take you away.”

You’re too distraught to say anything. You hold him and he holds you.

•

“I’m done, y/n.” Eddie’s got angry tears falling down his face, voice filled with a rage full venom he was dying to take out on something, anything. “I’m done with this shit. Either you go to the police or I will.”

“Eddie, please!” You’re begging him, practically on your knees as you sob hysterically. “Please, don’t! I’m sorry! It won’t happen again, I swear it!”

“You say that every time!” He says incredulously, flaying his arms about like you’d gone mad. “And every time nothing changes!”

It had been bad this time. Your mom had said absolutely disgusting things to you, taking about your weight, making remarks about the way you talked and how Eddie was crazy for being with you. You’d made the mistake of trying to stand up to her. Your nose was most likely broken from being shoved into the wall, the crunch still loud in your ears that made you cringe from the memory. The blood had dried, but it hurt to breath. Your tears caused you immense pain from the weight of your cries, the heaves from your chest making your face ache.

Eddie stepped back and sobbed softly, holding his head with a hand and cursed. “Fuck.” He couldn’t hold back his emotions this time.

You brought up your hand to your mouth, trying your best to calm down, but it wasn’t doing much good. “Eddie, please!” You whimpered. “You can’t say anything. You swore!”

“I know I did!” He snapped, throwing down his arm. “You swore me to something that you shouldn’t have! Now I’m stuck watching you get beat on every day! Do you know what the hell that does to me?” He was shouting now, tears boiling down your face. You turned away from him and bawled.

In the moment, he wondered if he was any better than your mother, yelling at you and making you cry. Maybe later, he’d hate himself for it, but he couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“Look at this picture.” He tore out his wallet and flipped it open, taking out the polaroid of you that he kept in the first sleeve. “Look at how happy you were there.” It was only a few years ago, back when the antics of your mother began. You were smiling with full teeth, wearing a pretty pink dress and face decorated with happiness and joy.

“You see how different you look?” He held the picture to your face. “You’re too thin. You don’t eat. You’ve got bruises all over you. I haven’t seen you smile like that in years.”

Your nose started bleeding again, you could feel the cool, metallic taste of blood on your upper lip. Eddie watched it drop down, his tear falling in sync with your blood.

“You can’t make me keep doing this, y/n.” He said your, shaking his head and grasping at the picture. “I love you too much to watch you get hurt. I’m giving you a choice, darlin’. It’s either you or me.”

“No.” You shake your head. “She won’t survive in jail, Eddie! She needs me to take care of her!” Your chest heaves through tears, a panicked anxiety making you hysterical. “Please, Eddie, please!” You fall to the floor at his feet, grasping at his knees, begging him to forget it all. You had snot and blood, hot tears falling down your face, making your skin red and blotchy.

You pulled at him and sobbed, and Eddie just didn’t know what to do. Both of your hearts were breaking. He held his hands at your head, and he slowly looked up at the ceiling and cried with you. “I can’t do it anymore, baby.” He whimpered. “I need you safe. I can’t wait until it’s too late. I won’t have you dying on me.”

“Eddie, please!” You’re hysterical, squeezing his legs.

“If you hate me it’s okay.” He sniffles, wiping a hand over his face. “I just need you safe. That’s all I need.”

You grow angry at his defiance, pushing yourself off the ground. “I said no, Eddie! She’s my mother, not yours!” You spat, a sudden change of emotion that had him reeling back.

“Y/n, please.” He begged, closing his eyes. “I- I can’t. I just..I just can’t anymore. You’re asking me to do the impossible. Do I have to watch you be killed!” He shouts at the end, eyes burning red with angry, hurt tears.

“I’ll break up with you!” You scream, the ache in your nose making you groan. “I swear to god, Eddie, if you tell anyone we’re done!”

It all went silent. Eddie cried. You cried. Hearts were racing and limbs were trembling. He took a slow, deep breath. “I have to.” It was all he said, keeping his eye on you, but it was enough.

With a cold glare, you were slamming the door on the way out.

[hqbaby]

one — the aftermath

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

masterlist — next

word count. 1.9k content. profanity, talks of sex

Breakups suck, there’s no denying that. Especially when the breakup in question is with someone you thought was the love of your life. Someone you thought felt the same way about you.

When the breakup turns into some big revelation that you are in fact a fool for even believing in love in the first place—well, it’s safe to say that it doesn’t feel good.

But you know what makes a breakup even worse? Hearing that the person you broke up with has started dating someone new. Two weeks after your split.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Nobara declares as she stabs a slice of meat with her fork and shoves it in her mouth. Through a mouthful of food, she tells you, “I know friends aren’t supposed to say that kind of shit immediately after a breakup, but it’s true! He sucked!”

“He did not suck,” you tell her, and you know this is true. You remember just six months ago, Nobara was singing his praises, so glad that you were finally being “treated like the princess you are,” so you don’t really believe her sudden shift in perspective. “It just didn’t work out. It’s no big deal.”

Maki frowns at you, pointing her fork in your direction as she speaks. “Any guy who starts dating someone new two weeks after a breakup doesn’t deserve to be respected,” she says. “Slander him, babe. He deserves it.”

You can’t help but laugh as your two friends agree with one another, pointing out all the little things about your ex that they found “slightly off,” and how you’re so strong, how you’ll get through this like it’s nothing. You’re sure that when you met them in freshman year, you didn’t expect your friendship to turn into this, but you’re glad it has.

“So who’s the girl?” you ask as the conversation lulls.

“I don’t know,” they both answer in unison.

You roll your eyes. “You’re terrible liars.”

They look at each other for a moment. Nobara raises a brow, Maki shakes her head. Maki raises a brow, Nobara shrugs. They both sigh.

“It’s Kimi,” Maki tells you.

“The cheerleader?”

“Yeah.”

You prod a stray grain of rice on your plate then nod. “Okay,” you say. “Figured he’d go for someone like her.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Nobara says again.

You chuckle. “So I’ve heard.”

“Does it bother you?” Maki asks. Her tone is careful. She’s probably worried you’ll burst into tears or throw a fit.

“No,” you tell her simply. “It’s fine. He can do whatever he wants.”

You notice how they seem to breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe they’ve finally convinced themselves that you’re fine. You’re okay.

The three of you finish with your lunch and clear up the table. It’s become tradition for the two of them to show up at your apartment on Saturdays to eat together, mainly because you actually have a table to eat at. You also often have more than enough food to spare, what with your mother constantly sending care packages and your neighbor being an old woman who likes cooking enough food for an army.

It’s nice, these days you get to spend with your friends, and you’ve found that it’s been a real comfort these last two weeks. You’d never admit it out loud, but the breakup has been hard on you. More than it probably should be. Aside from the fact that you find yourself alone more often now, you’re also constantly reminded of his absence. And, boy, is it a terrifying thing to remember.

“Are you heading to practice?” Maki asks, drying her hands on a towel. “I can drop you off if you don’t wanna drive.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine,” you tell her. “Someone’s picking me up.”

“One of the girls?”

“Nah,” you say. “Sukuna.”

Nobara snorts as she places the last dish on the drying rack. “You sure his driver’s license isn’t suspended?”

You whack her shoulder with the dish towel in your hands. She yelps exaggeratedly and you laugh, apologizing as you rub her arm. “He’s really a good guy though,” you say. “You’re just way too hard on him.”

“Uh-huh,” Maki says, unconvinced as she crosses her arms and leans against the counter. “So the fact that he’s fucked half of the girls on campus is just a thing he does on the side.”

“Since when were you such a prude?” you ask, lips curling into a knowing smirk. “Just last week, you were all ‘everyone deserves the right to fuck.’”

Maki wags her finger at you. “This isn’t about being a prude,” she tells you. “The guy uses girls for his own pleasure. I just don’t see how you can be friends with him.”

“Well, I’ve known ‘the guy’ since high school. He really isn’t that bad,” you say. “And he only ever fucks people who want to be fucked, so I don’t see what the problem is.”

You’ve got a point there, Maki realizes, so she bounces on her toes and says, “Okay.” Then, “I’m still judging him though, but out of respect for you, I will do so in secret.”

You nudge her with your shoulder and chuckle. “I hear you though,” you tell her. “But trust me. He’s not a bad guy.”

“Where’s my kiss?”

“I will rip your balls off.”

Sukuna smirks at you as you hop into the passenger seat. His car is a mess, like it usually is, with old, disintegrating Slurpee cups and Monster cans littering the dashboard, receipts scattered on the floor, and what you suspect is a midterm with a big red C- stuffed into the open glove compartment.

You pick a half-empty bag of popcorn from your seat before sitting down. “This thing is gross, ‘Kuna,” you tell him, grimacing. “You should really get rid of all your trash at least.”

He sticks his tongue out at you and puts the car in gear. “What was that?” he says as he backs out of the parking slot. “‘Thank you for driving me, Kuna! I owe you a big favor!’ Oh, yeah, definitely, tiger.”

“You owe me,”  you point out, pulling your seatbelt on. “Need I remind you how many times I’ve had to drive you home from a party because you were wasted? Do I need to show you the pictures to jog your memory?”

“You are so mean,” he tells you. “How are you gonna get a husband with a mouth like that?”

You scoff. “Please,” you say. “My mouth is exactly why they’d marry me in the first place.”

Sukuna gags, pretending to vomit into his mouth. “Aren’t girls supposed to be all shy and quiet about that sort of thing?” he says. Then, his eyes light up in faux realization. “Oh, right! You’re not a girl. You’re some sort of monster that ate the real you.”

You reach over and flick his forehead before slumping back in your seat. When the car stops at a red light, his face charges towards yours, attempting to lick your cheek. You manage to push him away with the palm of your hand before he does.

“Eyes on the road, fuckhead,” you tell him, giggling as his face twists in disappointment. “You got plans later?”

“Yeah,” he says, smirking. “A blonde and a brunette. You know. The usual.”

You make a face. “You’re such a pig, you know that, right?”

“I prefer to think of myself as a connoisseur of sexual deviancy.”

“I feel so bad for the girls who fall for that.”

He beams. “Oh, I wouldn’t be. They like it just as much as I do.”

You shake your head in amusement and fold your arms over your chest, leaning your head against the window. You’re a few minutes away from the gym, the car already passing through the familiar grounds of the campus.

You pass by the steps of the science building. The place where it happened.

“We broke up,” you find yourself telling Sukuna quietly. “Two weeks ago.”

He’s silent for a moment. You can already tell he’s contemplating either listening to you and letting you vent or, well, murder.

“I figured,” he says eventually.

You peel your head away from the window and raise a brow at him. “How?”

He glances at you, as if to check that you’re okay. When he’s sure that you’re not upset or anything, he nods and says, “For one, you’re hanging out with me. If I remember correctly, Mr. Perfect doesn’t exactly like me.”

You scrunch your nose up. “That’s not true,” you tell him. And when he gives you a look like, Riiiiiight, you relent and say, “Fine. But that never stopped me from spending time with you.”

“Sure it did.”

You furrow your brows. “Don’t tell me you were jealous.”

“Sure I was.” He grins at you. “But enough about my feelings—because, ew, gross, feelings, yuck. What happened? Why’d you break up?”

You open your mouth to explain, but you realize you don’t exactly have the words to talk about it just yet. Whenever Maki and Nobara asked, you just gave them some vague reason and they knew not to press. If you said the same thing to Sukuna, you know he’d call you on your bullshit, and you don’t think you’re ready to confront “the truth” just yet.

He probably notices your hesitation, so he says, “You don’t have to tell me. I’m just curious.”

You smile at him. “Thanks.”

“‘Course, tiger,” he says. The car pulls up in front of the gym and he turns to look at you. As much as you two tease each other, you know that you can always count on each other when things aren’t exactly good. “I do have one question though that you’re required to answer.”

“What?”

“If I see him, do I punch him or run him over with my car?”

You groan and swat his arm. “Don’t you dare do anything,” you say, reaching over to grab your tennis bag from the backseat. “I mean it, ‘Kuna.”

“Hey, no one breaks up with my best friend and gets away with it,” he says. “So what will it be? Vehicular manslaughter or straight up murder?”

You frown at him. He matches your frown. You smile. “You know, a grown man probably shouldn’t be calling anyone his best friend,” you say, opening the car door. You get out and lean your head in through the window. “Thanks for driving me.”

He waves it off. “You can thank me by buying me dinner,” he tells you. “Text me when you’re done with practice. I’ll pick you up.”

“I thought you had plans tonight,” you say, tilting your head to the side as you step away from the car.

“Text me when you’re done,” he repeats, and he drives away before you can say another word.

You watch as his car turns a corner and disappears. He might not be a bad guy, but he sure is strange.

Sliding your tennis bag over your shoulders, you start your trek to the court. You haven’t been to practice in a while, only dragged here by your coach reminding you of your scholarship. You’re a little nervous to be back, but it’s really—

And that’s when you see him.

There, standing outside the doors to the gym, just as you remember him.

Satoru, the love of your life, kissing another girl.

Maybe you really aren’t fine at all.

notes. trying to contain my excitement for this series but it's not working!!!!! hope you guys enjoy it as much as i do <3

[pprodsuga]

our last summer | psh

summary: would it be enough if i could never give you peace?

notes: inspired by peace and august by taylor swift and our last summer by ABBA <3 love u forever, my darling sunghoon.

warnings: angst, fluff, nsfw: oral (m + f receiving), unprotected sex, dry humoring, dirty talk, fingering. :)

ahh this was only supposed to be a few thousand words but here we are at 19.4K ...

masterlist + add yourself to my taglist

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

The end of summer is when you start to feel it. 

The hot sun isn’t as inviting as it once was, with the promise of a limitless summer ahead of you before returning to university in the fall. Now, the sunny days feel bleak and lifeless despite the leftover flowers that have bloomed since spring. 

Sunghoon sleeps peacefully with his chest pressed against your mattress, his shirt long discarded from the night before as the warm sun peeks from the curtain shielding your windows. His lips form a pout with the way his cheek is pressed against the pillow as short warm breaths poke at your skin. 

It feels peaceful like this. You turn to face him and put your fingertips on his back to feel the warmth radiating from his body. The overhead ceiling fan blows cool air against his skin and the juxtaposition feels electric. Your hand moves up and down his body, memorizing every dip and pattern for memory’s keepsake. 

In the quiet of his slumber is when you write your name in invisible ink on the expanse of his skin. 

Your hand moves slowly to write in cursive. Sunghoon squirms beneath your touch, his body reacting to the way your fingers move along his muscular back. You don’t notice when he opens his eyes and watches your quiet behavior, but you hear how his breathing has changed and meet his gaze.

“Good morning,” you say to him without lifting your fingers.

“Morning,” he croaks, voice deep and raspy from a good night’s sleep. 

“Did you sleep well?” 

He nods. “Mhm. You put me to sleep, but it seems like I didn’t do a good job if you’re awake before me.”

“Two times means you did an incredible job, Hoon.” 

Sunghoon grins at you and maneuvers his body on top of yours, bringing his nose to touch yours as he smiles. “Wanna make it a third?” 

Despite two months of bedroom trysts, his stare still makes you shy. 

“But I’m getting hungry,” you deflect, breaking eye contact in an attempt to collect yourself. Sunghoon laughs. 

“So am I, and I know what I want for breakfast.” 

You let him push his head to your bare cunt and watch as he moves the blankets out of the way. It feels like it’s getting warmer in the room but it very well could be because your body ignites into flames when Sunghoon’s hands pry your legs apart to present yourself to him. 

He looks at you like it’s the first time all over again, as if it were that night in June when the two of you found yourselves at the same bonfire party to celebrate the start of the summer season. Everyone who left for university had come home and drank underneath the twinkling stars that painted the night sky in a pattern you’d seen a thousand times. 

Sunghoon could only remember your face when he closed his eyes and guessed correctly that you were the person who sat next to him in your shared literature class before graduating, one he never seemed to pay any attention to. You’d grown out of your introverted shell, unlike when you were back in high school, and asked him what he’d been up to since he left. He told you as if the two of you were friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while. You knew his stories but you listened with careful intent because his glossy eyes and his unwavering attention made you feel important. 

You aren’t sure how the two of you ended up as connected as you are. You’d argue Sunghoon knows your body better than you do and that the past couple of months, littered with secret kisses and his hands around your waist, has been the best summer of your life. 

Even with Sunghoon’s fingers prying your pussy open and with his tongue inside of you, the two weeks you have before returning to university is the only thing you can think about. 

Your thoughts drift in and out between focusing on the pleasure he’s giving you coupled with what will happen when the two of you are forced to participate in everyday student life, away from your hometown to face responsibilities. It’ll be your last year, too, and what of the moment when the two of you cross your tassels over your graduation cap? 

Sunghoon’s fingers take your mind off of that thought for a moment. His fingers slide up and down your wet slit and you push his hair from his forehead to see his eyes stare at the mess like he’s never seen you like this before.  

“Have you finished packing?” he asks before bending down to kiss the soft skin of your inner thigh. “My parents keep texting me to do it.” 

“Halfway done,” you say breathlessly. 

“Me too.” Sunghoon’s hair makes your body lurch forward but he uses his strong arms to hold you in place. “Gonna miss summer break when we go back.” 

You don’t say anything. It’s too much for you to think about, especially when the man between your legs is the most handsome and angelic looking boy you have ever seen in your life. Sunghoon gets so lost in your pleasure that he periodically licks his lips at the sight of your pussy exposed to him, paying attention to nothing but your clit that he loves to call pretty. 

“Your pussy gets so wet every time,” he says as his finger flicks your clit back and forth before his mouth presses a chaste kiss on the bud. “It’s so sexy.” 

“You know how to use your mouth well,” you praise. Sunghoon grins at your words and hums when your fingers scratch his head as his tongue dives back into your core. 

He’s slow with it, unlike the night prior when he had asked to come over with a tent already visible in his pants. Sunghoon takes his time dragging his tongue all over you as if he’s trying to commit the way you taste to memory. His tongue works expertly to reach where your own fingers can’t and you can hear him chuckle from below you when your back arches from a particular sensation. 

Sunghoon’s hands support you, sliding from your thighs to grip your hips as you push your pussy into his face. You feel him hum against you as you press yourself into him and if there’s one thing you can infer from your bedroom holidays, it’s that your pleasure brings Sunghoon his. 

You come undone a few minutes later as he coaxes you through it, gently licking you clean until your release has been swallowed by him. Sunghoon peppers small kisses along your thighs as a silent praise for a job well done for letting him take you the way he wants, his hands smoothing over your body to grip your breasts before moving his way on top of you. 

The kiss is slow like two lovers on borrowed time. Sunghoon’s body slips between your legs as your hands come to cup his jawline with your own hands, pushing your lips against his swollen ones. He kisses you like time does not exist and the world outside remains still despite hearing the sounds of birds chirping from just outside of your window. 

Sunghoon gasps into the kiss when your hips meet his, forcing his cock to situate itself between your bodies. He’s hard from a mixture of tasting you in his mouth and humping the bed when he heard your breaths become shallow before eventually releasing all you had to offer. You push yourself against him until you elicit a deep moan from the back of his throat. 

“Thought you were hungry,” he whispers against your ear, kissing the skin below it as his hips move until his cock is sliding between your folds. 

“Breakfast can wait.” Your hands smooth themselves over his toned body and arms, squeezing his biceps as he raises his chest to see where you two meet. 

“Is my pretty girl worked up?” Sunghoon teases with a breathy tone. His hardness matches your arousal and the erotic sound of wetness splashing has him pushing the tip of his cock against your clit. 

“Just a little bit,” you say coyly. “I wanna feel you.” 

Sunghoon sinks himself into you without a second thought.

“I want to feel you too.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

You avoid talking to Sunghoon about the upcoming fall semester. You’re not sure if he can tell that your mind has been preoccupied with the future because he seems so content in the present, spending his free time with you when he isn’t with his other friends and family. 

It’s almost unfair how handsome he looks when the sun kisses his skin. Its golden hues emphasize his sharp jaw and brown eyes that resemble comfort underneath the warm light. 

The way he looks reminds you of when you’d use to see him around school before moving away to college. Sunghoon was always revered by his classmates for his astonishingly good looks with his hair always falling into place like dominoes. 

He was a household name for more reasons than one. Sunghoon’s figure skating career was at an all time high during his third year of high school, often having missed classes for competitions. He was all the girls could talk about in between classes and it was like the community around you built an invisible shrine to illustrate how worthy everyone thought him to be. 

You were never friends with him as his popularity was a bit too out of reach for you, back when everybody cared about the superficial. But Sunghoon lived towards the end of the block where you’d see him leave for practice or come home late through your bedroom window since you were a kid. Your classmates were right to praise him for his tenacity and resilience, although you had a sneaking suspicion that they did so because he was incredibly good looking with rumors of having a very successful figure skating career in a few year’s time. 

You didn’t see it that way. The two of you were not friendly by any means, but you could see the weight of the world on his shoulders when he’d come home after a long day at the ice rink. You could hear fragments of conversations, namely how hard it was to balance schoolwork, college applications, and a career he wasn’t sure he was ready to commit to. 

University was right around the corner and he itched to experience life that didn’t surround figure skating. It always felt like silent, one-sided support on your end as you’d hear Sunghoon talk to his parents on his way inside of the house. It felt like you were getting to know the person he was when he wasn’t smiling for the camera or for people who liked him for the attention. Still, you’re sure Sunghoon had no idea who you were until just before the summer of your last year of college. 

The news that he would retire from professional skating rocked the community but people were supportive of his decision to pursue a degree. He left the small town behind to pursue a life in Seoul, not for his ice skating career, but to get a taste of what his life could look like.

Then, he met you. 

You’re still somewhat astonished that he knew who you were, given that you hadn’t spoken much in the years you lived in his neighborhood. Sunghoon made an effort to wave at you in passing and talk to you, going so far as to introduce you to his friends when he had spotted you sitting by yourself in the cafeteria. Heeseung, Jay, and Jake were smitten by your humble nature and were too eager to listen to stories about their best friend in a time where they did not know him. Thinking about that period of your life makes your stomach turn. 

Sunghoon kisses your cheek when you both exit your house. His car is parked out front and he opens the door for you before getting inside himself. The weekend is unpromising, as most are, and you find yourself wondering what Sunghoon has planned for the day. 

“I see the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours,” Sunghoon comments as he drives out of your street. He puts his hand on your thigh and caresses you with his thumb. “Are you doing okay?”

“Yes,” you lie. “I think I’m still waking up.” 

Sunghoon laughs. “Even after I’ve been inside of you?” He watches you blush from the corner of his eye, squeezing your thigh when he hears you stutter over your words. 

“Yes,” you mumble. “Even after all of that.” 

“Good think I’m planning on getting coffee,” he tells you, diverting his attention back to the road. “I could use a pick me up.” 

Sunghoon pays for your beverages and encourages you to pick out a pastry despite having had a small breakfast at his place. He tells you to stand away from the crowd gathering around the hand off station. Watching him with his back turned to you, patiently waiting for his order, feels extremely familiar because of how frequent Sunghoon has taken you out this summer. You don’t think you’ve ever spent time with him like this before the two of you left to go back home for the break.

“For you,” Sunghoon says, pulling you out of your thoughts. You drink the ice cold liquid and feel the unnerving thoughts wash out of you with the first sip, willing yourself to be present. 

“Thanks, Hoon. Got anything else planned for today?”

He bites into a croissant. “The rink I used to skate at has a half price day today. I was thinking we could spend the next hour or two there.”

“Why, so you could show off in front of me?” Sunghoon knocks your knee with his when he sees your lip quirk upwards. 

“I know you’re curious.” You can’t fault him there. 

“Mm, that I am. I can’t say I’m at your level but I can stand on my own two feet without needing to hold onto the rail.” 

“I’m rusty,” he says. “I haven’t been on the ice in forever.”

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine.” 

“Besides,” Sunghoon says after taking another bite, “I want to see you stumble around like a penguin.” 

“I told you, I’m decent,” you huff. “I used to go to the rink with my cousin when we were kids and I used to see you warming up.”

“Oh, you did?” 

“Only sometimes. We usually went on the weekends in the morning to avoid the crowd.” 

Sunghoon nods. “Yeah, that sounds about right. In the first few years of training, I’d have to be at the rink when people were waking up. I wish I could’ve seen you there.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “We weren’t really friends until this year.”

“Still, it would’ve been nice to have seen you.” 

Sunghoon’s words make your heart lurch. You can’t stop yourself from thinking about it.

“We didn’t run in the same circles back in high school, did we?” you ask him to quell his dampened expression, knocking Sunghoon’s knee like he did with you. “You were definitely more popular between us two.” 

“Popular is definitely a word,” he says, biting the end of his straw. “I think people liked that I was on national TV. I couldn’t go a day without people saying something about it.”

“You worked hard to get there. I understand why you were the talk of the town.” 

He shrugs. “I guess so. It was hard to balance school and my career. I felt like a walking zombie every time I’d show up to class.” 

“From where I stood, I can definitely say that look worked for you.” 

Sunghoon raised his eyebrow at you. “Oh? And were you looking?”

You roll your eyes. “These are things I’ve heard other people say.”

“Right, right,” he says with a mischievous grin like he doesn’t believe you. 

“Whatever,” you mumble, praying that your cheeks would cool down. “God, I don’t think I went an hour without hearing someone talk about you.”

“Yeah. I remember a bunch of people I didn’t know coming up to me like we’d been friends since birth.” 

“That had to feel weird.” 

“It was weird. Definitely weird. I’d eat lunch and some kid would ask me how practice was going.”

“Then what?” you ask.

“I’d tell them my practice schedule and say I’m hoping for good scores for my next competition.” 

“You definitely could’ve been an idol in another life,” you tease. “You were so good at giving vague answers that satisfied people.” 

Sunghoon shrugs. “Nah, not for me. You know, I don’t think I had any real friends, though. Just people who thought my career path was cool.” 

It hurts to hear it when you recall the nights seeing Sunghoon come home past his bedtime and then in class the next morning. He always looked just shy of collapsing, but that attitude was what the girls were into back then. For you, however, it seemed almost worrisome.

“I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “I don’t know if you remember, but sometimes I’d hang out on my balcony and watch the neighborhood. Most nights I saw you come home late from practice and I always wondered how you did all of it without breaking a sweat. Even when we had literature together, I wished we were close enough so that I could’ve asked you if you were okay without sounding like a deranged fangirl.” 

You try not to wince with embarrassment at your long confession. Sunghoon looks at you with an expression you can’t read, blinking at you as if he’s thinking about what to say next. He remains silent. 

“Well, I think we should head over.” You abruptly stand and throw your empty pastry bag into the trash can next to you and try to keep a loose grip on your cup despite your chest caving. “I want to be impressed by your fancy moves.” 

“I can do that,” he tells you, coming out of his daze when he registers that you’ve moved spots. You push the uneasy feeling out of your mind, pretending you didn’t make things awkward between the two of you. 

“If you fall in your face, I’ll deduct a point.”

Sunghoon laughs. “I’ll be sure not to fall. I think my time training has prepared me for this.” 

You don’t say another word as Sunghoon throws his trash away. You want to hang your head in shame and ask Sunghoon to drive you home so that you can wallow in your misery, alone in your bedroom. But he jogs ahead of you to open the door, allowing you to step out before him. You thank him with a meek voice and swallow when you notice your throat has run dry. 

When you approach the passenger side of his car, Sunghoon opens the door for you. You’re about to step inside when he pulls you into him. You feel his other hand on your waist when he pushes his lips against your own. 

His mouth tastes like coffee and the cold sensation of the ice from the drink makes your body shiver. Sunghoon tilts his head and angles himself to push harder against you, squeezing your body with his fingertips before pulling away to see the dazed look in your eyes. Sunghoon chuckles when you look at him, using his thumb to wipe the spit that has collected on your bottom lip. 

“I always saw you on your balcony,” Sunghoon says before leaning in to steal another kiss. He opens his eyes only after he’s pulled away once again, and you see the way he struggles to keep himself composed. “I would never think you’re a deranged fangirl, by the way.” 

You struggle to find the words to speak. He grins at you like he’s proud to have caught you off guard, opening the door wider while pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before encouraging you inside the vehicle. He closes the door and you sit with your mouth slightly ajar when he turns on the engine. 

Sunghoon breathes a laugh and places his hand on your thigh before heading to the ice rink, leaving you astounded and wondering if you were dreaming.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

It’s the last Wednesday before the two of you go back to university. 

You’re both arriving separately with your parents and belongings in tow, respectively. It’s been convenient that your family has been on a summer vacation of their own, leaving just after you and Sunghoon had started fooling around, and arriving within two days to drive with you back to school. His parents have been running all over Korea to support his younger sister’s traveling performances in dance. He’s attended a few of her competitions around the country a few times, and even invited you to see one or them with him when she was back in town. 

Otherwise, the two of you spend every waking moment together. The only time you’d spend apart is when he’d leave to watch his sister dance or when you had your shifts at a family-friend’s dumpling shop. Even when you’d see a few friends from back home, it seemed to end with Sunghoon in your bed more often than not.  

Dusk has settled on the tail end and the sun is almost disappearing. A wave of anxiety washes over you when Sunghoon suggests that you stay at his house longer after having spent the day using his pool. You brought a change of clothes and Sunghoon offered the shower to you. When you say yes, he tells you to go first. 

This isn’t your first time using his bathroom by any means, but it’s your first time being completely naked without the pretext of having sex. Suddenly, you smell like Sunghoon because of his shampoo and body wash. You smell of sandalwood and cinnamon, the kind that reminds you of when your face is pressed close to his. 

The intensity of your feelings becomes apparent when you dry your hair to the best of your ability with the towel he gave you. You put your clothes on and wring out any water from your bathing suit before looking at yourself in the mirror. 

You’ve never spent time in his home like this. You know his bedroom well enough, but it’s usually your house that the two of you hang out in. Sunghoon is the one who comes over, unannounced or not, and he’s the one who brings a change of clothes over just in case the two of you grow tired from talking or otherwise. 

It feels strangely comfortable to be alone in his bedroom’s bathroom unsupervised. But it’s a feeling you wish would go away because neither you nor Sunghoon have talked about what will happen when you return to university. Instead, you suck in a breath and force yourself outside. 

“Took you long enough,” Sunghoon teases when you emerge from his room and into the kitchen. He has a cherry popsicle in his hand to combat the hot weather that has made his mouth look red. 

“You told me to take my time, so that’s what I did,” you retort as you walk closer. You stand before him and he looks at you with a mischievous grin before your eyes dart to the popsicle in his hand. 

“You want one?” he asks.

“Yes, please.” 

“Open wide.” 

You barely register his command when he gently pushes the cool popsicle to your lips, beckoning you to open your mouth. The ice melts against you when it enters inside and your mouth closes against the popsicle when you feel the melted juices begin to run down your chin. 

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers lowly, eyes focused on your mouth and the way your cheeks hollow. “Tastes good, yeah?” 

“Mhm,” you mutter with it in your mouth. 

Sunghoon pulls the stick from you and continues looking at your red lips and tongue like he’s mesmerized. He looks at you after you’ve bitten your bottom lip and puts the stick in your hand. 

“I’m going to shower,” he says. “You can have the rest.” 

Sunghoon walks away without so much as another word, leaving you equally breathless and turned on. Did Sunghoon mean to leave you like this? He loves to tease you and will always finish his remarks with a kiss to your lips or forehead. But this time, he left without that familiar kiss and it looked like Sunghoon was rushing to the bathroom. 

With a slight boost in your ego, you put the popsicle back into your mouth and suck on it until all that remains is the stick and the taste of wood. 

Sunghoon isn’t in the shower for long. You don’t know what washes over you when you enter his bedroom after hearing the water turn off. When he exits his bathroom, his hair is still damp and his skin glistens from the water. His towel hangs low on his hips and you can see every ridge, curve, and divet on his body. It makes your mouth water and you’re stunned when he meets your eyes. 

“It’s a good flavor, right?” Sunghoon asks after a moment of quiet. 

“What?” 

“The popsicle,” he says with a tick in his voice. “It was good, wasn’t it?” You look at him when he takes a step forward. 

“The best,” you barely manage to say.

You swallow when his steps reach just an inch from where you are. Sunghoon looks at you through his eyelashes and waits for you to say something with the side of his face quirks in amusement. His dimple peeks out and the canines of his teeth that you’ve become fully obsessed with are on full display. 

Sunghoon leans forward until his lips barely touch yours, eyes flickering down to stare at your mouth. That sensation has you gasping against him, the warm air making him chuckle just enough for him to poke his tongue out and gently lick over your bottom lip. 

“Mm,” Sunghoon hums. “You taste like cherry.” 

He pulls you by your waist and pushes you flush against his body. His strong arms keep you caged into him while your own flail at the sudden movement. You settle by putting your palms against his shoulders and holding on like you’re afraid you’ll fall if you don’t find your balance. Sunghoon pulls you closer to his mouth and makes you stand on your toes just to keep up with him as his mouth invades your personal space.

The kiss is warm and audible. His tongue pushes against yours and his teeth are nearly knocking into yours as you gain your momentum and recover from the shock of his actions. You grow wetter when you realize Sunghoon’s still damp from his shower, the droplets of water from his hair falling onto your arms like they’re meant to keep you aware of what’s happening. 

Without detaching himself from you, Sunghoon sits on the bed with his towel still on and pulls your body so that you’re sitting on his lap. His arms are securely behind you and your back arches when he caresses your spine. 

You suck on his tongue as he kneads the flesh of your ass, gently encouraging you to rock yourself on his body. The two of you moan into each other’s mouths breathlessly when you part for a few seconds of fresh air. Your hands grab his neck as you hold him in place like you’re afraid he’ll vanish if you don’t hold onto him tight enough.  

He grows hard underneath you in record speed as you keep rising from his lap to kiss him deeper, followed by pushing yourself onto him to relieve friction. Sunghoon grunts against you and slaps your left ass cheek in retaliation when you put more pressure on his throbbing cock. 

It’s then when you open your eyes and pull back. Sunghoon keeps his eyes closed momentarily, too lost in the high of his euphoria until he realizes your mouth isn’t on his anymore. His eyelashes make him look celestial, the mole on his cheek too tempting for you not to kiss. But you refrain, holding yourself steady as you try to keep your composure. 

“It’s late,” you whisper. 

“And?” he asks, catching his breath. 

“We have to finish packing,” you reason, although you don’t think you believe in yourself when you say it.

“You have all weekend,” he pleads. Sunghoon holds you with one arm and brushes your hair from your face with his free hand. “What’s going on in that head of yours, baby?”

You bite your lip as he stares at you and it’s jarring to see his careful eyes look at you while he remains exceptionally hard beneath you. Sunghoon squeezes his hand on your waist as gentle encouragement and you watch him tilt his head like he’s listening. 

“I…,” you falter. Sunghoon’s stare is too intense. You look beside him and focus on the blankets that cover his mattress. “We go back to school soon, Hoon. I guess I’m just nervous about what’s gonna happen.” 

“What do you mean by that?”

You bite your lip. “Dunno. I think I’m just nervous for the future. One last year and everything is uncertain.” 

Sunghoon can sense that you’re not telling him the whole truth but he doesn’t pry you to say anything else. He has his own fears about his future as well, and the relationship he’s built with you over the summer has done wonders to quell his worries. But that too is coming to an end. His half-packed belongings sit in another room for him to worry about at a later time.

You feel his lips make contact with your own, this time kissing you with less fervor than before. The kiss feels like a silent reassurance that everything will be okay. Sunghoon lingers for a few seconds before pulling back, just to push himself forward to press more kisses onto your lips until you’ve melted against him. 

“I just want you to be okay,” Sunghoon mumbles between kisses. 

“It’s late,” you say again, hands bracing his chest.

“You could always stay here for the night,” he says. 

“I wouldn’t want to bother you.” Sunghoon places both of his hands on your waist and gives you a squeeze, looking into your eyes. 

“I want you to stay,” he tells you. “Please stay the night.” 

You deliberate for a moment only to nod and relent. Sunghoon grins, pressing forward to kiss you again. He tastes so fresh after his shower, lips supple and plump as the heat from the water still radiates from his skin. You try not to think about his sculpted chest and toned arms but that does nothing for you when you feel Sunghoon’s lips on your neck. 

He chuckles when he hears you gasp. It drives him to put small kisses all over the expanse of your neck, alternating between kissing you and leaving small kitten licks across your skin. The wetness of his saliva makes your arousal pool in your panties and his hair, still wet from his shower, caresses your skin too. 

Sunghoon grunts against your jawline when you push your body against his, feeling his hard outline against your core. Sunghoon bucks his hips when he feels you and curses when you push him off of your neck to sink to your knees.

“Fuck, baby,” he says. Sunghoon watches as you undo the towel and push the fabric aside until his cock becomes accessible to you, spreading his legs so you can situate yourself between them.

The gasp Sunghoon emits when you lick him from his balls to his tip is enchanting. He looks down at you like it’s the first time he’s seeing you be like this for him, especially when you steady your hands on his thighs and kiss the soft skin there. 

You envelop the tip in your mouth and let your tongue dance on the slit a few times before swirling your wet muscle around him. Sunghoon lets out a low groan when your nails caress his thighs too, cock twitching in your mouth and prompting you to take another inch. 

He’s rock hard in record time. Sunghoon doesn’t care about that right now, not when you’ve decided to push your head down and engulf half of him with your tongue running over his veins and his sensitive points. 

“You’re so good at this,” he praises. Sunghoon’s palms lay flat on the mattress as his eyes lazily see you through his pleasured expression. “Can you make it messy for me? I wanna see how messy you can be.”

You look up at Sunghoon, who has his bottom lip between his teeth. He looks like an Adonis type with his perfect body and hair falling over his eyes. You do as he says, pulling yourself off of him to gather saliva before letting your spit fall on his cock. He moans when he feels it dripping down him and at the sight of it falling from your mouth. Sunghoon is pleased when you push your head down until he feels the back of your throat, even more so when he feels spit gathering at the base and sliding down to his balls. 

You pull yourself off of him just to repeat the process over and over again until Sunghoon is a loud, unholy mess above you. He nearly orgasms when he feels your hands massage his balls but tries to prolong his pleasure. 

“You’re so nasty,” he whispers like he’s in disbelief. The sounds of your throat gagging around his cock turn him on and he grips the bed sheets below when you look up at him with him inside your mouth. Your head moves in quick succession to amplify the noise, letting yourself become lost in the feeling of pleasuring Sunghoon. 

“Ah, fuck,” he cursed when your tongue works his underside. “I’m gonna cum.” 

It doesn’t take him long to finish soon after that. He gives you enough warning time to pull your head away but stares down at you with an open jaw when you grip his base and keep his cock situated in your mouth as he comes. 

He watches you close your eyes the moment his come seeps into your tongue and the way you hum around him as you clean him up. Sunghoon’s hips buckle and he does his best to keep his body upright to watch you lick his orgasm. Your mouth constructs around his cock and you continue to glide your tongue over him until there’s no evidence of his come left. 

“You’re perfect.” Sunghoon praises you as he helps you stand from your spot on the floor, turning you around to pull your shorts and panties off while you take off your top and fling it haphazardly. 

Sunghoon spreads your ass in front of him, staring at your body in wonder. Your wetness becomes apparent to him when the light glistens against it and you hear him curse, prompting you to look back at him. You feel Sunghoon gather your arousal on his hand before grabbing cock and pleasuring himself with all you have to offer him. Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head.  

“I’ll eat you out in a second,” he swears to you as he meets your eye. “Please let me put it in for a little bit. I need to feel your pussy around me.” 

You maneuver to sit back on his lap as he holds you in place with one arm, gripping his still-hardened cock to align with your entrance with his other. The tip grazes your slit, pulling a moan out of you. His warmth feels incredible, almost as if a fire has been lit inside of you with his cock acting as the match. The collective gasp is the only sound heard in the silence of his room. You sink on his cock slowly as you adjust to his size, watching the way his eyebrows furrow like he’s concentrating on the pleasure you bring him.. 

You feel whole and complete when you’re like this. Sunghoon’s quietness tells you he’s savoring the feeling too. His breathing is warm as it hits your chest and you look beneath you to see the ends of his hair tickling your breasts. Sunghoon is dry for the most part, save for his still-damp hair, but he looks like an angelic creature who fell from Heaven when you fully seat yourself on his cock. 

Sunghoon moves your body up and down slowly. His hands never stray from your soft skin as your ass meets his thighs. The sensation is incredibly wet and warm, the shock of pleasure shooting from your spine all the way to your toes. He moves you in a quicker pace gradually to build the momentum until he breathes quiet gasps when the flesh of your ass smacks against his skin. 

Your own wanton moans come unexpectedly as he pushes himself deeper into you. Sunghoon has never been this sensual with you either. He’s more vocal than he is now, just shy from an animalistic howl with witty remarks when you’re either too bashful to look him in the eye as he fucks you or when you talk back to him when you know you shouldn’t. This feels almost too raw and natural. It feels like he’s trying to tell you something but you’re too in your head to know what he’s trying to say.

By the time you’re bouncing on him with your hands placed on his chest to keep yourself balanced, you’re wondering how he’s strong enough to support himself on his palms while you ride him like it’s all you know. Sunghoon nods at you, drunk on the euphoria with every plunge you take. He hisses when you clench around him and pulls you off of his body to pin you underneath him, lips pressed against yours in a heated kiss.

“Don’t wanna cum yet,” he mutters against your lips before dragging them down to your neck. “I promised to eat you out, didn’t I?” 

He doesn’t give you the chance to respond. Sunghoon attaches his mouth to your right nipple and licks over your bud until he’s satisfied with how wet it’s become before moving to the neglected one, this time sucking with his tongue flicking over it until your hips push against him. 

Sunghoon lets go and with his hands massaging your chest, he maneuvers down to press a little kiss to your slit. He’s pleased when your body reacts accordingly, arching to push your core towards his face. His hands pinch your nipples before sliding them down your body to grip your ass, pulling you closer to his mouth when he pushes his tongue inside of you.

Your hands fly to grip his hair from the sudden and welcomed intrusion. Sunghoon’s tongue darts in and out of you while his hands massage you from behind. The angle has your chest pushed towards the ceiling as high as you’ll go with your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His wet tongue feels smooth and divine as he brings it to glide over your wet folds, collecting your arousal and drinking it like it’s nectar from the gods. 

His nose bumps your clit and you push your pussy into his face when he surges forward. Sunghoon’s growls into your body make your toes curl against his back. Your mouth hangs open as moan after moan falls from your lips and it seems as though your body knows no self control when it comes to the boy below you. 

“I love your mouth,” you confess with the tug of his hair at the same time an overwhelming, emotional sensation washes over. You don’t say what you mean, but it’s enough for now. 

“I love the sounds you make,” Sunghoon says as he parts from your core. He flattens his tongue to lick up your slit in rapid succession, watching your arousal and his spit drag from your pussy to his tongue.

“You sound like a fucking porn star when I eat you out.” 

“You’re that good,” is all you manage to say when he flicks your clit with his tongue. “I love your mouth but I want your cock.”

“Princess gets whatever she wants.”

Sunghoon pushes himself until he’s hovering over you. He bends down to suck on your nipples before bringing his mouth to your own, kisses you with his hands braced beside you on the mattress. Sunghoon uses his hands to position you how he likes before spreading his own legs to guide his cock into your entrance, allowing himself to push the tip inside of you. 

He inches inside of you little by little, watching the micro expressions on your face when you close your eyes to focus on the pleasure. You feel his fingers brushing the hair from your forehead as he coos and whispers sweet praises about how well you’re taking his cock and how good you feel around him. 

When Sunghoon is fully sheathed inside of you, he pulls your arms around his shoulders and thrusts inside of you so deeply that you’re sure he’s reached your guts. He can feel your tits against his chest as he pushes his hips forward. The moans he hears from you sound like music to his ears and motivate him to thrust into you deeper to continue pulling those delicious sounds out of you.

It feels so good and so deep that it brings tears to the corners of your eyes. Your heart swells when you think about how mind blowing his cock is making you feel and you start to wonder if this is the last time you’ll ever be able to feel Sunghoon like this. The lone tear strays and falls from the corner or your eye until you produce a few more droplets when Sunghoon lifts his body upwards to push himself down onto you. 

You let out a deep, melodic moan that has Sunghoon’s hips stuttering. He looks up from where his head is placed on your neck to see your reddening eyes and furrows his brows quizzically, preparing himself to stop until you shake your head. 

The two of you have never been as silent as you are now. Instead, you let the wet smacks and breathless moans do the speaking for you. Sunghoon leans down to kiss your tear-stained cheeks, and it’s this sheer intimate act that makes you lose yourself around him. 

He slows his pace when he feels you coming undone around him, watching as your chest rises and as it deflates as you come down from your high. It washes over you like an ocean wave, so intensely before it quells around you. Sunghoon finds himself in a similar state until he releases inside of you with a low grunt and his lips on your very own. 

The two of you remain still as you catch your breaths. Sunghoon pulls out slowly and promises to come back with a warm cloth. He comes back once he’s cleaned himself up and gently swipes the cloth over your body to clean any remnants of cum from between your legs before tossing it in his hamper and handing your discarded clothes back to you. 

Sunghoon comes back to bed with boxers and a pair of plaid pajama pants when you blink out of tiredness. He coos at your innocence in this moment before bending down to kiss you while he climbs into bed. Sunghoon turns off the lamp that lights his room and watches as everything falls dark, the light from outside of his window being the only light illuminating over your face. 

He pulls you into him and kisses you slowly. When he hears you yawn, Sunghoon kisses both of your eyelids and promises for the last time that he wants you to stay over until the morning. 

“We’ll be okay, right?” 

Sunghoon stills at your question. You sound too far gone to realize what you’re saying as you nuzzle against his body. When he looks down at you, all he sees is your eyelashes fluttering as you close your eyes and the way your lips form a small pout as you attempt to fall asleep. He doesn’t say anything, choosing to squeeze your body closer to him. 

With one final kiss, he tucks his chin on the top of your head and his fingers caress over your back until the promise of sleep comes before you.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

The first week back at university is hectic. 

Your parents said goodbye as your other roommates, Yuna and Ryujin, arrived at your shared apartment. It was nice to see them again after months of only being able to text them because of the distance, and having them with you as your parents left was an added bonus to your weekend. 

You and Sunghoon don’t text much during this time. You ask him if he’s settled in yet, to which he sends a photo of his friends Jay and Jake wrestling in their living room. You react by laughing at the image and that’s the last you hear from him for a while. You don’t expect to hear from him, as you also haven’t been reaching out that much either, due to moving your belongings into your shared apartment and getting ready for the first week of the semester. 

It’s the night before classes begin when Yuna sits down next to you as you watch anime on the shared TV, stealing the pint of cream out of your hands. 

“I can’t believe you were fucking Park Sunghoon over the summer.” You barely react to her taking the ice cream out of your hands and let her have it, grinning in amusement. 

“Stealing my food out of my hands is something I oddly missed in the three months I haven’t seen you.”

“Don’t change the subject,” she says in a way that makes you think she’s trying to be intimidating. The spoon in her mouth isn’t helping her case. “You and Park Sunghoon. You know, the Sunghoon who you had a major crush on in high school but didn’t know you existed until earlier this year?”

“Okay, you really didn’t have to do all of that.” 

“Uh, yes I did.” Yuna shoves another spoonful in her mouth. “I simultaneously want to hear everything about it and nothing at all.” You laugh and steal the ice cream back from her. 

“I couldn’t tell you how it happened, honestly. We didn’t start seeing each other until we both settled back home. I kind of missed being in a place where I know it could’ve been just us two.”

“What about your parents?”

“Gone on a trip for the latter half of summer,” you tell her. “Sunghoon’s parents were traveling with his sister across Korea for dance competitions. It was the perfect set up, if you think about it.”

“God, he’s hot, isn’t he?” she coaxes. “I could totally see he had a thing for you the night you two reconnected. Everyone kept trying to get his attention off of you but he just ignored people who weren’t you.”

“Oh, that’s true.”

“Totally is,” Yuna says with a nod. “I bet it I asked Jake if Sunghoon’s whipped for you, he’d say yes.” You put ice cream in your mouth to suppress a grin. 

“Don’t put delusions in my head.” You look at Yuna. “But do you really think so?”

“The way you were describing your summer fling with Sunghoon made it sound like you guys were dating, Y/N. I know you don’t bullshit your way into delusions like the rest of us either.” 

“He really was a perfect gentleman,” you tell her. “My parents came home when he dropped me off after we hung out and Sunghoon stayed over for dinner until I had to finish packing. It was weirdly domestic.”

“That’s your boyfriend, is all I’m saying.”

You smack her arm. “Quit it.”

“Have you guys been texting since you got back?”

“Not really, but I didn’t think we would be. It’s the first week back and we’re both super busy, you know? I’m sure he’s catching up with his friends and spending time with them since he’s been away all summer. Hoon views my Instagram stories and that’s enough for right now.”

“I don’t know whether you’re trying to convince yourself you’re okay or if you’re actually fine with it.” 

“I’m fine, honest,” you say truthfully. “I mean, I’m busy getting back into the groove of university and entertaining you and Ryujin since your favorite pastime seems to be bothering me.” Yuna rests her head on your shoulders and takes the pint of ice cream back to her. 

“Oh yeah, I definitely missed you.” 

You put your head on top of hers. “I missed you too, Yuna. But seriously, I’m okay.” 

“Did you guys talk about it at all?”

You keep quiet for a moment. “Not really. I was anxious about it the last few weeks of summer but there never seemed to be a right time to talk. We’ve been friendly since our parents came back home so we obviously had to stop fooling around.”

“Still, though. Are you guys like…dating?” 

Yuna doesn’t see your eyes fall. 

“No, we’re not dating.” 

“Hm,” she ponders. “Well he should wife you up soon or else I’ll do it.” 

“We’re already locked in,” you tease her with the hope that this sinking feeling vanishes. 

“Ryujin’s our third,” Yuna says matter-of-factly. “Or, she will be whenever she comes back with dinner.” 

“I missed you guys, I really did. Being back at home was nice and all but I miss going out with you two and staying in all weekend to watch marathons of stupid reality shows that don’t make sense.” 

“We missed you too,” Yuna agrees. “I’m glad we all decided to be roommates again. Kicking out that bitch from the fall semester and having you as the replacement was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me now,” you tease. 

Yuna parts from you to put the ice cream away after the two of you are done with it. She comes back and sits beside you, intently watching the anime in front of her when you pull your phone out. The last message is still that photo and Jay and Jake from a few days ago when you decide to text him.

you: is it bad that i'm still nervous about the first day of school even though it’s my last year of university 

you: asking for a friend 🤨

You shut your phone off to prevent yourself from waiting for his answer. You distract yourself with the show in front of you as minutes goes by before checking again, only to see he hasn’t texted back. The disappointment settles within you, even though the rational part of you knows he’s probably not ignoring you. 

Ryujin comes back twenty minutes later with dinner she’s picked up on her way back from running errands. The three of you sit around the coffee table and eat wordlessly in front of the TV from a tiring day and it doesn’t feel awkward or forced. 

You talk about your respective summers over the sound of the TV, only briefly pausing to watch action sequences that have distracted the conversation until it falls back into place. You tell Ryujin what you told Yuna about your time with Sunghoon and she nearly swoons when you tell her about your summer. 

When the two of them have focused back on the TV, you see Sunghoon text you from the corner of your eye. You check your phone again and try to keep your excitement to a minimum.

sunghoon: Definitely not a bad thing. I’d be a little worried if you weren’t 

you: i think i’m just nervous because it’s our last year 

you: anyway, did you settle in alright? are jay and jake still fighting lol 

sunghoon: Take it easy, okay? You seemed on edge back at home 

sunghoon: The guys are fine haha I think they missed each other even though they don’t act like it. Heeseung’s been keeping the peace. How about Ryujin and Yuna?

you: they’re good!! I’m actually with them right now. we’re watching my hero academia and having dinner 

sunghoon: Pay attention to the TV and not me, Y/N 😭

sunghoon: The guys and I are gonna order takeout and I might pass out soon. Goodnight if I fall asleep before you do :) 

you: gooodnight, hoon 😌

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

It’s unsurprising that your semester has started with a bang and that you find yourself more busy than not.

You’re barely home between classes, clubs, and your internship that eats up half of your week. You study at home and in cafes on campus with your other friends and roommates as well, catching up on lost time and complaining about how much work is being assigned. 

Sunghoon doesn’t text much and you try not to let it get to you. You’ve sent a few here and there, wishing him a good morning a few days ago and asking if he’d be free to study with you some time this week. Still, you chalk it up to him settling into his life back at university. 

You don’t know why this sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You never expected this summer romance to turn into anything more despite your want. But the change of environment and how abruptly your life changed after settling into a routine with Sunghoon has you imagining the worst. 

Yuna and Ryujin leave the cafe you’ve been studying at after an hour to head to their shared class, leaving you alone at your table until someone tugs your headphones off of your head. You turn around without hesitance to find the culprit, only to be met with Jake Sim’s infectious grin. 

“There’s that pretty face.” 

“I’m going to hit you by accident one day,” you huff, pausing your music to face him. 

“I missed you too,” Jake says sarcastically, bending down to hug your shoulders when you scowl at him. “How was your summer?” 

“Pretty good,” is all you offer him as he pulls away. “How was being back home in Australia? I’m sure your brother liked having you back.” 

“Quite the opposite but I think he loves me deep down,” he jokes. “Missed you guys, though.” 

You peek over Jake’s shoulder to see the rest of his friends, the very ones you met the same night you reconnected with Sunghoon. 

It was natural the way you became friends with them too. Despite Sunghoon’s attention being on you during that night in January, his friends pried him off of you with the hopes of getting to know the pretty young thing that caught their friend’s attention. When they found out you knew him back in his high school days, it was like the floodgates opened and new friendships blossomed that night. 

“Hey,” you say fondly, opening your arms to engulf Jay in a hug first. Heeseung follows suit and gives you an extra squeeze. Sunghoon stands behind the former with his hands in his pockets when you approach. 

But he doesn’t hug you like his friends do. Instead, Sunghoon tucks you in his side for a quick hug before letting you go. 

Your heart sinks but you’re quick to smile at him and shift your focus back to the rest of the guys. It stings a little, considering his friends who hadn’t seen you in a few months greeted you the way you hoped Sunghoon would. 

You settle back into your seat when Jay sits in front of you and when Jake takes off his backpack. 

“Oh, you guys are staying?” you ask. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” Jay asks. “We have all day to kill.” 

“Not at all! I could use the company. Yuna and Ryujin just left for class.” 

“Say less, princess. Your knights in shining armor are here to save you.” Jake’s words have you shaking your head in disapproval but he throws his head back in laughing before knocking your shoulder with his. “It’s good to have you back.” 

“So did you guys do anything fun when you were back home?” Heeseung asks you and Sunghoon. “Y/N, you worked a summer job, right?”

“Mhm. That part wasn’t too exciting but a job’s a job.” 

“What about the rest of your summer?” 

You tilt your head towards him. “It was great.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything and merely gives you a quick smile before pulling out his own laptop and setting it in front of him. The lump in your throat grows, especially as you look at Sunghoon and will him to look back at you. But he doesn’t. Instead, he tells Jay his coffee order when he offers to buy everyone coffee. 

The five of you remain like that for the next two hours with your noses deep in your assignments and projects. You steal glances at Sunghoon and see that he doesn’t meet your gaze, which confuses you.

you: you you doing okay? you seem kinda quiet 

From the corner of your eye, you watch Sunghoon read your text. 

sunghoon: Yeah I’m alright. Didn’t get a lot of sleep this week :/ 

you: i’m sorry ): hopefully you can get some sleep soon

sunghoon: Hahah yeah I hope so

He returns his attention to the screen in front of him without glancing in your direction. It makes the pit in your stomach sink deeper than before and although he’s given you a reason as to why he’s aloof, the voice in the back of your head tells you to worry. 

But there’s nothing you can do right now, not when his best friends are sitting next to him and certainly not when they’re including you in their conversations. They tell you about their respective summers and how much they looked forward to coming back for one last year before everybody parts ways. 

It warms you on the inside to know you’re being treated like an equal by Sunghoon’s friends. They’re people you know through friends of friends and would only see at parties on the weekends. You were a little surprised to see Jake approach you in a friendly manner because you hadn’t spoken to him since the last week of your third year, only communicating on Instagram when one of you would reply to the other.  

Jay and Heeseung are the same, too. This is the first time you’ve hung out with them when alcohol isn’t involved and you’re scared at how normal this feels, especially when Sunghoon sits across from you but doesn’t make an effort to add anything of substance into the conversation. 

The five of you part ways with Heeseung telling you not to become a stranger this year. You promised him you won’t, but the confused feeling resurfaces when Sunghoon merely waves at you as his friends hug you goodbye. 

You have a bad feeling. 

When the semester drags on, you keep your word and greet them in passing or entertain their rambunctious nature when they include you from time to time. You see Jake the most, as most of his classes are in the same building or the surrounding area in conjunction to yours. He keeps you company in between classes from time to time and you’ve developed a good system where you meet him for lunch in the cafeteria between your class periods and wait for the other guys to join. 

Sunghoon doesn’t text you as much as you’d like him to and it feels silly to expect him to pay attention to you as much as he did over the summer. But you can’t help your yearning, not when he looks criminally good when you see him walking throughout campus.

Communication between the two of you had died down quicker than you realize. After the first few weeks of setting in, Sunghoon texted you less and less with you being the one to initiate the conversation. He would like your Instagram posts and stories from time to time and text you about things your now-mutual friends would invite you to. But that was the basis of your conversations nowadays. 

Two months have passed and you’re confused. 

You respond to his stories as well, especially when he posts with your friends. You try not to read into it when you see girls you know posting Sunghoon on their stories either. They’re innocuous and it’s never just him alone in the frame, but Sunghoon will repost them onto his account and it leaves you wondering if there was any space for you in his life. 

The same phenomenon from high school follows him to university, except his life is not consumed by figure skating anymore. The girls are still fawning over him because of his charm and good looks. People still want to be his friend because he’s wickedly good at soccer even though he’s not on the team. The fraternity he and the other guys are in, often throw parties to celebrate random happenings and use it as an excuse to socialize with people. You see him hanging out with people you don’t know while you wait for a text back. 

The worst part is that you prepared yourself for this outcome but willed yourself to believe it wouldn’t come true. The two weeks you spent worrying about what life would be like once you came back to university was a premonition for how awfully alone you’d feel seeing Sunghoon having fun while you distracted yourself with your studies and your own friends. 

Even Jake, who you don’t know as well as you know Sunghoon, made a small comment about how odd it was that you and Sunghoon hadn’t hung out much. He remembers his friend being smitten by you back in January and figured the two of you must’ve spent a lot of time together when you went back home. You confirmed just as much, leaving out your bedroom trysts when you talked about your summer with Sunghoon. 

It hurts when you realize you’ve become the type of person you promised yourself you’d never be; you wait by your phone to see if Sunghoon texts you outside of the group chat you’ve found yourself in with the other guys and anticipate whatever he might post on social media. You can’t blame people for being interested in Sunghoon either. He’s wickedly good looking and can charm anyone without lifting a finger. It’s unfair the way he can move on with his life without worrying too much about what other people think. 

You wonder if he thinks about you at all. Communication fizzles out until it’s a few texts here and there. You hear from him mostly through that shared group chat but you don’t talk all that much to begin with. It’s mostly the guys joking with each other and you reacting until one of them says something so out of pocket that it prompts a response from you. You’re still navigating how to act around them now that Sunghoon hasn’t paid much attention to you for the months and a half that you’ve been back at school. 

Sometimes you think about how jarring it would look like to people from your hometown if they saw you and Sunghoon together over the summer. You were much more introverted and kept to yourself for the most part back when you were in high school. You were always too shy to make the first move and instead chose to watch people as they made harmless teenage mistakes, watching friendships fail and relationships blossom. 

Coming to university made you rethink your whole approach to life. It encouraged your go-getter attitude and the belief that you’re more capable than you think. It’s why you’ve made more friends in the past four years than you did in the first eighteen years of your life. It’s also why you didn’t shy away from Sunghoon in January despite knowing you used to have the biggest crush on him back when you were seat mates. 

To you, Sunghoon is still that sweet boy who works hard to make people proud of him. He’s that good-hearted, kind person who only wants what’s best for him and his loved ones. He’s not someone you expect to be a local community hero or somebody to put on a pedestal for no reason. Sunghoon has always been your neighbor, one you’ve seen in his good and bad days. 

Brushing you off like you two hadn’t spent the summer twisted in bedsheets makes you feel disappointed and unwanted. 

Jake invites you to his fraternity’s party on Saturday night and you tell him you’ll go. If not because your friend invited you to something he’s passionate about, then definitely because you need a distraction that isn’t academic related. 

He tells you to bring Yuna and Ryujin. The three of you are dressed appropriately and bask in the cooler weather now that the hottest months of the summer are over. The three of you hail an Uber and head over with a few shots of soju each, leaving you pleasantly buzzed with the ability to walk without stumbling. 

The party itself is in full swing when you arrive, as to be expected. Jake meets you at the door and lets you in himself. You almost forget how well known he is because of how painfully normal he seems when he’s not drinking. But walking with him means you witness stranger after stranger come up to him like he’s an old friend they hadn’t seen in years. You assume he knows them all. 

“You guys need a drink,” he says. “What do you like? We have beer, seltzer, and hard alcohol if you want?” 

“I’ll take a seltzer and Yuna will take a beer,” says Ryujin. 

“I’ll do a seltzer too,” you say. Jake fishes for them in the cooler and hands them to you all respectively. “I can’t believe you know this many people.”

“Eh, I know them, give or take. I used to be more active in the frat but physics has been kicking my ass lately,” Jake explains. “This is the first time I’ve had in a while to plan one of these things. It feels good.” 

“You really know how to throw a party, Sim Jaeyun,” Yuna says as she tips her beer bottle towards him. “As long as we get in for free, I couldn’t care less.” 

“You guys will always get in for free,” Jake promises with a salute. “Scout’s honor.” 

“You used to be a boy scout?” Ryujin asks over the music. Jake laughs and shakes his head, assuming she had the most to drink prior to arriving. 

Jake leads you to another room where he says the other guys are hanging out. Jay’s the first to see you, Yuna, and Ryujin, and offers his seat on the couch for one of you. Heeseung gives you a friendly hug when Ryujin happily takes Jay’s former seat as Jake steals your attention to catch up with you from the past week before you notice a girl sitting on Sunghoon’s lap. 

Time itself feels like it’s moving in slow motion when you see them from the corner of your eye. She’s perched on his knee as she talks animatedly to another person you don’t recognize and Sunghoon’s arm is lazily draped over her waist. Your heart sinks, especially when it doesn't register to him that you’ve walked into the room. 

Jake seems to notice how closed off you’ve become when your answers start to slow down. You try not to notice his worried eyes when they dart between you and Sunghoon, but he puts two and two together when you refuse to meet his gaze. 

He maneuvers so that his body is blocking your view and the only person you can focus on is him. You appreciate Jake even if your body language doesn’t convey that at this second. You see Yuna and Ryujin come to the same realization a few seconds later and share a look with the two girls before letting your disappointment wash over you. 

“Hey,” Jake says gently, knocking his bottle with your can. “Don’t look at him.” 

“It’s really hard not to when he’s the only person who has a girl sitting in his lap.” 

“True, but you’re not having fun and it’s only making you upset.” 

You tilt your head in confusion. “But that’s your best friend?”

“One who’s making my other friend feel upset,” he tells you. “We all had a feeling you two were more than just friends, you know. Neither of you are really good at hiding how you feel.” 

“That bad, huh?” 

Jake laughs but shakes his head. “Not really, honestly. It’s cute the way you care for him. No one talks about Sunghoon the way you do.” 

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.” 

“You talk about him like he’s a person with faults, Y/N. I don’t get the feeling that he was an ex-skating protege or the campus’ best looking student when you talk about him.” 

“Well, he is those things,” you mumble in annoyance. 

“Sure,” Jake laughs, “but it’s much more than that. Sunghoon used to tell us about how he’d see you on your balcony when he came home from skating practice, you know. You were always doing something like reading a book or staring at the sky. Hoon said he always wondered what you were thinking.” 

“That is awfully kind of him to say considering he has another girl in his lap,” you sigh. “This feels so childish. I knew whatever happened over the summer was meant to end when we got back to university but I had this idea in my head that it wouldn’t.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jake apologizes. “He’s my friend but so are you. It’s unfair.” 

“This is definitely too depressing of a conversation to have at a party,” you say with an awkward laugh. “You didn’t invite me to hear me bitch and moan.” 

“No, but I’m always down for one. Invite me over the next time you, Ryujin, and Yuna have a bitching session. God knows I need one.” 

“I’ll pencil you in.” 

When you regroup and are introduced to the girl on Sunghoon’s lap, you aren’t sure what’s supposed to hurt more—Sunghoon barely acknowledging you beyond a lazy wave or this girl being an absolute sweetheart who definitely didn’t know you and Sunghoon hooked up for months over the summer.

She’s kind and includes you and your friends in the conversation, catching you up on what you missed before arriving. She’s considerate and explains inside jokes she has with the people around you when they’re brought up in conversation and it makes your heart fall when you realize just how perfect and normal she is. 

You’re not sure whether she’s a girl Sunghoon met just now or has known for a while. You don’t know if he’s going home with her or if this is more than just a one time thing. What you do know, however, is Jake has given you the perfect environment to distract yourself from the awful feeling you get when you see how his chin is tucked on this girl’s shoulder. 

It’s Jake who promises Yuna and Ryujin to watch over you tonight. The girls keep their drinking to a minimum too, just to make sure you get home safely. You down shot after shot when Heeseung or Jay hand you alcohol and mingle with the people around you, forcing yourself to seem more outgoing than you are to prevent yourself from thinking about Sunghoon. 

The worst part is that he doesn’t seem to care that you’re here or that you’re not walking to him. He’s too preoccupied with his personal company and all of his focus is on her, just like it was on you all those months ago. It makes you sick to your stomach and although you’re incredibly wasted, you stop yourself from ingesting anymore alcohol when Yuna suggests it’s time to go back home.

Jake is kind enough to drive the three of you back when he’s sobered up. He walks the three of you into the apartment building and makes sure you’re safe inside the apartment. Jake makes Yuna and Ryujin promise to update him on how you’re holding up over the weekend and leaves to go back to the party after he squeezes your hand and tells you goodbye. 

Your friends help you get ready for bed and the last image before you close your eyes is the way Sunghoon looked at that girl, wishing it was you instead.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

“We should set you up on a date.” 

Ryujin barges into your bedroom where you’re sitting cross-legged over your desk with assignments so sprawled over the surface. It’s been a few weeks since the party and you haven’t made an effort to reach out to Sunghoon, muting his social media from your feed and only hearing from him when he chimes in the group chat. 

“He’s a great guy and you guys have pretty similar personalities. It hit me when we were hanging out earlier today but if you’re in, I’ll set everything up!”

Ryujin lets you scroll through his Instagram feed and you’re feeling more hopeful and excited than you have since the semester began. The guy is cute enough that you don’t feel immediately turned off by him and he seems to have a fun, outgoing personality. Ryujin’s a little stunned when you agree off the bat, having expected a little pushback, but you’re tired of feeling second best when it comes to love and romance. 

Ryujin gives this guy your number and tells you that he should be the one reaching out. You listen when she tells you to relinquish that desire to date and rush yourself into meeting up with him if you don’t match well over text. She’s right, as per usual. 

This guy texts you at a respectable hour and keeps your conversations interesting. He makes you laugh and asks you interesting questions that immediately reel you in. You find yourself thinking about Sunghoon less when you talk to him about your own passions and as you get to know him. 

In fact, you’re a bit perplexed at how well the two of you seem to get along in just a few short days. You’ve talked on the phone a few times and have seen each other in passing when you pick up Ryujin from their shared class before heading home. It’s enough familiarity to agree when he asks you to go out with him the following Saturday. 

It still hurts to think about Sunghoon, but this guy has provided a distraction that makes you think your feelings for the former may truly be gone. Maybe you really did only like him for the summer and didn’t get the closer you needed to move on. Maybe this was that closure. 

Saturday comes around and you both agree to meet at a ramen house close to your apartment. Yuna tells you it’s best to meet him there in case you’re not having fun and need a reason to leave. You take her advice and double check that your lip gloss looks good and that all hairs are in place before saying goodbye, promising to update them when you come home. 

You get to the ramen shop fifteen minutes early out of sheer nervousness and rationalize that you’d rather wait for him instead of risk being late. The air is cool enough that you keep your jacket on.

Only, you end up waiting longer than you’d like.

People walk past you but none of them are the person you’re waiting for. You grow more irritable and anxious altogether, checking your phone to see if there are any texts in his end that you neglected to see earlier. But you see nothing. 

After ten minutes past when he was supposed to meet you arrives, you text and ask him where he is. When another ten minutes passes, you call and leave a voicemail. You don’t know why you waited a full forty five minutes for him before deciding that it wasn’t worth it. Being rejected without knowing why for the second time has unlocked the deep insecurity of not being good enough, one you kept hidden from the surface. 

Fresh tears spring to your eyes and you wipe them away quickly to avoid crying in public. The shame you feel is weighing on you heavily. It seems childish to experience this level of annoyance and you refrain from sending a lengthy paragraph with less than favorable things to say. 

It all leads back to the nagging feeling of not being good enough for people to keep around. It’s almost as if you’re a liability of sorts, wandering around and hoping that who you are is enough to give others peace. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts when you hear someone calling your name. 

“Y/N, is that you?” 

You turn around to see Jake squinting and walking towards you. He smiles when he can see you standing in front of him and leans to give you a loose hug, initially too excited to have run into you to notice you’d been crying. When you pull away from him, Jake sees a tear fall from your eye and immediately pulls you back towards him. 

“Woah, woah,” Jake says when you stumble into his chest. He secures you between his arms as you pathetically let your tears fall onto his jacket. He looks down at your crying figure and feels his heart ache. “What happened, Y/N? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head and lift yourself from his chest, roughly pushing underneath your eyes to rid yourself of your tears. You’re sure some of your eyeliner has smudged and your makeup is ruined, and the thought of Jake watching you cry on a public sidewalk makes you feel pathetic.

“You’re not hurt,” he guesses when you move your head from left to right. He puts his hands on your shoulders and bends to look at you. “But you’re crying.” 

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I’m just gonna go home.”  

“Not when you’re like this,” he says. “What’s going on, Y/N?” 

“I had a stupid date with a stupid guy, and he stood me up without telling me why he couldn’t make it.” 

“That fucking blows.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

“He didn’t give you a reason either? I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh. “I think I’m just done with this whole dating bit until I get my life together. I’m exhausted, Jake.” 

He nods. “That guy sucks. I hope he doesn’t wake up tomorrow.” 

“You and me both.” 

“That’s the most un-gentlemanly thing a guy could do. Why bother asking you out if he’s not going to show up?” 

“You’re asking all the right questions but I’m too upset to even think right now, and I’m hungry but all I have in my kitchen is leftovers that I don’t want to eat.” 

The frustration eats at your chest and you feel an impending tantrum rising. Jake can only look at you with sympathetic eyes as you shake from the cool breeze. But he shakes his head when you suggest going back home and offers his arm out to you.

“Screw him. I’ll take you out on a date tonight since you were promised one.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “A date? Jake…”

“Come on,” he says with a friendly smile. “It won’t mean anything. You deserve to go on a mind blowing date after, well, everything.” 

“What makes you think you have what it takes to take me on a mind blowing date?” you ask as you loop your arm with his. 

“Because I, Sim Jaeyun, know how to impress girls.” He laughs at his own joke and ushers you inside the restaurant before flagging down a waiter to be seated. “But really, I like being friends with you and I hate seeing you sad.” 

“You’re definitely climbing the ranks in this totally imaginary friendship ladder,” you tell him. The waiter leads you both to an empty table and Jake pulls out your chair for you before bowing dramatically.

“Your seat, madam.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” 

He laughs and pride swells in his chest when he sees you laughing. Jake has gathered bits and pieces about your summer with Sunghoon between the two of you. He’s not as close with you as he is with the former, but the blossoming friendship since that night you two first met has him thinking you might be someone who he wants around for the long run.

It’s why Jake finds himself irritated at Sunghoon for ignoring you in the first place. He tries to bring you up in conversation subtly, mentioning your name or what you’ve been up to in passing. Jay and Heeseung are quick to take the bait and talk about you candidly like they would with any of their other friends but Sunghoon always remains quiet and stoic. It doesn’t help that Jake remembers the crestfallen look on your face the night his friend let another girl sit on his lap.

Jake can’t guess why this seemingly perfect summer ended so abruptly. Sunghoon was full of hope during his time away from university and often talked about how happy he was to be back home. He mentioned being with you a few times but Jake and the rest of the guys had a sneaking suspicion that you were the one making his last summer before graduating, one to remember. 

But now, you sit in front of him with your hair done and an outfit that he’s never seen you wear to campus before. You look like an angel under the artificial lighting as you talk animatedly about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you. Jake almost feels sorry for Sunghoon. It could very well be him sitting in front of you instead if he hadn’t ignored you. 

The two of you make the fifteen minute walk back to Jake’s apartment after he tells you it’ll be just him until the following evening. He says that Jay and Heeseung are taking a weekend trip but doesn’t know what Sunghoon is up to, although you suspect that he’s with the girl from the party. 

You try not to dwell on it when you enter his apartment. The living area is much cleaner than you anticipated it to be. There’s artwork and posters lining the walls and Jake lets you look around when he grabs two bottles of soju. 

“I’m in desperate need of a bitch-fest and I know you are too,” Jake says as he beckons you to sit on the couch. “This is a judgment-free zone, okay? Whatever you say won’t be repeated.” 

“That’s a tempting offer but I still need to go home later.” 

Jake shrugs. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.” You don’t contemplate it for a second. 

“Screw it.” 

You take one bottle from Jake and unscrew the cap, chugging a quarter of the liquid before handing it back to him. He doesn’t say anything before tipping his head back to do the same. 

“Sometimes I feel like everyone has this expectation of me that I can’t fulfill,” Jake starts. “I mean, I know I’m on the soccer team and all of that shit, but people expect me to be this all-rounder who knows what I’m gonna do in life. I don’t know anything.” 

“That sucks. I can’t imagine why that many people think that they know what’s best for you.” 

“Everyone tells me to go pro. Without fail, every single game ends with someone telling me to jump the gun and go for it. But I don’t play soccer for fame, you know? It’s exhausting and I hate that I’m losing my passion for it.” 

“I’m sorry, Jake.” The two of you sip on the alcohol until a nice buzz has formed. He watches you pout and he refrains from cooing at you. “I think people need to shut the fuck up forever.” 

“Amen.” 

“I didn’t know you felt that way. Seriously, Jake, I’m sorry people make you feel like you have to be somebody you don’t want to be.” 

“People think it’s stupid that I want to pursue a career in astrophysics but it’s what I love and it’s what I’m good at. I’m waiting on acceptance letters for grad schools across the country but nobody seems to give a shit about that.” 

Your heart aches for him. Jake feels your head rest in his shoulder and he rests his own head on top of yours. 

“People think they know what’s good for you based on their own delusions about who you are,” you say. 

“I love my team and I love soccer but lately I haven’t been looking forward to going to practice or the games. I hate that it feels like it’s weighing me down.” 

“Do you know what you’re gonna do?” 

He shakes his head. “Not really. I get in the zone when we have a game but the aftermath is just…wondering what I’m going to do when it’s all over. I want to keep playing but not if it means I lose my passion for the sport.” 

“Well, that makes a lot of sense. I’d hate to see you lose passion for the thing that makes you happiest.” 

“Me too. Now you go,” Jake beckons after a moment of silence. “I feel like I just ripped my heart out and put it in your hands.” You steal the bottle from Jake’s hands and he motions to open a new one as you finish the last of the liquid. 

“I’m going to feel really stupid for saying all of this so please promise you won’t make fun of me.” Jake rubs your arm with the hand around your shoulder. 

“I would never, Y/N.” 

You sigh. “Sometimes it feels like everything for me is an ‘almost.’ It just seems like the universe has it out for me and won’t let me be happy because everything I’ve ever wanted keeps getting ripped away just when I think it’s in reach. 

“This stupid date is a first. I feel so fucking humiliated and I hate that I waited as long as I did just for him to not text me or let me know he wasn’t coming. It makes me feel like some sort of pathetic excuse of a human being that he couldn’t give me the decency to give me a heads up.”

“He’s fucked up for that, Y/N. I mean it. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad about it, okay?” 

“Thanks, Jake. This whole Sunghoon thing too…I’ll admit that I’m hurt. Sue me. It was shitty to ghost me and pretend I don’t exist. It’s fucking cowardly not to end it with me face-to-face. But mostly, I feel so fucking ashamed that I even fell for him in the first place.”

“What do you mean?” 

You sink deeper into Jake’s side. “Sunghoon has always attracted attention wherever he goes. Back in high school, everyone thought he was untouchable because he competed in skating competitions and had to miss school to appear on TV. 

But to me, he was just my neighbor who struggled to wake up in the morning or someone I’d see come home late at night after everyone had eaten dinner. It was so weird to me back then, to see someone as young as him do what he did.”

Jake leans the other bottle towards you and you take a long sip. 

“I wanted to be friends with him so bad, Jake. He was so funny without even trying. All the guys and girls in school would laugh because they wanted to be his friend but I thought he had such a unique sense of humor. And he’s way smarter than people gave him credit for. I don’t know how he managed to be a professional skater and a student at the same time.

Then we bumped into each other at that party after three years of not seeing each other. Sunghoon is more confident than he was when we were kids. I think I am too. It was weird talking to him about our hometown when we barely talked, but it felt like we lived the same life.” 

“So why do you feel ashamed?” 

You bite your lip. “I had the biggest crush on him when I was sixteen. We shared only one class together and instead of a final, our teacher said we could have a small holiday party and have secret Santas. Sunghoon picked my name out of the bunch and he gifted me two things—a vinyl of my favorite album and guitar picks.” 

Jake nudges you. “You play guitar?” 

“I remember telling him how shocked I was because the budget was twenty dollars. But Sunghoon said he was at the mall with his friends when he saw this vinyl in the local record store and had to buy it. He told me he was originally just going to give me the guitar picks, but he remembered that all I could talk about before class started was how excited I was for it to come out.” 

“Wow…that’s a pretty sentimental gift.” 

“I was so touched that he did that and remembered something about me. It felt like the first time I was seen by people who weren’t my parents. That turned into a big, fat crush on Sunghoon that ended when he started dating the most popular girl in school at the time. It made sense, you know. Both of them were prom king and queen and that dumb tradition reminded me that I have more to live for than waiting for a boy to like me back.

But then summer happened. It was like I was sixteen all over again and my feelings for Sunghoon never went away. I ran into him getting coffee and we ended up talking for an hour at the coffee shop before we went back to my place. The rest of the summer is history.” 

Jake drinks from the bottle. “Sunghoon was your first love, wasn’t he?”

You groan into your hands. “Don’t remind me.” 

“He’s not on my good side either, babe. Lately he’s been on edge, I guess. He’s more irritable, too. Sunghoon’s short with us and it’s driving me crazy.”

“Seems like he’s the common denominator.”

You drink from the bottle. “I don’t base my value on whether or not I’m dating but…it always feels like I’m losing. It feels like I’m constantly placing second and it kills me that I have to experience this all over again.” 

Jake doesn’t say anything for a while and your buzz is starting to increase. He pulls you in for another hug and sits like that for a good moment until he’s sure you won’t cry again.

“Life is unfair but at least we have soju.” 

You snort. “You got that right. Didn’t you say you guys had a karaoke machine? I think we need to do something that’s not depressing.” 

“When I get the highest score, you better not complain.” 

Jake excuses himself to get more drinks from the kitchen and takes the liberty to text Yuna and Ryujin about what happened that night and that you’ll probably stay over at his place after consuming so much alcohol. They thank him for letting them know and Jake pockets his phone, hoping that the hurt in your soul will disappear when you wake up.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

It’s two in the morning when Sunghoon comes home unexpectedly.

Jake notices him after the floor creaks under his footsteps and switches his eyes from the television screen to his friend. You fell asleep an hour ago and he didn’t have the heart to wake up, nor drive you back to your place because of the alcohol left in his system. Instead, Jake put a blanket over your body and let you lie your head on the armrest. 

Sunghoon looks between you and Jake. He doesn’t know what to make of it and takes his shoes off to delay the conversation he knows is imminent.

“I thought you were with that girl,” Jake mutters, not bothering to glance at Sunghoon, who is now standing close to him. 

“I couldn’t do it,” Sunghoon tells him. 

“Hm?”

“I said I couldn’t do it. She was kissing me and tried to take my shirt off and I couldn’t go through with it.”

Jake nods. “Okay.”

“Okay…”

“You should probably go to bed. It’s two A.M.” Sunghoon looks at Jake quizzically. 

“Alright? Why is Y/N here?” 

“That’s none of your business,” Jake says with a clipped tone.

“It is my business if she’s in my apartment.” 

“Our apartment.”

“Sure, whatever.” 

Jake’s mouth quirks slightly. “Y/N and I were just hanging out.”

“The two of you, hanging out in the apartment. Right.”

“Why’s that so hard to believe?”

Sunghoon pushes his irritation down. “You guys don’t seem like the type to hang out without the rest of us.”

“I bumped into her tonight and we ended up coming back here and getting drunk. No biggie.”

“You guys got drunk, alone?”

“Why? Is there a problem?”

Sunghoon feels taken aback by Jake’s attitude. He wants to throw it back in his face and ask his friend why he’s acting the way he is, but your sleeping figure prevents him from raising his voice. It’s late and he’s tired, and all he wants to do is figure out if you and Jake are involved. He sticks around for another minute, trying to think of someone to say without tipping Jake off. He balances on both legs, awkwardly shuffling around until Jake sighs loudly.

“We’re not seeing each other.”

Sunghoon chokes, causing Jake to roll his eyes. “W-What?” 

“Y/N and I aren’t hooking up.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

“Sure you weren’t,” Jake smirks, turning his attention back to the TV screen. “You’ve been standing there like an idiot trying to figure out how to talk to me about this.”

“Well…okay then. Good.”

“Good?”

Sunghoon panics. “Yeah. She doesn’t deserve more heartbreak.” Jake laughs and shakes his head, biting his tongue to prevent what he wants to say from tumbling out. 

“That’s rich coming from you, Sunghoon. You of all people don’t get to talk about what Y/N deserves. You’ve been a coward this entire semester and didn’t have the balls to cut it off with her in person.”

“Jake, I—”

“This is the first time I’ve seen you act like a child, bro. You ignore your feelings and then get mad when you see her with me. Which is it? Do you like her or not?”

“It’s not that simple. I just—”

“You just what? Throw away a good thing and ruin it? Ignore the only person in your life who knows you inside and out?”

“I’m afraid that she only likes me because everybody else used to,” Sunghoon confessed. “I’m scared that Y/N doesn’t give two shits about me other than the career I had and where my life is going.” 

Jake scoffs. “I love you, man, but your head is so far up your ass right now. Y/N is the only person who cares about you for the reasons you want. She’s the only person who’s never seen you like some sort of prize to be won and you threw that all away for what exactly? For a girl you barely know?” 

“She’s no one.”

“Precisely,” says Jake. “You keep deluding yourself into thinking all of these girls you meet are perfect for you but you’re self sabotaging. Who’s to say those girls give a fuck about you?” 

Sunghoon remains quiet and allows Jake to be angry at him because he knows he deserves it. He never intended to hurt you. Seeing you stop looking for his eyes at parties or ignoring him when you see him in passing makes Sunghoon believe you’ve stopped trying with him, just like he did with you.

It hurts to know that there’s a possibility of you moving on from him. It’s strange to think you could live a life without him in it because this past summer has taught him how loved he could feel and how he could have it all if he really wanted it. But the happiness and worry-free vacation scared him into oblivion with the recollection that everyone who has ever loved him, has now left.

But not you. You were there for Sunghoon in his youth without him knowing it and you were there for him when he needed a reminder that his life could be more than outgrowing expectations. Sunghoon ran away from it because it felt foreign, and now he’s understanding the weight of his actions when he sees you comfortably sleeping next to his best friend.

“I’m not going to kick Y/N out tonight, by the way. She’s been asleep for an hour and I’m not gonna disrupt her,” Jake says, bringing Sunghoon out of his thoughts. “It’s probably best if you stay in your room until she leaves tomorrow morning.”

He nods and looks at your still figure on the edge of the couch. He wants to see you up close like he did over the summertime and kiss the worry from your pout, but he refrains. Instead, Sunghoon whispers goodnight to the two of you and disappears into the hallway.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

Sunghoon builds the courage to talk to you when he wakes up the next morning and sees the living room empty. He’s not sure if Jake told you about him arriving earlier than expected. Honestly, he’s not sure what he’s hoping for. 

He prays for a moment to get you alone and that you’ll hear him out. Knowing you were so close but out of his grasp makes Sunghoon’s heart fall to his chest. It feels like a constant battle between what he wants and what he thinks is good for him based on unsavory experiences from his youth. But you’re not just another person to him. 

Sunghoon breaks it off with the girl from the party and he’s more than shocked when she tells him there aren’t any hard feelings. But she says she always noticed the far away look in his eyes and assumed he was still hung up on somebody else in the meantime. Sunghoon apologizes until he feels like it’s enough. 

When he sees you standing outside of the local convenience store by your apartment in the middle of the night, Sunghoon knows it’s time for him to stop being a coward. 

“Y/N,” he says when he approaches. 

You look perfect underneath ungodly fluorescent lights, so much so that he thinks it’s unfair how good you look. The basket in your hand is filled with a few items and Sunghoon is immediately transported to all the nights where the two of you would make midnight runs for late night snacks. It tugs at his heart strings and he wants to turn back time at this moment.

You look at him like you’ve seen a ghost. He knows he’s the last person you expected to run into tonight. It’s clear by the way you’ve taken a step back, carefully dropping a bag of chips in your basket.

“What do you want?” 

Sunghoon tries not to wince at your cold tone.

“Can we talk?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Alright,” he says. “I deserve that.” 

You sigh. “You have until I finish shopping to talk.” 

Sunghoon wastes no time and stands beside you at a respectable distance to avoid making you feel uncomfortable. You scan the aisles and he realizes you’re taking your time when he remembers that you know this store like the back of your hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Sunghoon begins. “I’m sorry for ghosting you after our summer together. It was shitty on my part to ignore you and then have you see me with another girl.” 

“Is that all?” you asked him with a clipped tone. “Is that really what you wanted to tell me?” 

“No,” he rebukes, swallowing harshly. “You deserve that apology at the least. I don’t know why I did it. I guess a lot of my fears about holding people close scared the shit out of me because everyone leaves eventually and I was scared that you’d be one of them.

“I know it was fucked up not to talk to you about this before we came back to school. I could tell something was bothering you but I was so selfish and tried to convince myself that we’d be okay once we left home. I’m so fucking sorry for ignoring you and making you feel like you weren’t worth my time, Y/N. But I’m here to tell you that I’m so in love with you and that I’m so, so fucking sorry.” 

You stop in your tracks and shut your eyes. He watches you breathe in and holds his breath. Sunghoon’s hands are shaking and his heartbeat feels like it’s running as fast as a bullet train when you turn around to face him. When you open your eyes, all he can see is disappointment. 

“You were everything to me, you know? Back in grade school, everyone used to talk about you like you were a God but I was the only person who talked to you like a human being. I know you know that. I was the only person your age who didn’t make you feel like you had to meet expectations. 

When we reconnected over the summer, it felt like I was struck by lightning, or something. God, I had the biggest crush on you when we were in high school but you never looked at me like that because I wasn’t one of the girls who was popular enough to be seen with you. But I know we were all caught up in stereotypes and childish behavior. I don’t blame you for that.”

Sunghoon follows you to another aisle.

“Then summer happened. You treated me like your girlfriend and you talked about the future like I was going to be part of it. You messed with my head when you’d hold me in public and kiss me when we had sex. You confused me when you stopped texting me and when you decided to hookup with some girl without breaking it off with me. I don’t give a shit if you didn’t like me back. The decent thing to do would’ve been to tell me you wanted to stop whatever it was we had.

I feel so fucking humiliated to think you could’ve ever reciprocated my feelings for you. I hate that I let you back into my life just for you to treat me the way you did. It makes me feel like I’m not good enough for you and I don’t want to feel like that anymore.” 

“But I love you,” Sunghoon croaks with tears forming in his eyes. 

“Well, it’s too late for that.” 

You walk to the cashier without looking behind you. Sunghoon feels frozen on his ground but sees your figure becoming smaller before he rushes to stand next to you and pull out his wallet.

“Paying for my shit won’t fix this.” 

“I know,” Sunghoon says softly while he hands the cashier his credit card. “Just let me. Please.” 

You don’t intervene. You don’t say anything when he steps out of the store with you or when he offers to walk you home because it’s dark out and you know it’s a ten minute journey. You don’t say anything when the wind blows renders you cold, but you decline when Sunghoon offers your jacket. 

“Thanks for walking me,” you say when you reach your front door. “Sunghoon, I want to believe that you’re sorry and you regret what you did, but that doesn’t change the fact that you hurt me. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of this back and forth. It’s time we both move on, don’t you think?”

His mouth feels dry and Sunghoon thinks he might shatter into a million pieces in front of you. He feels his heart breaking when you turn around to unlock your door and when you don’t spare him a glance as you walk inside. Sunghoon stays with his mouth slightly ajar as he stares at your front door, replaying your words in his head. 

With a heavy heart, Sunghoon begins to walk home and lets his tears fall until his vision becomes blurry.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

“Now you know I’m not one to give men the benefit of the doubt, but Jake says he can hear Sunghoon crying in his room every night.”

Ryujin and Yuna sit on your bed while you’re sitting on the chair at your desk. They pick at the pillows decorating the mattress while you kick your feet up and place them on top of the blanket.

“And, as we know, Sunghoon doesn’t cry,” says Yuna.

“Serves him right,” you say. You don’t deny that it makes your heart hurt for him, but your anger and pride prevent you from expressing any sadness for Sunghoon.

“Based on what you told us, it really sounded like Sunghoon’s apology came from the bottom of his heart and it wasn’t a cop out to make himself feel better.” Yuna hugs your pillow closer to her. “It’s clear that you two still love each other.”

“But it doesn’t matter, Yuna. Not when the thought of ghosting me crossed his mind. It hurts to know that there was even a time when Sunghoon thought I wasn’t worth keeping around.” 

“We can all agree he was a fucking idiot but there’s a reason why he’s crying every night and why he didn’t make up excuses when you told him how you felt,” says Ryujin. “That’s gotta count for something.”

“Jesus, you two must really believe him if you’re saying all of this.”

Yuna shrugs. “Obviously we don’t know him as well as you do but we know him well enough. What he did was terrible, no doubt about that. But it’s been weeks since you guys saw each other and you’re both so miserable.”

“Hey!” you shout, plucking an eraser off of your desk and flinging it at her. “I’m not miserable.”

“Sure,” Ryujin snorts. “There’s no use in lying to us when you know we’ll call you out.” She smiles in satisfaction when you huff. 

“We’re not saying you need to marry him or even absolve what he did,” Yuna advises. “But we both know you’re not moving on from him. You’re hurt and we get that but you’ve loved him all your life. That feeling will never go away.”

“What if he hurts me again?” you ask. “What if he decides that he’s going to stop communicating with me because I’m not what he wants anymore?” 

“The man told you he was in love with you in front of strangers in a convenience store,” Yuna deadpans. “Even if he does decide it’s over, you’ll be strong and you’ll know how to stand your ground.”

“If you don’t go for it, you’ll know how it’ll end. But come on, Y/N. You’re so in love with Sunghoon that you still yearn for him even after you told him to move on from you. Don’t you think you deserve to be happy too?” 

You bite your lip. Ryujin and Yuna look at you with all the love and care in the world, and for a moment you wonder if Sunghoon has ever looked at you like that. 

Ryujin speaks. “Again, you know I’m the last person to vouch for a man, but this is Sunghoon. He’s the guy you love more than life and someone who will never be able to move on from you.” 

“You have to realize that,” Yuna says. “You’re everything to him.” 

“I don’t know.”

“But you care so much for him. I mean, you were ready to bolt out of the apartment to check up on him when I told you he’s been crying.” 

“Fuck you guys,” you say in distress, hiding your face in your lap. They laugh and come to stand next to you, pulling your body in an upright position and smothering you in between them. 

“Just talk to him, at least. See where it goes. If it doesn’t work out, at least you could say you tried.”

“And you know,” Yuna says, “sometimes trying your best is enough.” 

You gather yourself and put your shoes on when Ryujin hands you a tissue. Yuna grabs her car keys and tells you she’ll drive and that they’ll wait for as long as you need in case you need any back up. You hug both of them like you’re afraid they’ll slip away but they tell you that everything will be just fine. 

Heeseung is the one who answers the door when you knock. He’s shocked to see you but lets you in when Jay and Jake spot you from the living room. Sunghoon sits between them on the couch when Jake nudges his side. 

When he meets your eyes, he understands what it means to have the wind knocked out of his lungs. He wipes a stray tear from his eyes and you wonder if he knows how your heart is breaking for him all over again. 

“We’ll be outside,” Jake says to cut the silence. The three boys walk out and join Yuna and Ryujin in the car when they see them parked out front. 

“Hi,” you say quietly, standing awkwardly with your weight shifting from one leg to the other. 

Sunghoon stands abruptly and nearly trips over the blanket covering his lap to get to you. You stifle a grin when you remember why you’re here in the first place and you hate that you melt whenever he’s around you. 

“Y/N, hi,” Sunghoon says. “W-What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said that night you apologized,” you tell him. “I didn’t think you loved me the way you said you did until Jake told us you’ve been crying for weeks.”

“How could I not love you?” he asks timidly. Sunghoon wants to reach for your hand but refrains because he feels like it’s too soon. 

“I don’t know.” 

“You’re everything to me, Y/N. You’re the person I want to talk to at the end of the day and the person who sees the best in me. You’ve never made me feel like I wasn’t enough and it was so stupid of me to think that you would’ve turned out to be somebody who would leave me. You’ve been so nice to me since we were kids and all I did was make you feel like you weren’t good enough.”

“Hoon—”

“I don’t want you to think I’m saying all of this to get you to feel a certain way. But fuck, I love you, and all I want is for you to be happy. You of all people deserve that at the minimum.” Sunghoon nods and sniffles. “You deserve the world and I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t.” 

“I won’t say that everything’s okay,” you begin. Sunghoon nods and casts his gaze to the floor. “I’ve never felt so passionately about someone before you, Sunghoon. I don’t think I ever knew what to do about my feelings for you. It was so hard watching you date people in high school who I knew were only with you because they thought you’d become famous.

Everyday I wished you would look at me like you looked at them. And then you did, but you made me so confused when we came back that I convinced myself it must’ve been an illusion.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“But I know you mean what you say.” You sigh, taking a step forward towards him. “I know you’re being honest with me. I know you well enough to know when you’re lying.”

“I’m not lying about this,” Sunghoon’s wears immediately. 

“I know you love me. I know because you don’t cry about things so easily. You’re resilient like that and you’ve always pushed through. The only time I saw you like this was when you didn’t qualify for that skating competition back in grade school. But even then, you just trained harder until you qualified for the next one. 

What I’m trying to say is, I don’t hate you and it would feel weird if you weren’t in my life. I don’t know where that leads us but it’s only fair that I’m honest if that’s what I expected of you.”

“I want you and only you,” Sunghoon tells you. “You are the best part of me and everyone knows that too. I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.” 

Sunghoon almost doesn’t believe it when your hands cup his jawline. He doesn’t believe he’s awake when your lips touch his and when you push yourself into him like you’re afraid you’ll fall.

He holds you delicately and reciprocates your kiss. Sunghoon doesn’t dare to push you further, allowing you to take the lead and set the pace at your own discretion. When you pull away, he looks at you with plump lips and closes his eyes when he feels your thumbs wipe away his tears. 

“I love you too,” you say. “I didn’t spend all of my life crushing on you just for this not to work out.” 

Sunghoon laughs for the first time with you and it makes him feel like the weight of the world is no longer on his shoulders. He holds his hand with yours and kisses your palm twice. 

“We should probably let the guys back in, huh?” 

“I say we should all have a movie night,” you suggest. “I mean, the five of them didn’t put up with us for nothing.” 

Sunghoon opens the door and beckons all of them inside, still keeping a hold on your hand as you kick your shoes to the side. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jay says with a smile. “It’s about time!”

“We love you man,” Heeseung says as he high-fives Sunghoon. He gives you a side hug when he enters the apartment. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N.”

“So are you guys dating now?” Ryujin asks. 

“We still have a lot to talk about but I think we’re on the same page,” you tell her. Sunghoon kisses the crown of your head and your friends are amused when you smile. 

“Y/N suggested we should have a movie night,” Sunghoon says. “I’m down for it if you guys are.”

“I am SO raiding your liquor,” says Yuna. Jay follows in tow and starts preparing the popcorn while Heeseung fetches more blankets and pillows.

“You know,” Jake says with a smirk on his face, “this is so going in my speech when you two get married.” 

You and Sunghoon choke and struggle to speak.

“M-Married?” Sunghoon stutters. 

“Don’t act like you don’t fantasize about Y/N being your wife. And you,” Jake says while pointing in your direction, “don’t act like Hoon isn’t what you think about day and night.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jaeyun,” you whine with heat crawling up your cheeks. You turn to bury your face in Sunghoon’s chest. 

“No, don’t hide.” He pries you off of him with a pout. “It’s cute. You’re cute.” Sunghoon kisses your cheek as Jake claps his hands.

“Just remember what I said!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, waving Jake off. “Whatever you say.” 

When enough time has passed for the dust to settle and for water to flow under the bridge, neither you nor Sunghoon are too surprised when Jake manages to make your friends laugh as he tells them the story of tonight after the graduation ceremony.

Jake watches as Sunghoon fixes the tassel on your cap as his mom stands to take a photo of your friend group before your life truly begins. The familiar sensation of pride swells within him when he watches the two of you, almost like it was almost meant to be.

In a way, it was.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

taglist: @enha-stars @karinasbaby @baevsxii @lillotus17 @syzavxy @mrmld @nikilvrfuvyev @notevenheretbh1 @wvnkoi @seungiesgf @kgneptun @judeduartewannabe @iheartjayke @wonsbubble @ilyjxdz @foggysfrog @oddracha @haechansbbg @tobiosbbyghorl @ryunjin0 @sharksandminhos @jungwoneez @alex-is-sleeping @minjaexvz @woninluv @engeneeee-168 @friendlyuser57 @moony-mari @trdhgg @sleepyhoon @sunghoonsgfreal @i02hoonz @riksaes @021894s @zeeloveshee @jwnghyuns @vhuteryh @cloudiesblog @awsome209 @fleurixzs.

[charliemwrites]

Honestly I would love to hear your thoughts on all of the concepts you mentioned, but I’m especially intrigued by “reader who came back Wrong” and Simon getting possessed - if you feel like sharing of course <3

I just did the Possessed!Simon one here, so let’s do reader who came back Wrong

-a bit similar set up to SpecGru reader tbh. Reader and Simon have a fraternizing thing going on. They’re definitely more invested than Simon

-simon is a shit, per usual. It’s not enough to hint or just brush off gently. No, he’s gotta be nuclear about it

-reader lasts a couple months of trying (and failing) to pretend they have their feelings under control. Doesn’t help that Simon is sending mixed signals by still wanting to fuck them

-initiate strategy: time away

-reader takes a long-term assignment with a different team, but it is temporary. Theyre home is still with the 141, issues with Simon aside

-what was supposed to be a year becomes 18 months. At month 6 contact with all of the 141 (not just Simon) decreases. At month 9 it cuts off entirely. At month 13, Kate admits that a mission didn’t go according to plan but the 141 is not authorized to intervene

-at month 17 she announces that reader is finally coming back

-reader steps off the plane with bad scars on their face and a uniform with no patches (borrowed)

-they smile at the 141, express how much they missed their boys….

-but there’s just the slightest hesitation when Gaz hugs them. An uncharacteristic twitch in their fingers when Johnny throws an arm around their shoulder. They keep looking to Laswell for direction instead of Price. And they barely seem to notice Simon is there at all

-Simon is the only one to notice. And he keeps noticing.

-their signature has changed. He sees their after-action reports first and he almost doesn’t recognize it. Handwriting is off too

-they smile just a bit too slow at jokes that used to be just their type of comedy

-Johnny suggests a movie they used to love and they make little comments almost like this is the first time they’re seeing it

-Simon catches them eating banana one day. They hate banana.

-they keep looking at him weird. Just… weird. Like someone they know but can’t remember the name of. Except they do know his name - or at least his last one. They keep calling him “Riley” something they never did even during their worst arguments

-price notices too. Their combat is Off. no ones getting injured and yet… they don’t fight like they used to either

-they ask Laswell what happened. She says it’s classified.

-it won’t be for much longer