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januaryembrs · 2 months

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I MIGHT JUST BE IN LOVE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [8]

GIF by fightingdragonswithwho

decription: the FIVE times they hide that they're dating + the ONE time they tell everyone

word count: 17.5k

warnings: blood, gore, usual cm stuff. FLUFF, OH GOD FLUFF. mention of sex (minors DNI in this one), no actual smut but very close to it (actual smut chapter of their first time to come soon), tiny sprinkle of angst because its ME.

author note: WE'RE BACK POOKIES. I'M SO SORRY MY BRAIN STOPPED FUNCTIONING.

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‘oh god I’m gonna marry him, if he keeps this shit up,

I might just be in la la la la la love’

The one with the revenge.

“This is so against company policy,” Bugsy murmured, her fingers twined in Spencer’s hair as he pressed urgent kisses to her neck.

“Only if they have evidence,” Spencer replied, his brows furrowed as she attached her lips to his fervently. They’d held it together until this point, kept the touches minimal, left the make outs and needy hands for home when they could be themselves without exposing their best kept secret to the rest of the team. But today was different. Virginia had reached an unnaturally hot peak, and the whole team had been forced to swap out their usual professional attire with something more casual. Spencer had forgone his sweaters, which had been a mourning in itself, and instead had been rolling his sleeves to his elbows in some attempt to cool his thick veins.

Bugsy hadn’t needed to voice her opinion of the new look. Spencer wasn’t stupid, and he certainly wasn’t blind. He saw how she looped her fingertips between his, the second they had a minute alone, how her eyes trained on his hands when he drove them home, how she would press a quick peck to the back of his hand in between moments of silence when she had little more to do with her mouth.

“Isn’t that funny, the evidence locker doesn’t have cameras, that’s almost-” She cut herself off with a jolted moan as he kissed over her collar bone, nipping so gently that it wouldn’t leave a mark.

“And you guys say I talk too much,” Spencer said, a hint of teasing in his voice as she looked at him with a gaping mouth, learning very quickly that Spencer was a downright menace when they were sneaking around, the boy who never broke the rules, who ironed his socks and folded his underwear almost devilish at the idea of doing something in secret.

She pinched his bottom cheekily, and he jumped slightly, only to find her giggling to which he cut her off with an even harsher kiss.

She was addictive, which was a strong claim to be made by a man like him. Yet he found himself thinking everything about her lips was laced with a toxin he couldn’t keep away from, like he’d had a taste of fresh air and couldn’t be without or he’d begin to turn bluer than Violet Beauregarde. He’d found the golden ticket, the key to the factory. For once in his life, Spencer Reid had come out the other side and won.

Bugsy’s hands were yanking at his locks, their lips sliding against one another, and he pushed to the back of his head that they only had about three more minutes before it became suspicious that they were gone from their desks so long.

And as if some being up in the heavens was sat back watching with popcorn, the door handle rattled as someone entered the room, and the two of them sprung away from one another.

David Rossi strolled in, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand as he sat through his second batch of paperwork, looking for the file from the Milwaukee case to use as source material, His shirt had been unbuttoned, the Virginia heat stifling and he was already starting to regret picking a hot drink over the cold crap that wasn’t even real espresso that Penelope liked from Starbucks, yet he thought he might take anything that would cool him down when he strolled into the back room that was known for no open windows, and the sight of two sweating agents greeted him.

Spencer’s hair was messed from where he must have ran his hand through it a bunch of times, trying to get it off his neck, Bugsy’s shirt was tucked where she probably attempted to cool herself off in the obnoxiously stuffy four walls as they both flicked through separate files, standing about ten feet apart from one another.

“It’s a hot one today, kids,” He said, sliding his coffee on the table and strolling past the two of them towards the ‘M’ section.

They stole a glance at one another, knowing smiles passing between them because it felt entirely clandestine what they were doing.

“Don’t suppose the director would mind if we pulled funds to invest in a BAU swimming pool, would they?” She chimed in, fanning her blouse out because it really was stuffy in there, she had just assumed it was the feeling she got when she kissed Spencer.

“We fuel the jet once a week, what’s a pool between co-workers,” He shrugged, smiling when he heard her giggle.

Spencer pulled the folder he was actually looking for off the shelf, making his way to the exit, watching her eyes shy away from him because they both knew it was entirely obvious when they looked at one another, mainly because his cheeks heated up beyond what he could excuse as being the heat wave.

Yet he was feeling brazen, and maybe a little embarrassed at the way he’d leapt up as she’d grabbed his butt, and with a quick glance back to make sure David was nose deep in the bookshelves, he reached out and gave her ass cheek a quick pinch as he waltzed passed her, hearing her yelp and drop her folder as he did so.

He left the evidence room with a smirk, heading back to his desk and keeping a low profile though he knew she was scrambling to collect the papers off the floor in the wake of his shameless grab.

“You okay?” Rossi asked, his brows raised and watching the girl rearrange all the papers into a neat pile, a flustered look on her face.

“Yeah, just thought I saw a spider,” She said, her voice breezy though her heart racing was anything but. She would have her revenge for that, she swore.

If Spencer wanted to play that game, then it was on.

Two days later, she had all but strolled into work with a shit eating grin, and he knew she was plotting something then. She had been unnaturally quiet on the car ride, had tried to keep her glances at him sparse, though he caught the little smile that tugged at her lips whenever he looked at her.

“What?” He tried, despite the fact she shook her head in refusal, her eyes already sparked with mischief, “What? What’s that look for?”

“Nothing, just concentrate on the road, Spence,” She said, though he heard her toes tapping together with delight, and she sighed dreamily as she looked at him. Though he was under no illusion that it had come from a place of endearment, no matter how much she adored him. Because of course she loved him more than anything, he had no doubt about that, yet he also knew she loved a sweet serving of revenge just as much, and it was for that reason her smile alone worried him a little.

“Oh, nothing, really?” He said with narrowed eyes, though he felt the infectious beam spreading on his face because he loved seeing her happy even if it undoubtedly was coming at his expense, “So I shouldn’t be expecting salt in the sugar shaker, hm? Or a water balloon under my seat?”

“No, absolutely not,” She feigned innocence, reaching over to squeeze his hand in hers with a guiltless expression, “I am much more creative than that, Spence. I’m going big or going home, honey, you should know that by now,”

Spencer snickered, pulling her hand up for a sweet kiss to the back of her knuckles, “I don’t know why I expected otherwise,”

The look of the cat that got the cream returned, and she merely hummed along to the radio. And oddly enough, Spencer was excited to see what she had hidden up her sleeve if it meant he could make her so childishly excited. He thought about embellishing his freight when she inevitably jumped out at him or had a can of worms pop out of his desk drawer, just to have her seem fulfilled just that bit longer.

He didn’t care how much of an idiot it made him look, he was already a fool in love.

Spencer trailed a few paces behind her as they stepped out onto the sixth floor, and he knew she had something truly diabolical planned because she was so brazen as to lean up and press a kiss to his mouth in the elevator, pressing her body against his and letting her velvet tongue slip into his mouth tenderly. He could have slammed a hand on the emergency stop button right then and there, could have devoured her mouth and her lips and her hot kisses some more until he stumbled out of the doors drunken and idle on her intoxicating touch.

He made a move to caress the back of her head with one of his large hands, weave his nails through her scalp to hold her tight to him, only for her to part quickly, leaving his cheeks flushed and his lungs craving more than just oxygen.

“For good luck,” She said with a chirp, a skip to her steps as the metal doors slid open, and she danced away from him with a grin that told him his day was about to be swiftly ruined by whatever it was she had organised.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked with a mildly worried tone, not letting her get away from him too easily as he paced behind her, his lean legs weighed down and skittish by the fact his cock was quickly getting hard at the spritely woman who had him trailing her like a dog begging for a bone. He tried not to think of the irony in those words, his expression conflicted between interested and hesitant, “Bugsy?”

“I thought you were supposed to be a genius. It means good luck, Spence,” She teased through a wry smile as she plonked herself at her desk chair, swivelling around to face him almost immediately, looking up at him through thick, roguish lashes, “Oh! Hotch says he wants the Oregon files done today, pretty boy,”

Because it couldn't be honey or baby or the other nice names she’d taken to calling him, but she could get away with the same name the entire team had called him for over ten years.

Taking a final glance at her face that had chaos written all over it, Spencer held his tongue, looping the strap of his satchell over his head and gently placing it on his desk, his forest hues watching as she logged onto her computer, trying to keep her excitement subtle as she grinned into her keyboard clicks.

Spencer Reid had learned quickly never to start something with that girl that he couldn’t finish. And yet, by a stroke of boldness and lust, he had gotten caught up in the whirlwind of their excursions. He had forgotten in between the soft touches and gentle kisses and soppy exchanges just how hellish she could be when she wanted.

Shaking off whatever that look on her face meant, he rolled his draw out of his desk, the report he’d been half way through typing up laying where he had left it last night before Hotch had told them to wrap up for the day.

Pulling the manilla folder from his desk, he swore his heart leaped into his throat as a piece of thin, lacy fabric had appeared beneath his scribbles of handwriting, laughing at the look on his face when he spotted it sitting there in his drawer.

He’d never seen her wear the satin, red thong before, but judging by the way his mind raced like a gelding let loose to conjure images of her in them, he didn’t seem to find it difficult imagining it. The lining was a gossamer mesh, small posies decorating the front in subtle detailing, but it was the floss-like string that trailed down the back that made him stutter, because there was no way that was covering anything important even if it tried.

He heard a small giggle, and his head shot up to the offender, only catching the back of her head as she hid into her keyboard. He knew his cheeks were already flushing with poker hot flames, he felt them as much prickling and biting with heat, and he swore the shudder that ran down his spine was involuntary when he reached out to brush the fabric with his fingertip, testing the waters to see if there were really even there. Spencer’s jaw had slacked open uselessly, and she made it a mental note to tease him that she had finally been able to render the man who could tell her Thomas Edison’s childhood pets in alphabetical order speechless.

“You alright, Spence?” JJ asked with concern lacing her fair brows, because her heels seemed to have made no sound as she had been walking by, unless they had and he’d been entirely wrapped up in his punishment to notice.

He slammed the drawer shut, loud enough to attract the attention of Morgan who was nose deep in his own report, and Spencer nearly cursed when his thumb got caught in between the pieces of wood, choosing to smash his lips together tightly instead and nod wordlessly.

“Something the matter, pretty boy?” Bugsy asked, feigning naivety as she swivelled around in her wheely chair, and he could do nothing but look at her with terrorred eyes, because he had hugely underestimated her with the can of worms idea. Though he couldn’t help but think that’s exactly what she’d opened in showing him that underwear.

He wondered, in between thinking of excuses to give JJ as to why he had looked so disoriented, if she had a matching set.

“T-tired,” He managed to bleat, his thumb throbbing where the pain had surged up his arm, and it seemed his pathetic justification half worked as JJ shot him wary eyes and a small smile, one that said she would let him off with that dumb response for now.

Bugsy blinded him with a grin entirely cheshire, and she drew her file to her chest as she stood from her seat, following in JJ’s footsteps towards her boss’s office.

“Oh, just so you know, I have it in black too,” She said almost too casually, sticking her head over his desk with a sly pull of her lips, as if she was doing nothing more than letting him know to expect rain in an hour or so.

And he could do nothing but stare after her, his finger still aching from his mistake, begging himself not to take another peek at the divine material sitting just inches away from him.

Spencer knew then, if he hadn’t figured it out already in the seven years he’d wanted her, that he was fucked.

2. The one where they almost get caught on a date.

She sipped the straw with a coy smile, the whipped cream and cherry only making the thick drink sweeter to the taste as he watched her intently.

“Good?” He asked with a cottony mouth and her lips popped off the straw, her mouth exploding with strawberry goodness.

“Gotta admit, it’s kind of living up to the ‘best milkshakes in town’” She replied swooping in to pop the glacé cherry between her painted lips as Spencer took a sip from his own double chocolate delight, not missing the way her eyes lit up as she crunched into the fruit. Pushing her cone shaped glass onto his side of the sticky wooden table, she gestured the straw his way, “Swaps?”

He smiled, because he loved sharing his things with her. He might have found it annoying had it been anyone else because he had always had his things and other people’s things separate. He’d always kept his things to himself, not selfishly or maliciously, merely for the fact he liked having his own things uncontaminated. But with her it was different. Spencer would give her anything she wanted, which included a sip of milkshake here and there. His whole left leg if she asked.

Spencer’s almond curls fell over his forehead as he leaned down to sip the strawberry shake, sliding his own over to her awaiting hands, the cold glass moist with precipitate under his fingers. Yet he watched her, her lips pulling into a satisfied smile as she took a gulp, the two of them staring each other down with sickly sweet, adoring glances.

“Good?” She repeated back to him, and he nodded, a large, broad hand reaching over the table to swipe a touch of whipped cream from her cheek, her skin soft and hot as hell under his advance.

“Delicious,” He said, and without really thinking of the consequences, licked the cream from the tip of his thumb, his pink lips making a lewd smack as he did so.

She watched him with hawk eyes, and he had a glowing sense of smugness as she shook her head to herself.

“You’re not being fair,” She grumbled, huffing and slumping back in the squeaky diner seat, and his hand quickly chased hers over the table, grabbing it into a loving entwine of fingers and palms.

“What’s not fair?” He asked, though the shit eating grin told her he knew exactly what he was doing and she nudged him with her sneaker for it.

“You. Looking like a damn porn star drinking your milkshake.” She said, and he felt his cheeks twinge with a blush as she chuckled, squeezing their fingers together to tell him she was only joking.

“Seems I’ve moved up in the world of explicit professions. First you called me a stripper, now I’ve been bumped up to porn star,” He teased, remembering the confusion that had written on her face the day they’d met. Spencer knew it had nothing to do with his freaky memory, he’d known she was special the second that door had opened, he knew everything Bugsy was committed to memory for the fact he couldn’t forget her even if he tried.

She shrugged, a smirk on her lips, “What can I say, you’re a sought out man. You could charge double if you got Morgan in on it,”

He laughed, shaking his head, “Only double?”

“Maybe throw in a Valentine’s day discount for your loving girlfriend,” She added with a million watt grin, and he rolled his eyes, hating how he could do nothing but indulge her when she was like this.

“Ofcourse, I can't have pretty girls paying for things,” Spencer said, because he was somewhat confident now about flirting with her, knowing it would have the full desired effect and more. “Just out of interest, are we still talking about Morgan being involved?”

“Well, I was going to give him the evening off to spend with his own girlfriend, but if you’re really so insistent-” He shot her a raised brow and she giggled, leaning forward to kiss the thumb that had been slowly stroking the back of her hand, “Always just me and you, honey,”

He smiled earnestly at that, and they exchanged a look that said those five words were much more set in stone than the teasing may suggest. Just them, always. Spencer could get used to that.

She leaned over the table for a quick peck on the lips because as much as she loved him, and god did she love him, they had quickly found they were just as embarrassed by affection in public as the other.

“I’m going to use the bathroom before food comes,” She said, slipping out of the latex red seats, his head following her as she waltzed over to the loo, the two of them looking back at one another with small smiles like lovesick children.

She loved the rhythm they had found, albeit the secrecy. It was nights like this, when they were able to act like a normal couple, when they were able to kiss and hold hands and flirt and look at each other with such heat it should have been public indecency, that she knew she wanted him forever. Because if this was how good it felt in private, she could only wonder how good it would be to tell people she was enamoured by one very handsome, very clever, Spencer Reid. Yet she loved having something for just them. In the lives of people who examined each other for a living, having secrets were like gold dust. Let alone a secret between profilers. That was pure jackpot material.

He smiled into his lap, because he was truly happy for the first time in years. He had everything he’d ever wanted handed to him on a silver platter. He had the girl he’d loved for nearly seven years playing footsies with him while he eyed her lips and tried to analyse just how much she would hate being one of those couples that made out over milkshakes and burgers even if it was all he wanted to do.

Spencer Reid had drawn the winning hand, no cheats or tricks or card counting needed. Just being him, awfully, nerdy, awkwardly him.

He leaned in to take another sip of his milkshake, because they really were the best, only for his contented face to drop the second he saw four people walk through the door all smiles and fancy suits and heels, entirely unaware of what they were stumbling on.

Spencer had never fumbled around his pockets for his phone faster, hitting the call button on her profile picture, which happened to be her asleep on the sofa with Sergio’s feet in her face while Niko peeked out at the camera from under the blanket, because Spencer thought it was possibly his favourite photo of their little family. She answered on the first ring, and he could just see the confusion written on her face before she even spoke.

“Spence, I love you but I’m peeing right now, did you miss me that much-”

“Garcia and Morgan just walked in,” He whisper yelled, cupping his hand over the mic, whipping a look over his shoulder where their friends were standing at the host’s desk, waiting to be served. “They brought their partners, they’re staying in, we gotta go,”

Bugsy’s face tightened, her panties down to her ankles, Brittany Spears’ If You Seek Amy blasting in the women’s bathroom and she wondered, on bated breath, if this was exactly what her life had come to.

“...Shit,”

“I’ll pay the tab and try to distract them now, you slip out and we’ll meet in the parking lot,” Spencer rushed, his brow sweating as he saw the waitress lead Morgan and Garcia’s new beau, Sam, over his way, no doubt towards the free booth next to them.

“Alright, I love you,” She quickly rushed, and he whispered it back, before the two of them hung up and realised just what a miracle it would be if the two of them got out of this undiscovered.

Morgan’s dark eyes lit up in recognition as they neared their seats, just as Spencer grabbed her purse and stashed it under his shirt, dragging her milkshake over to his side of the table to make it seem like he was alone. Not the most convincing of cover ups, but it was all he had.

“Pretty boy,” Derek called, and Spencer faked shock as best he could, though his mind was entirely consumed with whether or not Bugsy’s side of the plan was working out.

“What are you guys doing here, I thought you were taking Savannah to that fancy place on fifth,” Spencer said, his gaze trailing behind his best friend to see Savannah and Penelope too wrapped up in chatting to catch up to the boys. Savannah turned to the woman with a polite smile, excusing herself for a moment and heading towards the bathroom.

Shit. Spencer thought for a moment, watching the stunning vermillion dress trail off to the toilets, and Spencer was convinced then and there they were done for, Shit, shit, shit.

Derek looked a little guilty, “You know how it is, man. We got home late from the case, missed our reservation, had to bring my lady to the next best thing. Patty’s.” Derek chuckled and Spencer smiled fleetingly, though Derek could tell it was bothered, “You here with someone-”

“Pretty boy!” Garcia cut Morgan off, bouncing over in her pretty Dorothy-red heels to where their genius was shuffling out of the booth, fidgeting with his hands nervously. “Are you here with someone, are we totally destroying your street cred?”

“No, no. I’m here on my own, I had a hankering for milkshakes,” Spencer nodded convincingly with a taut smile as Penelope and Morgan simultaneously turned their heads to the two glasses half drunk on the table, before they looked at him with raised brows as if to wordlessly question his alibi, two milkshakes for one guy, Reid? Feeling their eyes on him, he baulked, “Like I said, hankering.”

Bugsy felt like this was some sort of Greek tragedy.

After doing her business and washing her hands in possible record time, Bugsy cracked open the door to the bathroom just enough to stick her head out, eyes scanning the restaurant for Penelope and Derek. She caught Penny’s Barbie blonde hair almost instantly, her sing song laugh travelling straight across the room into Bugsy’s ears and it was then she realised she was with a woman. The red dress spoke for itself, her hair was luscious and silky like she’d popped straight out a shampoo advert, her skin that of a bronze goddess, and she immediately clocked that it was Savannah, Derek’s new girlfriend, which made all the more sense when she caught their hunky co-worker talking to a very flustered Spencer.

The girls had shamelessly stalked her instagram in Penelope’s lair at lunch just that week and sweet heavens was a catch, if not for her job as a nurse then for the toned figure Bugsy was convinced was god playing favourites. She stared at the back of the woman’s head, whatever she’d said making Penelope chuckle and turn towards her, her head pointing right towards where the women’s bathrooms were.

Bugsy slammed the door shut, quickly retreating back into the loo and yanking at her hair in a flurry of white hot panic. God, she hoped Penelope hadn’t seen her, or things were about to get ten times more difficult to explain why the two of them were out for a meal on Valentine’s Day, whilst claiming they were entirely platonic ofcourse. She wished the door had a window or she had X-ray vision or something-

A window. A window. That was it.

Head whipping around, her eyes locked in on the two windows above each lavatory, the stall walls luckily low enough that she could see they were big enough for her to slide through if she was careful enough.

Heading back into the cubicle she had been in, she shut the door behind her, and slammed the toilet lid down to give her a step. Her chest pounded, lips pursing when she cursed Derek and Penelope for possibly the only time in her life, because their date had been going so well. And yet here she was, cracking open a window in the diner’s toilets and she wondered for a second time if this was what her life had been reduced to. But Spencer was worth it, she told herself. She’d crawl through a million diner windows if it meant she got him all to herself.

As if the universe was laughing at her, the second she’d swung the window open far enough for her to pull herself through, the bathroom door opened and she froze.

Flashing a guilty look over her shoulder, her eyes widened in fear as she made direct eye contact with the woman who had entered, her lucious brown hair falling like silk over her shoulder as she stopped in her tracks, seeing the girl clear as day over the top of the stall.

Bugsy prayed, on god’s she had never believed in she prayed that Savannah didn’t recognize her, though why would she. Unless she herself was a serial stalker. Though there seemed to be no hint of recognition in her eyes, just shock horror.

A beat of silence passed between them.

“Terrible date,” Bugsy said, thinking quickly on her feet and Savannah’s face melted into understanding.

“Ah,” She nodded, “Is he a Catfish or is he a pig?”

“Both,” Bugsy nodded with a tense smile, anything to get away from the situation where Penelope could walk in on any moment and catch her in the act. And it pained her to lie, because Spencer was the furthest thing from both of those things.

Savannah rolled her eyes, “Sorry you have a crappy date on Valentine’s day, that sucks. Need a leg up?”

“I’m good, thanks,” Bugsy said, standing on the cistern and yanking herself up, hoping she wasn’t flashing Derek’s girlfriend a nice shot of her ass. “You should try the calamari, it’s real good!”

And with that she’d pulled herself through the window legs first, dropping onto the top of Patty’s garbage bins with a ‘urgh!’, hopping off the lid immediately and dodging a heinously large rat that eyed her up for desert and flicking Spencer a quick text to say she was by the car.

Savannah chuckled with a shake of her head, heading to the toilet herself and hearing a loud bang and a curse from the other side of the wall.

Derek and Garcia watched him look down at his phone with a perturbed expression, “I really should be going anyways,” Spencer excused, his mind reeling at just how she’d managed to slip past the lot of them, though the text only read ‘Meet by car. Window.’ and he could only wonder just what the fuck she’d meant by that.

“Are you sure we’re not interrupting, Spencer?” Garcia asked, and he only shook his head.

“Nope, definitely not. The only date I’m late for is between me and Lord Tennyson,” He said, which was almost too on brand for him that they didn’t question it. Spencer nodded to her date and wished them all a good evening before rushing to the front desk, his card in hand as he asked quietly if they could get their burgers to go instead.

Morgan’s eyes narrowed at his skittish behaviour, his fidgeting fingers that tugged at his shirt, the cufflinks his mom bought him for his graduation that he only wore on special occasions glittering under the swinging, overhead diner lights.

“Is it just me or is boy wonder acting extra shifty just now?” Penelope muttered, her blonde brows furrowed behind her glasses as Morgan nodded in agreement, Savannah returning to their table with freshly washed hands, her lipstick spruced up in the bathroom mirror.

“I was thinking the exact same thing, baby girl,” Derek smelled a rat as Reid took a brown paper bag from over the counter, flashing a swift nod back to them as he all but ran out of the restaurant, his long legs carrying him even faster than usual.

He saw her dusting herself off by his car, and before he could even question what her message had been, she had turned her attention onto him with a spritely excitement and launched up to give him a hungry kiss to the lips.

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea they were coming, they told me they were going uptown,” He said, his expression worried that their night had been ruined. He gripped their to go bag pathetically, and it was only then he realised she was laughing.

“Spence it’s fine, it’s not your fault,” She reassured, pressing another delicate kiss to his face as if to ward off the negative thoughts, and he rested his free hand on her hip, trapping her between his body and the car. He pressed into her, letting himself enjoy the affection a little too much in the cover of nightfall, “We probably shouldn’t be-” He kissed her again, because he couldn’t help it, because it was like the adrenaline of almost being caught together had set his body on fire, “-doing this here though, maybe-” Again, his hand shoving the bag of food onto the roof of his car so he had free reign to cup her face entirely, -”wait until we get home just incase they come looking for you,”

He nodded dumbly, “Probably,” He agreed, though he watched her with those eyes that looked dark in the moonlight, pressed against her wanton hands that clawed at his chest, pulling him closer as an impossible oxymoron to her chaste words, because she didn’t want him to let go of her, not really.

He kissed her again, hard, because his chest was still pounding from the close call and her fingers scraped his waist, the feeling jumping straight to his crotch that was already well aware of how close they had become.

“I love you,” He said with a slight slur, idle from their affection and it was only then he opened his eyes to look at her. She looked impossibly more ravishing in the cloak of night, her eyes sparkling in the street lamps, her lips wet with his own spit, her gaze adoring and soppy and so in love, “I’m sorry if our Valentine’s day got ruined,”

“Ruined?” She said, slipping a hand into his back pocket to grab the car keys, leaning in to kiss his chin gently a couple times, “I get to spend the most romantic day of the year with my very hot boyfriend eating amazing burgers and making out on the couch until the sun comes up,”

He smiled, cheeks warmer than the freshly cooked beef steaming through the paper bag, and he couldn’t resist shooting a hand out to stop her from rounding the car to the passenger side, grabbing her jaw in one fell swoop, lifting her head to attach their lips once more, ‘one for the road’ he would excuse when he let her go, and he felt her smile into his affection. They let go with a sweet smack, and the second they did her mouth watered for more.

“That really is the best Valentine’s Day,” He agreed, swapping the car keys in her hands for the food and walking round to her side to open the door for her like a gentleman.

And that was exactly how it went. Until making out turned into more, more kisses, more intimate, more parts of themselves bared to one another for the first time, and they sat in naked silence afterwards, enjoying each other's body heat until their eyes got heavy and they fell asleep.

And Bugsy swore she would love Spencer Reid with every part of her he’d touched until the day she died.

3. The one with the fake boyfriend.

Spencer was pouring kibble when she screamed. The bag was all but spilled over the kitchen tiles as his head shot up, his entire body diverting to the direction of her yell, and before he even had time to put the bag down, perhaps step over the two shadows that dived for the rogue biscuits tumbling to the floor, he heard her footsteps tearing from their room and into the kitchen.

Because it was their room now. Not just his.

She wore black pants and a tight, white shirt with her buttons only half fastened shut. His eyes shamelessly dropped straight to her chest, a black lace bra staring back at him and he couldn’t help but be reminded of the week before, wondering for a second if they had a spare half an hour before work.

It had been eight days since they’d had sex for the first time, and the two of them were struggling all the more to keep it together. He was like a man starved of oxygen, she was a woman let out of a cage, craving one another more than they had ever thought possible. Because before he hadn’t been given that taste of sweet heaven, hadn’t known every inch of her the way he did now, and Spencer thought he might not be able to ever know anything more intoxicating than how she looked in his bed when she-

He was quick to put his hands over her cheeks as she panted, horror in her gaze as she held her phone in her hand, damn near shaken for words, “What? What is it?”

“Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick,” She murmured, her eyes never tearing away from her phone screen, and he promptly took the device out from her grasp, his hazel hues roving over the bright light.

His lips parted, and he felt his stomach flurry into life as he saw the raunchy photo she’d taken of her lingerie, their shared bathroom in the background and what looked to be a toothbrush in the top of the photo, clearly having been in the middle of brushing when she’d taken the photo in the mirror.

His gaze went to the top of the screen, because he certainly hadn’t heard his phone buzz on the counter, nor would it have been such an issue if she had sent it to him, though he suspected he was the intended recipient anyway.

Spencer frowned, “Who’s MILF?”

Bugsy looked at him guiltily. “It’s JJ.” She said through a cottonmouth.

“You know what that word means right?” He said, and she rolled her eyes because of course he was focusing on all the wrong things, though she guessed that was down to his tented trousers and the rouge that crawled up his neck into the apple of his cheeks because Spencer always found an excuse to cram silences with words.

“Yes, don’t worry, you’re the only one I want to ilf for real.” She said, a hand running through her hair in panic as she looked over his shoulder at the text conversation.

“Can’t you just delete it?” Spencer asked, his eyes scanning the photo again because it certainly would have made his morning receiving a photo like that.

“Not on messenger, not when- oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bugsy’s voice got louder with every with every curse, and she ripped the phone from his hand when the three little dots appeared, letting her know JJ was in fact typing. Spencer was knocked from his daze staring at the photo, realising that JJ was a profiler just like any of the rest of them, and she could very easily figure out who that photo had been meant for, “She’s typing, she’s typing!”

Spencer took a deep breath for both of them, his hands resting on her upper arms in gentle motions, “Alright, let’s just calm down, she might just be a little confused, I mean you don’t usually send her photo’s like that do you?” He said soothingly, only for her to let out a small screech, and he saw ‘incoming call from MILF’ written in bright white across the top of the screen, “Okay, I’m begging you to change that name, that is so weird thinking of JJ as-”

“SPENCER,” She barked, handing him the phone, “I can’t speak right now, I don’t know what to say, I’ll screw it all up,”

His eyes widened, ushering her hand back to her ear, “I can’t answer it, then she’ll know we’re together while you look like- like that,”

“We live together, I don’t think I’ve worn pants here once in the past five years,” She whisper yelled to him, the ringing going on only longer with every dial thrumming right to her already racing heart, “Oh god, I’m gonna answer it, I’m going to- Good morning, Jennifer, how’s the oatmeal in the Jareau-LaMontagne household?”

“Please tell me that photo was meant for a guy. Or atleast Penelope,” JJ’s voice was full of surprise, and Bugsy already knew she had her fingers rubbing her eye sockets, “Are you seeing someone?”

“Uh, y-yeah?” Bugsy stammered, exchanging a wide eyed glance with Spencer, “A guy from… a bar! I’m seeing a guy from a bar,”

“Oh, Bugsy, why didn’t you say?” JJ asked with a girlish delight, and Bugsy shrugged before she remembered JJ couldn’t see that, and she had to think on her feet for a response.

“It’s just casual- it’s new and totally casual right now,” She stammered, hoping the lie was convincing enough that JJ wouldn’t poke for more answers. But it was JJ, the same JJ who loved filling Emily’s shoes as big sister when she was away, and ‘totally casual’ seemed to not make the cut for explanations.

“Is he cute, how old is he?” JJ rebutted as she submerged Henry’s empty cereal bowl in the sink full of soapy water, pressing the phone between her shoulder and ear.

The girl’s gaze trailed over Spencer’s face, where he had gone deadly silent to listen in on their conversation. He flashed her a devilish grin at JJ’s mothering tone, and she shyly looped a finger through his belt.

“The cutest,” Bugsy replied, with a small beam, and she watched Spencer’s gaze turn doting and sweet. And that time, she hadn’t been lying.

–

“Oh come on, I want to meet this guy,” JJ said, bringing her coffee cup up to her lips. It wasn’t even that Emily had asked her to look after Bug the first time she’d left for Paris, then again when she left for London, that made her so protective. Moreso that fact Bugsy was a little sister if she’d ever had something close to one. Being the youngest herself, she knew what it was like to live in her own sister’s shadow, a feeling that had followed her around her entire life.

If JJ was missing Emily, she knew Bug was feeling the same tenfold.

Either way, the second they’d gotten into the office all of three days ago after the incident, JJ hadn’t stopped badgering her about her new secret fling she had.

“He’s busy, super super busy,” She brushed her off and Spencer smirked into his book, his desk chair turned away from where JJ leaned against her desk. Penelope’s heels clicked against the BAU floor as she wandered over to them, a steaming mug of tea in her own hand.

“Who’s super super busy?” She asked, cutting in half way through the conversation to hear only half of the story, and Bugsy shied away into her lap.

“Bugsy’s secret boyfriend,” JJ raised her brows at the woman who almost dropped her mug, her jaw hitting the floor as she looked at the girl incredulously.

“Did my ears just deceive me? Have you been hiding something from me, cause you know I’ll hack into your social media before you could even say Barbie Dream House,” Penelope said with an aghast expression.

“He’s just a guy I met at a bar, it’s not a big deal,” She brushed them off, already digging the lie deeper, and she only could hope the reward would be a bigger pay out when she thought back the night after the restaurant.

She’d tell them anything if it meant she could spend another night like that.

“Not a big deal?” JJ said doubtfully, flicking a look at the girl, “Come on, I want to meet the guy who’s the best sex you ever had,”

Spencer slammed his book shut, and twirled around in his office chair with just enough time to watch her groan, and bury her face in her hands.

“What was that?” He asked, his eyes lit up with a boyish excitement as he resisted the urge to smirk at her, because he felt the glare before he’d even seen it.

“Nothing,” She snapped at him, eyes laced with an unspoken warning for him to watch his step because they weren’t stupid enough to ignore his sudden interest in her lovelife, “Don’t you have a report due?”

He shrugged with rosy cheeks, his expression that of barely concealed delirium as he watched her flush under the pressure of his prideful grin.

“You know me, I’ll catch up on that later, let’s talk about this new thing you have,” He brushed off, just as Rossi paced past their mother’s meeting, heading for the roundtable room.

“We have a case, kids. Life waits for no man, no matter how juicy his gossip,” David said profoundly as ever, and the four of them rose to follow behind him like a trail of ducklings. Penelope’s heels clicked at his side, and she cast a quick glance over her shoulder at where JJ was interrogating their youngest agent some more.

“You want the 411?” She mumbled, and the old man sighed, watching the girl's floral hair ties bounce with her pigtails at every step.

“Shoot. Wife number one ruined Real Housewives for me, I guess I need something good,” Rossi said with tired eyes, as Penelope scooched closer.

“Bugsy has a new secret boyfriend,” The bubbly woman said in between a million watt grin.

He raised his eyebrows at her, flicking a quick look back at the girl who looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole when JJ pushed her for details on their first date.

“No kidding,” He murmured, tilting his head in consideration how he hadn’t seen the signs, he knew well enough now to know the look of a honeymoon phase. He’d had about fifty of them.

“Still awaiting details on how he looks, but I reckon a quick deep dive in her socials will get me what I want,” Penelope added as if putting together a report on an UnSub, though the tech wizz would argue mystery man was just as much a person of interest than any of the others they went after.

He looked at her for a moment, her chirpy tone almost a dichotomy of the invasive stalking she was revving herself up for, and he nearly stopped in his tracks for a second.

“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” He said, with a serious undertone, shaking his head, “I’d hate to be the guy on the end of your wirey maze, Garcia,”

But Spencer’s smile had yet to be wiped from his face, in fact he thought he might just get JJ to say it again into a microphone because the ego boost was set to last a lifetime.

He promised he’d make it up to her for the annoyingly arrogant attitude he was sporting, but then any man with half a brain would if he’d been told he was the best she’d ever had, let alone one with a brain that had already engraved the sound of that into his hypothalamus.

And Spencer knew just how he was going to say sorry.

–

“Wait, so does this mean that your new hypothetical boyfriend is better than Sean?” Penelope said through the screen as they lounged on the jet on the way home from the case. Hotch’s head shot up from where he was reading the newspaper, and he couldn’t even bring himself to look at the youngest agent before he had practically thrown himself out of his seat.

“I’m going for coffee,” He said before anyone could interject and the sight of their boss all but running down the aisle towards the kitchenette made her throw her head in her hands once more.

“I’m begging you, never make me talk about sex infront of Hotch ever again,” She groaned, and Rossi huffed, clamping his own book shut and shuffling past them to meet where Aaron was spending almost too much time with his head in the cupboard, “Better yet, don’t make me talk about sex with his brother infront of him again,”

“For the record, old man number two doesn’t want to hear about who jiggles your Jimmies either,” He grumbled, and Bugsy carded her fingers through her hair, too embarrassed to look at the two men that cowered in the back of the jet.

“Jiggles your Jimmies?” Blake repeated, her brow furrowing, “At least, I’m not that old,”

“Stop avoiding the question, Princess,” Penelope chided, and Morgan laughed as Bugsy huffed, turning her head away as if she hadn’t heard, “Is he?”

“That’s usually what ‘the best I’ve ever had’ means, Pen,” She snipped through blazing cheeks, and she could feel the smug-shit eating grin coming from Spencer before she’d even looked at him, “Now, could we talk about literally anything else, please?”

There was a lapse of silence where Morgan exchanged a look with JJ, and the blonde picked under her nail, trying to think of anything else to say before she cracked, because it was rare that Bugsy ever sought anyone out so fondly.

And possibly because she knew Emily would need the complete, padded out, full update when JJ inevitably called her to rinse her with details.

“How many kids does he want?” The words fell from JJ’s mouth, not really thinking much about the way Reid’s face was claret red. He had never liked lewd conversations.

And he wanted to blurt out three, as many as possible, as many as she wants and then another one, but he couldn’t because that would inevitably give their secret away completely.

“Does he have a stable job?” Blake chimed in, ever the mother considering if the mystery man would be a practical partner, “Is he gentle? Angry men make for terrible fathers,”

“Is he gentle in bed?” Penelope added, her glasses glinting in the light of her computer screen, “Does he do the thing where he-”

Bugsy growled, half way between a groan and a scream, looking between her team with wide eyes, “You’re all perverted, hedonistic, gossip girls, and I beg you leave this alone before I join Hotch and Rossi in the cupboards,”

“Cupboards are full,” Hotch barked, almost warningly because he didn’t think he could look at her until the subject of her and Sean banging was entirely out of his head.

And they went quiet again, seeming to take the hint that Bugsy didn’t appreciate their poking. Morgan gave her an apologetic yet amused smile as he slipped his headphones on, Blake pulled out a puzzle book, JJ retired to her side of the couch for a moment of shut eye, though her brain was filled with what she guessed Emily would say about her little sister having a real life boyfriend.

God help the kid who tries screwing that psycho over.

Spencer smiled dopily into his book, his hands gripping the leather bound spine tightly, and it was the first time she’d looked at him the whole plane ride. His chest puffed as he met her with a cocky smile that he barely tried to hide, and he swiftly received a kick to the shin for his rare ego.

But he didn’t care, the sting in his leg all but none existent because she hadn’t been too cruel with her chastising, and he couldn't wait to kiss the anger out of her the second they were alone. He loved her temper, loved her fire and the warmth it gave him, and he thought then there wasn’t a single thing about her that he wished to change. Even if the scowl and pout on her face didn’t exactly suit her.

His smile was blinding the entire way home, even when they hopped into his car, and he looked at her with ill-concealed excitement, “Better than Sean?” Spencer asked, hopefully, and she tutted, swatting his thigh.

“Spencer,” She hissed, though his eyes didn’t leave her, waiting for a response, “Fine, yes, better than Sean. Best I’ve ever had, right?”

Spencer all but pranced up the stairs into their apartment ready to live up to his new moniker.

4. The one where someone finds out.

“Can I borrow your deodorant?” Bugsy asked, as she slowly slipped a piping hot cup of coffee onto Penelope’s desk, making sure not to spill so much as a drop over the edge of the cute octopus mug.

“Oh, of course! I always have something spare for my girls.” The tech wizz was quick to fish through her bag for the aerosol, handing it to the woman as she snuck a hand under her armpit to apply. “You ever need tampons, a box of cookies, or prescription painkillers, Garci is your gal. Though preferably don’t tell Hotch about that last one,”

Bugsy smiled, “You’re an angel,” She said, as she sprayed herself quickly, “I left my stuff in, uh, secret boyfriend’s car. If you got a spare bra lying around your bag, you’d really be a life saver,”

Penelope’s eyes turned catlike as she narrowed them at the girl, “I said I’m your gal, not Mary Poppins,” She replied, looking up at Bugsy with a smug smile as she played with the fluffy end of her pen, “So, you guys hook up in his car or something?”

Bug pressed her lips together tightly, wondering whether she could let too much slip to the woman who was known for tracking her friends’ phones like they were damn Sim characters on the loose. And despite their relationship being so top secret, it had been five months of sneaking around. Five months of keeping her smiles and butterflies and silly little notions of just how great Spencer was entirely free from girl talk. She knew the moment they told their team, there would be questions and rumours across departments. There would be prodding and interrogating and paperwork to fill out with Hotch, and they more than likely wouldn’t be allowed to be in the field together.

Which brought her an even more worried thought. What if she was forced to move teams?

Spencer certainly wouldn’t be the one to move, he had practically made a home in the BAU before any of them even knew she existed. And despite the fact they felt more like a family to her than the houses in every country ever had, she would leave them if it meant Spencer could stay.

It was different with JJ and Will. They were together, yes, had been in the field together once or twice, but it wasn’t as if they were on the same team, liable to letting their relationship muddy the waters of worklife. She wasn’t entirely sure what the rules were of relationships in the team, and she knew Hotch would become suspicious almost instantly if she asked; knew she could only lie to him for so long about this so called secret boyfriend before he became overbearingly fatherlike and weaselled his way into her head with those stern eyes and that patient law degree.

She nodded after considering spilling her thoughts out to Penelope, because as much as she loved Spencer and loved that he was her best friend even before he was her boyfriend, she missed girl talk. The same girl talk he had no idea how to navigate, that was a complete mystery to him with its hidden politics and rules that he was convinced were purposely made up to confuse guys so they wouldn’t be able to figure out what women were talking about. She missed having someone there to hear just how Spencer would stroke her hair before they went to sleep, when her eyes were closed and her breathing was slowly evening out and he thought she was already dozing, when she would glance at him through bleary eyes because she knew he would be watching her, his eyes wide and fat with love as he looked at her like he was a kid seeing his Christmas presents lined up neatly beneath the tree. She wanted someone else to know how he managed to make her coffee perfectly, how he would wake up five minutes before her, drag himself out of bed to brush his teeth and cook her breakfast at the weekends, how she was trying harder to stay tidy for his sake because she saw the way he cleaned her messes up for her without complaints or grumbles. Bugsy wanted someone else to know that he would kiss her like she was going to be ripped away from him at any given moment, and that she melted into a puddle at his feet when he asked to shower with her just last week and they got to spend forty minutes under the relaxing hot water, just holding each other close enough to feel every breath and smile and laugh and everything else they ended up doing when they were naked.

She loved having him all to herself, truly. Yet there was part of her that wanted to scream to the entire office the second there was a lull in conversation that she was in love with him more truly, deeply, insatiably than she had ever imagined anyone could be.

Penelope squealed, kicking her legs and pulling her second wheely chair out for Bugsy to sit down in, “Tell me everything, were you in the back or the front? Oh my god were you in the trunk, can you imagine that? Didn’t the seat belts get in the way? What about the handbrake? And the wheel-”

Bugsy laughed with a shake of her head, but she obliged her anyway as she threw herself into the seat, if not for a spare five minutes of relaxing before she started her paperwork.

“Slow down! I’ll give you three questions, tops, and that’s all you’re getting out of me, Garcia,” She chuckled, cracking open her Dr Pepper can and taking a sip of the cold fizz.

“Three?” Garcia cried incredulously, “You’re like a genie in a bottle only you withhold secrets instead of granting wishes,”

“I can make it two if you want, smartass,” Bugsy teased, and she giggled at the way Penelope glared at her, like she was ready to lay one of her perfectly manicured nails around her throat and wrangle her for the truth in a rare bout of Penelope Garcia rage.

“Okay, umm, first question,” Penelope held a finger up, pressing her peach painted lips together because she only had three magic wishes, “What was it like, your guys first time?”

Bugsy smiled, melting inside because speaking to Spencer about how good he was in bed seemed like a little too on the nose even for her, and she’d kept it hidden for god knows how long, “It was good, but not just good in that way. Although believe me it was good in that way too,” She said with a bashful giggle, her cheeks heating on impact and Penelope squealed, “I felt safe, and he kept telling me he loved me, and when we were done he went to the store and bought me strawberry milk because I told him it was my favourite,”

Penelope’s eyes melted into puppy dog ones, her lips pulling to reveal her pearly white smile and she quietly ‘aww’ed at the sentiment, her brows tugging together in earnest joy as she watched Bugsy flick the metal tab of the can lid to avoid eye contact.

“What an angel, who did you pay to find you this guy?” Penelope asked and the girl’s chuckled together. She rocked side to side on her desk chair, mid thought of her very important question, “Alright, alright, next one! Have you told Spencer yet?”

Bugsy froze, flicking a look to Penelope because surely there was no way she could have guessed from that short exchange. She knew Garcia was a hotshot behind a screen, but she would have to be given a spot as a profiler if she’d managed to figure out just from that one question who it was she was trying so desperately to keep a secret.

“What do you mean?” She said, trying to hide the way her throat had run dry, and Penny looked at her as if she had lost a few brain cells in the midst of the honeymoon phase.

“I mean, it sounds like you guys spend a lot of time in your room. Spence surely must have crossed paths with him by now?” Garcia clarified, and Bugsy’s brows lifted in what she hoped was well concealed panic.

“Yes- yes,” She cleared her throat, wishing the stuttering away as she scrambled to cover her tracks, “Spencer has met him, he said he’s a great guy, real baseball whizz,”

‘Great guy’ didn’t quite cut it, she thought with a chiding voice in her head, but she was sure Spencer would forgive her with a small bat of her lashes, a sweet kiss even. She even thought of a way that would convince him just how sorry she was for limiting him to just the word great, because he was so much more than that to her; she thought of an apology, one where he would be so smitten and drunk on kisses and other things that she could tell him he was the dumbest boy alive and he wouldn’t care.

Because she was all his, loved him far beyond ‘great’ and the idea of that alone cut his IQ from 187 to a mere 5 on a good day.

Penelope smirked, like she knew a sudden shortcut in her system, “Remind me to interrogate Reid later about this ‘Home Run’ you’re bringing over for bang bang,”

Bugsy snickered, making a mental note to remind Spencer where he suddenly fell in her lie, when in truth she had been thinking about the time he’d subbed for someone on Morgan’s team. She’d been thinking about how proud he looked, how he’d smiled for days after, how Morgan and Hotch picked him up and screamed with happiness at their younger agent, but she definitely hadn’t been thinking about how his hair had looked sweaty and full of curls on his neck, hadn’t at all been thinking that his face looked that extra bit kissable when he laughed.

If it had been Emily, she might have been screwed. She swore her sister could sniff out a lie from her like a bloodhound to a body. It was why she had always been caught sneaking out, always been caught smoking blunts behind the shed, it was why Emily knew for a blatant fact whether she was really sick when she’d claimed she was too ill to go to school. If it had been Emily, she would have been six feet under for that small white lie alone, but Garcia wasn’t Emily. And so Garcia believed her.

“Oh, third question, you guys are being like, safe right?” Penelope said, with rare concern swirling in her dark brown eyes, and Bugsy sighed with a knowing smile, because it felt like the team did nothing but mother her nowadays, “Because as much as I would love to be an aunt all over again, I don’t think the world is ready for a baby Bugsy,”

“I know what I’m doing, Pen. My IUD doesn’t run out for another couple years, we’re totally fine,” She replied, subconsciously running a thumb over the inner part of her arm where the rod lay under her skin until she felt the odd poking of the device. Spencer had insisted he wore a condom the first few times just to be extra cautious, had begun to tell her the fact sex was only safe 99 percent of the time with an IUD alone before she had kissed him to politely and lovingly tell him to stop overthinking things. However they had run out after the sixth time, and instead of stopping to go run out and get more, he’d decided perhaps they would be safe enough, or perhaps he had stopped caring the second she took her clothes off.

Penelope grinned, pretending to wipe her brow, “Okay, phew. If you ever need anything, I’m talking condoms, lube, maybe you guys are getting it on and you realise you’re out of batteries for your-”

“Ah,” Bugsy winced, sticking her fingers in her ears and hopping out of her seat to head for the door, the feeling that Penelope was toeing the line of boundaries the way she usually did only this time she was unknowingly talking about Spencer, “Thankyou, Garcia, however I’m going to get going, breakfast is calling, and Dr Pepper is not cutting it this morning,” She said backing away towards the door, looking at the bubbly blonde who watched her go with a cunning smile. Because Penelope always meant well, even if she trampled over boundaries sometimes, or lacked the perfect words to say, she always had the best of intentions, and for a moment the guilt tugged at Bugsy’s stomach for being so abrasive in leaving.

“As long as you’re being safe, I am happy to know you’re getting some,” The woman brushed off, whirling around her desk to log into her software, her manicured nails clicking against her keyboard at the speed of light.

Pausing with her hand on the door knob, she looked back at Penelope with softened eyes, a small dose of sentiment trickling into her tone, “Pen?” She said in a quiet voice and Garcia stopped, looking back to the youngest agent with wondering eyes, “Don’t ever change,”

And with that she left to grab herself a coffee, because the guilt of keeping secrets was too much for the early morning.

–

She saw him coming mid way through lunch, Penelope tucked behind Morgan’s desk, stirring a spoonful of peanut butter into her oatmeal pot, steam whirling from the container with a sweet scent. Morgan leaned against Bugsy’s workspace, his arms crossed over his chest as the two of them chattered, Bugsy picking at a punnet of fat, red grapes.

Spencer came down the stairs, his eyes already trained on her the second he’d left Rossi’s office after handing some files over to the veteran agent, and he fought the small blush away from the apples of his cheeks. Because even after five months of calling her his girlfriend, just the sight of her glancing up at him with that look in her eyes had him bashful.

His hand dived into his bag before he could forget, a rare and near impossible occurrence for him only he’d found he had the tendency to get sidetracked when she was around, usually looking at her expressive face when she was talking, or getting lost in the light scent of her hair that wafted over to him, watching the way her hands fiddled with her stationary when she was thinking. Bugsy made Spencer Reid forget things, and it was for that reason he knew she wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before, not that he needed reminding of it.

“Here you go, you left your deodorant in my car,” Spencer exclaimed, producing a pink can from his satchell and handing it over to her with little thought to the chaos those ten words had created.

Because Spencer had unknowingly just set off a time bomb, one that threatened five months worth of covert operations. Unintentionally, ofcourse, because those five months had been just as hard on him. He had just been excited to see her.

Bugsy felt herself go a sickly colour, felt her stomach drop and the wind whoosh from her lungs at the sound of it and her head whipped to Garcia before she could think to be even the littlest bit subtle, because never had there been a clue about their little secret so blatant and open for the taking.

And as if that hadn’t been the nail in the coffin, as if the small look of confusion that washed over Penelope’s face hadn’t given away the small feeling of puzzle pieces slotting together in that wonderfully big brain of hers, Spencer plonked a drink from the cafe down the street on her desk.

It was a pink liquid, thin and sickly looking, with a whipping of fresh cream on top, and a glacé cherry to make it look extra delicious.

“I got you a strawberry milk as well because I know you wanted one last night,” He said, a helpful smile on his face as he slid it over the table to her. It wasn’t the brand that she loved, or the Nesquik powder she kept stashes of in their cupboards, but he knew she would devour it nonetheless.

And yet she didn’t look at him with that loving gaze like she usually did when he brought her presents. Didn’t throw him a ‘thankyou’ dipped in hidden affection, or a small squeeze of his hand that they usually could get away with because they’d always been affectionate.

Instead, the second the words had left his mouth, her eyes went so wide he saw the whites of her sclera, saw her pupil shrink as her head jerked around to Penelope who sat in Morgan’s desk chair, the oatmeal in her hands shaking as she lifted her dirty spoon to point at the young woman.

“Pen-” Bugsy started with a warning tone, the panic laced in her words that were quickly overtaken by Penelope’s voice yelling, her eyes equally as peeled back wide with horror.

“OH! OH! You- YOU- And the- and the milkshake- and you said- OH,” Penelope screeched flicking her porridge covered utensil like a teacher pointing at a naughty student, and she was quick to turn her attention to Reid, “AND YOU! YOU- OH GOD-”

“Woah, woah, what’s with the yelling, baby girl?” Morgan asked earnestly, holding his hands up in surrender to the woman who had cut through the working silence of the office, some of the other agents lifting their heads from their work to see what the commotion was about. Even Hotch had shot a look to the BAU floor from his office, and judging by the annoyed look on his face as he stood up from his desk, they didn’t have a whole load of time to shut Penelope up before Hotch began demanding answers.

This was it, Bugsy told herself. This was the moment she’d been dreading, when they would be outed to the whole office, not even getting to decide when or what they told the team that could soften the blow of a cover story so huge. The moment when Hotch would likely get her to put in a transfer form by the end of the week with a slap on the wrist.

But she wasn’t ready to leave; Bugsy didn’t want to be anywhere that wasn’t with her team, even if there was a grey area in the rules about what she and Spencer could and couldn’t do in the field.

And so she sprung towards Penelope, a hand grabbing the arms of the wheely chair Penelope sat on, looking the woman dead in the eye.

“Hey, Pen, quick question about IT for you, I think we should head to your office, don’t you?” She said quickly, already rolling the woman back towards her lair with frantic eyes while Penelope hopped between five trains of thought, her oatmeal all but slipping from her hands, “Spence, get the door for me would you?”

“And Spencer- you said Spencer spoke to him- you said-” Garcia muttered on like she’d opened pandora’s box and peered inside to see the great wonders of the universe and returned a madwoman, her words only made more dramatic by the way she pointed in Spencer’s face as he passed by them, his own expression curved into worry as he’d quickly clicked what the tech whizz was babbling about, “BASEBALL, SPENCER- SHE SAID YOU LIKED BASEBALL-”

“Okay, am I missing something or was that an extra dose of weird and wonderful from Garcia this morning?” Blake said with narrowed eyes as the genius boy held the door open and Bugsy wheeled a yelling Garcia down the hallway to her office, the youngest agent with an oddly harsh tone as she shushed the woman.

“Pen, I’ll explain-”

“But you- YOU!”

“Shhh!”

“Something’s ruffled her feathers, I can tell you that for free,” Morgan said, his eyes trailing Spencer as he strolled behind the bickering women, tucking his hair behind his ear worriedly, “That right there was a level nine Garcia freakout,”

JJ’s brow creased, as Hotch headed down the stairs towards the trio, all too aware of the commotion Penelope’s yelling had caused while the rest of the office attempted to settle back into their reports. But it seemed everyone’s eyes trailed after the three agents heading towards Penelope’s office, watching the car crash of a moment through the freshly cleaned windows as Pen tried speaking, though yelling may be a better term for it, and Bugsy barked at her to calm down.

“What’s level ten?” The blonde asked, her arms crossed over her chest, and Morgan shook his head.

“You don’t wanna know,”

–

“YOU TWO ARE SEXING LIKE BUNNIES AND YOU DIDN’T TELL US?” Penelope all but yelled the second Spencer shut the door behind him, and Bugsy ran a hand over her face out of embarrassment, her cheeks hot and painfully tingly.

“Penelope, would you please keep your voice down, okay, this isn’t a big deal-” Spencer tried to interject, his palms out in a non threatening manner like level nine Garcia was an unsub they were trying to subdue. The older woman looked at him wide eyed, as if he’d just told her the sky was falling, and her mouth dropped in aghast.

“Not a big deal- NOT A BIG DEAL? Spencer Reid, two of my best friends are screwing around in his car- your car- and you mean to tell me to calm down?” Penelope shrieked, and Spencer wondered for a moment if he was getting yelled at or she really was just that shocked, “I mean, this is groundbreaking, like more groundbreaking than the Anniston-Pitt-Joley affair, you guys are messing around right under our noses- this is like the talk of the century-”

“W-we’re not just messing around, Garcia,” Spencer spluttered, scratching at his neck awkwardly, “I mean not that that stuff isn’t great, cause, god, of course it is,” He looked at Bugsy who smiled with an unnatural shyness, rubbing at her mouth with an anxious touch, “But it’s not just that, I really-really love her,”

Bugsy thought she might have just melted on the spot there and then as she looked at him over her shoulder, a meek simper spreading across her face and she flicked a look back to Penelope with pleading eyes.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, and I know it's sudden,” She said quietly, and for once Penny listened, because it was like the air had shifted to accommodate the gooey feeling of love between the youngest agents, “But he’s right, it’s not just fooling around, Pen, we’re just being us. And we wanted to keep it that way a little while,”

If there was one thing about Penelope that Bugsy knew would tug on her heart strings, was that Pen, at her core, was a romantic. She gushed over the kisses in the rain, the soppy proposals, the cheesy love confessions. And judging by the way her horror seemed to have melted away, she was entirely right, because it left behind a sparkly look in her eye that flicked between the two of them, like she was a kid watching the prince get the princess for the first time all over again.

“Wait, so you guys are like, in love love, like wedding bells and a white picket fence with kids in the yard and all that?” Bugsy grinned, feeling Spencer’s arm lay over her shoulder, pulling her close to his side, and in a rare moment of PDA, she looked up at him with the full extent of her adoring gaze.

“I’m vetoing the white fence, but I guess so,” She said with crude humour, and he smiled down at her, raising his brows and almost instantly they’d flung back into how it was when it was just the two of them at home.

“Vetoing the fence? How are the kids going to play in the yard, we’ll be raising a small horde of them,” He quipped back, and she laughed, burying her face in his chest as Penelope watched with fascinated interest how they fit together the same way they always had and yet now they were suddenly different. Glowing. Golden.

“I was thinking more of a flock but okay-”

“Are you kidding me?” Pen interjected, her tone exasperated and sweet, besotted with the sight of the youngest agents poring over one another unapologetically and she felt like slapping herself silly because how had they not noticed before. “I take it back, you guys aren’t Pitt and Joley, you’re- you’re William and Kate, you’re Neeson and Richardson, you’re just,” She sighed dreamily as the two of them glanced at her with coy smiles, entirely exposed in their sickeningly loved up stupors, “Meant to be,”

They looked at eachother, because Pen had hit the nail on the head, the fact they’d danced around one for so long that it felt like they had always been made for one another the second they’d kissed that day in her room. Bugsy couldn’t imagine a life without Spencer in it, didn’t think she started existing really until he came knocking on her door in search of a translator. Spencer never believed in god or heaven or angels, but he knew whatever it was that had sent her to him when he was ten feet below his rock bottom, was something even a man so smart as him couldn’t explain.

Bugsy grinned toothily at the tech whizz, pointing a reprimanding finger in her direction, “You can’t tell Morgan, this is top secret,”

Penelope’s mouth dropped its smile almost instantly in moral offence, “Wait, what? But I always tell big daddy everything,”

Spencer face scrunched in bafflement, his lips moving before he could stop them; “Big Daddy?”, whilst Bugsy brushed off the nickname almost too unsurprised at the woman’s words.

“Please, Pen, pleeeease,” She begged, her eyes round and wide with a pleading expression that made her seem ten years younger, and Penelope looked like she was ready to crack within mere seconds , “We’ll tell everyone soon, I promise, just please give us a few more weeks to figure things out,”

And Garcia showed signs of crumbling. Not that Spencer could blame her, because Bugsy could get anything she wanted from people when she really tried. He liked to think of it as her sixth sense, sometimes wondered if she had some sort of mind control over him that she hadn’t told him about because he seemed to bend and sway to her whims almost too easily, and it was almost comforting to see Garcia facing the same struggle as she huffed, turning away from the puppy eyes that stared into her soul.

Penelope sighed, pouting a little at the fact she’d been given an explicit instruction to hide something from Morgan, the very idea of which setting her in a dampened mood. Yet she glanced back at the two agents that held onto each other like they were awaiting lottery results, their imploring eyes trained on her and patiently holding out for a response, knowing she was the only person in the whole world who had the power to put an end to their hypothetical romcom montage they’d been swept up in for months. She bet to herself for a moment that they would have some kind of cheesy seventies or eighties hit playlist running behind all of their hidden moments and secret affections, might have Cindi Lauper’s Time After Time running when they had their first kiss, She’s Always a Woman by Billy Joel when they danced in the kitchen at breakfast.

Penelope Garcia was nothing but a hopeless romantic, and it was for that reason that she rolled her eyes with a wry smile, and Bugsy’s chest deflated with relief, her expression lighting up with joy, that Spencer was quick to replicate.

“What would you kids ever do without me?” Garcia said with a dramatic huff, and Bugsy all but threw herself at the woman, grabbing her in a tight hug, squeezing her so hard she nearly popped a pom pom out of her hair.

“Oh, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, I swear we’ll make it up to you, anything you want,” Bugsy said, her words flooding together with excitement as she buried her face in the woman’s blonde curls, “I swear, it’ll be a few weeks tops,”

And with just a few more minutes of Penelope squealing over the sight of them holding hands, nearly fainting from joy when Spencer tucked Bugsy’s hair behind her ear lovingly with an adoring gaze, their secret was safe again. For a matter of a few weeks, that was.

5. The one where he gets shot.

“We’ve got the suspect headed into El Lobito’s diner,”

“Copy that, we’re on our way,” The sheriff reported, his radio sounding out as he approached the group where they stood around their table crammed full of suspect profiles. “We got him,” He said with a trace of relief, the preacher that had been murdering the prostitutes he pimped out finally within their grasp.

Bugsy nodded, checking that her gun was holstered and reaching for her vest when Hotch put a hand out towards her, “Prentiss, I want you here with Rossi and I coordinating response here. Blake and Reid, you go with the sheriff to meet Morgan and JJ at the diner,”

She opened her mouth to protest, maybe to exclaim that she was one of the best shots on the team, that there was nothing more that she could do here than if she was out in the field with the others, but Hotch’s word was always final, and she knew protesting on such a time constrained operation would only end in her unit chief giving her a timeout on the naughty step.

So, instead, she bit the inside of her cheek, silenced whatever protest she was going to give because she knew he hated hearing her whine, and within a moment everyone seemed to jump at their orders.

She caught Spencer’s eye as he trailed behind Blake, wishing now more than ever things could be different, because a horrible feeling settled in her gut like a rotten fruit, churning her stomach with horrid thoughts that Spencer was heading straight for the line of fire and she couldn’t so much as give him a hug without it seeming odd.

She wished more than ever she could grab him in a kiss that Hotch would pretend to not see, that he would understand because the entire team fretted over one another when the cards were dealt and the guns were loaded, wished she could tell Spencer over and over that he needed more than anything to make it back to her safely because she wouldn’t know what to do with all the love she had for him if he wasn’t there to take it.

Except she couldn’t. Not here. Not so public.

So instead she flashed him a nod that said a million words and more. I love you, I love you, I love you Spencer Reid. Come back to me because I love you more than life itself, Spencer Reid.

And Spencer got the message, the exchange looking like a plain tilt of the head between coworkers, as he strolled out of the precinct, checking his gun was loaded in his holster.

His eyes read clear back to her what his reply was, though maybe it was just their spidey sense working overtime, she could have swore she read his mind in the split second that their gaze met.

I’ll try. I’ll try with everything to come back to you.

–

“Copy that, two of ours, three of theirs,” Cruz said with little to no inflection as he held out the speaker phone to the middle of the room, and Bugsy felt her breath catch in her throat as she waited for Alex to go on, “Any casualties?”

“One,” She replied, and the Prentiss woman felt her head go funny at the sound of it, “Coleman. Morgan has a superficial wound to his shoulder, little winded from getting shot in the vest but Reid is..”

Blake trailed off, her throat choking up with emotion as she watched the boy be loaded onto the stretcher into the back of the ambulance.

“What?” Hotch pressed, and Bugsy would have to thank him later because she could have sworn words had failed her by now.

“Reid’s been hit in the neck,” She felt her legs go numb, the world spinning around her like someone was playing a cruel joke on her, like she was falling down, down, down into the rabbit hole, down into wonderland, where Spencer was hurt, badly, and she hadn’t been there to stop it. “It’s looking… bad,”

Hotch flicked a glance at her where they stood in the precinct, and it was only then she realised all the air had whooshed from her lungs in what she suspected had been something between a gasp and a ‘no’, though she couldn’t say for sure because her hearing had been knocked clean from her, a high pitched whine of white noise ringing in her ears, like she’d knocked the signal from a TV, like her brain had been filled with static the second Blake’s voice floated through the phone.

“Bugsy,” It sounded underwater, and suddenly it was too difficult to swallow, until she realised the feeling was that she might just throw up, and she stepped towards the precinct door in some sort of haze, rustling around her pockets for the keys to the SUV, “Bugsy, wait!”

There was a hand on her shoulder spinning her around as she was hit in the face with cool air, and suddenly Hotch was there, his umber eyes full of concern, Rossi not too far behind him, and it took her Unit Chief all of one swipe to snatch the keys from her.

“I- We have to go, Hotch- we have to see him,” She babbled, and she was surprised at the fact she didn’t feel like crying. She expected to feel the burn behind her eyes, the tingling and tightness in her throat, only to come up blank. Like her body had taken a back seat, her head working on autopilot because she needed to see spencer for herself, “They need to know he can’t have any narcotics- I need to make sure it’s on his sh-sheet,”

Her teeth were chattering. It was the middle of July, why were her teeth chattering?

“I know, I know, he’s in good hands,” Hotch said, in a way that told her he wasn’t being Hotch, that right now he was Aaron. He put a hand on her shoulder, the size of it dwarfing her and he looked at her like he was explaining to Jack why he couldn’t have chocolate before bed, “I know, we’ll go tell them right now, honey. Just let me drive the car.”

She nodded without really hearing him, and Rossi opened the front passenger seat door for her, a grandfather’s hand on her back that helped her up into the jeep, because she seemed ready to take a tumble at any point, walking like her knee caps were made from jelly.

“Has Blake said anything else?” She said, her voice entirely childlike, and David would bet any amount of money that it was the shock. He took a look at her, the way her fingernails were picking around each other already in a bad habit he could already guess came from Emily, and Aaron hopped into the driver’s side of the car, leaning over to grab her seatbelt for her.

“Not yet, kiddo,” Rossi replied, his eyes soft like a teddy as she nodded dejectedly, and he closed the door on her side of the vehicle, opening the back for himself, Hotch mother henning over her.

Aaron had expected her to worry, god knows he was well aware that Spencer and Bugsy struggled to function when they weren’t close by. He chided himself for splitting them up, yet he’d thought he was doing his best keeping his team in two equal sized groups both in the field and in the precinct. With JJ’s suspicions of a mole in the police force, Hotch and Rossi needed back up just as badly as the others. And god forbid he had selfishly tried to watch over her. Not because he didn’t think she was capable, but because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened while he’d sent her after an UnSub.

He knew it was wrong to pick favourites, and truthfully if he had to he’d say, his whole team meant something like family to him. But Bugsy was the youngest, the baby if you would, she was mellower than she liked to pretend she was, and she’d carved a small soft spot in his side that he would struggle to get rid of.

Only now Reid was down, and with him went Bugsy.

Hotch started the car, quickly navigating his way to the hospital where he knew his team would more than likely already be racing towards in the same state of panic. He caught the way her knee thudded on the carpeted floor, where she tapped her ankle and it took a small glance to his right to see her chewing at her cuticles silently.

“Bug, he’s in good hands,” He repeated, and she nodded though she didn’t seem to really be listening, “He’s going to be alright,”

Yet part of Aaron felt like he was telling himself that as much as he was telling her. Because if something happened to Reid, he didn’t think any of them would be the same again.

–

Blake heard her before they saw her, the way Hurricane Bugsy usually went.

“I swear to god, you had better let me through this door right now, or I will have your superior on speed dial by the end of the week-” She snapped, her panic quickly turned vitriol anger as the desk assistant who tried blocking her way into the critical unit looked at her somewhat mortified that his job was walking along a fine line.

Hotch and Rossi had gone straight to where Morgan sat resting in a separate ward, trying to gather more information about the shooter since Morgan had seen the UnSub first hand.

Blake’s head shot up, the wetness around her lashline stinging with guilt as she watched the youngest agent tear through the waiting room as if looking out for blood. Alex was out of her seat on shaking legs, heading towards the girl who she knew would go down in a blur of swings and insults for Spencer Reid.

“Bug, honey, hey,” Alex’s tone was motherly, as were her soft hands that she placed on the girl’s shoulders, and it didn’t become clear that the source of distress was from a place of fear instead of anger until the girl whipped around to face the voice, and Blake saw the redness rimming her eyes where she had forced the weeping away, likely putting on a brave face and high walls to stop the real emotion swirling inside her.

Bugsy looked at the older woman, and that was all it took for her lip to quiver. It didn’t help that Alex threw her arms around her, pulling her in for a soft hug, one she had never gotten from Elizabeth Prentiss, one she had been craving her whole childhood, a mother that held her tight and told her she was going to be okay.

“What happened?” She said, the sob crawling up her throat, bleeding into her words and muddying them with tears, and Alex had to swallow thickly to keep down the wail that pressed tight against her tongue, “What happened?”

“He pushed me out the way,” She said with a shaky voice, and it took everything inside herself not to cry right there with her. “UnSub was aiming right for me, Spencer grabbed me and pushed me out the way. By that point it was too late, he’d already pulled the trigger, I’m so sorry honey,”

“Don’t be s-sorry,” She hiccuped pathetically, clinging onto Blake like she was her only lifeline, perhaps the only thing keeping her standing, “I’m glad you’re okay, I was s-so worried,”

Alex nodded, knowing she might just start crying then and there with the youngest agent if she were to open her mouth, and instead she chose to press a delicate kiss to her temple, hoping it would have to do since the infamous Emily Prentiss wasn’t there to comfort her sister. She seemed to quieten down enough in the embrace that Alex could pull away, her hands still on the girl’s shoulders.

“I was just doing a crossword if you wanted to join me?” Alex said, which was a half truth since she had been too bothered to get past even the first three clues, and Bugsy nodded, her mind immediately spewing a million mornings of her and Spencer fighting for space at her desk to do the daily crossword.

She couldn’t think like that, couldn’t think of him as if he was gone. Because he wasn’t, he was simply down that hallway, in the hands of surgeons who could slash his throat if they made even the smallest of nicks wrong-

“Yeah, I would like that,” Bugsy nodded with a sniffle, wiping her cheeks with her cuff, feeling pathetic and entirely regretful for bursting into the waiting room with a million emotions and no idea which one to feel first.

She had never been good at putting a name to how she felt, only this time, if Alex were to ask her, she knew she would say she felt guilt. Guilt for not being there to help them, for hiding things from them for almost seven months now, for not telling Spencer she loved him more, not reminding him every second of every day, guilt that everyone was hurting over Spencer taking a knock and yet she was the only one who couldn’t smush it down into a box and put on a brave face.

Because she couldn’t even if she tried. The trojans had a horse, Rocky had Creed, and she had Spencer. She was all mouth and courage and stone faced until it came to him. He was her Achilles Heel.

She looked over Alex’s shoulder, pointing at seven across, and sighed with the horrific irony of the clue. A feeling of deep regret and remorse.

“Contrition” She said, slumping into the chair as Alex penned the answer in with a wobbly lip.

It was going to be a long night.

–

Hotch found her by the vending machine, looking between the Dr Pepper and the Full Fat Coke like one of them would be able to tell her how to feel. She knew he was waiting for her, knew they had a job to do, but she couldn’t make herself move. She felt like the hospital linoleum had claimed her as its own, like she had melted into the squeaking surface until further notice.

He was out of surgery by now, already in his room resting. It was just a matter of waking up really, and then they would see how bad things were, though by the sounds of it the doctors had hopes for a miraculous full recovery.

Two centimetres to the right and it would have been an entirely different story, that’s what the surgeon had said. She was two centimetres away from losing the person she loved more than she ever knew was possible, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

She thought for a second then, that if Spencer proposed the second he woke up she would probably say yes. Because she’d said it herself, her life had never been her life until it had him in it.

“Bugsy,” Hotch tried, but her head had turned down, her chin pressing into her collar and it was then her shoulders began shaking, “Bug, come on, he’s going to be okay,”

She shook her head, biting down hard on her lip to stop a whimper of raw pain coming out, “I should have been there, I could have stopped it, I could have covered him,” She mewled, feeling him wrap a hand around her shoulder, and it was only then he tugged her towards him, letting her whimper into his chest as she clung onto him.

“I know, I know it’s hard, but he’s going to make a full recovery,” He said in that cotton soft, loving tone usually reserved for Jack when he woke up from nightmares, “None of this was your fault, sweetheart, you have to know that-”

“I can’t do this without him, Hotch,” She said, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes, and it pained him more than he’d ever admit to see her look so distraught. Memories of when Emily left flooded him and he felt all over again the painful shell she’d crawled into make an appearance, “I can’t,”

It was a beg, a plea for mercy, a cry for help, and he could do nothing but nod, because he understood. If any of his team died, his team who he loved like a family, he thought he would crumble all the same.

Only he knew it was different. He’d always known, deep down, why it was different for them. He saw the way Spencer had always looked at her, how damaged and tormented Bugsy’s eyes were as she looked at him now. And he knew.

“I know, honey,” He said soothingly, stroking hands over her cheeks to dry them for her, because he couldn’t stand to see her so sodden with tears, “But you know what? You’re going to pick yourself back up until Reid gets better, because we have an UnSub to catch-”

“Hotch, I can’t,” She shook her head, but Hotch only pulled her closer, his eyes boring into hers with more affection than her father had ever shown her. “I can’t-”

“Yes, you can. You know why?” He asked, and she went quiet, shaking her head with a pitiful sniff, “Because I have never once stopped believing in you, even when you hated me, even when you had a damn building dropped on you, even when you were a reckless kid running away from your own wedding, I never stopped thinking that you were the bravest person I’ve ever known. And Spencer never stopped believing in you either,”

Her throat closed up all over again, her eyes wide and threatening to wash her skin with tears all over again as she nodded timidly.

“Okay?” Hotch said, and she nodded again. He rooted around his blazer pocket for a handkerchief, passing it off to her before he reached for the top button of her shirt. He unbuttoned it with a gentle thumb, poofing her neckline out so she could breath a little better through her dying cries, “Why don’t we get that collar loosened a little for once, huh? Get you a soda, and then we’re going to make this son of a bitch pay for what he did to Reid,”

Bugsy nodded again, feeling a hundred percent better the second air got onto her throat, and she saw glimpses of what he was like as a dad. Part of her wished then that things would have been different, that maybe she would have had a dad like him, one that knew how to fix things. One that knew just what to say to make her smile.

He produced a five dollar bill, holding it up for the vending machine to eat as he turned to her, “Alright, now which one are you having?”

Bugsy thought she might just love Aaron Hotchner ten times more than she already had.

+1. The one where they tell everyone

She swore she had never run through hospital halls so fast.

Blake had called her to update her about Garcia shooting the UnSub who posed as a doctor to try and administer lethal doses of medicine to Spencer, and when that hadn’t worked, he’d pulled a gun on her boyfriend and her tech whizz best friend.

And Penelope had shot him. Killed him. All to save Spencer.

And she supposed she needed to thank Penelope soon, that she would need to get the girl her own bunch of flowers like the ones she’d quickly excused herself to grab while Hotch and Rossi went straight up into Spencer’s hospital room, even when Aaron had tried to wait for her thinking she was having another crisis of faith, she had ushered him along and told him it was bad form to show up without a card at least.

She burst through the doors like a bat out of hell, and the sight of Spencer in the scrubs, thick gauze wrapped around his neck made whatever resolve she’d been storing dissolve immediately. Her face crumpled in a cry, and he barely had time to carefully turn his head towards the door, before she had launched herself at him, the flowers and card she had gotten him from the hospital gift shop forgotten and tossed to the floor.

She would apologise later, because she had ruined his presents despite the sentiment being there; for now she needed to feel him, make sure he was real and breathing and alive the way she’d told herself he wouldn’t be.

“Bug-” His voice was raspy, no doubt having been drifting in and out of sleep for the past few hours, or even if the doctors had told him to rest his throat so as not to affect the thin, delicate stitches. But it didn’t matter much to her, she didn’t even let him finish anyway before she threw herself at him, minding his wound as she wept onto his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist, “Bugsy, it’s okay, I’m okay,”

But she couldn’t even speak, couldn’t even tell him to stop trying to reassure her, stop trying to make her feel better because he was the one in pain. She felt like a coward; she hadn’t even pulled herself together enough to see him before, when he had still been sleeping. The sight of him on that bed, his eyes squeezed shut… she had turned tail and run before she even gave him a chance. Knew she wouldn’t be able to hold herself together on the case if she went into his room and pretended everything was going to be fine the way Garcia and Blake were doing.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll stop-” She hiccupped, lifting her head up to look at him through distraught, reddened eyes, and she saw his face morphing into pure sorrow, his own hazel hues wide with grief because he hated seeing her in so much pain.

And she couldn't stop herself, her hands migrated to his cheeks, steering clear of the suture. She didn’t think of the other eyes in the room, or the fact only Penelope knew, she suspected Hotch might have caught on by now anyway, she didn’t frankly care. She wanted to feel him against her, to know he was still hers.

Bugsy kissed him like he was about to be ripped away from her at any given moment, and had she been in any other mindset she might have cared about the fact she could taste the salt of her tears, that he froze under her brazen affection, or that she surely looked a state after what the past twenty four hours had put her through. She didn’t care when she heard a gasp, or felt stares, only that Spencer kissed her back, possibly the most tender he had ever been, his hands soft and featherlike as they traced over her waist to pull her closer. He tasted like Jell-O, and she thought it might just be her favourite flavour suddenly, because it was all him.

She pulled away with a sniffle, looking entirely sorry for herself and like a kicked puppy, and she was quickly ripped out of her delirium that allowed her to look at him without guilt or hesitation by a loud whistle.

“Now how long have you kids been holding that out?” Morgan jeered, and Bugsy cracked a smile, wiping her face on the back of her sleeve as she looked at her team. JJ and Penelope clung to one another with ditsy smiles, like they were watching John Cusack playing the boombox over his head at the bedroom window, Rossi stood with his arms crossed, a nostalgic smile on his face as he watched the kids he’d seen grow up finally seem like they were at home. Morgan looked ready to tease some more until Blake put a hand on his shoulder, entirely motherly and chiding, and Hotch looked at her and her alone like he was looking in a mirror.

He supposed, for once, the bau had found a happy ending.

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew grey gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader

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ja3yun · 7 months

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Melting Point | P.SH | CH.4

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), protected and unprotected sex, cum eating, oral (f rec.), handjob, mentions of alchohol, not many tbh, anything i've missed lmk! ch.4 synopsis: waking up in sunghoon's bed was the last thing you intended to happen. as you confront him about your brothers wishes, he comes up with a solution for the time being but on the night of your award acceptance, he can't hold back any longer. wc: 17.3k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! this is by far my favourite chapter in the whole series. it's just a nice, cute chapter with lots of smut and fluff. it's also the chapter ynhoon stans (me) have been waiting for. i said this on my page but this is the last chapter of pure happiness and after this its chaos and plot so, enjoy!

“Shit, Hoonie, right there, oh my god,’ you whimper out as Sunghoon pounds into your pussy from behind with relentless force, your face buried into his pillow muffles your cries as you approach your 3rd climax of the evening.

You and Sunghoon have been fucking like rabbits for the better part of a month and a bit. Sometimes it's a quickie in his car, other times it's these long, drawn-out sessions like the one we're having now. Since you both agreed to hook up, he's been all over you, like he can't get enough. And honestly, you're just as keen.

Over the weeks, that guilty feeling that was eating away at you has been slowly fading away. At first, it was tough, especially with the whole situation with Minhee, but Sunghoon always found a way to distract you, his touch erasing any nagging thoughts. As you started putting yourself first and just embracing the journey with Sunghoon, you began to feel more liberated.

There's something about Sunghoon that makes you feel completely at ease, like you can just be yourself without any pretence. If you're having a rough day, he's there to lend an ear and let you vent. And when something good happens, he's the first person you want to share it with.

To maintain the integrity of your friends-with-benefits arrangement, you both established a set of rules. However, those rules have been tossed out the window countless times. Take rule number 3, for example: 'No dates or gifts, no matter how big or small.' Sunghoon seems to break it regularly, sneaking little gifts into your bag or whisking you off to the University Cafe for some ‘fuel’ but ends up footing the bill every time, and now he even knows your order by heart.

Rule number 5: ‘No PDA’ was a goner within the first week. Holding his hand whenever you walked him to his car became a habit, in fact, any chance you got, your hands were intertwined. Even at the rink, where you really had to keep it on the down low, you couldn't resist a quick hand squeeze as you passed by him. Of course, that inevitably led to breaking rule number 6: no sex at the rink. Sunghoon might have fucked you in every corner of Belmore by now, including the coaches' office.

As his hands stroke up your back, he moves to pull your hair, eager to elicit every possible sound from you as he takes you to the peak of pleasure, "You're taking me so well," he murmurs, watching as he disappears into you with each rapid thrust, the action almost appearing in slow motion with how fast he’s going, "Can you feel it? Come on, Sweets, tell me what you feel."

"I feel so damn good, Hoonie," you gasp, your hair acting as his anchor as he leans back, driving himself deep into you. "You're hitting me so deep, oh my god."

One of his hands snakes under you to reach your belly and as he presses down you let out your loudest moan of the night. He can feel his cock in your stomach if he puts enough pressure, which drives you both crazy. The feeling of him deep inside you causes his eyes to roll back, wondering whether he can go deeper. Sunghoon lets go of your hair and grabs you by the stomach; the new position allows his shaft to pierce you in places that nobody else has before.

“Shit, I'm gonna cum," You've grown better at not asking if you can cum and have recently started telling him you are. This did not happen overnight, but rather because Sunghoon would stop fucking you if you asked to cum. He wanted you to be able to indulge yourself whenever and however you pleased, without being confined. When he would abruptly stop, it was almost on the point of edging, which you wanted to prevent at all costs, so you began telling him when you were going to climax.

"Such a good girl, Y/N." "Such a good girl, Y/N," he praises, another perk of not asking for permission. Sunghoon always showers you with affectionate words, both inside and outside the bedroom, causing a flutter in your chest every time. It makes your tummy flutter every time; he was so good at it, and it makes you feel seen and valued. There is a nagging feeling inside you that you should tell him to stop because of the things his words do to your heart, but you enjoy it too much, so you keep it off the rules.

He keeps his pace while leaning down to your ear, his chest and torso are sticking to your back with the collective sweat pouring from both of you. His tongue licks the shell of your ear as you clench around him, “Come on, Y/N, cum for me.”

Sunghoon loves to have you come undone before he does, the way your walls closed in on his dick was what sent him spiralling, so as he feels you coat him with your delicious cum, he follows you quickly, shooting ropes into the condom.

Despite his orgasm, he doesn’t stop slamming into you, his shaft throbbing against your g-spot with every stroke, "Hoonie, Hoonie, please," you whimper, completely overwhelmed as stars dance behind your eyelids and your mouth hangs open, a hint of drool threatening.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Sweets, can’t stop fucking you like this.” The last time this happened, Sunghoon fucked you for a good 4 hours nonstop, and as you approach your third hour right now, you wonder if you can go any longer and break your previous record, “You want that? For me to fuck you all night?”

If you had a praise kink, Sunghoon definitely had an ego kink—if such a thing existed. He thrived on hearing how he was the best you've ever had, how massive his cock was, or even just being called pretty. Falling for his bait every time was easy because, let's face it, every compliment you gave him was entirely true. "Uh-huh, can't get enough of your big cock."

"Fuck, of course you can't, Sweets. Look at how perfectly it fits in that pretty pussy of yours," he growls, the last spurts of his release filling the condom as he peppers your back with tender, open-mouthed kisses.

As your climax ebbs away, you collapse on the bed, utterly spent. He sees your exhaustion and despite his readiness to continue, he decides to call it a night.

Slowly, he pulls out of you, his condom-clad shaft is glistening with your essence and your pussy matches, looking delectable. To clean you, he brings his mouth to your hole and licks you clean, sure not to waste a single drop. Normally, he would either get a damp towel, or carry you into the shower to rinse you off, but he doesn’t want to wash away his favourite meal, that would be a waste.

"Sunghoon, fuck," you moan as his tongue delves into you, sending shivers down your spine. You sink deeper into his bed, your toes curling involuntarily. If he doesn't stop soon, another climax is imminent, setting off a delightful yet relentless cycle of pleasure where you cum on his face, and he eagerly laps it up all night.

But your sensitive pussy protests, especially after already being pleasured twice today. With a tally of eight orgasms already, your body begs for a respite.

"Just a minute, Sweets. Almost done," he mutters, though he's far from wanting to be finished. Sensing your sensitivity, he refrains from pushing you over the edge, giving two more gentle swipes of his tongue before reluctantly pulling away. Planting kisses along your ass cheeks and spine, he can't help but praise your perfection, "So damn perfect like this, baby."

"Sunghoon, no pet names," you mumble, reminding him of rule 2: no endearments like baby, princess, or angel, all of which have slipped out of his mouth one of two times. He fought to keep calling you Sweets since he has done so from the beginning. He hasn’t ever told you why he calls you Sweets but he’s attached to it, so you let him have it.

“Sorry,” he says quietly but he isn’t sorry. You know this because he’s smiling like an idiot while he scatters little kisses over your shoulder blades.

Finding energy from somewhere, you turn around as he comes off you to clean himself. You’ll never get over how ethereal he is, his body is perfectly proportioned, and his waist does make you jealous though. Why do some men have slutty little waists and you don’t?

You reach down beside his bed and pick up the clothes you wore today, although, you’ve spent more time naked than in them, “I better get going.”

He slips into a random pair of boxers before walking over to you, reaching for the bra you’ve been trying to grab, “You know you don’t have to rush away, we could get some food or watch a movie? The new Hunger Games is on Prime, we could rent it?” Sunghoon was trying to find any reason for you to stay.

Taking your bra from his outstretched fingers, you add it to the pile beside you, still seated there naked. "We can't, Hoonie, you know this," you reply softly. It's a rare occasion for you to linger long after sex, fearing that staying will only unearth the emotions you've been desperately trying to suppress.

Rule number 1: Keep your feelings in check. You couldn’t make the rule ‘don’t develop feelings’ because both of you knew that ship had sailed long ago. You were already attached to one another from the first time you kissed. It was more realistic to tell yourselves to bury your emotions for one another. As time goes on, it’s getting harder and harder, which is why you don’t stay. When it was the first week, sometimes you would stay over if it was late but waking up in Sunghoon's embrace only intensified your feelings for him.

Sunghoon bites his lips thin and nods, placing both his hands on his waist, “I know, but I miss spending time with you.”

“Hoonie, we see one another every day, I see you more than I see my family now,” you say softly.

It’s true, you’ve spent so much time in Sunghoon’s presence that you rarely make it home at a reasonable hour these days. You do feel guilty about missing Minhee’s practices, but you’re scared if you see him for too long you might get that gut-wrenching guilt bubble back into your heart, and everything is so good right now, that you didn’t want to be the cause of its downfall.

"But when was the last time we did something together?" he asks with a pout, sitting down beside you.

"We went out for dinner three nights ago," you bat back.

Sunghoon knows he's being a bit unreasonable, you guys have been hanging out, just not in the way he wants. He longs for those moments when you're cuddled up watching a movie or when he's playing with your hair while you scroll through TikTok, showing him videos the most unfunny videos. He just wants to do nothing with you.

His dejected expression breaks your heart. You can tell he's getting overly invested in this. Sometimes he’ll look at you like you’re the only girl in the world and that’s dangerous.

Truthfully, you feel the same way about him, sometimes he is the only person on the planet that matters to you - aside from Minhee, of course. You wouldn't have a problem dating your brother's fiercest rival if you didn't hold Minhee in such high regard, but sadly, you loved Minhee too much to hurt him.

There was something that you have been meaning to ask Sunghoon but you’re scared it’ll blur the lines of your relationship with him.

Your eyes meet his and you decide to take the leap, “Hey, there was something I wanted to ask you,” Sunghoon takes your hands in his, waiting for you to continue, “You can say no, obviously!” you add quickly, already giving him a way out even though he doesn’t have the slightest clue what you’re on about.

“Ask me and I’ll decide if I want to say no,” The older boy’s smile is slight, encouraging you to ask him your evidently big question.

“Um, do you remember when I was upset and you saw me at the rink?” you ask.

How could he forget, it was the first night he got to taste your lips. Sunghoon nods and you carry on, "And you know how I'm a top student at my university?" Another nod follows as his thumbs gently caress the back of your hands. "Well, I won an award, I think I told you that. Anyway, there's a ceremony happening on the 23rd of September, and I was wondering if maybe you would come with me? I have to RSVP by Monday."

You rush through the words, avoiding eye contact with Sunghoon. Truth be told, you had initially asked Rina to accompany you, but she has an early exam the next day—her last chance after failing it twice. Obviously, Minhee has a schedule so he and your mum are out of the picture, the only other person you want there with you is Sunghoon.

Taking a moment to process your request, Sunghoon mentally sifts through his schedule, realizing he likely has prior engagements but decides he's going to cancel them. He wouldn't miss the opportunity to be by your side as you accept such a prestigious award. "I would love to come, Y/N," he replies with genuine enthusiasm.

Your head shoots up, eyes widening in surprise. "Wait, really? Don't you want to check if you can make it and get back to me?" you ask, taken aback by his immediate acceptance. He doesn't even glance at his phone or consult a calendar. "You really don't have to come, I know Nationals are like 2 months away."

"Y/N," he soothes, running his fingers through your hair in a comforting gesture, "I will be there."

No one has ever simply said yes to you so readily. You're accustomed to being sidelined as people search for excuses not to commit. You have to admit, Minhee always tried his best to make it to your events, despite your mom often intervening. Sometimes you wonder if she deliberately scheduled things to prevent him from attending.

"It's at 7 pm, is that okay?" you ask sheepishly.

"Of course it is, Sweets," he assures you, planting a gentle kiss on your lips before whispering, "Thank you for letting me be a part of your life like this."

Sunghoon's heart races alongside yours, warmth spreading through his body. He didn't mean to voice his gratitude aloud, but he's overwhelmed by the fact that you're willing to share this part of yourself with him. It’s risky in the whole boundary department, but he’ll figure it out.

Your heart would be burrowing out of your chest and drowning him in kisses if it had legs. It's unfortunate that you can't truly claim Sunghoon as yours because he was everything you could have ever wanted. This stupid fucking rivalry. If you could go back in time to prevent them from competing against one another, you would.

He notices that your mind is racing when he looks at you, so he does what he always does when you're acting that way: he kisses you with so much intensity that it leaves you thinking only of his lips.

It works every single time.

"Hoonie," you mumble his name into his mouth, feeling the effect it has on him, "Thank you so so much. I owe you."

A mischievous smirk spreads across his lips. "You can suck my cock in the car on the drive back to yours?" he teases, earning a playful swat on the arm from you, "Okay, okay! What's the dress code for your big day?"

"It's a black tie event," you reply, focusing on putting on your clothes, "It's fancy."

Humming in acknowledgement, Sunghoon begins pondering his wardrobe options, "What are you wearing, Sweets?" he asks, hoping to coordinate outfits.

"I haven't decided yet. I need to go into the city and buy something nice," you admit. You don't have any fancy clothes, certainly nothing suitable for an award ceremony, so you've been saving up for a nice gown. The only problem is, you have no idea what to wear or what you could possibly get with your measly savings.

"Shopping? I'll come with you," Sunghoon offers.

You give him a doubtful glance. "Why?" After all, he has plenty of expensive designer suits in his closet; he doesn't need to go shopping with you.

"For the company, duh," he replies, pulling you into an embrace. Sunghoon often cuddles you like this, his long arms enveloping your head as he plays with your hair. It's both comforting and frustrating, making it hard for you to resist him. "Plus, I can help you pick something out and see you in pretty dresses all day. I don't see any cons here."

You consider his offer. Rina, your usual shopping partner, is often too busy with her own try-ons to provide much help, making her a less-than-ideal companion. Maybe having Sunghoon along wouldn't be such a bad idea after all, it would be nice to get some advice.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you mould yourself against him, "Okay, you can come. I was planning to go on Wednesday," you agree, enjoying the warmth of his touch as you nuzzle your nose against his bare chest.

"I'll pick you up from uni," he suggests with a smile.

Sunghoon has memorised your complete schedule so he could quickly figure out when he could see you, and more significantly, what parts of his own schedule he could change to accommodate yours. You took classes all summer, which was unusual, but apparently, it counted toward your final degree. With events and marketing being such a saturated field, you must stand out. Sunghoon begins to truly understand why you're receiving this award the more he learns about you.

“Are you sure? Yonsei is aeons away, and don't you have a photoshoot for Prada's winter collection in the morning?" you ask, reminding him of his commitments.

It's easy to forget that Sunghoon is a famous ice skater, probably because he's always 7 inches deep inside you and when he isn't, he's the most regular 20-year-old you know.

“It’s all good, with a face like mine, the photoshoot will be done in an hour,” his lips press themselves against yours as he lays tiny smooches on the same spot, his smile growing bigger and bigger as he does so.

Feeling his hands slide under your top and nails scraping your back lightly, you know what he’s going to ask you, so you jump the gun, “I can’t stay, Hoonie. I need to get going.”

"Don't. There's nothing for you out there, and it's cold," he pleads, pouting like a kid.

"It's 23 degrees," you laugh at his feeble excuses. "I'll see you tomorrow like always."

Sunghoon mumbles something in protest, but you know it's probably his way of expressing his reluctance to spend a day apart from you. You and Sunghoon are practically inseparable, constantly calling or texting when you're not together.

He lets you step back and goes to get changed so he can drive you home.

Both of you learned your lesson from the last time Minhee caught you getting out of his enemy's car, so now Sunghoon drops you off at the end of the street to maintain appearances and keep him out of sight.

As he fixes his shoes and grabs his car keys and a hoodie, he turns to you with a mischievous grin. "So about that blow job in the car I was talking about earlier…"

He's an animal

But you’re the one tying up your hair and loosening your jaw as you push him out the door.

__________

Wednesday comes faster than you think and you’ve just received a text from Mr. Ice Prince himself

No.1 Ice Skater 🧊🤍:

1:43pm: I’m waiting at Centennial Hall

1:43pm: 🤍 x

You and Rina are walking together after leaving your joint B2B marketing lesson. Despite being in different majors—she studies fashion and business—Rina failed this class last semester and needs to make it up. You joked that she flunked on purpose so she could retake the class with you, but when you laughed, she got serious. In reality, she did fail on purpose, but not for the flattering reason you joked about; rather, to copy your answers and coax you into study sessions that often devolved into gossip about other students on campus. Despite the ulterior motive, you enjoy your time together, so you don’t mind at all.

She’s in the middle of talking when she pauses, looking down at your phone in disgust, “You’re texting him again? I don’t even text Allen this much.” That’s a brazen lie, she’s just more sneaky about it.

“He’s picking me up,” you reply back to Sunghoon’s text with a simple ‘Okay <3’ and put your phone in your back pocket, “We’re going into the city.”

"What for?" Her eyes are fixed on yours as if she's trying to read your mind. You haven’t led an interesting life, most of it studying and being Minhee’s cheerleader, so now that you have Sunghoon as your fuck buddy, Rina laps up every little detail. You leave the sex details to a minimum because, at the end of the day, that’s no one’s business but yours and Sunghoon’s, but you tell her enough to keep her entertained.

Looking at Rina, you realise you can't tell her he's accompanying you on a shopping trip because it would hurt her the most. Fashion is her entire existence, it is who she is, so if your best friend discovered you enlisted someone else to help you locate a gown, she would be devastated.

“Just lunch,” you lie, which you’re getting better at. Not the best trait to have but it’s been helping you out the past 5 weeks.

“Isn’t that against your rules?” She questions, eyebrows raised.

You frantically try to think, “Uhm, yeah I suppose, but he was insistent.” You forgot you told her the list of boundaries and rules that are keeping this ‘friends with benefits’ deal exactly that, so she pulls you up every chance she gets.

“He’s so annoying. I still can’t believe he had the audacity to speak to me like that at Yeonjun’s party, and in front of all those people!” Her arms flail in frustration, “Like he hasn’t even apologised either. He’s a colossal cunt, I hope he knows how lucky he is he has you to protect him because I would destroy him if I had a chance.”

Rina really couldn’t let it go. You’ve pleaded with Sunghoon to text her and say sorry to her and Allen but he doesn’t think he should apologise for being honest.

Ahead of you, you observe Sunghoon standing by his car, as gorgeous as ever. He had just returned from a photoshoot, so his hair and makeup have been done and his clothes are flashy yet simple. He’s wearing a brown suede jacket over his white Prada-encrusted t-shirt, and the black dress trousers highlight his snatched waist. He's a vision, and you find yourself admiring him as always. Truth be told, you like him in anything - or even nothing at all - because Sunghoon is so effortlessly beautiful, he can pull off anything.

Waving, you gain his attention and he smiles at you, his eyes turning into crescent moons. Rina looks between you both with a bewildered look on her face, “Oh. My. God. You like him. Like, really like him.” Was it that obvious? “And he likes you!” Apparently so.

You shush Rina, urging her to keep it down. "It's not like that, we're just messing around. You know this, Rina," you insist, hoping to deflect any further probing into your relationship with Sunghoon.

Before she can say anything else or coax you into admitting something you're not ready to, you reach Sunghoon, who instinctively pulls you into a hug and plants a kiss on your forehead. "Hey, Sweets," he greets you warmly.

Your best friend scowls at him, scrutinizing the situation before her. Rina is a smart girl; she calls a spade a spade, and in her eyes, there's no way you both don't have feelings for each other. She understands why you won't just admit it and date officially, but in her mind, you're already together, just not acknowledging it to assuage your guilty conscience.

Sunghoon smiles down at you as you cling to him, but Rina's presence brings him back to reality. "Bring her back to mine once you're done with your lunch," she instructs, her demeanour guarded. Her words prompt Sunghoon to acknowledge her, though he can sense her disdain.

He knows she hates him, quite honestly the feeling is semi-mutual - he isn’t the biggest fan of hers, but she treats you well, that’s all that matters. He does, however, plan on winning her over because he senses how uncomfortable you get when they have to be in the same room together, “I will. I brought you something from my shoot this morning,” he says, attempting to extend an olive branch.

Drawing back, you stare at Sunghoon in confusion, but he shakes his head and heads to the trunk of his car. Rina's interest is piqued; she heard from you that he was working with Prada, and her fashionista instincts can't help but be a little excited. Regardless of whether it's from Sunghoon or not, she loves presents.

There are three Prada-branded boxes laid out in front of him, all of which are for Rina. Was it a bribe to get her to back off and potentially win her approval? Maybe, but judging by the look on her face, his plan might just work. "These are all from the Winter 24' season. I guessed you were a sample size," he says, aiming to flatter her.

Rina squeals with delight and grabs the boxes eagerly, tearing them open as fast as she can, just in case it's some kind of prank. Inside, she finds a sheer grey blouse with a red and brown collar accent, a long pleated white skirt, and a matching handbag. Sunghoon even went the extra mile to include the new Paradoxe Intense perfume, just to sweeten the deal.

She holds the clothing up to her body, exclaiming, "I am going to look so good in these! Thanks, Hoon!" Sunghoon can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the use of the nickname.

Glancing over at you, he sees your knowing expression. You understand exactly what he's up to, and while you may not agree with his methods, you appreciate the sentiment. He's trying to make amends, and that's more than most men would do.

Hugging Sunghoon tightly, Rina sways him from side to side, a stark contrast to her demeanour just moments ago. Sunghoon laughs and pats her head, promising to keep her in mind for any future shoots.

"Do you happen to be modelling for Gucci anytime soon?" she asks cheekily, causing you to shoot her a disapproving look, "What? I want the new purse they're bringing out," she shrugs, picking up her presents and sauntering away from the car, "Thanks again. I'll leave my favourite lovebirds to it."

It's astounding how easily swayed she is by a few items of fabric, a fact you make a mental note of for future reference. Once she's happily on her way, you and Sunghoon are left in silence.

Sunghoon shuts the trunk of his car before lifting you up in a sudden move, "Hoonie!" you squeal, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. Despite the suddenness, you wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging to him as he kisses you passionately. He sets you down on the back of his car and cradles your head, deepening the kiss. His lips feel softer than usual, gliding over yours like butter, possibly due to the lip oil he applied earlier in the day

His tongue playfully teases your lips, poking out ever so slightly to give you a taste, but when you chase it with your own, he retracts. You let out a whine of annoyance and lust, a sound Sunghoon is all too familiar with. He loves it; how you draw it out depends on how much you crave him. It makes him feel some sort of way that he can’t quite put into words.

You take hold of his jacket and bring him forward, taking control of the situation. The world seems to vanish around you with every caress, to the point where you miss the stares of passers-by and their disapproving glances as you and Sunghoon practically devour each other's faces. You can taste the warmth and passion between you every time your tongues touch. He's intoxicating.

But you really need to get a dress, and if you get too caught up in him right now, you'll never make it to the city. Instead, you'll end up with your legs spread in the backseat of his car.

"Hoonie, we better stop," you say, trying to sound serious, but your breathless whisper betrays your true feelings.

"Why?" He asks as he nips at your neck, too preoccupied with kissing you to remember the objective of today's outing, or even that he's on your campus practically dry-humping you out in the open.

"You know why," you whisper into his ear, trying to regain some composure.

His head falls in defeat on your shoulder, and he nuzzles into you, tickling the base of your neck. A smile spreads across his face, "I missed you, that's all," he admits, his voice filled with sincerity.

Rolling your eyes, you lift his head with your hand. "I saw you just two days ago."

"But I always miss you, doesn't matter if it's two days or two minutes," he says innocently, knowing exactly the effect those words will have on you. And it works; your heart swells with happiness, making you momentarily forget your resolve.

Pushing him away gently, you jump off the back of his car, ignoring the fluttering in your chest. Sunghoon simply shakes his head and gets into the seat beside you. Turning on the radio, he switches it back to your favourite station and buckles up. "Where to first?"

"There's a dress I saw online that's in Reeta's. They have one in my size just as you get into the city centre," you reply, going to put the address into his car’s navigation system. As you do, you notice that your home address is his favourite route, followed by your work address and then your college.

Sunghoon notices your pause and furrows his brows, "Do you know the address? I can google it if you want," he offers, glancing at his navigation system and realising what has caught your attention. He knows his way to all those locations by now, but seeing them saved under 'Y/N’s House', 'Y/N’s Work', and 'Y/N’s Uni' brings him a sense of comfort and belonging. To him, it's like having pieces of you scattered over every part of his life, even while driving. He never planned for you to see it, but now that you have, he hopes it's not a big deal to you.

You quickly type in Reeta’s postcode and hit okay, “It says it’s 25 minutes if we take the motorway,” you inform him.

He salutes playfully and drives off to your first destination, a smile playing on his lips.

___

4 shops, and 3 boutiques later, you’ve lost all hope. Not one of the dresses gave you the ‘wow’ factor you needed. It’s not often you go to events like this so you need your outfit to be spectacular.

Right now, you're in a random shop you spotted on the high street. It's not exactly the most inviting place – dark and kind of dreary, with clothes that look like they belong in a period drama rather than on a modern-day street.

Sunghoon is also browsing the dresses. Bless him, he's been dragged around every shop, and while you're about to have a mental breakdown, he's always the optimist, finding dresses that meet the criteria you gave him. You're looking for an emerald green or navy blue dress that reaches your knees, preferably longer. It also needs to have a spaghetti strap or be off the shoulders. You knew what suited you, plus, those were the sort of dresses you imagined yourself wearing as soon as you received the letter about the ceremony.

He finds a ribbed green dress with gold accents, “What about this? It’s kind of emerald, and it would sit comfortably.”

It’s the most hideous gown you’ve seen today, but his little smiley face stops you from being so brutally honest, “It’s not really my style.”

Putting it back, he walks to where you are looking and sighs in your ear, hugging you from behind. He can see you losing patience and will to find a dress and if you’re anything like his girl friends, specifically Wonyoung, you would start ranting about how you aren’t going any second now, "We've still got the Square to check out," he says, trying to lift your spirits. "Maybe we'll get lucky there."

You widen your eyes, “Hoonie, that’s Designer Square. There is no way they’ll have anything within my budget, not even on the sale rack.” the Square was your town’s equivalent to Rodeo Drive, each street was lined with branded stores like Armani, Gucci, Burberry, basically every shop out of your league. You don’t even recall a time you dared to walk near it.

"Worth having a look, right?" Sunghoon's optimism is charming, but you can't help but feel a pang of doubt. With the amount of money you have, you're not even sure you could afford a keychain from one of these stores. Despite saving up a bit from your extra shifts, your bank account is far from flush. £200 might buy you a small accessory or a one-way ticket home on the bus if you're lucky.

Sunghoon doesn’t give you time to argue, his hands on your shoulders pushing you out the door and into the car.

As he drove up to the high-end part of the city, you were in awe, even the street lamps looked prettier here. The people gracing the streets are all dripping in designer clothes, making you feel a bit out of place. It was okay for Sunghoon, he was still wearing his exclusive Prada outfit that would be the envy of everyone here, whether as you are clad in an a-line denim skirt with a purple cardigan you’re pretty sure you got from ASOS. It’s a whole different world here.

He pulls up at the end of the street, parking his Puegoet next to an array of Land Rovers and BMWs. This was definitely not a place made for you, but it seemed to fit Sunghoon perfectly - the clean-cut aesthetic, the expensiveness, it was all him.

“Do you come here a lot?” You only ask because he seems to be guiding you to a specific shop as if he visits frequently.

He intertwines his fingers with yours and swings it idly, "No, not really, but sometimes I get invited to galas and sponsor events. There's a store up to the right that sells dress trousers that actually fit."

You hum in acknowledgement, wondering if Minhee ever gets invited to such events. He's just as talented as Sunghoon when it comes to skating, yet he doesn’t seem to live as lavishly. Granted, Sunghoon has won nationals and even went to the Youth Olympics, while Minhee didn’t. Maybe that has something to do with it.

"Is that where you’re taking me now? To your suit guy?" you ask.

Sunghoon squeezes your hand and stops, "No, we’re going here," he points to the store beside you, and you gasp.

"No way, Sunghoon. I can’t even afford to even breathe in a Versace store." But it’s too late; he's already walking in, ignoring your protests. He holds the door open, gesturing for you to come in. Despite your reluctance, he waits patiently, still smiling. The people in the store stare, wondering why he’s just standing there looking at you. With a groan and a stomp of your feet, you cave and walk inside.

The store is bright and vibrant. Glass panels showcase handbags and other accessories on the right, while an extensive row of shoes lines the left. The shopkeepers and other customers all look straight out of an upper-class drama. Actually, now that you think about it, you feel a little like you’re in a K-drama, with the big CEO as the male lead and you as the poor girl whose family owns a chicken restaurant.

With his arm on your back, Sunghoon guides you past the onlookers and to the dresses. "Look through these, and I’ll be right back," he says.

"But Hoonie, I can’t afford these," you whisper embarrassed as you twist the £2,000 tag from a random dress and shove it in his face to emphasize your point.

"Appease me, yeah?" He pinches your cheek before he walks away, leaving you to scour for a gown.

Each one of them is beautiful and elegant, the detailing and colours blowing your mind. You could never find anything as stunning in your local boutiques. There's one in particular that catches your eye, a sleek ivory dress with gold chains cascading down the sides. It’s not what you would normally wear, but it is stunning.

As you continue to look through, you find yourself unable to choose. Not because they're not right, but because they're all too nice now, and about £1,000 over your budget. In defeat, you go to find Sunghoon when you suddenly see the most beautiful dress you have ever laid your eyes on. It’s nothing like what you imagined, everything about it is the opposite of what you wanted, but it is flawlessly ethereal in every way. It’s a black halter neck dress with an open back, lace detailing throughout, and frills that are the main attraction. If you could fall in love and marry a piece of clothing, it might just be with this. It’s classy, elegant, and perfect for the ceremony.

There's just one tiny problem. It's £1,800.

You’re scared to touch it, but you have to, you need to know what something this pretty feels like. Tentatively, you pinch the top frill and feel it between your fingertips. That was your first mistake because now no other dress is going to compare.

“You like that one?” you were so busy admiring the dress that you failed to notice Sunghoon coming up beside you. Nodding, you don’t take your eyes off the garment, too in love with it. “Try it on then.”

“I can’t. It’s too expensive,” you say wistfully, your heart sinking.

Sunghoon leans in, his voice barely a whisper next to your ear. “Exactly. When else will you have a chance to rock something like this? Let yourself indulge a little, Sweets.”

He’s right, you won’t get an opportunity like this again, and what harm has a little delusion ever brought anyone? You smile brightly and nod, “Okay, yeah, maybe just for a minute.” Sunghoon smiles at your response and looks at one of the workers, pointing with his eyes to get you it in your size.

In a flash, the shop assistants have you in the changing room, which resembles a whole wedding boutique. The gold and white decor only elevates the classiness of the place. How could this be a dressing room? The assistant ushers you into one of the stalls which is bigger than your bedroom. Sunghoon waits outside for you to change, taking a seat on the plump suite.

As you shed your clothes and slip into the dress, you're struck by its perfect fit. The delicate zip glides effortlessly, cinching your waist and accentuating your curves. As you pull up the top half of the dress and tie the bow at the back, although it proves a task because you can’t see it properly, you take one final look at yourself. You haven't felt this stunning in a long time; it's almost overwhelming.

Stepping out, everyone else is gone but Sunghoon who is scrolling on his phone. You straighten yourself and clear your throat to gather his attention.

“Holy fucking shit,” he whispers, eyes widening in disbelief.

His reaction is exactly what you hoped for. Sunghoon rises from the sofa, taking measured steps towards you, arms outstretched in front of him to take your hands, which you happily oblige, “You’re a dream. You have to be,” he isn’t speaking to you but projecting his inner monologue subconsciously.

As he takes in every detail, he smiles tenderly, almost reverently. It's as if the dress has unveiled a new layer of your beauty, leaving him spellbound. Emotion wells up in his chest, and he is completely in awe of you.

Your face glows with happiness. "It's nice, right?"

"Baby, you're otherworldly." Sunghoon threads his fingers with yours and opens your arms so he can get a proper look at you. At that moment, he sees you poised with a grace that can only be described as radiant, bewitching, whatever other word comes under 'transcendental' in the thesaurus. "I mean, look at you." Of all the routines he's done, no matter how challenging, he thinks this is the moment he becomes the most out of breath he has ever been.

You note the affectionate name he's uttered and should scold him, but who cares right now? "Yeah? Really?"

"What? You don't think so?" He asks, bewildered at the thought that you don't think you look like the most ethereal creature to walk this earth. Swiftly, he turns you to face the mirror in the middle of the waiting area. "Look at yourself, Sweets. You're a fucking vision."

Though you do feel beautiful, the longer you gaze at yourself, the more you wrestle with a hint of impostor syndrome. This dress feels like it belongs to another world, one far beyond your own, meant for the Rinas of the world.

As Sunghoon rubs your shoulders, he senses the tension building within you, "No," he murmurs.

You shift your face to look at him, "What do you mean, 'no'?"

He presses his mouth to your exposed shoulder, kissing it tenderly.,"No, as in, no to whatever you're thinking about. You look unreal, and I'm not leaving here until you say that you do." His kisses trail along your shoulders and back as he gently rubs your arms.

"I do feel pretty, I know I do, but do you think it suits me?" Sunghoon's hands untie the bow at the top, and you look at him with a shocked expression. "Park Sunghoon, don't you dare."

Laughing, he shakes his head. "You've got such a filthy mind," he teases. When the neckline tightens against your throat, you realize what he's doing. "And you have terrible bow-tying skills." Closing your eyes and lowering your head, embarrassed at where your mind went to first.

"I mean... I could bend you over and..." His words trail off suggestively, and you feel his hands slide down your arms as he kisses down your spine.

"Sunghoon," you warn, but it doesn't deter him. He continues to glide his fingers up under the dress, ready to pull your underwear down.

"I'm serious, Sunghoon. Don't," you insist as your face flushes a deep shade of red.

He steps back, his presence behind you providing some distance. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and despite the feebleness of your warning, he wanted you to know he would stop whenever you asked, especially after what you’d been through.

Scrunching your hair, he holds it in an updo and brings two pieces of your hair to cascade down your face, “Picture it with your hair and makeup done, your bangs blown out a little like Sabrina Carpenter, I think you’d be the prettiest in the place - but I’m biased because you’re always the prettiest to me.” How did he know what hairstyle Sabrina Carpenter had?

A shop assistant enters and catches sight of you through the mirror, gasping out an almost silent "wow." Sunghoon's smug grin grows wider; he knew your beauty in this dress would be undeniable. The girl fetches two of her colleagues who have the same reaction.

The man behind you turns to them, "I think we need some shoes, don’t you think?" All of them nod in agreement as you swish around, locking eyes with Sunghoon. You’ve lived out your fantasy; it’s time to go. Yet, he’s already dashing to the front of the store, quickly returning with a pair of Medusa '95 slingback pumps adorned with the Versace logo on the buckle. The stiletto is about 4 and a half inches, smaller than what you’re used to, but Sunghoon knows your style and that you’ll manage just fine.

The eager assistants gather around to help you put the classic shoes on and they fit just right. The combination of the heels and the dress was just perfect, like something picked for a celebrity going to the Oscars.

As you stand there in front of everyone once again, you feel a little like Mia in the Princess Diaries with the way their eyes are on you after your big transformation. Sunghoon was right, with your hair and makeup done, you’d be the talk of the event.

Your new makeshift stylist stands there as if he’s assessing you from head to toe. His middle finger rubs his bottom lip as he saunters over to you, his eyes carrying affection and deep thought, “We’ll take them.”

Is he out of his mind?

“Hoonie, I can’t,” your eyes watch as the people in the shop scurry to get everything prepared for you, their eyes lighting up. They must work on commission because no one in shops like Primark would ever work so fast.

“Go get changed, no arguing. Let me do this,” he mutters into your lips, kissing you tenderly.

“I can’t, it is way too expensive and this goes way beyond breaching our rules,” you protest.

Sunghoon sighs and tries to think. You’re getting that dress whether you like it or not, he just has to convince you to let him buy it for you, “Don’t see it as a gift from me but for me. I want to see you accept your award in that dress, so I’m buying it for myself to give to you. Completely selfish of me if you think about it.”

Accepting an almost £2000 gown wasn’t within your capabilities, no matter how gorgeous you looked in it. Your tiny savings couldn’t even pay for the buckles on the shoes the staff were slowly taking off your feet.

“I’m serious, Hoonie. I can’t accept it,” you cross your arms over in a huff, standing your ground as Sunghoon frustratingly runs his hands through his hair.

“Okay, how about this? I will buy it today and you will pay me back. Then it’s not a gift but a loan. See? problem solved.” He was adamant for sure. It might take you forever to pay him back but it seemed like the best option for your scenario.

Nodding, you relax your body, “fine, deal,” you grab his hand and shake it, “I’ll pay back every penny.” You’re going to have to work some serious overtime but it’ll be worth it., you’ll be belle of the ball or whatever the saying is.

As you walk away and get changed back into your ordinary clothes, Sunghoon speaks up, “Oh, and I only accept repayment in kisses. No cash.” He smirks and swiftly heads out to the payment desk.

“Park Sunghoon! That’s not happening!” You shout at him.

“Sorry, Sweets, we shook on it.” The smug man doesn’t even glance back at you.

That son of a bitch.

___________

It’s the night of the ceremony and you are beyond nervous. The idea of being acknowledged in front of a room full of people makes you sick to your stomach. Sure, you won’t be the only one there accepting an award since it’s for all the top students throughout the city, but all eyes will be on you at some point or other and that is what is causing the knots in your tummy.

Was it a bad idea to go tonight? It’s not as if you wouldn’t get the award, they would hand it into the Uni for you if you suddenly decided not to show up. You pace around your room, shaking your hands and breathing out to calm down. It’s not that big of a deal, get over it, you tell yourself, but nothing is stopping your thoughts. What if you fall? What if you got the date wrong? What if it’s a prank?

All these what-ifs circle in your head.

You throw yourself in front of your vanity mirror to look at yourself and assess whether you really can do this. The makeup and hair you've chosen for yourself make you appear to have it all together; the light eyeliner and gold shimmer eye shadow subtly make your eyes appear larger, and the Bardot fringe framing your face, as Sunghoon had suggested, it all ties together beautifully.

Maybe you can do this. Maybe, the reason you’re feeling so nervous is that you aren’t used to any sort of fuss being made about you, the spotlight always shining on your brother, Rina, or literally anyone else but you. When you got the letter through, you cried over not getting attention and recognition for it, and now here you are sweating over the fact you are getting what you wanted.

“Y/N, can I come in?” Minhee asks through the door. He hadn’t left for his shoot yet and honestly, you didn’t think you’d see him tonight.

You nod and then remember he can’t see you through the wooden door, “Oh, yeah come in.” You hadn’t begun to get ready in your dress yet, most of your time spent on the lashes you eventually decided to leave behind after a 30-minute dispute with yourself and some glue.

Standing up to greet him, Minhee comes in and closes the door behind him and when he sees you all dolled up, he scrunches his face, “Since when did my little sister become so grown up?” He inspects you, walking around you to look at your hair, “You’ve got a bit sticking out the back, by the way.”

Running back over to your mirror you examine your hair, looking for the imperfection but you don’t see it. With Minhee’s snort, you realise he’s joking, “Fuck off, Mini, don’t say shit like that!” you complain, going over your hair anyway.

“Sorry, Y/N, I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you so dolled up before.” He says.

"Yeah, well, it's a big night." You don't mean to say it snarkily, but Minhee seems to interpret it that way, his head dropping to look at the floor. He wanted nothing more than to be there for you, and it hurt him that you might think he didn't care.

Of course, you knew he cared; he told you he tried to reschedule this commercial shoot the night you found out; you can't blame him for not attending this ceremony because he at least tried to be there.

Minhee puts his hands in his pockets, “I can see if we can finish early. I might be able to make some of it?”

Your eyes widen in panic, thinking about what would happen if he showed up only to see Sunghoon sitting beside you, “No, no, really it’s okay. Just have fun at your shoot.”

“You think I will have fun knowing I’m missing my baby sister's first life achievement?” He’s angry but not at you, at himself and the situation he’s in because the more he speaks, the more he hates himself for not just throwing this schedule to the wind so he could come with you. But there’s more to it than you know.

Facing him, you try to offer him an empathetic expression: "Mini, I didn't mean it that way. Plus, my first major life achievement was high school graduation, and you came to that."

Smiling, you recall how he made such a fuss about something so insignificant in your view. Minhee created a banner that read 'Y/N, You Rock!' on it. It was cheesy and unusual to bring to graduation, but because you had always crafted signs to bring with you when you cheered him on at contests, he thought it was not only hilarious but also appropriate, “Plus, I’ll just win it again next year so you can come with me then.”

He smiles slightly and finds some comfort in your words. It amazed him how you managed to make everyone else feel better about themselves even when they shouldn’t. Gently, he attempts to fix your bangs, “Take lots of pictures, yeah? So many that I don’t think I missed it at all.”

“I will,” You stick your hand up in the air and he laughs, high-fiving you.

Before he leaves you for his schedule, he asks one more dreaded question, “Who are you taking anyway?”

It was the one question you hadn’t prepped for and now suddenly you’re back in school being given a pop quiz on a book you forgot to read.

“R-Rina! You know she would never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t bring her along.” It was quick thinking and a plausible answer. He didn’t know she was stuck inside, studying for tomorrow’s exam.

“I figured, just wondering since you’re wearing that perfume you only wear for dates.” He smirks.

You sprayed a little Crystal Noir on your pulse points once you finished your hair to give it time to die down before you had to leave, “Excuse me, I use it for all special occasions.” Crossing your arms, you stand defensively. If he caught a whiff of a guy coming with you to this event, he wouldn’t let it go, and you couldn’t exactly blurt out that it was Sunghoon you were taking.

“Whatever. Have a good time, okay? If anything happens or Rina gets out of hand, give me a call, yeah?” Minhee stands half out of your room, holding the door as if he wants to say something else, “I’m proud of you, Bubs.”

Don’t fucking cry, this foundation is so expensive.

“Thanks, Mini. Love you,” you utter in a low voice, appreciative of his words.

Minhee closes the door behind him and you check your phone for the time. You have an hour to finish getting dressed, plenty of time to fit in a few more what-ifs, and learn to tie the bow of your dress correctly.

_____

Brushing off any dust or hair from your dress, you take a glance at yourself in the mirror. You look good like you’re prepared for this. Your phone pings with a new message.

No.1 Ice Skater 🧊🤍:

6:14pm: Hey Sweets, are you ready?

6:14pm: Yeah! Are you nearly here?

Just as your message was sent, the doorbell rings. Sunghoon didn’t wait about, you thought you had at least another 10 minutes before he showed up.

Running down the stairs, almost as if you’re gliding, you swing the door open, not even looking at Sunghoon properly, “Come in! I’m just going to get my stuff from upstairs.”

You’re like a mist, coming as fast as you go and Sunghoon bewilderingly helps himself into your home. This is the first time he dared to step foot in the Kang residence, giving him a strange feeling.

Glancing around, his eyes grew with curiosity as he took in the intricacies that made up the place. His gaze lingered on the framed images on the walls, which captured different parts of your life from young until now. It was as if each image represented a chapter, and he was turning the pages.

However, he did notice how there was only one of you solely on your own, you were 14, leaning on a tree on an evidently hot summer day in your sundress. He remembers you so clearly at that age, it’s strange considering he didn’t get to speak more than 3 words to you back then. The smile on his face grows as his gratitude for the time he can spend with you now seeps into his heart.

The padding of your feet down the carpeted stairs pulls his eyes away, looking at the now 19-year-old you. You’re fighting to put a pair of earrings in as you hold the Versace shoes by their strap on one of your free fingers and your handbag swings from your left shoulder.

Once you win your battle with the small gold hoops, you place the shoes and bag down, “Sorry, I’ll be two minutes, let me just put these on and we’re good to go.”

But before you can sit on the last step of the staircase to buckle your shoes, Sunghoon unbuttons his jacket and kneels, grabbing the shoes and sliding them on your feet. You finally stop for a minute and take in the scene in front of you - he’s so sweet you could melt.

Sunghoon carefully buckles your heels, trying not to nip your skin. "Are they alright?" he asks, looking up at you. You confirm with a nod, eliciting a slight smile on his face. As he slides his hands over the outside of your legs, he gently kisses the inner area of your calves. He doesn’t know why he does it, it just feels natural to kiss every inch of your body.

He gets back on his feet and leans back to look at you. Even though he had previously seen the dress on you, seeing you in it again with your hair and makeup done and the accessories you selected was a completely other experience, “Wow.”

It’s not what he wanted to say exactly, but it’s all he could at the moment. You had completely blown him away.

Blushing, you push him playfully, taking in his outfit of choice as you do so. He’s wearing a simple black suit with silk trimmings, his lace-up derby shoes match the shininess of yours, and his tie is adorned with a gold Prada tie bar. He did the simplest things to match you without being too obvious about it, and the attention to detail erupted butterflies in your chest.

“You look amazing, Hoonie,” you compliment.

“Don’t I always?” he replies cockily, doing a showman spin so you can see all of his outfit. He’s so silly sometimes it cancels out his arrogance. Buttoning his jacket back up, he holds out his arm for you to take, “Shall we?”

You take his arm and grin vibrantly at him, shaking your head in agreement. Locking the door behind you, and double checking your purse, you make your way to the venue.

Arriving at the event makes you even more overwhelmed than you thought you would be. It’s just an award ceremony for some uni kids but it looks like the Met Gala. Everyone is dressed to the nines, the atmosphere is filled with excitement and amazement, and you begin to wonder just what it’s like on the inside.

Sunghoon places his hand on your shoulder to gain your attention, “Are you sure you’re not winning a Grammy or something?” He jokes, unintentionally easing your mind.

“I know, I can’t believe the city would do this for a couple of students that got high grades.”

In a dubious yet playful tone, he quirked his mouth to the side and asked, "Is that all you are? A student with high grades?" The mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of his lips showed his scepticism over your self-deprecation. Did you truly think that’s all you were? “I’d say to be the most exceptional student of the whole of Yonsei, it would go further than just your grades, right?” He massages your shoulder, thumb circling lightly.

When you look at him, he’s waiting for you to agree with him. You know you’re downplaying it right now, but it’s the only way you might be able to get through the ceremony without vomiting, “Yeah okay, maybe it’s more than that.”

“No, you’re more than that, Sweets.” Why was it even when he was disgustingly cheesy, it made your heart do summersaults, “C’mon, let’s go.” He gets out of the car and rushes to your side to open the door for you. The place had a valet so Sunghoon reluctantly handed the boy his keys, scared for his poor baby.

Walking into the Cathedral was daunting yet exhilarating. The buzz in the air and loud chatter meant your senses didn’t know what to settle on. The inside was beautiful, the architecture old and filled with history, and now you were adding to it in a way, which helps you smile.

A waiter comes over with champagne on a tray and offers you and Sunghoon one each which you gladly take. You take a sip and savour the fruity taste, Normally, you’re content with a £6 bottle of Echo Falls which doesn’t even truly count as wine never mind champagne, so this is a new experience for you. The drink glides down your throat as you take another swig.

Your date pushes his glass to you, “Here, take this one.”

“Why? Aren’t you having it?”

“Nah, I don’t drink. Plus, I drove us here.” Sunghoon shrugs and takes the empty glass from your hand, deciding not to comment on how you downed a probably £15 glass of champagne in record time.

You forgot he didn’t drink, so used to everyone around you necking bottles like they were going out of fashion, you are a bit like that too to be fair so you can’t judge them. Even Minhee drank like a fish when he didn’t have training the next morning.

Speaking of Minhee.

“Hey, can you take a picture of me next to the sign?” you point your head towards the grand sign that says ‘25th Annual Crowning Achievement Gala’ in gold writing, weirdly matching your attire.

Sunghoon agrees, stretching out his hand to take your phone, “Does Rina want to see your outfit?”

“No, I promised Mini I would take lots of pictures,” you say nonchalantly, not seeing the way Sunghoon’s expression turns sour. It’s been easy to forget they hate each other since you don’t really bring them up in front of one another.

Adding to his bitterness is the text that conveniently popped up from your brother the exact moment he took your phone. Even his name triggered Sunghoon, not only from their past but because he should be here with you, regardless of circumstances. Sunghoon couldn’t wrap his head around why he wouldn’t just drop everything for you, how his career took prestige over his own little sister. The idea that you aren’t everyone’s first priority makes him sick. He made a vow you would never feel like a second option when you’re with him.

If you could hear the torrent of names and accusations swirling in Sunghoon's mind, it would undoubtedly spark an argument. However, while you couldn't read his thoughts, his facial expressions spoke volumes. “Sunghoon, please. He asked for a picture,” you plead, hoping to diffuse the tension.

“He should have fucking been here,” he seethes, his frustration bubbling dangerously close to the surface. Was he really going to make a scene here and now? Catching the disbelief on your face, he deflates, realizing that this isn’t the appropriate time or place for his outburst. “Sorry, Sweets,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with remorse.

You offer a sarcastic thank you and dutifully pose next to the sign. Sunghoon snaps about 10 different pictures, determined to capture the perfect shot. In his eyes, you look stunning in every single one, but he knows he may be a bit biased.

The bell rings to signal the ceremony is starting and you make your way to the assigned seat. You’re both placed at a round table, big enough to fit 12 people, and in the middle of the table there is a candelabra with flowers at the base and three ice buckets with red and white wine.

“This is way too fancy for a school award,” The girl beside you whispers, to which you just nod. As everyone takes their seats, you see Sunghoon pull out your chair for you before sitting on his own. The girl next to you hits her partner and mutters, “Why didn’t you do that for me?”

Sunghoon was a high standard to meet, you knew that. Despite his flaws, he was always gentle with you, raising the bar for your needs more and more. When you eventually find a boy you can be with, he’ll never be on Sunghoon’s level, no one could ever be.

The pain deepens each time you realise that Sunghoon may never be someone you can call yours.

He reaches over and pours you a white wine, smiling as he does so. One thing you’ve learned about Sunghoon is that he loves to do simple acts of service, and right now he is in his element. Being able to look after you, even in the most simple ways is all he has ever wanted. And since it’s your big night, you’re being more lenient with your rules. He wonders just how far he could push it.

Taking your left hand in his, he intertwines your fingers and brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it softly, “Do you think there’s an overall award? Like, is one of you better than anyone else?” he asks.

“Nah, it would be cruel to make someone an overall winner of a winner. It would take away from the feeling of achievement everyone has,” you look around and see what must be about 90 people. You hadn’t known there were so many universities around the place.

"Yeah, imagine people winning a tournament but still needing to compete again to be the best of the best. I couldn't think of anything worse." Sunghoon gives you a look that asks, ‘Are you aware of who you are speaking to?’ and you realise who you are talking with, Mr. Ice Prince, who is about to compete in Nationals before going on to compete in the Olympics.

The irony was evident, as the person you were expressing this to was thoroughly entrenched in the world of competitive figure skating, which was based on the very idea you found so frustrating. Not that you’re all kumbaya or anything, but it’s a shame that everything in life seems to be a competition.

“How has training been for Nationals?” you ask, focusing on his nose freckle.

“Sweets you come to nearly all my practices, you know it’s going okay,” he eyes you suspiciously, “Wait, was I right the first day I saw you lurking around the ring? Have you made this grand plan to get me whipped for you so you can spy on me?” Sunghoon’s eyebrow raised playfully, “Now you want to sike me out?”

“What? NO!” you proclaim, laughing in disbelief.

“It’s all coming out now, baby, you can’t hide it anymore,” both of you laugh at the thought of an elaborate scheme being the reason he’s sitting beside you right now.

You kiss his hand that’s still tangled with yours, “Hand in hand, I promise I have relayed absolutely nothing to my brother.”

“Want to tell me what he’s planning then? A flying camel spin? Quad jumps?” Wiggling his brows you let go of his hand a roll your eyes. To be honest, you haven’t seen Minhee’s practice in a while.

Come to think of it, your mum hasn’t pestered you to be there like she normally does. The first few times you missed his practices she reprimanded you, telling you how much missing the training lowers Minhee’s confidence. It’s not that you wanted to miss them, and you tried your hardest to be there, it’s just…you were always with Sunghoon.

The tapping of a mic diverts your attention from your worries to the stage, “Thank you, everyone, for coming. I’m so happy to see so many young talents within our universities, it fills me with pride for this city.” The Chancellor of Education beams with pride.

He continues to ramble on about a bunch of stuff that you couldn't care less about. Your mind is preoccupied with thoughts of the three steps leading up to the stage and how easily you could trip and faceplant in front of everyone here.

A person dressed in an all-black suit comes over and speaks to your table, “Anyone who is receiving an award, please follow me.” Shit. Here you go.

You look to Sunghoon who smiles reassuringly, “Go get 'em’, Sweets.” his words are less encouraging than you need them to be at this moment, but the pride in his eyes is enough to get you up off your chair and follow the man to the side of the stage.

Sunghoon watches on as you take your place in line. He can tell you’re shitting a brick but he knows you’ll be fine, you always are - you’re tough like that. A proud smile appeared on his face, showing his admiration for you. As you got closer to the stage, the world around him melted away, leaving only the view of you, poised for recognition.

“Your girl is a looker,” One of the guys at the table says, and the others agree, but Sunghoon doesn’t take his eyes off you, scared he’ll miss any part of this.

“She is, isn’t she?” Sunghoon musters up a reply. If he wasn’t so infatuated with you right now he might have told the boy to keep his eyes off you, but he spares him for now.

Unaware of the compliments being whispered about you at the table, you find yourself sweating a little. If this were any other scenario, you would make a joke about how your palms are sweaty, mom’s spaghetti, but this isn’t a laughing matter.

As tension mounts, you silently reassure yourself that you won't stumble, that everything will be fine, and that it’s just a fleeting moment.

As the chancellor says the names of each student, you’re getting closer and closer to the stage and you start to think how you should have had way more wine to calm you, but then again, more wine equals drunk you, and she isn’t exactly steady on her feet at the best of times.

“Y/N Kang.”

Oh, that’s me. You think, smiling idly. Oh, fuck that’s me.

Centring yourself, you gracefully make it up the stairs, no accident in sight, and walk to the chancellor and thank him as you accept your award.

“WOO!”

Turning to glance at your table, you notice Sunghoon standing up, clapping and smiling broadly, his canines on full display as he makes a fuss over you and shouts your name. He begins to fist-pump the air, and everyone laughs, including you. As you place a hand over your mouth, your cheeks turn crimson not only from embarrassment but also from happiness.

The warm glow of the stage lights framed you, creating an illuminating aura around your body. Sunghoon couldn't help but congratulate himself on tricking you into allowing him to buy you the dress you're currently wearing.

You bow to the committee and hurry down the stairs, ready for the spotlight to be off you and on literally anyone else but that isn’t the case. All eyes are on you, happy faces greet you from every table as if they have known you for years, and all you can do is thank them in passing, desperate to get to Sunghoon.

Approaching the table, Sunghoon holds his hand out to stop you, and you pause in place, confused. He picks your phone up and swipes open the camera app, “Pose with your prize, Sweets.”

Obliging, you do a multitude of poses, some silly and some you could actually put on your Instagram. Once he’s satisfied, Sunghoon ushers you towards him, picking you up and spinning you around a few times, “So, so proud of you, Y/N.” Gently, his mouth meets yours as he sets you down, “So fucking proud of you, you have no idea.” his whispered affirmations of pride bring a few tears to your eyes but you blink them back.

Just like before, he pulls your seat out for you as you sit back down and congratulate the other winners at your table. You miss the way he gazed at you with a softness in his eyes that spoke volumes, an unspoken language of affection and warmth. His gaze followed the contours of your face, fixating on every detail as though he were memorising it.

He passes you the phone so you can take more pictures of your award to send to Minhee. Sunghoon doesn’t mean to read the messages between you both but he can see how he misjudged Minhee a little.

Mini <3

8:23pm Look! It’s so pretty

3 images attached

8:24pm: Bubs you look amazing?!?

8:24pm: When did my sister get so pretty?

8:24pm: I wish I was there :(

8:24pm: I know :( Me too

8:24pm: Better come next time!

8:25pm: Never missing anything again

8:25pm: Love you, I couldn’t be prouder.

8:25pm: Keep me updated!

“Hoonie, let’s get a picture together, hmm?” You haven’t ever taken a picture with him before, possibly because it’s an unspoken rule, but you can’t pass the opportunity up - not when you both look so good.

Shuffling his chair a little so he can be behind you, he leans forward, almost resting his chin on your shoulder before you snap a pic. You take a few, most of them just smiling from a different angle, that is before Sunghoon presses his lips to your cheek and closes his eyes. Closing your eyes with him, you take the picture quickly.

“Ah! It’s so pretty.” You squeal, reviewing the pictures. A serene moment filled with the tenderness of your connection unfolds as his lips find the slope of your shoulder. Sunghoon puckers his mouth and gives you a delicate kiss while his eyes focus on the photo you’re showing him, “Do you like it?”

He turns your face to look at him and whispers, "I love it." Sunghoon's gaze expressed a language deeper than the words, a confession he knows he can't make out loud, not yet, He encloses your lips in his, pouring his feelings into you the best he can.

It was as if this award ceremony wasn’t happening because you don’t even realise all the awards have been handed out and there’s a band making their way to the stage, both of you are too engrossed in one another. The band plays songs typical of these kinds of events, renditions of pop songs, and some classics to get people dancing.

As the night progresses, the table you're at empties, but you and Sunghoon remain seated, immersed in conversation about everything and anything. He's removed his jacket and hung it over the chair; his sleeves are rolled up and his tie is loose, reflecting how long you've been getting familiar with each other. You didn’t think there was anything left you could know about him after spending almost 2 months with him, but you were wrong.

As you nurse your second glass of wine, you ask him the most important question of the evening.

“Do you think aliens will come and take over the world?”

Sunghoon laughs out loud, looking at you dotingly, “What? Like right now?” he twirls a piece of your hair framing your face.

“Nah not now, but like in the future. Like some War of the Worlds shit.”

“Oh so not like little green dudes?” He asks and you shake your head assuringly, “Good, because it was hard enough batting every guy at this table tonight off of you, never mind Martians with superpowers. I don’t stand a chance there.”

You laugh for the nth time, “None of them were even looking at me.”

“Yeah, because I gave them all my signature death stare to stop looking at my girl,” he points two fingers to his eyes and imitates a stern expression.

“Ah, but see, I’m not your girl,” you lean back in your chair and cross one leg over the other, “You’re forgetting that.”

His expression shifted, becoming more earnest, "You could be..." he replied, his gaze holding a sincerity that belied the playfulness of the banter. The words are spoken with true intent, leaving a pause in the air as he looks for any response on your face.

“Hoonie-”

“I know - Minhee, and your devoted loyalty to him - but you know this is more than what we’re calling it, so why don’t we just call it like it is?” he pleads, slouching forward to take your hands in his, “We can still keep it a secret, we don’t have to tell him.”

“But he said no dating, that’s the whole point of us being in this sort of relationship,” you remind him of the loophole he had found in Minhee’s words that eased your guilt.

“Sweets, no offence but if you don’t feel guilty now, you won’t if I call you my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

He skipped the whole dating idea and just jumped straight to relationship status. But he’s right because technically you have been dating for almost 2 months, just never calling it that for your own peace of mind. You never intended to fall headfirst for Sunghoon, or maybe you did.

You can’t deny the gravitational pull you both have towards one another, that instant connection from the night he kissed you for the first time. Of course, it’s complicated, what with Minhee’s feelings involved, but maybe you should give in and see what happens.

You suck in a breath, your inner turmoil threatening to overwhelm you, "If we’re still keeping it a secret, and everything is still the same between us, why do we need to label it?"

He kisses your hands tenderly, his touch soothing, "Well, we can finally get rid of those fucking rules that neither of us cared about in the first place. I can take you out and proudly call it a date, and shower you with gifts as your man," Sunghoon's gaze shifts from your hands to your eyes, his expression earnest, "And I get to proudly call you mine, for as long as you’ll have me."

The sensation of his lips against your skin sends tingles down your spine, and his words ease the weight of your unspoken desires. It would be a relief to just be with him, but could your mind ever silence the guilt?

“Y/N, listen to me,” he turns deadly serious, a little annoyed at how much Minhee is having a say in this without even uttering a word, “Minhee is a grown man, he will get over it. He won’t hate you, he loves you too much for that. Will he be a little angry at the beginning? Sure, but that won’t last, okay? He does not own you, nor can he tell you who you can and cannot date,” he begs you to see his point of view, “Please just be with me.”

You feel the weight of his words in your chest. Sunghoon hasn’t ever led you wrong so far, so why would he now? Minhee would get over it because, at the end of the day, that’s your brother, the same brother that used to plat your hair when it got in your way, and the same brother who protected you from any hurt when your parents split, hugging you through the shouting. He wouldn’t abandon you so easily.

Sunghoon watches as his words calm you down, and a glimmer of hope punches his heart.

“We still keep it a secret, I can’t tell him just yet. We’ll do it after Nationals.” You tell him a matter of fact.

Nodding understandingly, he reaches for your face, “Yeah, anything you want, Sweets. We’ll do it all at your pace.” This is everything he’s ever wanted, the opportunity to call you his girl, and now that it’s finally here, he feels like he’s the one who won something tonight, “So?”

“So?” You repeat.

“Are you mine? Officially?” he knows the answer, he just wants to hear you say it out loud.

“I’m yours, Hoonie.”

Dramatically, he lets go of you and sinks into his chair, face etched in glee and relief, it’s a dream come true to have you say those words and he thinks he might pass out. Placing one hand over his heart he breathes out a quiet ‘thank fuck for that’, making you giggle.

A teasing smile tugged at the edges of your lips, and your eyes twinkled with affection, “You’re so silly.” you grab his hand from his heart and replace it with yours, patting it softly. The simple gesture has his face splitting with a grin and his eyes closing.

“My girlfriend,” he whispers to himself but you hear it, your brain dizzying at the thought. He starts to sit up, “My princess, my baby, my angel.” Grabbing your face he kisses you all over like he’s leaving little sprinkles of affection anywhere he can, “Fuck those stupid rules, I’m calling you whatever I want, buying you whatever I want, having sex with you wherever I want.”

“Uh, didn’t you do that anyway?” you say between titters.

“Yeah, but now I don’t have to have your beautiful, perfect, eyes glaring at me every time I do.” Maybe you were a little harsh on him, considering you broke a lot of them multiple times too, “Promise me you won’t back out of this, baby.”

The petname falls just as easily as his nickname for you. Secretly, you hope he doesn’t stop calling you Sweets because even though you don’t know why he does it, it’s his thing for you and you love it, “I promise. And if I feel myself doubting or thinking about how Minhee will feel, I’ll talk to you about it first,” you say this because Sunghoon is the only one that can get you out of your previous mindset, he proved that tonight.

Resting his forehead against yours, Sunghoon looks directly into your eyes, “Good. Because I’m yours and I won’t let him ruin this for us. I don’t care.”

“Me either.” And you truly mean it.

The sound of glasses being collected and chairs stacked upon one another makes you retreat from him and look up. The event had been over for a hot minute, only you, Sunghoon, and a few drunken mothers who can’t get up off the dance floor are left in the grand hall.

You check your phone and see it’s almost 3am, “Shit, we better go.”

Sunghoon peers at the clock on his watch and a pout forms on his lips, “We didn’t even get to dance.”

“Eh, whatever, we can do that whenever we like now.” You cheekily remark, turning his sullen expression into one of amazement. You can tell he still doesn’t really believe it.

“Please tell me you don’t have to go home tonight?” He asks.

Shaking your head you stand up, putting things back into your bag, “No, I told Minhee and Mum I would be staying at Rina’s so I don’t wake them up.”

“Great.” He slings your bag over his shoulder and grabs your award before he lifts you up, earning a yelp from you but he doesn’t acknowledge it, instead opting to squeeze your ass with his free hand and keep his grip there to ensure you don’t fall.

“Hoonie, what are you doing?” You laugh, securing your legs and arms around him.

“What does it look like? I’m going home so I can fuck my award-winning girlfriend.”

______

Sunghoon pushes you into his flat as he kisses you passionately, his mouth never leaving yours even when he unlocks the door and slams it shut behind him. You’re just as needy for him, pulling at his tie to drag him into the bedroom that you know your way to oh, so well.

Despite the urgency in both of your bodies, he places your award gently on his desk, sure to not break it. You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less, you need him more than a glass trophy. You begin to practically climb his tall figure, seeking any sort of sexual relief.

He knew you couldn’t wait for him when you were kissing him at every traffic light and had his belt unbuckled before he even made it out of the car. He was honestly surprised you didn’t try to suck him off while he was driving.

You began to strip him of his tie and shirt, fumbling with his buttons all the way down, “Easy, baby, you have me.” He reassures you, but there isn’t any stopping you tonight, you’re on a high like no other. You just got a boyfriend, got acknowledged for all your hard work in uni, and now you’re going to fuck until the sun comes up, what’s not to love about your life right now?

Without you even noticing, he unties the bow behind your neck and pulls it down, exposing your erect nipples. Sleeking his hands down from your neck to your tits, he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, pinching every so often to send a jolt through your body and down to your sex.

Pushing, you guide him to the bed until he collapses on it, a quiet ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the force. Sunghoon wasn’t necessarily prepared for you to be so in control but he won’t complain, how could he when you were climbing onto him, tits dangling in front of him like tempting raindrops and he’s been in the desert, thirsty for them.

He sits up, chest at eye level as he licks up the curve of your right breast, teasing you. You’re hands run through his hair, pushing his bangs back so you can get a good look at his face. He has the same bright look he always does when he gets to play with your tits, it would actually be quite sweet if you both weren’t about to perform a sinful act.

Flickering his eyes up to you, he smirks, taking your nipple into his mouth finally twirling his tongue around it hungrily. The way he keeps staring into your eyes as he sucks your tit has you breathing out slowly and your chest moving heavily.

Once his teeth sink into you, your eyes shut and your head falls back. His sharp teeth gently tug at your nub, then licking it softly - he alternates between the nip and pleasure his mouth is giving you.

Deciding enough is enough, you pull his face away, watching as he goes to go right back to it; if it wasn’t for the grip you had on him, he would have, “Please don’t stop me,” He whines, his eyes looking at you, a drip of begging splashing around in his iris.

“Do you want to suck my tits, or fuck me?” You pose.

Sunghoon doesn’t have to think about it, he knows exactly what the answer is. Curling his arms behind you, he zips down your dress as it sits at the bottom of your spine, using the opportunity to kiss the valley of your breasts. He bunches up the material and lifts it over your head, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

His jaw nearly hits the floor as he sees the white mesh thong tilted on your waist, “Fuck,” He can’t believe you had that under the dress the whole time and he’s only getting to see it now.

You wouldn’t normally wear white with a black dress but it’s his favourite colour on you which you discovered recently. One night you wore his white t-shirt to bed and he couldn’t stop looking at you, his hands all over you the second he saw you adorned in it.

“They’re cute, right?” You were proud of your purchase before but now seeing his reaction, you were more than pleased with yourself.

“Baby, did you buy them for me?” He licks his lips, the corners of his lips tugging up as he runs his middle finger along your clothed slit, dipping it to pull the underwear closer to him. It gives him the chance to see just how wet you are, the patch darkening the material.

Nodding your head, you reply, “All for you, Hoonie” Your voice comes out more seductive than you mean to but it only fuels his fire more.

You bite your finger and smile down, acting bashful but he sees right through it, knowing you’re enjoying how he’s reacting to you, “I’ve hit the fucking jackpot with you,” He confesses, still eyeing your cunt.

It makes you giddy how easily he says things like that, as if it comes so naturally to him to compliment you or make you feel like you’re the only girl he’s ever looked at.

To Sunghoon, you might as well be the only woman on the planet, he doesn’t care about any of the others, not when you’re here gracing this earth. Your laugh, your smile, your body, your ability to inject him with a new lease of life, why would he ever need to look at anyone else?

“Are you just going to stare?” You lean down to his ear, “Or are you going to fuck your girlfriend?”

He almost cums, your words shooting down to his dick and making it throb. You’re his girlfriend. He won’t ever get used to it, dreaming about it so long he thought that’s all it would be, a distant dream. When you said you would be his, his heart could have vomited.

Grabbing your waist, he flips you over, his expression is menacing which means you’re in for the time of your life. Your boyfriend captures your lips with his, hands roughly grabbing at your sides and hips.

With whatever of your concentration isn’t on his tongue in your mouth, you undo his trousers and push them down with your feet, dragging his boxers down in the process. All that’s left on him is his white shirt but you don’t want to get rid of that just yet. The way it’s lazily hanging off his shoulders makes him look like those slutty little white tunics in period dramas.

Sunghoon’s mouth moves from your lips to your jaw and down your neck, suckling the base of your neck which he knows gets you a moaning mess.

True to his knowledge, you mewl out, tilting your head to encourage him more.

His hands slither down to your thong, playing with it a little to tease you and fill you with anticipation. As he pushes the material away, exposing your folds, he looks down, “You’re so ready for me, Sweets, don’t you think?” He slides two of his fingers in between your pussy, quickly dipping them in and out with ease before offering them to your lips/

Without hesitation, you accept his silent invitation, sucking his fingers clean, never stopping your intense gaze into his eyes.

The way you know what he wants without him having to vocalise it just makes him even more desperate for you. He presses his fingers against your tongue, causing you to open your mouth, “Stick it out for me,” Sunghoon asks, eyes clouded with lust.

As you stick your tongue out, he retracts his fingers, delving to lick your tongue, “You taste so good, baby,” he licks your tongue once more before committing to the kiss you’ve been craving.

Desperately, you grab his cock and pump him, your hand inadvertently skimming past your clit in the prosses due to how close his body is to yours.

The sudden touch from you shocks Sunghoon but what really sends him reeling is your thumb rubbing over his head, circling the tip with pressure, “Jesus Christ,” he huffs out breathlessly, his hips bucking into your palm, hoping for more delicious release from your grip.

His hot breath hits your face as he pants, only making you more eager to please him. Bringing your hips up, you trap his cock between your slit and palm, rubbing both against his shaft, the heat of your pussy contradicts the coldness of your hand, making Sunghoon’s brain fry.

Your fingers push him to sit neatly in your folds, however, when you thrust your hips up again, the pressure makes the head of his cock dip into your entrance, causing you both to moan loudly.

“Sweets, let me put on a condom,” he swallows, managing to choke out the words amidst his desire. He shakes his head trying to bring himself to a rational state but as you dip him in again, he can only groan, “Fuck.”

“We don’t need one,” you assert, shallowly fucking yourself on the first 2 inches of his cock, “I want to feel my boyfriend.”

Your words hang in the air but none of you stop your actions, not even pretending to think about it. Sunghoon nudges your nose with his, “You sure?”

“I’m positive, baby,” you whisper into his mouth, sharing your wants with him. You’re both too far gone into one another that none of you have the common sense to say no.

The man above you nods, placing two tiny kisses on your lips while his hips move with the pressure of your hand, “I’ll pull out, I promise,” he has never given you a reason to distrust his promises and you won't start now.

He captures your lips in a searing kiss with a low growl as you push more of him inside you. To be fair, the feeling isn’t that much different from when he wears condoms, the thin feel condoms he buys, he buys for a reason.

But this wasn��t about feeling his cock raw, it was about connecting with him just that little bit more, about showing your trust in him.

The head of his cock slowly hits you deeper, each time he jerks his hips into you, he penetrates deeper inside. The feel of your naked walls on his bell feels unreal, the way each bump scrapes his tender tip makes him groan, his head buried into your neck to muffle his sounds.

“You feel so good, Hoonie,” With his cock now fully inside you, your fingertips graze up his tensing toned stomach and around to his back, caressing him gently, “Faster, please,” you ask as your hands slide to his ass, pushing down rhymically to set him at a new pace.

Sunghoon loves when you subtly take control, still letting him be the one to fuck you so good you see stars while telling him how to get you there. He can read your body so well but that doesn’t mean you can’t tell him what else you need from him.

Lifting your bottom half, he holds your hips and pounds into you the way you want, the velocity of his thrusts sends your eyes to the back of your head. You can’t help but moan his name loudly, chanting it like you’re possessed, “Sunghoon, shit, don’t stop.”

He chuckles, looking down at you, “You’re mad if you think I ever would.”

Shuffling so your butt is balancing on his thighs, he bucks up into you with the same speed but now he’s using one of his free hands to rub your clit, adding a new layer of intensity, “Holy fuck,” You thrash under him as your nub tingles at his touch.

Your words provide him with all the encouragement he needs to give you even more, “You’re so good at taking me, Sweets. Look how good you are,” He entices you to look down but you stop as you finally look at his face; the sweat dripping from his forehead, some of it collected in the creases of his brows as he scrunches his face, focused only on fucking you into heaven. His mouth is hanging open, pushing out short breaths to mirror the movement of his hips.

He’s so deliciously hot.

If your pussy could actually purr, it would be, but instead, it’s clenching to show that you’re close. The tightness doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who smirks, looking at you with hooded eyes, “You gonna cum, baby?”

Sunghoon’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he flicks your clit faster, trying to get you closer to the edge. This will be the first time he’s experiencing you cumming on his raw cock, so he’s a little impatient, desperate to know what your core feels like as it grips him naked.

“Hoon..Hoonie..” your heartbeat is rapidly increasing in your chest but your breathing is slowing down, a clear indicator that you’re coming undone, “I’m cumming, fuck, I’m cumming.”

“Yeah, you are, sweetheart” Sunghoon has to control himself but it’s painfully difficult as he feels your walls clamp down and contract on his member. He’s so engrossed in the feeling of you that he keeps going, pressing your stomach down with his arm to stop you from escaping and slipping off him.

His thumb goes hard at your swollen bud, the fast sensation causing you to try and pull away. It feels like you’re on fire but Sunghoon has no desire to stop. He physically can’t, you feel too good, the squirming of your hips mixed in with your walls hugging him, there was no way he could give it up just yet.

You choke on the air you're actively trying to get into your lungs as your boyfriend overstimulates you. It’s painful, yet, you’re begging for it not to stop.

“Oh my god, Hoon.” your voice is sore from all the moaning and dry mouth you have.

“I’m nearly there, Sweets. Fuck, I’m so close.” Now that he’s seeking his own release, he switches his position, opting to have you as close to him as possible. With the little strength he has left, he hugs your body and scoops you to sit fully on his cock, tits bouncing in his face as he guides you up and down his shaft, “Y/N, can you keep it clenched for me? Please?” The please comes out as a whispered beg.

Nodding, you gather your focus to your pussy and squeeze him and it’s like you’re suddenly seeing stars, his cock sloppily hitting your g-spot over and over thanks to the newfound tightness.

Shutting his eyes to truly envelope himself in the feel of you, his stomach tightens, balls throbbing as he stops himself from cumming, “Fuck, wait,” he abruptly lifts you off him, the last drag of his head against your squeezed hole has ropes of his cum shooting up as high as your breasts, “Y/N, shit, Jesus.”

You stare at his cock as it keeps unloading between you both, creating a sticky mess on both of your bodies. It’s always so beautiful to see him cum like this, although usually it’s on your face after you’ve given him a blow job.

Both of you are equally spent, panting filling the otherwise silent room. You revel in the aftermath of the ecstasy, the air thick with the scent of your combined essence.

As the waves of pleasure gradually ebb away, you feel contentment wash over your body and mind, eliciting a smile from you. This was truly the best night of your life.

Sunghoon’s eyes drag up your body as he notices the cum splattered on your tits, “Fucking hell, look at you,” his tone is saturated in awe and delight as he drinks you in. Honestly, he didn’t know he could shoot that far; he’ll have to give himself a pat on the back later for creating the masterpiece in front of him.

Swiftly, he brings his mouth back to your tit, licking the cum from you and your eyes widen in shock. Guys don’t tend to even want to kiss you if you’ve swallowed their cum, never mind cleaning it off your body.

Truthfully, Sunghoon isn’t in his right mind just yet, still clouded with lust, aching for any sort of contact with you. Your tits are all he sees.

“Sunghoon?” you try to bring him back but it doesn’t work, you’ll need to physically drag him away from your chest. Cupping his face, you bring him to level with you again, “You okay?”

“I need you so fucking much,” he whispers, his lips seeking yours in a tender kiss.

Your laughter dances between you, "You just had me," you tease, the warmth of his lips against yours sparking a playful energy between you.

But his next words sober the moment, revealing a depth of feeling that leaves you breathless. "No, like in every sense, I fucking need you. I can't imagine even breathing without you," he admits, his vulnerability laid bare in the afterglow of the moment.

Moved by Sunghoon's heartfelt confession, you feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you. With an adoring smile, you caress his cheek, your touch a silent reassurance of your love for him.

"I need you too, Sunghoon," you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath against his lips. "More than anything.” It’s a simple mirror of his words, but you hope he knows you truly mean it.

To be frank, even if you had just said ‘ditto’ back, he would have been content. There are feelings for you so deep routed into his soul that he’s terrified and excited all at once.

And you’re all his.

“My girlfriend,” he beams, finally coming out of his lust coma, “You’re mine.”

His words strike a chord deep inside you, creating an overwhelming feeling of belonging and security that wraps around your heart like a warm embrace. With a delicate grin, you return his adoration, your fingers tracing soft patterns along his jawline as you enjoy the tenderness of his affection for you.

"I'm yours, Hoonie," you say quietly your voice full of reverence, "Until you want to get rid of me."

Kissing your palm, he smirks, trailing all the way up your arm and along your shoulder, “I’m literally never letting you go, I’m sorry,” his eyes shine a playful glint as he peppers kisses along your face, “That also means right now.”

He quickly pushes you back into the mattress, both of you laughing as he softly kisses your nose; nevertheless, you know the gentleness will fade as soon as he realises he hasn't even eaten you yet. It’s not in him not to devour your pussy.

You can only sigh in satisfaction as he runs his lips down your stomach.

This is everything you’ve ever wanted. He is everything you’ve ever wanted.

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