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randomfanfics02 · 1 month

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Five times I whispered 'I love you.' Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader.

Summary; Being Daphne's best friend had its perks, growing up alongside the Bridgerton family, going to the balls with them, and falling in love with her older brother.

Warning; shit tone of fluff, little smut, angst. Family death; readers mother passed away and Father is ill with similar traits as the King. Readers last name is Taylor.

Distractions.

"Y/n,"

You pause, looking through the mirror at Daphne, your fingers run through your curls, a simple lilac dress hugging your frame beautifully.

"Dear, why are you running?" You laugh, raising a questioning brow at the oldest Bridgerton daughter.

"I need your help, the Duke is on his way and I need a moment alone with him-"

"Out of wedlock," You turn around to face Daphne, with a gasp, you place a hand on your chest with a teasing smirk, "How scandalous."

Daphne whacks your shoulder, passing you to take a lipstick from her vanity, "No, I need you to go downstairs and distract Anthony for me, mother has taken the others to the market and you are my only help."

"It will cost you three new books-"

"Of course," Daphne beams, pressing a kiss on your cheek, "Thank you."

You hum in reply, the two of you quickly scurrying to window as the carriage arrives at the front of the house. You both share a look before the two of rush out her room and down the stairs, hands held together as you try not too trip over your dresses.

"Go quickly, I'll distract him," You gently push Daphne towards the door before rushing towards Anthony's office.

Taking a deep breath, you straighten your dress and gently knock on his door. Hearing a faint, 'come in', you gently open the door, popping your head around the corner as he looks up from his desk.

"Lord Bridgerton," You greet with a smile, "I was wondering-"

"What are you up too?" Anthony frowns, placing down his work, "You have that look on your face-"

"I have no look upon my face-"

"You certainty do-"

"My face holds nothing but beauty,"

Anthony laughs, standing up as you smile teasingly at him, "You hold a lot of beauty, Lady Taylor."

You feel your cheeks blush as he gets himself a drink, he leans against his desk as he watches you. You hold his eyes for a moment before clearing your throat, "I was wondering if you wanted to walk with me in the gardens, Daphne is busy-"

"Of course," Anthony replies, taking his jacket from the back of his chair.

"Are you not busy?"

"Not for you," Anthony offers you his arm with a smile, "And I can't have my sisters dear friend wondering around alone."

You smile, taking his arm as the two of you head towards the gardens, you look over your shoulder catching Daphne followed by the Duke who gives you a cheeky wink to which you roll your eyes at playfully.

Anthony holds the door for you, and you head out into the gardens. Beautiful lines of flowers lead down the garden path towards the pond, where a tall white fountain sits in the middle of it.

"Its beautiful out here," You say, letting your fingertips run over tall pink flowers, "You should host a picnic."

Anthony hums in agreement, "And whom should attend?"

"Me," You raise a brow at him, making him tilt his head down towards yours with a smile on his own.

"You practically live here," He jokes, "But you are more than welcome."

Your hand falls from Anthony's arm as Hyacinth and Gregory come bounding towards the two of you, their nanny running close behind with bright red cheeks. You catch Hyacinth in your arms, placing the ten year old on you hip as she hugs you.

"Y/n," She beams, "Have you seen our new flowers, mother had them placed by the entrance, they are tall and purple and-"

"They are beautiful," You press a kiss on her cheek, Anthony watches with small smile, holding Gregory's hand in his own as the four of you continue your walk, "What are you two playing?"

"We were just running around," Gregory answers, gently swinging his and Anthony's hands.

"Sounds exhausting," You roll your eyes playfully as Hyacinth giggles at you.

"Anthony?" Gregory pauses, pointing over into the distance, "What is that?"

Your eyes go wide as Anthony looks over at you, then towards the carriage at the front of the house. Anthony races towards the entrance as you place down Hyacinth, taking hers and Gregory's hand as you follow behind him.

Reaching the entrance, the carriage is long gone, leaving Daphne stood at the doors with a small smile. Anthony skids to a stop, looking up at his sister with a questioning look. You stop beside Daphne, holding a cheeky smile as he glares at you, now knowing your true intentions for wanting to go for a walk.

"I best excuse myself," You press a kiss on the two youngest's head before pressing one on Daphne's kiss, who whispers a thank you. Making your way down the steps, you lean up to press a kiss on his cheek, "Have a lovely evening, Ant."

Anthony watches you walk away, fingertips brushing over his cheek as Daphne laughs, he glares up at her, "You are unable to question my love life if you are unable to sort out yours, brother."

Anthony watches as his sister ushers his little brother and sister inside the house before looking over his shoulder in the distance you had wondered off too.

2. Always.

"Lady Taylor,"

You jump in surprise as The Duke bursts into the room, eyes wide, breathing heavily, cloths in disarray. It was late a night, your home library only lit up by a few candles. You place down your book, heart pounding in your chest as catch onto the worry in his eyes.

"Daphne has gone into labour, Y/n," He hurries, offering you his hand as you rush with him through your house.

"What is happening?" Your father questions, stepping outside of his office.

"It's Daphne papa," You quickly explain, slipping on your shoes, "She has gone into labour."

"Wish her my best," You father smiles, looking over your shoulder at the Duke who takes your hand again gently pulling you along, "And you too son, you'll be a fine father."

The Duke smile quickly, closing the doors behind you before climbing into the carriage, "Are you alright?"

Simon nods, knee bobbing up and down, his face written with anxiety, "I am worried."

"Daphne is a strong woman, I have grown up alongside her and she will be a wonderful mother," You reassure him before teasingly adding, "So will you."

Simon laughs, "Thank you, Y/n. She asked for you, she needs you beside her."

"Always."

"As did the Viscount," Simon says, you open your mouth to reply but he beats you too it, "He trusts you, I have never seen Anthony so infatuated."

The rest of the carriage ride is sat in silence. Your heart pounding in your chest as you arrive, Simon rushes out before you, you quickly following as you rush towards Daphne's room. Reaching the hallway towards her room, The Duke runs past the siblings who sit scattered outside the in the hallway. Anthony pushes off the wall he was leaning on, quickly taking your hands as Daphne's scream echoes down the hall as Simon walks back into her room.

Your eyes stay onto his, squeezing his hand, "I have too-"

"I know," Anthony nods, pressing a gently kiss on your hands, "Be with her."

You walk past the siblings, pressing a quick kiss on Hyacinth's head as you pass. Anthony watches as you close the bedroom door behind you, before sighing, slumping back down beside Benedict.

"Are you ever going to come to your senses?"

Anthony frowns, looking at his brother, "Pardon?"

"Y/n, she has grown with us," Benedict leans his head back against the wall, "You don't look at her like how Colin and I do, you look at her as if she holds your world."

Anthony shakes his head, "I do not wish to burden Y/n with our family-"

"She is family."

Hours had past. Gregory and Hyacinth had gone to bed, the rest of the siblings fallen asleep in the hall. Benedict passes his brother a drink as he rubs his eyes tiredly.

"I believe it will be a boy," Benedict mumbles tiredly as Anthony hums in agreement.

Their heads shot up as you quietly come from the room, gently closing it behind you, you smile brightly, "It's a boy."

Anthony and Benedict share a laugh, as the other siblings startle awake. They celebrate together as Anthony walks towards you, gently wiping away the happy tear that rolled down your cheek. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead as you rest your hands on his chest as holds you close.

"Thank you, Y/n."

"Always, Anthony."

3. Take my hand.

Aubrey Hall looked stunning under the summer sun, the garden decorated with numerous tents, surrounding a platform for dancing, a band siting in the corner.

"It looks truly beautiful," Daphne mutters as you nod in agreement, watching as Lords and Ladies began to dance under the evening sky.

Anthony and Colin walk up to the two of you and Anthony takes a moment to take in how breath taking you look. A sheer black dress sat over a burgundy one with think straps, sheer black gloves reach over your elbows, dark hair curled and pulled into a perfect bun. He smiled gently as you thank him for the drink he passed you, the four of you stand on the steps watching down on the garden party.

"Is that Lord Elton your father is talking too?" Colin asks, squinting under the sun as the three of your follow Colin's gaze, "Why would your father be speaking to Lord Elton, the man that has been rumoured to be the biggest prick of the ton."

Anthony reaches behind you, smacking his brother around the back of his head, but none-the-less doesn't disagree.

"Why would your father be talking to Lord Elton?" Colin asks as Daphne and yourself share a worried expression.

"I will be back in a moment," You rush down the steps and hurry towards your father.

Anthony watches with a heavy feeling sat in his heart as you gently interrupt their conversation. His stare hardens as Lord Elton gently presses a kiss on the back of your hand.

"Stop glaring," Daphne gently nudges her older brothers arm.

"Lady Y/n looks beautiful tonight, I am sure he is hoping for much more,"

Anthony smacks his brother again as Daphne rolls her eyes at the two, "Anthony, you truly need to see that Y/n would be a fine wife for you."

"She is your closest friend, Daphne," Anthony replies, swallowing thickly as he watches you, "She is family-"

"She makes the world stop for you, doesn't she?" Daphne rhetorically asks, "She makes you happy and you make her happy too, I only wish for the two of you to be happy together."

Anthony looks down at his sister, mirroring her soft smile as he presses a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Colin chuckles, "In other words brother, be a man and tell her how you feel." Colin ducks before his older brother could smack him.

You pull your father to the side as Lord Elton walks away to get himself a drink. Your father was the only family you had after your mother's passing a few years ago. Recently, your father had been having these spells as your father calls it, moments where he forgot about the world around him and focused on the stars, believing your mother was calling him from the stars.

"Lord Elton is a good man-"

"Father, I understand you are worried but he is not a good man, I wouldn't be happy-"

"But you would be safe and have money, the children you have will be looked after," You father gently argues, cupping your face he brushes his thumb over your cheek, "If I can not remember you, my darling, I want to forget with you secure and with someone I trust."

"You trust him?" You ask, brows pinched together as you look at your father, "Don't you want me to be happy?"

"Lord Elton is hardly around, he is wealthy," You father answers, "You would have my inheritance-"

"That he would take, he is a wicked man-"

"You mustn't think the worst of people," Your father's gaze harden slightly as he sighs, shoulders dropping, "I don't know how long I have left and I need you to be safe when I pass."

"I will-"

"Lord Elton will provide for you, and he has enough to do so," You father finalizes, "I will be giving him my blessing."

Your father walks away as you watch with a sudden pit of anxiety sat in your stomach. Looking over your shoulder the Bridgeton siblings had disappeared which your thankful for as you rush up the stairs and into the house.

You rush further into the house, away from the garden party, you finally sob, pressing a gloved hand over your mouth as you slide down the wall, falling into tears.

Outside Anthony watches as you quickly walk away and into the house, passing his drink to Benedict before quickly following. He smiles politely as people greet him before rushing further into the house. Anthony frowns, falling beside you to bring you into a hug letting you sob into his chest.

"My father is ill," You whisper, as you wipe away your tears, moving to lean your head on his shoulder.

"I am sorry," Anthony replies, pressing a kiss on your head, "What is wrong?"

"He has these spells," You quietly say, "He believes he can hear my mother and she is telling him to meet him in the stars, he has fits and spells of anger where he locks himself in his office."

"What can be done?" Anthony take one of your gloves off, lacing your fingers together.

"Nothing," You reply, wiping another fallen tear, "He wants to marry me off to Lord Elton so he can pass knowing I am safe-"

"Lord Elton is a wicked man-"

"Please tell my father, Ant," You lean your chin on his shoulder as he peers down at you, "I don't want to marry him."

"I know," Anthony presses a kiss on your forehead, "I won't let it happen."

You breath a laugh, tightening your hand in his, "And how will you do that, my Lord?"

Anthony swallows thickly, before resting his forehead on yours, "Whatever to make sure you are happy."

4. Our final moment.

On a warm summers day, your father hosted a game of croquet, inviting the Bridgerton family, The Duke and Lord Elton for a friendly game. Taylor summer house was grand, your favourite home; tall tower like structures either side of the grand entrance, a library with bookcases from the floor to the ceiling and a garden that reached for miles, the house surrounded by trees. It was simply beautiful.

"May I say," Lord Elton says, pushing back his thick dark hair off the thin line of sweat, "This house would be magnificent to raise children in."

You share a look with Daphne after Lord Elton winked at you. Anthony glared at him as the Duke nudged him, raising a brow at him to which he rolled his eyes at. You gently tugged the sleeves of your lace sleeves over your knuckles as your father awkwardly chuckles, breaking the slight pause at the Lord's comment.

"I think Lord Taylor and I will sit the rest of this out," Violet gently smiles, placing a comforting hand on your arm sensing your uneasiness.

"I agree, I grow tired quickly now I grow old," You father jokes, smiling gratefully as Benedict passes him a drink before he sits.

"You've been old for awhile, father," You press a quick kiss on his head as you pass, smiling as Anthony passes you a blue mallet. The sibling's yourself and the Duke, carry on with the game, walking down the garden hill to the next match.

"What a quick tongue," Lord Elton jokes, taking the yellow mallet from Anthony's hand, "I am sure we can fix that when you'll be mine."

"I am no object you can claim," You take the yellow mallet from his hands, passing it back to Anthony as you pass, "And I do not need to be fixed."

Anthony shares a smirk with Simon as Daphne and Eloise share a laugh hidden under their hands. Benedict pats your shoulder with a proud smile before you take your shot perfectly.

As the game continues, you stand beside Anthony and Daphne, laughing gently at Colin's misfortune and bad aim. Lord Elton follows on, whacking the ball and Anthony's out the way making Anthony's roll down the hill. Anthony glares as you roll your eyes at Lord Elton's smirk. Daphne goes next, sending a cheeky wink to her husband as she hits your ball, coincidently making it follow Anthony's.

"I guess we need to go for a hunt, Lord Bridgerton," You smile cheekily, taking Anthony's arm.

As Lord Elton goes to object, Anthony smiles, "We will catch up, continue."

Simon wraps an arm around Daphne's shoulders as the two share a knowing smile.

Anthony and yourself walk down the hill, your hand falls into his in a more intimate moment, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The two of you found your croquet balls stuck in mud at the edge of the tree line.

"Come on,"

Anthony watches as you walk into the mud, bunching your dress in one hand. You whack the ball out of the mud, before looking at Anthony with a raised brow. He chuckles before sighing as he steps into the mud, whacking the ball out of the mud and beside yours. Anthony takes a step out of the mud, sighing at his new black shoes now covered in mud.

"Anthony,"

Anthony looks over at you, who is struggling to get out of the mud, your mallet now fallen beside you as you try and pull your foot out. Anthony steps back into the mud, hand catching yours, as he gently pulls you into his arms.

Looking down at you, you hold onto his arms, tugging gently to try and free yourself, "May I lift you?"

"You may,"

Placing his hands on your waist, you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he lifts you out of the mud. As he goes to walk out of the mud, he finds himself stuck making to two of you tumble forward. You back hits the mud first, his body falling on yours. The two of you gaze at each other, before breaking into a fit of laughter, your arms wrap around his shoulders, legs slotted together.

"Your covered in mud," Anthony murmurs as the laughter dies, bright smiles gracing your faces.

"My back and just your knees," You wink, "How scandalous."

Anthony laughs again, eyes searching yours as his cheeks blush pink, "A rumour that may save you from marriage."

"So that was your plan all along,"

"Possibly."

His eyes flickered over your face, before falling onto your lips, you barely tilted your head at him, raising your brows when you let your eyes level at his mouth, at those pink lips.

"Anthony," You breathlessly whispered.

His lips meet in the most romantic kiss, one full of passion and unspoken love. A muddied hand cupped your cheek as Anthony leaned down on his elbow beside your head, you hands fell to cup the back of his head, fingertips running down his nape as you pulled him, if possible, closer. You moaned into his mouth as the hand that once cupped your cheek gripped your hip tightly bunching your dress in his fist as instinctively hitch your leg over his hip.

The kisses turn more hungry and needy, his tongue dancing over yours as his hips press into yours. His hand runs over your ankle that sits on his hip, running his hand down the length of your smooth leg before resting it on your upper thigh.

"Lady Y/n! Anthony!"

The two of you quickly pull apart as Colin comes bounding down the hill. Scrambling to your feet, Anthony helps you out of the mud before picking up your mallet passing it to you before picking up his own. Colin stops, looking between the two of you with a wide cheeky grin.

"You have a little mud on your cheek," Colin points to your cheek making your eyes go wide as you quickly try brushing away the mud off your cheek.

"We will be there in a moment," Anthony tells his brother.

Colin nods, unable to take the smile off his face as he sends you a cheeky wink before walking back up the hill. Anthony takes his handkerchief from his pocket, standing in front of you as her cups your cheek, gently cleaning the mud from your cheek. His eyes never leave yours as he does. Shrugging out of his jacket, he wraps it around your shoulders, helping you slide your arms into his jacket.

"To hide the mud," He quietly jokes, making you blush.

"Thank you," Anthony smiles, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

5. 'I love you.'

Lord Elton held a ball in order to celebrate your engagement. Though it was a little beforehand as you had yet to be asked for your hand in marriage. The hall was decorated beautifully with white flowers, tall champagne towers and a band playing on a stage.

Anthony was unable to look away from you; a white dress with lace detailing and long sleeves that fell over your knuckles, flower embroidery decorating the skirt. You hair was long and curled, half of it pinned back with delicate pearls.

"You are staring again," Eloise nudged her brothers arm.

"I can not help it," Anthony admits, eyes meeting your as you look over your shoulder, you send him a kind smile though your eyes betray you true feelings.

"This is your last chance to tell her," Eloise tells him softly, taking a sip of her drink, "Or Lord Prick will marry her."

Anthony chuckles, looking down at his sister fondly, "Stop listening to Colin's foul language."

"I believe I learnt that from you, brother."

You grasp your father hand in your own as his began to shake. Lord Elton rambles on about something, but you pay no attention, focusing on your father.

"Lord, I hope you don't mind but I think my father has had enough for tonight," You smile gently at him, "I think its time to go home."

"Of course, I will accompany you-"

"That isn't necessary-"

"When you are mine, I will not let you out of my sight," Lord Elton pulling your father closing to him and out of your hand, "I will take him to the carriage, get whatever you need."

You watch helplessly as he takes you father away, worry sitting in the pit of your stomach as you gently push through the crowd. The announcement that the ball is over is shouted as you take Daphne's hand, gently pulling her aside.

Her worried eyes meet your own, "My father is about to have a spell and Lord Elton is coming with us, possibly to propose, what do I do?"

She squeezes your hand, "Talk to him, quickly. My brother loves you, go before it's too late."

You nod, quickly pressing a kiss on her cheek before quickly walking towards the eldest Bridgerton brother. He stands alone, waiting for his siblings and mother to collect themselves before getting into the carriage. His eyes widen as you approach meeting you halfway, placing his hand on your shoulders as his eyes meet your worried ones.

"What happened?"

"I am taking my father home, he is unwell," You rush out, "Tell me you love me."

"Pardon-?"

"The prick will propose with my father's blessing in his state, he is playing a wicked game and I know it, so tell me you love me as I love you and be the man my father wants me to marry, be that man I feel safe with."

Anthony's brain pauses, his heart stopping as his hands fall from your shoulders. You heart hurts, taking his moment to mean rejection. You look over your shoulder as a butler calls your name, telling you a carriage has arrived.

Looking back at Anthony, he stares, eyes glazed over as you nod once before walking away, brushing past the Bridgerton siblings, ignoring Daphne as she calls your name.

"He missed his chance," Eloise sadly mutters, head falling onto Benedict's shoulder as he watches his older brother crumble.

---

Holding your father's hand tightly, you guide him through the house as he mutters quietly to himself. Taking him into the office, you sit him down into the chair before pulling the curtains closed, closing your father away from the heavy rain and sudden shout of thunder.

"What is happening?" Lord Elton asks as you father mutters to himself, head in hands as you kneel beside him.

"He is fine," You defensively dismiss him, "Thank you for your assistance but you may leave-"

"He is losing his mind," Lord Elton laughs, watching as your father gently rocks himself, looking up at the ceiling, muttering about your mother and the stars, "Look at the man."

"Don't you dare-"

"Do what?" Lord Elton rhetorically asks, taking a further step into the office, "You are simply a woman and he is a freak."

"You are simply a beast of a man, one that is cruel and heartless," You spit, clutching your father hands tighter in your own as a tear rolls down your cheek, "I will never except your hand in marriage."

Lord Elton glare down at you, before spitting horridly at yours and your fathers feet, "I wouldn't touch the Bridgerton's whore anyway."

"Leave before I write to the Queen herself, describing how much of a prick you truly are, and then no woman will want to touch you."

Lord Elton snarls before slamming every door on his way out. You turn to your father, letting go of one of his hands to gently cup his face, he tiredly blinks at you as you wipe away a tear.

"I am sorry," Your father quietly whispers, "I am so sorry, my dear."

"Do not apologise, you wanted what was best for me," You reply with a quick pained smile, "But I am afraid what I thought was best for me, doesn't want me."

"Anthony knows, he is just scared." Your father gently rests his forehead on yours, "Your mother was everything to me, when you where born you became everything as well, I want what is best for you and I got carried away in my own worries that you would be alone when I pass that I was unable to see how I was going to marry you with a man that was going to do more harm than happiness."

"You need to rest," You pull away, standing up to help him, "I will ask the cook to get you something warm to eat-"

"I can do that, darling," You father squeezes your hand, giving you a warm smile, "Go and find your happiness."

"I can not leave you like this-"

You father presses a kiss on the back of your hand, "I will be fine, now go."

---

"I froze, how could I be so stupid?"

Benedict sighs, sitting beside his brother, who holds his head in his hands, cheeks stained with tears. Daphne kneels in front of him, placing a hand on his knee as Violet sits the other side of him, placing a comforting hand on her son's back.

"Love makes us do stupid things," His mother gently whispers sadly.

"I have loved her for so long and Y/n tells me she loves me and I suddenly do not know how to reply," Anthony finally breaks, looking at his mother as a tear runs down his cheek, "I have lost her."

"No, no you have not," Violet brings her son in her arms, pressing a kiss on his head, "You can still go to her, tell her before it is too late."

"Lord Elton-"

"Do you honestly believe that Y/n would chose Lord Elton over the one she truly loves?"

Anthony looks down at his sister, who offers him a knowing smile. Benedict pats his brother's shoulder, mirroring Daphne's smile.

Violet nods, squeezing her son's hand tightly, "Go and get your happiness, Anthony."

---

The maids shout after you as you rush out of the house, hands gripping your dress tightly as you run through the rain. You hair sticks to your neck, the white dress ruined but you couldn't find yourself to care.

The Bridgerton siblings and Violet watch as Anthony rushes out of the house, smiling happily as they watch Anthony run down the street. Simon takes his wife's hand in his own, pressing a kiss on her head before gently taking his son out of her arms. Eloise beams as Colin wraps an arm around her shoulder as Benedict wraps his arms around the two youngest. Violet wipes the tear off her cheek as she finally watches her eldest son chase after the purest love.

Rounding the corner, the streets are empty, only lit up by the golden glow from the house windows. You suddenly stop as he does, standing opposite sides of the road. His hair sticks to his forehead, white skirt sticking to his arms as his blue waistcoat is soaked in rain.

Your chest heaves as your heart pounds in your chest, the two of you clash into a hug. His arms wrap around your waist as your wrap around his shoulders, holding you close to him, he presses a light kiss on your neck before pulling away slightly.

"I do, I do love you," Anthony breaths out, "I am sorry I froze, but hearing you tell me you love me, I- It was all I have ever wanted to hear."

You smile, gently pressing a hand to the back of his nape, resting his forehead to yours, "There are many reasons why I couldn't marry Lord Elton, not only because he was a prick but because I couldn't imagine marry anyone else but you."

"Then marry me," Anthony says, nose brushing against yours as he smiles, "Let me call you my wife, let me have children with you, grow old with you, let me kiss you when I want, let me love you."

You share a kiss under the stars, one full of spoken and knowing love, one of passion and understanding. His hand holds the back of your head as your hands slide down his shoulders, resting on his chest, his heart thumping under your touch. He holds onto desperately, kissing you with all his love, before gently pulling away, resting his forehead on yours with a love sick smile.

"I love you," Anthony whispered against your lips.

"I love you too."

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gojonanami · 8 months

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IS IT OVER NOW? - SUGURU GETO (ft. SATORU GOJO)

summary: suguru thinks the only way you'll leave him is if he lies to you about cheating on him - and it is. but turns out, you're not so easy to leave -- for him and his best friend. contents: 18+ only, smut, mentions of cheating, swearing, spoilers for vol. 0 + star plasma vessel and premature death arc, so much angst, but also too much smut (gotta earn that smut by getting through the angst), multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex, fingering (f receiving), oral (f + m receiving), slight choking, panty play, overstimulation (f receiving) wc: 11,150 (why do i do this) playlist: is it over now - taylor swift, now that we don't talk - taylor swift, you are in love - taylor swift, say don't go - taylor swift

“It’s over,” the words slipped out of his mouth like second nature, the same way “I love yous” left his lips with a smile against your neck, but now those same lips were in a tight line. His eyes once filled with mirth, now stared at you with nothing in them — nothing but empty truth.

You don’t believe your ears — and how could you? The same man who laid with you on sleepless nights, in the silence of the way home after brutal losses, mornings spent in his wrinkled uniform white button up, stupid arguments ended in laughter, and the whispered promises kept like oaths in your hearts.

But now, they were broken — broken like your heart was.

“It’s over, I’m sorry — I can’t do this anymore,” and you’re stepping forward over this ravine with a snapping tightrope, but he’s on the other side with a lighter and a knife — daring you to cross it. Because he wouldn’t catch you — not anymore, “it’s not you—“

“Don’t give me bullshit assurances, Suguru,” you spit, the same name you had woken up this morning on your lips, all the love he had fostered over two and half years eroding away with his few words — slipping into hatred without another word, “give me a reason, I know Amanai and Haibara hurt you — hell, it hurt me too, but—“

“Don’t bring them up—“ he seethes, the same passion he once had for you — for even a scratch you had gotten from a mission that he promised to make a curse pay for again and again by making it serve him — now used for people who weren’t even here anymore, “it has nothing to do with them,”

And you almost laugh. It had everything to do with them. You had watched him fall apart over this summer — scapegoat the summer heat to Satoru’s face, when it wasn’t the heat that was withering him to nothing — a wilting flower simmered under the heat of loss. And with no one who could reach him — because he wouldn’t let them.

“You know that’s not true—”

“I cheated on you,” and the words die on your lips — along with any hope you had, “it was a stupid mistake but it showed me we can’t keep doing this,”

“You’re lying,” you denied it — no, no, no.

“I’m not,” and you can’t make sense of it, sense of anything, images of him tangled with another assaulting your senses — assaulting your heart, your soul, your body — bile rising in your throat that seared you on the way down as you swallow, “I didn’t want to have to tell you, but if it’s the only way for you to accept this, so be it,”

“Fuck off, you didn’t want to ‘have to tell me,’” hot, angry tears burning at your eyes, “fuck you,”

“Sweet—“

“You don’t get to call me that,” you snarl, heart rattling your ribs, as if it was trying to break through its bony cage, as if puncturing itself on the shards of your bones would hurt less, “not unless you’re trying to fix this,” you bargain, bargain for a love that was already lost.

“We can’t do this — I can’t do this to you,” and you give a watery chuckle, unable to meet his gaze; meet the gaze you once thought was your salvation — the thing you fought day in and day out to come home to, “I’m sorr—”

“Don’t bother,” you bottle the sadness in a barely kept shut box, shoved beneath your icy exterior, ice crawling over the recesses of your shattered soul, “don’t apologize for me for something you chose to do,” and you turn to walk away.

“Where are you going?”

And you give a terse chuckle, turning to look back, “you don’t get to care anymore, Geto.”

~~~

It was necessary. It was necessary. It was necessary.

That’s what Suguru keeps telling himself. He was caught in a tailspin, a tailspin that was only leading him one place, and he couldn’t take you with him. He couldn’t let that happen. But you keep haunting his thoughts, along with the other ghosts holed up in his head.

He hasn’t seen you in weeks. Only sporadic updates from Shoko when she humored his questions with a bribe of free cigarettes — and he didn’t know what you had told her but he knew you hadn’t told her that he had cheated (because Shoko would have surely ignored him). Shoko had even snuck a picture of you. You had grown your hair out, eyes no longer full of the joy as it once had been, and a cigarette you had said you had sworn you would never smoke between your lips.

And it only makes him want to pull the cigarette from your lips and kiss you again, swallow the smoke poisoning your lungs, hoping your lips would clear the poison from his system. But he couldn’t — he couldn’t go back now. Not when he couldn’t shake the darkness that crept over his soul — he couldn't go back to that spring, because those old days had died along with everyone else around him. Shot through the head just like Amanai.

He stares at the picture and it only makes him more sure — he can’t be in your life. He can’t be yours, he can’t even be your friend — because he can’t pretend it’s just platonic — can’t pretend it means nothing — not when you can see right through him, see the light fading from inside him, and you’d try to save him. Because that’s what you do. So he pays the cost instead, the cost of losing you — of losing your smiles, your laughs, your tears, and your voice.

And he didn’t even have his dignity — he had left that behind when he had lied to your face. Lied because he knew it was the only way you’d leave, and he couldn’t risk you staying. He couldn’t let your fingers dig into his sides, as he let himself drown, he couldn’t watch you choke on water along with him — no, no, it couldn’t happen.

He had long drowned — on that beach in Okinawa.

He got a phone call — Yaga — likely with another mission, and he only can think about Tsukomo’s words — over and over and over. He was treating the symptoms, eradicating curses day in and day out, he himself was a symptom of a broken system — a broken sorcerer.

And he flips his phone open, staring at the screensaver of you and him, your sleepy smile as you look up at the camera nuzzled against his chest — filled with the same love in your eyes that he watched drain from your eyes when he fed you perfectly prepared lies.

“Hello, yes, I’m available for a mission,” he hears Yaga give him the details of the mission on the other line, but it barely registers.

But at least he wouldn’t break you too.

~~~

You wake to a pounding at the door — the one time you had gotten time off, the one time you had taken the vacation you swore you would, the vacation that you would have your phone off, doors locked, no communication with anyone with Jujutsu Tech.

And yet.

There was someone banging on your door at 11:09 PM at night.

You stare at your ceiling at the spinning fan above you, and you couldn’t imagine how this night could get any worse. You throw off your covers, only in sleep shorts and a t-shirt, grumbling as you meander your way to the door to find Satoru, standing at your doorstep.

Your heart drops.

“What— did—“

“Suguru defected,” and you stare at him, as if he’s speaking a foreign language — two words made no sense in that order, no, no — he wouldn’t do that. Suguru out of anyone wouldn’t do that.

“No, that can’t—“ and Satoru comes inside, brushing past you, “Satoru—“

“It’s not just that,” he says softly, “he slaughtered a village, and his parents,” and you’re shaking your head, “why are you shaking your head—“

“What kind of weird prank is this, Satoru— he wouldn’t—“ and your voice dies in his throat as you see the look on his face, and all other words fade away from your lips except one — “why?”

And he explains — tells you what Suguru had told him, what had happened, why he left — “I couldn’t bring myself to kill him,” he murmurs, shaking his head, “I should have — if I had done what he did, Suguru wouldn’t have hesitated—“

“He wouldn’t have been able to do that to you, Satoru,” you scoff, leaning against your couch, Satoru sat beside you, “you’re the most important person to him, he wouldn’t have been able to even fathom the idea of hurting you. He would have just tried to convince you to change your mind,”

He gives a bitter chuckle, “Well then, he would have been able to change my mind all the same,” he’s holding his face, as if it would keep himself from falling to pieces — but his hands are too late — you can see the broken pieces of what was Satoru Gojo in front of you.

“Satoru, you can’t put Suguru upon yourself to save — he made the choices he made, you can’t change them. You can’t fix a person who doesn’t want to be fixed,” and maybe you were projecting — but you swore you saw the same pain, the same pain the day he broken your heart in Satoru’s eyes, “Suguru is smart enough to know where this road is leading—”

“And why can’t I completely blame him for choosing it?” he murmurs, his cerulean eyes finally meeting yours over the rim of his sunglasses, “I understand how he feels — so do you, you’ve seen the broken system, the deaths that could have been prevented—”

“But is this the way to fix it with innocent peoples’ blood on our hands?” you whisper, almost afraid to hear his answer, “I have friends who aren’t sorcerers — would he have me slaughter them too?”

“Well, he killed his own parents, so I wouldn’t doubt that,” he shakes his head, “Suguru was never the type to do things half-heartedly,” and his gaze falls again to the floor, “do you know after I had retrieved Amanai’s body — I asked Suguru if we should kill all of those people in the Star Religious Group?”

“Satoru—”

“He said there would be no point in it — no reason,” and he’s licking his lips, pulling his glasses off, “but he found his reason now, didn’t he?”

“Satoru, you had just come off Amanai, almost dying, you had barely a moment to process—”

“Why did he tell me to stop? Why did he save me when he couldn’t do himself the same courtesy?” And he’s rising to his feet, pacing the room, unable to sit still, “I thought I’d come here and talk to you because who else could understand him more than me? Shoko maybe, but even she doesn’t know,” his fists are clenched at his sides, as he whirls to face you again, “Why? I don’t understand how a person can change so much — how can you go from protecting the weak to—”

“Satoru, I don’t know why Suguru does the things he does—did you forget? He broke up with me,” the words reopen old wounds you thought had long scarred over, flesh wounds that had ripped you open, but had closed back up, now bleeding like new, “and he cheated on me,” and walked away without another word — twisting the knife with his silence.

Satoru’s brows knit together, his mouth opening as if to dispute it, but closing again — because if Suguru could murder his own parents, why wouldn’t he cheat on his girlfriend?

“I’m sorry—” and you laugh bitterly, meeting his gaze.

“I think we have bigger problems than his unfaithfulness,” and he says nothing, “what are we going to do about him?”

“Nothing—”

You stare at him, lips parted, “Satoru—”

“I can’t kill him,” his voice breaks, and it breaks you too, “I couldn’t bear it. I can’t be the one to—”

“But you’re the only one who can—” and you swallow the lump in your throat — how could you tell him to kill Suguru when you couldn’t imagine doing it either? “then what do we do?”

“Nothing, for now,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, “I’ll monitor his moves as best I can, he’s good at covering his tracks — he knows how I operate more than anyone else does,” he says softly, “but not many can hide from the six eyes,”

“And you know how he does things too, Satoru,” you find your way his side, your fingers finding his, “it will take time for Suguru to make large moves — especially if he has two young children with him right now,” your heart aches at the thought — he promised to marry you one day, promised you a family once you both had settled down enough to consider it, and now he had two kids. But you weren’t with him.

His eyes find yours, “i’m sorry about what happened — I wasn’t there — I haven’t been here, at all—”

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Satoru,” and he’s shaking his head.

“Maybe I could have—”

“You can’t fix the whole world, Satoru,” you whisper gently, “you’re the strongest, yes, but that doesn't mean you can be everywhere and do everything,”

“I should have been here,” and you’re shaking your head, “I could’ve—”

“You couldn’t have, do you know how stubborn Suguru is? We couldn’t even convince him to cut his hair, much less change his mind about committing mass murder,” and he sighs, his eyes falling and rising to yours again, “hey, you’re okay, you know. You do too much, honestly, everything you’ve done — everything you will do—”

“And yet it will never feel like enough,” and you feel as if you could hear the same words leaving Suguru’s mouth too — the two had more in common than they had cared to admit.

“You are enough,” and your fingers find his cheek, “just as Satoru, you are,”

And his arms are pulling you into a hug then, head buried in your shoulder, his body consuming you with its warmth, your fingers running through his snowy locks, his tears wetting your shirt, but you say nothing, only holding him.

He pulls back after a few minutes, but his arms still wrapped around you, as he stares at you, barely any evidence of his tears, except for the redness on the tip of his nose, “You’re enough too,”

“I don’t know about that,” you joke, and he’s cutting you off with sharp words and a sharper look.

“You are, sweetheart,” and the familiar pet name makes your heart ache, “you’re more than enough,” and his palm is resting against his cheek, thumb rubbing the length of your cheek, “you’re so much more than you even know,”

And your breath catches as he draws near, “Satoru—” you shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. It wasn’t right. But why did his hands feel so nice against your cheeks? Why were you melting into his touch? Why didn’t you pull away?

“I just want to feel something else,” his hand is sliding into your hair, fingers pressed against your neck, “don’t you?”

And your lips find his first, lips brushing at first — and he’s so soft, his breath catching when you do, your fingers against his cheeks, and he’s pulling you back in again — it’s gravity. Again and again your lips meet, less hesitant with each kiss and each touch.

This shouldn’t be happening. You needed to stop it — Suguru had always teased that his best friend had a thing for you — hell, Satoru had all but admitted it with teasing words and promises to steal you away if Suguru ever had fumbled your relationship. But you knew he’d never would do it.

Or you thought he never would do it.

His hands slide down your body, pulling your hips closer to his, “tell me stop, if you want me to,” he murmurs, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt, “I want—”

And you’re kissing him again, pulling him along your living room to your bedroom, “I don’t want to stop,” you breathe, you want something else, you want Suguru’s touch cleansed from your body, you want something more — you want to be wanted.

It had been so long since you had been wanted. The last few months with Suguru felt like an exercise in futility. You barely saw him, much less touched him — mission after mission, and excuse after excuse, piled onto the pyre waiting to burn your love for him alive. How long had it been since you had even kissed him? Each time you tried would end in him pulling away, shaking his head and telling you he was tired.

And he was. He was tired — tired of his work, tired of jujutsu society, and tired of you.

But he didn’t have the courtesy to let you know.

But Satoru…

His fingers are quick to get you naked, deftly pulling your t-shirt over your head, as your fingers tug his jacket off with the same eagerness, “Eager, are we?” he murmurs, half hearted teasing, a ghost of a smile on his lips as you pout, “don’t worry, I am too, baby,” as your fingers tug his sunglasses off, and place them on your nightstand.

You roll your eyes, “Satoru—” and he’s swallowing your retort with his lips — and you can’t help but compare them in your mind, he was so much more aggressive than Suguru was. Suguru’s hands slid over your hips and thighs as if he had all the time in the world, while Satoru’s clung to you desperately, as if you’d dissipate under his fingertips, “should we be doing this? Suguru—“

“Cheated. Murdered. Left us,” And his lips slide from his lips to your jaw, before his teeth graze right under your jaw, drawing a gasp from your lips.

And his lips curl, “Such a pretty noise, just f’me,” and he’s biting and sucking, surely leaving a lovely mark against your skin, his tongue tracing over the mark, “did you make noises like that for Suguru?”

“Satoru—” and his fingers are tugging at your bra, teasing your erect nipples as he’s only tugging the garment down, “fuck—” and his lips kiss your tit, while he’s rolling the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, “please,”

“Did you beg him like that too?” his fingers pull at the waistband of your shorts, teasing the skin underneath, “no wonder Suguru kept you for yourself,” he’s tugging off your shorts down your legs.

“Can we not talk about him if we aren’t gonna talk—” and his lips find yours again, teeth baring down on your bottom lip, “Satoru—” you gasp as he pulls at your lip, thumb sliding over the kiss bitten flesh.

“How can we not?” he murmurs, as his hands slide up your thighs to squeeze your ass, “is this the bed he fucked you on? Is this the way he touched you?” and he’s parting your thighs, large palms holding you apart, as his half lidded eyes linger on the wet patch on your panties, “is this how wet you got for him? Am I special?”

“Oh, fuck off—” and your words fall away as his finger presses against the wet patch, thumb against your puffy clit while his fingers tease your aching cunt.

“What was that, baby?” and he’s grinning, and he spares you, dragging your ruined underwear down, and he’s leaning down to your sopping pussy only to press teasing kisses to your inner thigh, before his lips press against your clit, “so fucking wet,” and he inhales, a languid moan leaving his lips, “if you taste as good as you smell, I’ll be cumming in my pants before I even fuck your pretty cunt,”

And his fingers sink into you — two at once, making your lips part, teasing your pussy open, the lewd sounds fill your ears as your slick squelches against his fingers, “Hear that? Such a greedy cunt, swallowing my fingers up even when I try to pull out,” and he’s pumping faster now, fingers curling against your walls, making you moan far too loudly, “moaning like that, and I’ve barely even started,” he hums, before his breath is warming your slick cunt as a warning as his tongue begins to lap at your clit, again and again.

“Fuck, Toru, need more—” His other hand is only grabbing you, pulling you impossibly closer as a third finger finds its way into you, and your hips move against his touch, begging him to fuck you in earnest. But he’s unrelenting. You can hear him swallow around you, every flutter of your cunt made just for him, as he nearly growls against you, vibrations only making you nearly grind yourself against his fingers and mouth. His tongue circles your clit, toying with it, before his lips close over it and suck, nearly making you scream, “I’m cummin—”

And his fingers finally find the spot they had been looking for, again and again with deft precision, as your walls clench around his fingers, as you gasp, arching your back, as you cum, and he’s licking your essence up eagerly.

Grinning as he pulls his fingers from you, licking your cum from his digits, before lapping at your leaking cunt, making you twitch around nothing, “Fuck, needy pussy practically begging me to fill you, huh? Hehehe,” he’s looking up at you all fucked out, your thighs twitching, eyes blown out — meanwhile his lips, chin, and nose were painted in your essence, the most beautiful work of art you’d ever seen, “didn’t realize how much I wanted this,” and he’s licking up your cum off his face, and wiping the rest on the back of his hand, and he’s climbing back over you, dragging his clothed bulge over your still sensitive cunt, making you both groan, “and I guess neither did you,”

You’re still looking up at him with lust filled eyes, as your fingers find his cheeks, “aren’t you wearing far too many clothes still?” and he’s smiling, “wanna help me out with that, sweetheart?” he asks, as his fingers press your boobs together, thumbs flicking against the abused nipples, cock twitching against your cunt as if he was imaging what it would feel like to blow his load right between them, his warm cum all over your face—

And you’re flipping him in a moment, pinned underneath you, as your fingers undo each button of his now definitely creased white button up, damp with your cum, as your palms drag over the exposed skin of his chest and abs, “Can’t wait to fuck myself on this later,” you murmur, leaning down to drag your tongue up his stomach, making him gasp deliciously, before your fingers busy themselves with undoing his belt, the click of the buckle only making you ache more, as you undo the zipper of his pants, tugging his boxers along with them to bunch at his feet hanging off your too small of a bed, and you can’t stop the gasp that leaves your lips.

He’s so fucking big.

Suguru was big, so fucking big that the first time he fucked you, he couldn’t even fit in your tight cunt. He had to give you multiple orgasms, prep you right, stretching you out with his fingers and tongue, and even a dildo, until you could fit himself with lube. And Satoru definitely wasn’t as thick as Suguru, but he made up for that in length — fuck, how deep would that reach? A pretty curve at the end with lovely veins running up that made your mouth water, white pubes dotting along it that were shaved, but grown out — likely from being away on missions for so long.

“You can take a picture, it’d last longer,” and your eyes snap up to the smirk on his lips, “although I tend to last very long,” he’s shrugging out of his shirt and kicking off his pants, before he’s pinning you under him again, “and if you do, maybe I can take a picture of you, full of my cum, my cock fucking it back in — it’s only fair, right, pretty?” and you shiver, as his finally unclothed cock bumps against your cunt, “oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you? I’ll make it my screensaver, you’d like wouldn’t you, filthy girl?”

And your fingers wrap around his cock, finally making him shut up with a hiss, “Gonna talk all night, or you gonna fuck me, Toru?” and he barks out a laugh, but it's consumed by a moan as you stroke him, leaning up to kiss along his jaw, “you gonna fuck the same hole your best friend did? Gonna cum there too?” and he’s thickly swallowing, your words leaving the great Satoru Gojo speechless, “what? If you brought up Suguru, so can I, right? Only fair,” you echo his words, and you’re squeezing around the base of him, “well, are you—”

And he’s pulling your hand away, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock, dragging his pre-cum over your cunt, letting your cum mix together, “Fuuuuuck, baby, so fuckin’ gorgeous,” and he’s manhandling you, grabbing your thighs, and hooking your ankles over his shoulders, “gonna fuck you now, sweetheart, any complaints?”

He grins at the way you shake your head eagerly, hips nearly grinding against his cock, and his tip sinks past your walls, “so tight, baby, did Suguru not fuck you right?” You can’t manage a reply, as you grasp at his shoulders, pulling him closer, as he sinks into you inch by inch, his brow furrowed beautifully as he finally bottoms out with a groan, “s’good f’me, so perfect—“ your walls flutter around him, your slick soaking him, and he’s tilting your head by your chin to make you look at where he’s sunk into you.

And he’s pulling out before sinking back in, and you’re gasping and squeezing him — how was he possibly deeper? “Fuck, baby, your cunt is trying snap me half,” and his hips are slapping against you as he fucks you in earnest, the squeaks of your mattress as he thrusts in and out and the lewd squelch of your pussy as it wraps around every inch and vein of his cock, “that’s it, that’s it, take me, take every inch of me,” and his balls are slapping against your ass, “did you take Suguru this well? Did you ever take anyone this well?”

And you’re a mess of just moans as he’s fucking you again and again, as he cups your chin, “I didn’t hear an answer or did the I fuck the words out of you too, baby?” He’s kissing you again, swallowing your noises with lips curled, before he’s pulling away with a groan, “can’t hear myself think with how loud you are — so fucking wet,”

“S’close, Toru, I-“ and he’s grunting, nodding, as he watches you, his cerulean eyes stare at you, right as his tip brushes your cervix—

“Cum for me baby, let me watch you cum around my cock,” and his fingers reach down between the two of you and rub against your clit, making your eyes roll back, as you fall apart around him.

Your walls are fluttering around him as you cum, moaning his name on your lips, as he pistons in and out again and again, thrusts stuttering as your walls squeeze him tight, “baby, I’m gonna cum, where do you want me—“

“Inside—please need to feel you cum—“ and you’re moaning, pulling him impossibly closer, and he’s sinks deep into you, and cums. He’s spurting his thick load into you, fucking it into you deeper and deeper, until you’re so full of him and his cum, you can barely feel anything else.

He’s slipping your legs off his shoulders, before collapsing on top of you, sinking into your arms. He’s pulling out, watching your mixed releases slip out of you with a groan, “how are you so fucking perfect?” He’s finding your lips in a kiss, before his nose nuzzles your neck, as your highs wear down.

Your fingers run through his white strands, “shouldn’t I be asking you that?” And he laughs, settling on your chest. And for a moment you forget — you forget the nights you spent with Suguru in this bed, the nights spent in tangled sheets with whispered nothings, with his arms around you, just like Satoru’s were now.

But only for a moment.

And as Satoru’s soft snores filled your ears, the only thing on your mind was the one person who you wanted in your bed right now.

~~~

“Still asleep?” your fingers run through his hair, “such a lazy-bones on your days off,” and your lips trace over his jaw, making his lips curl despite the draw of sleep, “gonna leave me hanging after last night?”

And your lips find his, sliding over his with practiced ease, the same way you breathed — it was natural, as his fingers find purchase in your hair, sliding back to your neck. Again and again, your lips cannot part his, if you can’t breathe without him — cannot exist without his touch.

And when you do part, he’s smiling, black fringe falling in his eyes, “So needy in the morning,” Suguru’s voice is gravelly with sleep, even as your fingers card through his black locks, “when did you become such an early riser? Usually I’m the one dragging you out of this bed kicking and screaming,”

Usually, but he’s the one who's struggling out of bed these days. He’s struggling to even function — lifting his arms in the shower feels like too much effort — and what’s the point? Would anything change if he left his bed today? Couldn’t he escape into the recesses of his unconscious for the rest of the day?

But you’re here — and you’re leaning over him, your lips curled in that smile that damned him into submission, because what could he do except submit to you — “who said anything about leaving this bed?”

But he needed to leave this bed, he thought, as your lips found his again — and how did you always taste so sweet? — he needed to leave these warm covers and inviting embrace. Because he couldn’t stay here.

He couldn’t stay with you.

But then your lips find his, and he can’t bring himself to stop, not when you’re climbing on top of him, straddling his waist, his growing bulge tenting in his boxers. He can he stop when you’re murmuring his name like that, eager fingers tugging the damp fabric down, letting his dick slap against his stomach — a bead of precum that you lean down, your tongue darting out to taste.

And he hisses, as your fingers wrap around him, teasing the head of his cock, thumb dragging over the slit, “sweetheart—“ he's warning — but you know he’s all bark and no bite — but he would be biting you later surely, with the way you toy with him — both his cock and his feelings.

Your mere presence in his bed has him questioning himself — questioning how necessary is it to end things? Why does he need to? He had this future planned — a certain way things were to go — he was the strongest, him and Satoru, he was going to work and settle down later, marry you, maybe even a kid or two — but now — the plans had changed.

He had changed.

Satoru was the strongest. Not him. And work as a sorcerer was killing him now, as you and Satoru were sent farther and further away, and Shoko had resigned herself to medicine — what did he have? Another year of this hell — he didn’t even know if he could last another day of swallowing curses. It had become second nature to him, but without a purpose, without a reason without any principles to guide him — it became worse than torture.

It was his personal hell.

And yet, as your soft lips closed around his leaking tip, fingers playing with his balls, as you sank your mouth onto him, drawing soft moans from his lips — he didn’t wanna give it up. How could he, when you were here? He could burn his life down to ash, watch what he worked for, what he had thought was his purpose fall to pieces in front of him — let himself fall to pieces — but that would mean burning you along with it.

And could he bear that?

Your tongue flicked against his length, tracing his veins as his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag around him, as his fingers settled in your hair, “fuck, sweetheart, s’fucking good f’me,” and his hips shallowly thrust into your mouth, “take me so well, practically swallowing my dick,” and you swallow around him, pulling a moan from his mouth, his eyes flitting down to see the telltale press of your thighs together, “such a filthy girl, look at you, probably dripping wet from sucking me off,”

And he’s tugging you off, strings of spit and his precum connecting your lips to his aching dick, “Sugu—“ your lips are red and puffy, parted still, with cum and spit slipping down the corner of your mouth.

And he’s pulling you on top of him, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs, hissing as the damp fabric of your far too thin sleep shorts press against his still sensitive cock, “don’t even have to get you ready baby, already all prepped from just tasting me, aren’t you?”

He shouldn’t be doing this — he told himself today would be the day, he promised himself he’d stop pretending everything was fine. But when you felt so perfect on him — soft skin and soft sighs, your little gasp you gave when his fingers slide his t-shirt — the one full of small holes you had stolen from him when you first spent the night that you refused to throw out — up and over your head, exposing your chest to him — how can he stop?

“Suguru, please,” you whimpered as his mouth took one nipple in his mouth, warm tongue flicking against the pebbled flesh before his teeth graze it, pulling another hallowed moan from your lips, “need you,”

“Do you?” He hums, half teasing, half truthful — did you need him? Would you fall apart when he left? Would he spend nights wondering if you were anxious without him? Spend days wondering how you were filling them without him?

And you pause, strange look on your face, as your eyes scan over his features, palm sliding over his face, “of course I do,” passion falls away for a moment replaced with a different intimacy, “you’re my best friend,” and your lips slide over his as you lean down, “I’ll always need you, even when we’re both dust — I hope we spend it bathed in sunshine together,”

But would you? His eyes can’t meet yours — because he can’t see the sun in his future, only a dark descent into madness — a future spent alone. Because even with your smile at the end of his days, he couldn’t imagine spending another minute doing thankless work for miserable, ignorant, weak monkeys, only to do it all over again the next day. And his silence has you questioning him, but it’s like water fills his lungs, paralyzed by his own thoughts, and even as concern fills your eyes, he still can’t find anything to say.

So you say it instead.

“C’me here,” you murmur, and your hands slide over him, “I love you,” you kiss him all over his face — his nose, his cheeks, his chin, his forehead, before your lips hover before his, “can I—“

And he’s flipping you under him, pressing bruising kisses to your lips, as his fingers snake between your thighs, “you don’t need to ask— you never need to ask me,” he whispers in the dark, but even so, he knows — it can’t stay like this — even as he pulls your shorts down to bunch around your ankles and presses his leaking tip your messy folds — it can’t — because you were meant to live in the sunshine.

And he hilts himself in you fully, inch by inch, until he’s groaning your name in a grunt — and he belonged in the dark silence.

He knows this would be the last time. It would be. Because he had to — he couldn’t wait. It was only a waiting game until he was called to another mission, time until he dragged himself lower — until he couldn’t blame the heat for his dark bags under his eyes and the lost weight.

He had to.

And as he fucks you to your orgasm, instead of your lips moaning his name, your hard eyes meet his, lips parting, “I hate you—“ and his hands curl around your neck, “I hate lying traitors,” you choke out as his fingers squeeze your neck.

SNAP.

And he jolts awake, as whispers fill his ears, as his heartbeat slows, “Master Geto?” His eyes flicker over, spotting Nanako and Mimiko trying to snap a chocolate bar in half, “can you help us?”

A dream. It was a dream.

And he’s helping the girls, as they curl up beside him, “are you okay, Master Geto? You were talking in your sleep,” Nanako asks, ever curious, “you looked like you were having a bad dream,”

“I was,” he admits, eyes fixed downward, trying to force the image of you choking below him from his eyes, “about someone I used to know,”

“Who?” Mimiko pipes up, nibbling on her chocolate, and he sighs, running his hands through their hair, a bittersweet smile on his lips — he could still feel your lips against his, the smell of your sweat, the feel of your body.

“Someone I loved — who I left, but I guess…I guess I miss them,” why was he spilling his guts to these two little girls? Ones who had been through far too much to hear about his petty problems.

“Then why don’t you talk to them?” Nanako asks, “maybe you can tell them to live with us,” and his lips curl sadly.

“I don’t think she would want to talk to me,” and why would you? After what he had said, what he had done, and what he was going to do.

“You can try,” Mimiko says, she bites a chunk out of her share of the chocolate bar, “you tried to save us and you did — maybe you can do the same thing — save her,”

And he considers it — maybe he didn’t have to drag you down. Maybe he wouldn’t be — maybe he’d be saving you. Saving you from a system that would only land you in a pile of bodies — just like Riko, just like Haibara.

Maybe — maybe he could. Maybe he could be enough for you. Enough for you to leave. Enough for you to stay. He could have his family — and have you too.

~~~~

He still had your key.

You hadn’t bothered to ask for it back — maybe you had forgotten, maybe you didn’t care — but a part of him hoped it was for another reason, maybe you wanted him to come back.

Even so, he didn’t know if it would still work — maybe you had the foresight to change the locks — but it does, sliding into the lock with ease, as the tumblers slide into place and he’s turning the knob into a silent apartment. And it plants a stubborn seed of hope in his chest, maybe it wasn’t so crazy — aside from breaking and entering — maybe he would find his way back to you.

You’re likely on your walk this morning still — the same way you started the weekend, a walk and visit to your local coffee shop where you got the same order each time, and then you’d spend an hour browsing the shops for something to read or make. He scans the apartment — he knows you’re on vacation this week, from what Shoko had told him last, before he had spoken to Satoru. You hadn’t heard of his news, but you probably did now — if Shoko hadn’t told you, he knew Satoru would have.

And he wonders how that conversation went. Wondered how angry you were. Wondered how much you must hate him now — maybe you even wanted to kill him. But the logical side of him knew you didn’t have the skill to do so — you were a grade 1 — a cut above the rest, but still, your abilities weren’t enough, but emotionally…he may let you kill him, if only to spare him the agony of having to kill you — but he knew it’d kill you just the same.

He can see his days spent here before — you had finally moved off campus, convincing Yaga to let you have your own place early before graduation. You two had celebrated being free of dorm rooms with far too little space and too thin walls (too many times Satoru had spoiled the moment by either banging on the wall, blasting polka music, or just with smug remarks about yours and Suguru’s lack of sleep). He sees himself sitting at the kitchen counter, your stools pressed close as the two of you read the paper together, or laughed about something Shoko had texted or something stupid Gojo had done to piss off Yaga over burnt toast you had only burned while he’s pressing his lips to you. Or evenings spent on the couch cuddling while a bad movie he had picked played, but he’s more preoccupied with teasing you with brushes of his fingers against your bare skin or burying his face in the crook of your neck. And nights spent in your bed, entangled together, his arms around you listening to you breathe, skin dappled in the moonlight that streamed in from the window, wondering how did you ever exist at the same time as him?

And then the front door swings open, as he steps out from the bedroom, and he hears a bag slip falling to the floor, groceries spilling out, and his gaze finds yours, “What—”

“I came to see you,” he moves closer, and you step back — and he’s stopping, he doesn’t see fear in your eyes, he sees hurt — and he almost thinks maybe fear would pain him less.

“Well, I’m here,” you cross your arms, unable to quite meet his eyes, “anything else?”

“Sweetheart—”

“You don’t get to call me that, Geto,” your words were sharp as a knife, and you were trying to cut — and you did, deep. He bites back the sting, as he stares at you — your hair was longer, your eyes had bags, but your lips were twisted with pain, when normally it’d be quirked in a smile pressed against his cheek, “what do you want? Unless I should just save myself the trouble and call Satoru or Yaga?”

“I came to get you,” he steps forward slowly, and you don’t move away this time, “let’s be together. I—”

“You murdered people, you murdered your parents, you left Jujutsu Tech, you broke my heart, you broke Satoru’s and Shoko’s — and you want me to come with you?” you shake your head, barking out a harsh laugh, “did you lose your grip on reality between all the damage you’ve caused?

“If you let me explain—”

“And why should I let you? Your silence these past months was enough for me, you not fighting for us was enough for me, you spiraling without letting me help you was enough for me,” and your voice breaks, “and you cheating on me was enough for me, enough for me to know it’s over.”

“It’s not over, it’s not. I tried to force it to be over. I lied to you, I lied to myself, and said it was over, but it’s not, it’s not,” and he’s so close in a moment, and he can smell the familiar scent of your perfume mixed with your sweat — lavender, hibiscus, and something all the more sweeter, “not when it’s us,” and his fingers brush against your cheek, “please—”

“Don’t do this,” you’re shaking your head, again and again, “don’t, don’t, don’t, please—”

“How can I not? How can I not when I was foolish enough not to the first time, pretty?” he’s murmuring, “I love you, I do, I never stopped,”

“No, you don’t—”

“I do, I do, I know I said a lot of things, I need you to know, I need to explain, if you just let me—” and his fingers are sliding along your jaw, and finds uneven skin, and his eyes lingers, as his fingers tilt your chin up to find a fresh hickey left underneath.

“I—” and he’s drawing you close, so close, his dark eyes narrowed to slits, a deadly silence that makes your skin prickle under his gaze, until he’s warming your lips with his breath.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” but the telltale sign of your breath catching, your chest heaving against his, your lips parted as your eyes can’t pull away from him, his grip is slack enough for you to pull away — but you don’t.

You can’t.

And his lips hover before yours, warming your own with his heated breath, “Kiss me, baby,” and your cheeks warm, butterflies erupting in your stomach, heat blooming wherever his other hand sneaks, dragging over your sides.

“Why should I?” you’re grumbling, but you’re staying right where he has you — right in his arms, and you don’t know why, “you want to kiss me so bad so you do it,”

And he clicks his tongue, fingers sliding behind your head, weaving into your hair and against the soft skin of the back of your neck, tugging you closer, “you kissed someone else with those lips, tasted them, maybe a day or two — were you this bratty with them?”

“Oh fuck off, Suguru, you’re one to talk—“ and his lips swallow your bitter words, tasting them on your tongue, as he parts your lips with a rough squeeze of your hips. And his lips only quirk when your moan rumbles against him, his calloused palms sliding between your thighs.

“You open your legs this easy for them?” he says when he’s pulling away from your mouth, thumb dragging over your swollen spit soaked lips, “how’s that fair? I’m your first, baby, and I’ll always be your favorite—“

And any retort is lost as his teeth drag over your jaw, lips closing right over the hickey he had hated so much, normally calm eyes filled with dark contempt, and he’s biting down, pinching your already bruised skin between his teeth, sucking and soothing with his tongue, “Mine, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You nod wordlessly, and his fingers slide forward, wrapping around the front of your neck, thumbing the hollow of your throat, “Use your words,” and there was something darker — something he had let you have glimpses of in moments of missions, of arguments, even in bed — but it wasn’t a glimpse now — it was the whole goddamn picture above you.

“I’m yours, Suguru,” you manage, words strangled by a moan as his lithe fingers tug at the waistband of your panties, making them rub against your drenched cunt, “please—”

“So pliant now, aren’t you?” he hums, as he pulls harder, making the wet fabric rub against your aching clit, “maybe I should make you cum this way, don’t know if you deserve my fingers or my mouth yet,”

You’re a mess — mind swimming in the need for pleasure, why did it always feel so right with him? So perfect. It shouldn’t be. He cheated on you. He slaughtered humans. He left you. He left you without telling you anything of what was plaguing him, until it was too late.

It was too late. He was too late.

So why were you letting his hands tear your panties apart as he fucked you with them?

Because — your fingers reach for his cheeks, leaning up to kiss him, again and again, as your lips parted and met — it was Suguru.

It was always Suguru.

“Please, Suguru, I need you, need more—ngh—” and the fabric of your panties snaps under his fingers, as he’s ripped them off, pocketing them without another word.

“Did you let him touch you?” he’s kissing down your body, wet kisses, his lips lingering at your pebbled nipples, sucking one, while squeezing the other between his thumb and forefinger, before he switches, kissing down your stomach — tongue teasing your belly button — before he’s finally settling between your thighs, his fringe unrulier than ever, strands of his long hair slipping from his bun, “Answer me, sweetheart,” he orders, as he presses mean fingers to part your thighs for him, surely leaving bruises with how hard he’s holding your soft flesh.

“I did,” you can’t manage the words to tell him who — how can you tell him his best friend fucked you? That you let Satoru fuck you the night you found out he left. It was one thing for him to cheat with a random person, it’s another for you to go and sleep with his best friend, “Suguru, please—”

“Mouth or fingers?” and you swear, despite them not speaking, they still share the same dumbass brain cell—

“What the fuck does it matte—” and your words are cut off by Suguru slipping in two fingers at once into your leaking cunt, fucking you meanly as he watched your mouth fall open, head tilted back as your hips jerked against him, desperate for more. His fingers curled as they fucked your hole open with rapid thrusts, the squelch of your cunt going straight to your head and straight to his already hard cock.

“It fucking matters because this is my pussy, isn’t it, baby? I fucked it first, I fucked it best, and I need to know what others did while I was gone, don’t I?” and a third joins the other two, pulling another moan from your lips,“but if you won’t tell me, I’ll just use both, fuck you with all five fingers and tongue if that’s what you want to do,”

“Sugu—” you’re already so fuckin’ close, your walls shuddering around his cock, “I’m—“ and he stops moving, smiling down at your open mouth twisting in a scowl, “fuck—“

“That’s what we’re trying to do, baby, but I’m not gonna let you cum that easy,” he coos, his curled lips leaning down to lap at your cunt, warm tongue dragging up your clit, before sucking lightly, making you squirm, “tell me you want me,”

“Your fucking ego—“ and he’s plunging three fingers into your messy entrance, making you gasp — god, you hated how good he felt — his fingers bullying your insides with practiced ease, “Sugu— please—“ as his tongue teases your clit, flicking it, before his teeth nibble at it. You’re squirming in earnest now, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers and tongue.

He laughs, pulling his mouth from your cunt, lips glossy with your pre-cum,“How quick you’re going from cussing me out to begging me to cum,” you don’t care anymore — you need to cum, “tell me what you want, Princess,”

“Need to cum, please, please, Sugu—ah—“ and he’s sinking one more finger in you, before his lips close around your clit and suck, hard. Your back arches as something in you snaps, as the squelching and slurping of his fingers and sucking send you over the edge. You flood his mouth and fingers with your cum, squirting all over him, as he eats you out and fucks you through your orgasm, groaning as you clench around his tongue and fingers. Your thighs shake and quiver in his grip, fingers holding you still in place, as he keeps overstimulating you, “too much, can’t—“ you cry out, shaking your head, but he’s not relenting until you feel something build in again — more and more, until his fingers find that one spot in you that has you silently screaming as you cum again, even harder than the first. You’re soaked — soaked the sheets through, chest rising and falling as the pleasure ebbs away, tears slipping down your cheeks, folds fluttering as he pulls his fingers out.

His breath warms your dripping cunt, lips glossy and eyes dark, groaning as he watches your cum slip from inside you, as he looks up at you with a dark, half lidded gaze, “So fucking good for me, even hotter when you cry,” he’s licking his lips clean of your cum, before he’s pressing the pads of his fingers into your open mouth, “clean them f’me, baby,” and your tongue swirls around him obediently without question, pretty eyes glassy with tears making his rock hard cock twitch in his pants, “good girl,”

And he’s pulling his fingers from your mouth, before leaning up and pulling off his black sweater, the click of his belt as he kicks off his pants, your eyes glued to his thick cock — he was thicker than Satoru, so pretty too — black pubes groomed, nearly pressed against his stomach.

“Always so desperate for my cock, aren’t you, Princess? I’ll let you clean your cum off of it after, but I have to have you first — got to reclaim what’s mine,” and he’s dragging his cock against your clit.

You gasp, twitching against him, but more than the pleasure, the guilt creeps in — flashes of Satoru from the night before with hands over your hips and thighs, and you had kept quiet about your life from the time you spent away. You had done your best to stay away from Suguru, even though you knew he hadn’t exactly done the same — asking Shoko questions, for pictures, for any scrap of you.

And you couldn’t lie — not about this.

“Suguru,” and he’s pausing, eyes meeting yours with a flash of concern, but the words tumble out with warning, just the way he had done with you, “I slept with Satoru,”

And he’s silent — emotions roll in and out on his face — confusion, hurt, anger, and acceptance — they all fall away as he’s only staring off to the side, unable to even look at you. Words fall away, stopped in your mouth after the bitter truth that’s left it and you wonder — is it over now? Seconds feel like hours — your fingers curl into the sheets, looking for something to hang onto, to ground you. Why did he have to start this? You were fine with the burnt ashes of the love he had scorched over, but now he started a fire, and you didn’t want to put it out. You didn’t want to go out.

You didn’t want him to go.

But he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes finally find yours for a moment, before he’s kissing you again and again and again, bruising kisses that slaughter any sense of logic and words from you — but his message is clear, he doesn’t wanna talk, especially as his hand reaches does to brush his aching tip against you, smearing his pre-cum over the length of you.

And he’s sinking into you, and somehow you’re still so tight around him, “Fuck,” he hisses, the first word that leaves his mouth, “did Satoru not fuck you right last night?” and your lips part as he thrusts harshly and smoothly, bottoming out with one single movement, “still as tight as when I took your virginity, aren’t you, baby?”

“Suguru,” you’re so full, he’s so thick, and these last few weeks without him almost had your cunt forgetting what he felt like filling you — his hands gripping your thighs to press them back against your stomach, as he pulls back only to slam back in, making you head loll back, “s’good, s’full,” it’s all you can feel, all you can think about, was him, just him.

“That’s right, I’m the only one who can fill you like this, the only one that makes you feel this good,” the sounds of his hips slapping against you send more heat flooding downward, as he grunts, watching himself piston in and out of you, “take me s’well, my good girl, mine,” he growls, “squeezing me so tight, never want me to leave this sweet cunt, do you?” your thighs shake as he presses them back, balls slapping against your ass, as he only sinks deeper and deeper, “could fuck you all night, don’t hide that face from me,” he’s forcing you to hold his gaze as he fucks you — your glassy eyes blown out with pleasure, your kiss ruined lips parted for him as you panted and moaned, forehead glossy with sweat, “wanna watch you cum around my cock, wanna see you scream my name, pretty baby,”

His hand slides behind your ass, grabbing a fistful and finding a better angle before slamming back in, and with his filthy words, its enough to have you cumming with his name on your lips, “Sugu—fuck, Suguru!” your voice goes to a pitch you didn’t know it could reach. Toes curling as your gummy walls swallow him in, your pretty mouth forms an ‘o’ and he grunts, imagining those lips around his cock, his thrusts growing sloppy as he fucked you through your orgasm. His dick was soaked, his precum mixing with your cum.

But he wasn’t done yet.

He’s slapping your clit, making you jolt, as he’s still pressed inside you, “Sloppy fucking girl, I know you have one more for me,” and you’re so fucked out, he’s guiding your legs around his lower back and hips, making you gasp, “gonna cum in this perfect princess cunt,”

“Sugu, can’t, It’s too muc—” you nearly sob, but he’s already fucking you, thrusting again and again. And it doesn’t take long for another orgasm to build, already far too sensitive from your last. It’s too much — the feeling of his hips slapping against yours, the feeling of his cock twitching inside your walls, the small moans that your tight cunt pull from his lips, and when his tip brushes against that perfect spot, as his thumb bears down on your clit — it’s too much. You see stars as you cum again, even harder, the loud squelch as he fucks you still pulls a deep groan from his lips.

“Gonna cum, baby, gonna make a mess of you, fill you up,” he’s grunting, and you’re only nodding and moaning “yes,” still fucked out from your orgasms, but it’s enough for him notch himself deep in you and cum, painting your womb white, as he spurts his seed inside you.

And his hips stutter, as he eases your legs down, still shaking and quivering from being fucked, and he rubs them, as you pant, his fingers then reaching to wipe your tears, as he eases himself out, groaning as he watched your mixed cums leak out of your cunt.

“Suguru,” you murmur, and he’s leaning over you, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, and your hand reaches for him, cupping his cheek, “I love you,” and you do — you always loved him, you always would — there was never anyone else. Only him. But the words can’t find their way out of your mouth, sleep calling for your attendance, as your fingers run through his hair, pulling his hair tie off, and carding their way through his long hair, “I love the long hair,” you hum, eyes fluttering and heavy with sleep.

“Do you?” His voice is gravelly, as he leans down, his lips finding your own for moment, before reaching for a bath towel you had slung over your metal bed frame, as he cleans you up, “how much?”

“Too much, Sugu,” he chuckles softly, as he finishes cleaning you and himself up, pressing soft kisses to your thighs, as he moves to get up and put the towel in the hamper — your hand catches him by the wrist, “Don’t go,”

And his gaze softens, as he shakes his head, “I’m just taking this to the hamper, I’ll come back to bed,” and your lips form an unfairly cute pout, but you relent, letting him walk away to the bathroom to dispose of the towel, and when he comes back, you’re already asleep, curled up.

He stands in the doorway, watching your chest rise and fall — and he’s walking over, pulling your comforter over your body, as he holds it open for himself, pausing, only to let it fall and settle on your side.

He couldn’t ask you to come with him. Couldn’t whisper those words in the night, because you couldn’t save him from the dark — not you, not Satoru, not a single person. Because he wasn’t cut out to live in this world with a smile on his face — and you always deserved to have one on your lips. And Satoru could do that for you. Not him.

It was never him. He was never good enough — his fingers trace over your cheek, pressing another kiss to your forehead — not for the jujutsu world, and not for you.

And he turns to leave, sparing a single glance at you — but he’d make a place for him. And maybe for you — make a world that’s safe for them to live in. Where he didn’t have to watch you join the other bodies piled up around him.

He’s pulling the door shut to your apartment softly, his key left on the table.

It was over.

~~~

“You’re late again, as usual,” Suguru smiles, slumping down against a wall, “Satoru,”

“The ones in Kyoto, they were under your command?”

“Yes, they all were,” he sways, holding his shoulder, he didn’t have much time left — he couldn’t feel anything, even as he held his wound, he felt nothing — no pain, no anger, no hatred, “no matter what anyone says, I hate those monkeys,” and his thumb brushes lightly over his shoulder, “but I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High School,”

“Did you not? Could’ve surprised me,” and his head turns slowly behind Satoru, and he sees you — sees you for the first time in a decade. Even at his visit to Jujutsu High, you weren’t around — away on a mission, just as he had intended.

Satoru only sighs, sparing you a glance, “I told you not to come here—”

“And I told you that I needed to see him,” you brush past Satoru, kneeling by Suguru — and he can’t take his eyes off of you — he had seen pictures, ones he had his twins take (not wanting those money grubbing monkeys to have even an image of you), and he saw you had done quite well for yourself after he had left. A teacher, just like Satoru — trying to foster a new generation of sorcerers — he was right, you were just like him, weren’t you? And he watches as your brow furrows, scanning over his injuries, gears grinding, but he has to halt them right then and there.

“There’s no saving me now, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, “but you know that already, don’t you?” he takes an unsteady breath, leaning back against the wall, his eyes falling over you again, “still so beautiful — how’s that possible?”

“Not beautiful to stick around for though, am I?” your words aren’t laced with bitterness so much as it’s a question, a question of why he had left you. Why did he never had come back.

“But beautiful enough to always stay faithful to,” his words are soft, “I don’t have many regrets, not any at all truly in retrospect, but I did lie to you about cheating—”

“I know,” your hand uses your sleeve to clean some of the blood on his face, scarlet on your palm, “I realized once I thought about it — and I’ve had plenty of time to think about you, Suguru,” your fingers trace his jawline softly, “because thoughts were all you left me with,”

“Not all I left you with,” his eyes slide back to Satoru and back to you, lips curled in a smile, “you two were always more better suited than I ever was to you, princess,”

“Suguru—” Satoru starts, but Suguru is shaking his head.

“It’s rude to interrupt a person’s last words, Satoru,” he clicks his tongue, and his lips curl as he finds your gaze again, your eyes glassy, “don’t look like that, sweetheart,”

“Suguru, why did you have to leave?” and he’s shaking his head slowly, resting it against the wall behind him.

“Because I didn’t belong there — I couldn’t live in this world with a real smile on my face,” and his hand reaches for you, but stops, falling back to his shoulder, and tears slip down your cheeks, “but with you, I came close,” he murmurs, and he knew it was time, “Satoru,” and that’s all he had to say to have Satoru start to pull you away.

“No, no, please—” you’re shaking your head, trying to push past Satoru, but you slump in his arms, “I love you, Suguru, I always will,”

And he gives a small chuckle, lips curled in that smile that always damned you — “At least curse me at the end,”

But you never could, as you step away, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear the distant splatter of blood. And you knew — you knew you would have stayed forever, stayed with him forever, if he only had told you not to go.

But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.

The two of you bury him, somewhere secluded, where no one would find him. The cold ground was hell to dig up, but the two of you managed somehow, each shovelful feeling like a funeral march with no end in sight. Neither of you could bear the thought of his body being poked and probed for its secrets, before being burned, turned to the ash and smoke, the very same he had left your lives in when he had torched it all to the ground. But even so, you couldn’t bear it — and as you look at the mound before you, you want to claw his body up — dig him up as if it would bring him back to life, pull whatever being or force out of the sky and make them give him back.

But you can’t — it’s over.

Satoru’s hand finds your shoulder, pulling you into a hug, burying your face in his chest, as he holds you tight to his chest. And he’s leading you away from Suguru, a single flower left over his grave, as the cold air freezes the tear stains left on your cheeks.

It’s over now. It was over now, right? Right?

And it was.

Until Shibuya.

a/n: this was supposed to be 3K, and ended up being over 10K. story of my life. this fic is thematically sponsored by 1989 (taylor's version), in particular, the vault tracks that helped me write this. you can literally spot lyric references almost throughout the entire thing

tag list: @ghostkonigkeegan141, @lightblueexorcist, @aemondseyesocket, @lemonpoppy-seed, @stran-dedforyou, @tiaraqueen123, @sun-daddy-yoriichi, @grooveandshit, @prettyabc, @kaskasi, @moranguitosz, @haunting-venus, @ninneko19, @psychicai, @d1rtv, @forest-fruits-jam, @katie91239, @dud3vil, @robynnikole151, @ivory-cove, @ohbi-the-way, @numbinyourchest, @dabisdolly, @kal0pssiaa, @glaceliy, @3atinguout, @iovesatoru, @imthebestbye-blog, @michelleeveline, @ichikanu, @ummcumfurtable, @collectionofdolls, @auraeum, @reesesnieces, @goldfishsmemory, @itshobiscussposts

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harrysfolklore · 23 days

Text

oscar piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON | oscar smau

Oscar Piastri was known as the introvert and reserved driver on the grid.

While other drivers basked in the spotlight and didn't shy away from sharing details about their personal life, Oscar often preferred to keep his privacy.

However, when it came to his girlfriend, it was a different story altogether.

Oscar was what people called "a total simp" when it came to his girlfriend, always bringing her up in interviews, promo videos and casual conversations, and fans couldn't miss the opportunity to make several compilation videos and tiktoks about it.

The most popular one was called "Oscar Piastri being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation" and the 15-minute long video was filled with moments that made fans both awe and laugh.

It started with the clip of the first time he publicly talked about her during a podcast interview, rumors about him not being single were spreading around but nothing was confirmed.

"I do have a girlfriend, yeah," Oscar said, a small smile playing on his face.

"You're not very public, aren't you?" the interviewer asked.

“We keep it to ourselves and try to be out of the spotlight and just live normal lives,” he replied, “We have been dating for over four years now, she has been there for me since the start of my career and I couldn't imagine my life without her. She's my biggest supporter and keeps me grounded.”

The next video showed Oscar and Lando sitting next to each other wearing their McLaren shirts, filming a game called "Green flag or Red flag."

"Picky eaters," the interviewer asked and Lando immediately waved the green flag.

"He's a very picky eater that's why," Oscar said, making Lando laugh, "But, what if they eat fish, cause you hate fish."

Lando dramatically raised the red flag, making everybody laugh again.

"You wouldn't date a pescatarian then," the interviewer said.

"No," Lando shook his head, "They shouldn't be here."

"My girlfriend's a pescatarian, actually," Oscar said, looking at his teammate with a raised eyebrow, "I'll pass that on to her.”

"Noooo mate!" Lando immediately shook his head, waving his hands in mock horror, "Don't tell her I said that, I don't want to be in trouble with your missus! She's a lovely girl."

"She is indeed, but I don't think she'll like you very much after this."

The next segment was from his "Day in the Life" video with Quad Lock, where Oscar gave fans a glimpse into his daily routine. In one particular clip, he was in the kitchen making breakfast.

"So, this is where the magic happens," Oscar said with a cheeky grin as he poured pancake batter onto a hot griddle, "My girlfriend loves pancakes, so I make them every Sunday. It's become sort of a tradition for us."

The camera then panned to a candid shot of his girlfriend, who was sitting at the kitchen island, sipping coffee and smiling fondly at Oscar. She blew him a kiss, which Oscar caught with a playful wink.

"There she is, sitting pretty while I play housewife."

The next clip in the compilation was from a press conference, where a journalist asked him how he manages to stay focused with such a demanding schedule.

"Having a supportive partner really helps," Oscar said earnestly, "She understands the pressures and the demands of the job. She’s my rock and makes everything a lot easier."

"Does it get hard for her when your schedule is too busy for your relationship?"

"My schedule is never too busy for my girlfriend, I always make sure to make time for her. That's why we've been going strong for four years now."

Another McLaren game with Lando was included, this time they were playing Finish the Lyric with Taylor Swift songs.

"Do you feel confident about this game, Oscar?" Lando asked his teammate.

"I do, actually," Oscar nodded confidently, "My girlfriend is a huge Taylor Swift fan so I know a lot of her songs."

"We should get your girl to come and play then," Lando teased.

"She'd probably beat us both, hands down. But I'm not giving up just yet." Oscar chuckled, shaking his head.

The compilation video then transitioned to a moment in the McLaren garage before the first quali of the Hungary Grand Prix. Oscar was off to the side, chatting with his girlfriend, who had joined him for the event.

They seemed to be in their own little bubble, Oscar's attention completely focused on her and his smile wide as he listened to her talk. The camera captured a sweet moment where he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about their relationship and fans absolutely melted at the interaction.

The next clip showed Oscar at a fan event in Australia, hundreds of fans gathered to meet the drivers and see them up close, Oscar was answering questions from the interviewers when he suddenly addressed one of the fans in the front row.

"I've got a girlfriend, thank you," he said into the microphone, making everyone laugh but look confused at the same time, "For everyone wondering, she just asked what my number was," the crowd laughed again even louder, "But I'm a happily taken man. You're nice but I'm not interested."

In that same event, he got asked what did he miss the most from the UK when he was back in Australia.

"My girlfriend," he immediately said, "Other than that the food is better here, the weather is better here. So my girlfriend, that's it."

The following video was also a fan interaction, this time it was a fan recorded video while he was signing stuff for those waiting for him as he arrived to the paddock for the Austin Grand Prix.

Oscar was signing autographs and taking pictures, when a fan handed him a photo of him and his girlfriend from a race weekend.

"Oh, this is a great picture," Oscar said, grinning as he looked at the photo. "This was taken at Silverstone, right? It was her first time at a race with me. She loved it."

"What's her favorite part about the races?" The fan smiled and asked.

"Probably the adrenaline and seeing me in action," Oscar chuckled, "But she also loves hanging out in the paddock. She gets along really well with everyone here."

The next clip showcased Oscar during a Twitch stream, where he was playing a racing simulator. His girlfriend walked into the room, and the chat exploded with excitement.

"Hey, love," Oscar greeted her, pausing the game.

"Am I interrupting you?" she softly asked.

"Nope, come here," he encouraged to come closer, "Everyone, this is my girlfriend," she waved at the camera, and Oscar wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into the frame. "She's the reason I'm still sane," he joked, earning a kiss on the cheek from her.

The video included one of everyone's favorite interactions between the couple, captured by McLaren's instagram team.

Oscar had just finished a quiali, earning a P2 position, the camera caught as he reunited with his girlfriend who threw her arms around his neck as soon as she saw him.

"Hiii," he shyly said, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.

"You did such a great job, baby," she said, still wrapped around his arms, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on," he replied, his voice soft and genuine.

The final clip was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Oscar stood on the stage, dressed in a sharp suit, the Rookie of the Year trophy shining in his hands.

"First of all, I want to thank my team, McLaren, for believing in me and giving me the opportunity," Oscar began, his voice steady but emotional, "But most importantly, I want to thank my girlfriend. She's been my rock through it all, supporting me every step of the way. This award is as much hers as it is mine."

The camera panned to his girlfriend, sitting in the audience with tears in her eyes, smiling proudly. The fans watching the livestream couldn't help but gush over the touching moment.

As the compilation ended, the screen faded to black with the text, "Oscar Piastri: The Ultimate Simp, and Proud of It."

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lizlovestofangirl · 19 days

Text

"he just comes running over to me"

ln4 x journalist!reader

🎧 - the alchemy by taylor swift

what will the world do when they find out lando is dating the internet's favorite f1 journalist?

MASTERLIST

--------------------------------------------------------

liked by charles_leclerc, mercedesamgf1, francisca.cgomez, and others

yourusername so much love for japan 🇯🇵🍡

view comments:

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liked by author

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the japan interview

instagram

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, mclaren, and others

landonorris p5, thanks for a great weekend everyone 🇯🇵

view comments:

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liked by author

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yourusername's story

view reply from landonorris

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twitter

yourusername's stories

📍miami, usa

view reply from yourbestfriend

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view reply from alexandrasaintmluex

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liked by yourusername

liked by yourusername, f1, carlossainz55, and others

landonorris WWE FUCKIJG DID IT. P1 🏆

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oscarpiastri congrats, mate 🧡

landonorris couldnt have done it without you, osc

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user ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

user so they're in love

liked by author

mclaren PROUDLY PAPAYA

landonorris 🧡

carlossainz55 congrats, cabrón

georgerussel63 🏆🏝️🏎️

alex_albon YESSSS

the miami interview

liked by landonorris, iamrebeccad, f1academy, and others

yourusername where's the trophy? he just comes running over to me 🧡

view comments:

landonorris omg my girlfriend just posted!

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#formula 1 #smau #f1 #lando norris #mclaren #lizlovestofangirlformula1 #lando nowins #lando norizz #lando norris smau #f1 smau #mclaren smau #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #lando norris x journalist!reader #journalist

1K notes · View notes

gyuswhore · 8 months

Text

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (2)

«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»

PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader

SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.

GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.

PLAYLIST: right here!

WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)

Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k

masterlist

WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut, making out, breast play, fingering (f. receiving), p in v sex (protected + unprotected), oral (f. receiving) uhhhh i think that's it lmk tho

[A/N]: Part 2 !! shit goes down in this one so be prepared ig lmao. thank you for the love on part 1, i hope you enjoy the finale too hehe

For the third time this week, you wish you could squeeze your brother’s brains with your own two hands and watch it explode like a grape without legal repercussions. Or parental ones.

You slam your phone down on the counter after you end your conversation with him, frustrated as you watch the empty shelf where you left your dinner for today in the fridge last night, and the other green box that was actually your brothers. Refusing to eat the dry PB&J he usually packs for himself, you slam the fridge door shut, trudging out the door to leave for work, thoroughly annoyed at the prospect of needing to eat out.

It’s gone forgotten for most of the day, that is until the clock hits eight and you feel your stomach grumble, immediately putting you in a sour mood as you remember you couldn’t enjoy your pasta because your brother was enjoying your pasta. You only had another hour left, supposing you could wait till you get home to make dinner yourself, not feeling the burger joint across the street in the slightest. Eating a moonpie to satiate yourself for the time being, you go back to stocking the shelves for the new LP shipment, making a vague mental note to ask Mingyu if Jia liked the gift he picked out a couple weeks ago.

Your opportunity arises almost automatically as you walk over to greet whoever came in, abandoning the opened box of bubble wrapped LPs as you hear the bell chime softly at the front of the store.

Mingyu was here (again), hands occupied with a bag, looking relieved to find you emerging from the shelves.

“Oh, you’re here. I was afraid you left already,” he says, smiling slightly.

“Would’ve been closed if I did.” You nudge your head towards the clearly unlocked door, donning the neon open sign.

He looks a little dumb, turning to look at the door. “Oh. Right.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Caught me at a good time though, I was just about to start wrapping up here.”

He suddenly looks like he’s reminded of what he’s come here for, placing the bag on the desk next to him. “Seok told me to drop this off for you, he said it’s food.”

Snorting, you take a look at the inside to find takeout from your favourite pasta place, which also happens to be your most expensive favourite pasta place. Seokmin felt bad enough to spend extra dollars on your dinner tonight, you guessed you could forgive him.

You sigh as you speak. “And you strike as his errand boy yet again, sorry he’s been making you do all this.”

“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.

“Hm? He’s been pissing me off all week, this is him trying to get on my good side before I spit in his coffee.”

He laughs at that, a toothy smile that has your stomach lurching. The flashback was brief but vivid all the same, his grin triggering a long forgotten memory. You could almost see the black studs in his ears again, his bangs falling in chunks on his forehead, his face turning into the boyish sixteen year old recollection on your kitchen counter, drinking cans of Monster and helping you lie to your mom.

“Explains why he was ready to drop that much on a bowl of pasta.”

“Hey, it’s good.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He grins, “I’m gonna leave your pasta in your loving embrace, I have to feed my car now. Been putting it off till payday.”

“Oh, right. Thanks for dropping this off though, appreciate it.” You offer him a tight lipped smile. One that he returns, canines almost glinting in the light (but that’s just you).

“No worries, I’ll see ya around.” You don’t remember what you were meant to ask him until he’s long jingled the glass door shut, walking to his parked car. You supposed it could wait, Jia would’ve liked anything he got her. You could ask him later, not wanting to have him turn around to answer the obvious question.

The opportunity does not arise as easily as it did this time, a couple weeks passing in relative uneventful indifference, slow days at the store and nights in seven days a week. You were starting to wish you’d taken summer classes while you were stuck here anyway, the mundane days pushing you to believe you’d rather be busy than inexplicably bored. It’s not until your brother has a near mental breakdown from only having a sister as his main recreational contact that there’s a change.

Mingyu sits on your couches in the dark, useless blanket thrown over his torso as both of his sock clad feet hang out in the air. To be fair, nobody’s looking at anybody as the eyes remain on yet another unnecessary explosion on the screen. You vaguely wonder how the ship hasn’t sunk yet.

“What the fuck do you mean he’s been alive this whole time?” Seokmin utters, voice thick with the entire stick of butter he stuck into his bowl of popcorn.

“Who funded this?” Mingyu mumbles from the other end, a deep frown etched on his face.

“The people who funded the other three monstrosities.” You roll your eyes, inching your way into a sitting position, the ache making its way into the crick of your neck.

“There’s more?!” The prospect had Mingyu hurtling into a sitting position, but not without his own set of winces as he feels the bones cracking and muscles aching. His hair is a mess, his hoodie nearly backwards, and you can’t help but laugh at the mildly confused and bewildered expression he has on.

“Yeah, you wanna watch those too?” you ask through giggles.

Glancing at the final pub scene that’s playing on the TV, he's quick to mumble, “Fuck, no.”

“I haven’t watched a real shitty movie in a while.” Seokmin groans as it’s his turn to stretch. “This was fun. Hollywood’s back.”

Both you and Mingyu pointedly ignore his statement, your own mind debating whether you wanted to watch another movie. It’s not until you look up to see Mingyu doing something on his phone that you remember what you wanted to ask him.

“Hey, Mingyu, did — Seokmin!” Your brother’s decided to begin his aerial stretches, touching his toes and cracking his back. You shift your head wildly to get a gap through his restless movements, eventually giving up finding Mingyu. He could hear you. “Did you – ugh – did you get to give Jia her present?”

You aren’t sure what it is, but the way the question has Seok landing on his heels mid tip toe stretch and how Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up, you don’t doubt you’ve touched on something sensitive. There’s a part of you that wonders if it’s too late to take it back when both boys make eye contact with each other, but your brother beats you to it.

“I, uh…forgot to tell her,” he lowtones.

You look to your brother and then to Mingyu.

“We broke up.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Mingyu smiles a little awkwardly, and Seok makes a strangled sound that may have been a laugh of his own. Or a cough, you aren’t too sure. “But…she did like the present, when I gave it to her anyway.”

“Oh, that’s…that’s good,” you manage, not knowing what to say. “Sorry that happened though…sucks.”

“She ended it–” that has your own brows shooting up in disbelief. Kim Mingyu got dumped? “–over the phone, she decided she wanted to stay home for a while to figure out what she wanted to do. Uni wasn’t cutting it for her here…”

“I mean, good for her, I guess. Hope you’re doing okay, though.”

He blows air out of his cheeks, scratching his neck. “I mean, we’re fine. Ended it on good terms.”

Seokmin’s still standing awkwardly staring at the still running ending credits for something to do. “Should we get food?”

“I don’t know, are you hungry?” Mingyu asks.

“How is the heartburn not getting to you yet? You basically emptied the country’s dairy reserves in a single popcorn serving,” you grumble.

“Don’t underestimate my ingestional abilities,” he retorts.

Mingyu stares for a moment. “Aren’t you lactose intoletrant or something?”

Seokmin turns to him, mouth open as he points his finger, “You know, I might be.”

“No you aren’t, if you were lactose intolerant then I’d be lactose intolerant,” you shoot.

“Explain the empty can of air freshener in the bathroom after queso and chips?”

“Have you considered during queso and chips that queso is a dip and not an optional beverage?”

Mingyu’s cutting between you two before you can go on with your bickering, afraid he’d have to physically peel you off of each other if it goes on, “Let’s just go to a drive thru, you can get your lactose or…non lactose options however you like.”

That’s how you’re shoved into the backseat of Mingyu’s car, Seokmin fiddling with the GPS to find the nearest McDonalds.

“How do you not know where the nearest McDonald’s is, you live here,” Mingyu hisses as he takes his fourth right turn in a row.

“We always just order in, who sits in a car and goes to McDonalds.”

“Us apparently,” you lowtone to Mingyu from the back, picking at a crusty flower that you found in between the seats. They ignore you.

“Okay, I think it’s this one. Dude, get a new GPS, this one responds after fifty years, of course it’s gonna take this long.”

Their own bickering is starting to zone out into a buzz in your ears as you stare at a patch of leather behind Mingyu’s seat. You vaguely considered that you’re falling asleep.

The streetlight has other plans, however, when you sense something glinting in the sudden light underneath the seat. Your interest is piqued, moving forward to see what it was. Mingyu senses you shifting and asks you what you’re doing.

You don’t answer him as you shuffle around to catch sight of it again. And then you see it, a tiny necklace on the slightly dirty mat, a circle charm with a single ‘J’ in the center. You aren’t sure why you froze at the sight, the gold glinting prettily even in the dark. Leaving it there, you emerge from under the seat, trying to seem nonchalant.

“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”

Mingyu’s common occurrence in the bookstore is starting to concern you, never catching him as the type to read something other than the occasional bad riddles on the back of a cereal box. You stand corrected however, as you find yourself trying to find a hardcover for him on the computer system, mumbling incoherently.

“Never knew you read.”

“Well, now you do. This one’s really good though, you should read it too.” He notes, motioning towards the paperback version he brought with him for the book he’s finding.

You snort at his suggestion. “Have you realised this is one of the most popular books in its genre right now? Hard to find someone who hasn’t read it.”

He frowns at the revelation, “Oh. None of my friends read it.”

Seokmin hasn’t opened a book for recreational purposes since he was twelve. As for his other friends…they didn’t exactly seem like the smart type either. You get up to move to the shelf the computer’s indicated, trying to walk off your annoyance at a particular memory before it begins to show. Mingyu follows you in your pursuit to find his book, skimming the shelves himself as he strolled behind you.

“Oh, right, how’s that exhibition thing going? Forgot to ask about it,” you ask as you spot the box of the hardcovers at the top of the shelf. You grab the ladder that rests near the wall as he answers.

“It’s going pretty good, nearly done. I just need to send the final pieces over – what’re you doing?”

You grunt as you begin to climb up the metal ladder, trying to get to the box. “Getting your book, genius.”

“Wait–” He moves to grab the ladder at the base as he watches you step higher. “Get down! I’ll go up instead.”

“You get cold feet at the bottom of an escalator, be serious, Mingyu,” you grunt as you pull the box towards yourself, the ladder shaking with the force it takes, and it has Mingyu gripping the metal tighter. You pull the familiar cover out before closing the box back up. “There.”

“Why would you keep supposed bestsellers there, isn’t this like, in demand?” He grumbles as he continues to hold the ladder as you climb back down.

“Ran out. Need to restock them at the front, but I’ll do that tomorrow.” You huff as you jump the last step, earning a loud yelp from Mingyu.

“Chill out,” you chuckle as he puts the ladder away. “Okay, do you want me to look at anything else for you?”

“What would you recommend for my next imaginary adventure?” he asks as he picks out a random book from the shelf, trying to find the blurb.

“Not that one.” You scrunch your nose at the sight.

“This one I know is popular. What’s wrong with it?” He chuckles as he puts it back.

“Don’t believe everything you see on the internet,” you call out as you walk back to the front.

“And believe you instead?”

Oh, you wish.

Picking up your current read from the front of the store, you wait for him to reach the end of the opening where you stand to hand it to him.

“You can decide that for yourself. Haven’t finished it yet, but it looks super promising. Try it out if you want.”

He barely looks over the glistening title before handing it back to you, and you nearly assume he didn’t want it.

“Ring both of them up,” he says, and then with a pause he continues, “And anything else you think is good too, I don’t really care.”

Deciding you’d test the waters with this first recommendation, you only cash him in for two. He doesn’t question it as you do your job behind the desk, making casual conversation as he waits for you to find the right barcode.

“How far are you with that one?”

“The one I gave you? Just touched chapter 20, I think.”

He only hums in response as he pays, grabbing the bag that you push towards him.

“Let me know how you like it,” you comment before he begins to turn to leave.

“‘Course.” He grins, and you can't help but grin right back. He leaves you in the store with a slight heat coming up to your cheeks, and a wad of gum in your mouth to keep your stomach in check.

By the time the next day rolls around, it’s been nearly 24 hours before you hear from him again, his contact seemingly only ever gracing you within the walls of the bookstore – except he isn’t physically here. Mingyu texts you, and you nearly fall out of your chair at the sight of his name on your phone.

It’s near embarrassing how quickly you pick up your phone, passcode going wrong once, twice, thrice…you decide it’s the top five worst times your phone’s refused face ID. You’re slamming your fingers onto the screen harder than you should, watching the warp in the pixels at the pressure. By the time it does open its secrets for you, the annoyance has settled. Not at him though.

[Mingyu]: hey [Mingyu]: i got to chap 20 [You]: what [You]: how [Mingyu]: started reading when i got home [Mingyu]: and then i got to 20 [Mingyu]: i think i pulled an all nighter [You]: you think? [You]: was it that good [Mingyu]: couldnt put it down [Mingyu]: i wanna talk about it but my eyes are closing [You]: you know where to find me when you wake up

The typing ellipses don’t pop up after that, and you assume for the better that he’s succumbed to his afternoon drowsiness. If he was serious about that all nighter (which you don’t doubt, no way he could’ve plowed through twenty chapters and gotten any sleep), you assume he’ll be knocked out for at least the rest of the afternoon.

Smiling to yourself at the thought of him wanting to text you about your matching achievements (and actively pushing your mind away from the blessed image of a napping Mingyu), you find yourself scrolling up the conversation, trying to remember the last time Mingyu had texted. That was easy to find out as the short scroll past the sparing details from your photography adventures landed you straight into late last year, a sparse conversation regarding your brother’s whereabouts when he wouldn’t answer his phone.

You remembered the conversation. As mundane and ordinary as it was, it was difficult to forget the way your hands were shaking as you typed your one word replies, how your breathing was coming out uneven at a mere text back. You could argue there was less of that this time round, proud of yourself for learning to control your emotions better.

There’s a train of thought that leads you to every recent interaction you’ve had with him. The conversations where you could look him in the eye, your relative indifference when he would show up unannounced, the disappearance of the wad of emotions in your stomach at the mere mention of his name.

The latter may be slightly untrue, but you can't help but note how the ounces of fear within the concoction is gone. You were never quite sure what it was that you were so afraid of, perhaps the fateful night at Seungcheol’s party had answered that question for you, but still.

“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.

“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.

“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”

Despite telling yourself it was the alcohol talking, maybe even a couple puffs of whatever — the mild disappointment remains. Thinking about the weeks following that, the moping and the hurt, you almost don’t blame Mika for acting the way that she did.

Your brother had always been oblivious to all the frolicking in your heart that would ignite as Mingyu would enter the room, and for over a decade at that. And yet, it was during those weeks that he had noticed you acting like you had been dumped, asking you what on earth was wrong with you.

“Did somebody say something to you?” he asks.

“Huh?” you frown, annoyed at the way he's planted himself directly in front of the cabinet that held your beloved moonpies.

“You’re acting like you’ve been rejected by the love of your life. Nayeon’s not telling me anything and you’re being avoidant, what is up with you?” He huffs, hands on his hips.

Oh, if only he knew how right he was. But you weren’t upset because the love of your life rejected you (anymore, at least), you were upset because he was a public asshole.

It takes more coaxing from him to get you to start talking. It’s easier when he brings out the big guns: “D’you want me to tell mom?”

You tell him a little, not naming any names, much to his dismay. “Some guy was an ass, something about me being too easy or whatever.”

“You’re upset because some drunk dude decided to run his mouth?” He scrunches his nose at the thought. “Ignore him, he’s stupid.”

“Thanks for the help, I’m cured,” you deadpan, pushing him aside to get to the gold inside the cabinets.

“I could get Mingyu to help me beat him up, I just need a name.”

Oh. You briefly wonder how he'd feel if he had to beat up his best friend.

More than his attempts to sound like a cool older brother, the image of Mingyu beating himself up brings you more amusement than anything else. You crack a smile at the thought.

That was months ago, yet you can’t seem to forget the hurt. Trying to shake off where your thoughts were taking you, you get up to take a walk around the store for something to do, fixing microscopic displacements on the shelves and wondering if you should restock something, only to realize you’d already done that when you came in, not wanting to whip out the ladder again to restock the ones you'd just landed from.

Landing inevitably back behind the counter, you instinctively reach for the book wedged beside the computer. Your outstretched hand stops midway, thinking about how Mingyu’s reached as far as you in the story quite literally overnight. Retracting your hand, you decide you’d wait.

The bell chimes signaling a customer, and you find yourself grateful for the distraction.

It’s nearing 8:30 when you decide you should close early. It was slower than usual today, the few walk-ins leaving without purchases too hefty, rendering you bored in your seat for most of the day. You’re locking the drawers of the main desk when Mingyu walks in with the familiar tune of the bell chiming, soft smile as he greets you quietly.

“How was your nap?” you ask, trying not to giggle at his still dazed expression.

“Pretty good, didn’t wanna wake up though.” His voice remains relatively coarse, and you don’t miss the light indent on his left cheek. It’s endearing, enough to have you wishing you could cup his face in a loving squish.

But you don’t.

“You don’t say,” you comment. Pointing at your own cheek as you continue, “You sure you don’t wanna take the night off too?”

“Fuck,” he whispers as he looks down to fumble for his phone to see for himself in his front camera. The puffiness hasn’t gone away entirely, evident when he’s frowning and looking downwards, and the urge to squeeze comes hurtling back.

“Did you drive like this?”

“Uh, no, I walked.”

“Walked?” You try to comprehend if that was even more dangerous. He only nods. “Why?”

“Wanted to see you.”

It takes effort to not clutch your chest at the way your heart leaps. Kim Mingyu, you bastard.

“Had to talk about the book.”

Your voice comes out a little more breathless than you’d like, but you hope his drowsiness skips over it. “You could’ve texted.”

He pauses as he mulls it over. “I mean, yeah…I don’t know. I just put my shoes on and came here.”

You decide you’d spare him the brain power and continue your remaining closing duties, talking to him as you move around the store.

“We can take my car to my place, better than getting distracted here.”

He only nods in response. “Do you want any help?”

“Nope, just need to turn off the lights and lock the doors. Let me grab my bag.”

By the time you’re home, an XL pizza and drinks in your arms to satiate Mingyu’s post nap ravenous tendencies, you drop down on the couch with a huff. Seokmin hears the ruckus and appears from his room, not wasting time to break on the pizza with Mingyu as you leave to freshen up. By the time you settle with your own slice it seems as though Mingyu has roused himself significantly more than before.

“Okay,” you huff as you land on the soft cushioning, “What did you think about the book?”

“Hard to believe this is her first book, it’s really good.”

“Her world building is amazing, some of the best I’ve read.”

Your back and forth discussion grows increasingly passionate, forgetting the fact that your brother was also right there excluded from the conversation. His head shifts back and forth as the both of you converse, utterly lost. It would’ve been funny, except neither if you were actually looking at him.

He manages to get a word in as one of you pauses for breath. “Since when do you read?”

Mingyu gapes at the question, seemingly trying to find an answer. “Recently.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? I just wanted to start reading,” he scoffs in a manner that could be described as exaggerated. If he’s trying to throw Seokmin off his scent, he’s succeeded, as he watches Seokmin get up and announce that he has work to do. That leaves the both of you alone.

The conversation takes you into the late hours of the night, Mingyu’s prior nap releasing him from the chains of reasonable sleeping hours as he remains wide awake despite the 3 AM time on the dial. You manage to keep up with him, even when he follows you to the kitchen to brew a coffee.

“Do you usually work this hard just to make coffee?” he asks as he watches you discard the used espresso puck.

“We have a bottle of the instant stuff here somewhere for when I’m lazy,” you explain as you pour the fresh shots into the prepped ice and milk. “Doesn’t taste the same though.”

“Coffee is coffee,” he says as he stirs the drink you push towards him.

“Quite the contrary. Besides, the instant stuff fucks with my stomach, I’d rather not.” You take a sip of your coffee, glancing at the sink. “Will say, hate everything I have to wash afterwards.”

“I’ll do ‘em later, gotta pay you back for all the manual labour that went into this thing,” he refers to the latte he’s sipping on currently.

“The appreciation is enough. We can make Seok do them in the morning for being a loser and going to bed early,” you snort. Mingyu laughs at that, the image of Seokmin doing dishes while the both of you sleep in.

“You sure you don’t wanna call it a night?” he asks you as you place yourself on the kitchen counter.

“I’m having fun, Mingyu, seriously. I’m off tomorrow too, I don’t have to wake up,” you reassure for the nth time.

He doesn’t reply, only stares up at you from his leaned position. He’s chewing on his lip, and you find yourself unconsciously chewing at your own, the already raw skin stinging at the abrasion. Mingyu’s hands come up to your face slowly, like he knew it was hurting as he pulls your bottom lip to release it with his thumb.

“You’re gonna bleed,” he whispers. His hand that grasps your chin doesn’t move, rough thumb continuing to graze at your lip lightly.

“You never stopped picking at your lips, did you?” he wonders out loud, eyes trained on your mouth.

Your own hand comes to lightly grip at his forearm. He remembers your habit, picking at the skin of your lips since near middle school, getting yelled at when you had to excuse yourself from the dinner table when they would bleed.

“Old habits die hard.” Your voice is thick despite the gulp you had to take before opening your mouth.

It was true, probably too much as you continue to look at his near perfect face. The oldest habit, the hardest to die.

Mingyu drops his hand, landing it in your lap, your own hand still gripping his forearm. You aren’t sure what’s going through you as you trail your hand up further, to his wrists, to the dip of his palm, landing on his fingers. You grip his hand, tight this time.

“I’m gonna jump,” you whisper, and you feel his grip tighten around yours as he braces to support you off the counter.

You face him in silence, contemplating, “It’s hot in here, let’s go back out.”

He watches as you pick your cup off the counter and leave, not waiting for him to follow you. He finds himself trying to take deeper breaths, stalling, but not for long as he joins you back on the couch.

It probably came as a shock to both of you the first time Mingyu announced his leave much earlier in the night, when you stopped him, asking him to stay. It was silent for a few sparing moments as you both absorbed what had come out of your mouth, trying to make sense of it. You found yourself needing to coax him a little more to convince him he wasn’t overstaying his visit, that you were having fun. He sits back down, warning you that this was going to be a long night.

You don’t think you could ever forget the absolute somersault your stomach performed, the after effects leaving you still as a plank.

It was a long night indeed. And yet, when you found your eyes closing after a fight, much later on the couch with a large blanket shared between the both of you, Mingyu watches you doze off while leaning on the couch facing him, wishing the night was longer.

If you were awake, you probably would’ve found yourself agreeing.

There’s a lot Mingyu has to learn about himself. He’s reminded of the fact nearly everyday. Especially right now as Seokmin runs his mouth sitting with him at a secluded booth in some bar.

They had company, a couple guys joining them for dinner before leaving not too long after. That left him and a slightly tipsy Seokmin alone, who’s currently munching on a platter of crackers in front of him. He was bright enough, the energy from the others keeping him going as they played their drinking games and ate their obnoxious amounts of food. It was alot more somber with only the both of them left, his mood deflating as their friends slowly dwindled in number. That wasn’t about to stop him from ordering another beer though.

“Summer’s so boring,” he grumbles in dejection, flicking a stray crumb off the table.

“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies.

Seokmin doesn’t answer him, but continues to look like a kicked puppy, a slight pout forming on his face.

Mingyu fights the urge to scoff, “You can’t possibly be this upset about summer being depressing.”

“It’s not about that.”

Mingyu takes a swig of his own drink before sighing loudly, “What’s this about then?”

Seokmin says your name, and Mingyu is suddenly very interested. “She just seems to be doing a lot better since she started working at the bookstore.”

“Better?”

“She told me about this guy a couple months ago.”

Mingyu’s trying really hard to not look visibly deflated, not that Seokmin would notice considering his state, but he attempts to sound nonchalant regardless. “Do we know him?”

“I – no, that’s not,” he huffs in exasperation, “She said she overheard him, basically calling her easy.”

“Easy?”

“I don’t know, something about her chasing his tail or whatever, she won’t tell me who it is. She hadn’t been doing too great recently and I’m pretty sure it was because of him.”

It is dawning on Mingyu, embarrassingly slowly, that the guy Seokmin is talking about — may be him.

His voice is hoarse, a little frantic. “And she’s doing better, you said?”

“Oh yeah, the bookstore’s been amazing for her. Not sure how though, ‘cause she just sits there doing nothing for hours.”

He can’t bring himself to meet Seokmin’s eyes, remnants of his memories flurrying around in his brain in an attempt to figure out what other bullshit he had spewed that day. He was sure you weren’t there, you couldn’t be.

“Maybe doing nothing was what she needed.” Mingyu’s reply is whatever came to him off the top of his head, mind still racing.

“Hm, I guess. I was trying to get her to tell me, we could’ve chopped his dick off together,” Seokmin grumbles.

Mingyu winces slightly, eyes tight shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s a protective hand that subconsciously reaches his crotch area. “Yeah, yeah totally.”

“Fucker got let off easy, he should be happy she’s doing good.” Seokmin continues to ramble, voice getting increasingly louder.

“Yeah…”

“She’s not easy. My sister isn’t easy at all! Running after his tail, my ass! She doesn’t need some motherfucker with bad hair to be running his mouth, drunk as a bitch.” He stabs a single chopstick into the spare piece of meat on his plate, and the force has Mingyu flinching slightly.

“How do you know he has bad hair?” Mingyu continues to stare at the impaled piece of beef that Seokmin brings to his mouth.

“I don’t need to know a motherfucker to know he uses shitty hair gel.”

Mingyu may try to run his hair gel past Seokmin at some point. But right now, he’s only trying to make it out of the bar with his sex organs intact.

“Hey, we’re past this, remember? She’s doing great right now and that’s all that matters.” Mingyu sounds overly flustered, but he can’t bring himself to care as he attempts to reign in an angry Seokmin. They were garnering looks, and the last thing he wanted was to get kicked out before they had paid.

Seokmin is still huffing and puffing, but significantly less so as he finds reason in Mingyu’s words. “I’m gonna find out who he is.”

“You hate living in peace.”

“My sister’s hasn’t had any peace because of this dickwad, I’m—”

“OKAY! Okay, got it. We’ll figure that out when you’re sober.” Mingyu rises from his own seat as he finds Seokmin lifting his own butt off his chair in a near war cry.

He manages to fend him off, waving for the bill before he has to pull him back from aimlessly marching to whoever’s house he had in mind. He calms down as they wait for the check, finishing the remaining scraps on the table in silence.

Seokmin seems nearly back to his regular self after a few minutes, forehead creases smoothing over during his cool down time. He speaks, except this time it’s in a more socially acceptable manner.

“Hey, I’ve been noticing, you and her have been getting pretty close lately. I don’t know, it’s just, I woke up and saw both on the couch and —”

“Here’s your bill!” The waiter cuts him mid sentence, placing the check on the table.

Mingyu knew what Seokmin was getting to, and he was thanking every star in the galaxy for bringing the waiter into their lives at that exact moment. He’s quick to fuss over the glossy piece of paper, humming and making comments at their purchases to fill in any silent opportunities to let Seokmin continue. Mingyu’s slips his card in the wallet.

“It’s on me,” he announces as he flashes a quick smile to the waiter. “You can cut a ten for yourself.”

“Wait, what — let’s split, what’s wrong with you?” Seokmin jolts up as registers what’s happening a little too late.

“It’s fine, you can pay for the next one.” He says as he shifts around the table to look for his phone. “You should probably go to bed too, it’s getting pretty late. Sleep off the beer and whatnot.”

Seokmin is left speechless as Mingyu gets up, grabbing his stuff.

“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts.

“Is here,” Mingyu spews a quick ‘thanks’ to the waiter, waving his card in front of Seokmin so he’d finally stand the fuck up.

“Do I need to drag you out of that chair, let’s go!” he says, grabbing Seok by the arm to lift him off his seat. It was nearly funny how he couldn’t get him to stay within the vicinity mere minutes ago and now is begging for him to get up.

By the time Mingyu’s jamming Seok’s key into your apartment, he’s tired of his endless rambling. He can only appreciate his drunk brain for not bringing up the last question he tried asking him. He’s opening the door, urging Seokmin to walk inside, slapping him awake from his nap against the wall.

Mingyu deems it best to physically put him in bed for the furnitures’ sake, pushing him in front to lead him to his room. Mingyu’s spent by the time he’s done and Seokmin is snoring, his back cracking from the hunched position he’s kept from tucking him in and taking his shoes and jacket off.

He tiptoes out (despite knowing it’d take a marching band to wake him up at that point), closing the door as quietly as possible.

“What’re you doing here?”

Mingyu nearly jumps out of his skin, landing a mile as he hears your voice in the dark hallway, hand coming up to his heart. “Jeez— announce yourself, would you?”

“In my own house?” you raise an eyebrow.

“Just—” he waves you off as he comes round, standing straight. “I was putting Seok to bed.”

You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”

“Me? No, but he’s knocked out right now, he’s probably gonna need a pill in the morning,” he replies.

“Hm, I’ll see to it in the morning, or whenever it is that he wakes up.”

“Yeah.” Mingyu is standing awkwardly in front of you in the dark hall, not having anything else to say. “I’ll get going now.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Get some sleep,” you say as you let him move past you.

“You too, don’t know why you’re awake,” he chuckles quietly.

“Couldn’t sleep, I’ll go to bed now though.”

The awkwardness is painful, Mingyu can feel it in his chest. But what he’s feeling more is the way you look in your night shirt now that you’re in the light of the living room, legs shown farther up than you’d usually let them go. He wonders if you're wearing shorts underneath, but slaps himself out of it when he realises he’s been silent for too long.

“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

Mingyu replays the last five minutes in his head the entire car ride home, when he’s changing out of his clothes, when he’s brushing his teeth, when he crawls under the warm covers to finally call it a night. Mingyu thinks about what he said all those months ago at a dumb party, how he’s hurt you more than he thought he had. There’s an ache that plunges into him, the thought of you going through that because of him while he stayed blissfully unaware.

He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do to make it up to you, but right now, he’s happy. Happier than he’s been in a while, falling asleep to the thought of you.

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

You, on the other hand, are far from happy as you find yourself in yet another car related predicament.

Having to run to work in the middle of July is never a preferred option, yet you find yourself needing to do it anyway when you walk out to your engine refusing to start.

You really needed a new car.

Abandoning the hunk of what was turning out to be just expensive scrap metal, you rile other options out in your head.

Seokmin was long gone with his car. The bus was gonna take too long. No way in hell were you about to overpay a taxi to take you somewhere that was essentially just a 15 minute walk (read as run).

So you find yourself slinging your bag as a crossbody, thanking the heavens that you at least didn’t need to change your shoes. You pray for your white sneakers as you run across town, blurting apologies to passerbys that would gape at your hurried form. As apologetic as you were, it didn’t compare to how sorry you felt for yourself, the heat pricking your skin in an agitated rise anytime you’d slow down.

The AC is near heavenly as you gasp walking into the bookstore, red faced and hair sticking to your forehead.

“Sorry,” you gulp frantically. “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Oh god,” you hear your boss comment as she sees you walk in. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just need a minute. Car broke down.”

She ushers you in front of the AC, waiting for you to collect yourself before taking her leave.

“I think I’m okay now, sorry about that.” Your chuckle comes out a little choked. So much for being convincing.

“You really should get a new car. I have a friend who’s daughter is selling hers, do you want me to ask them for you?” She’s patting your shoulder as she talks to you, and you recognize her courage to look past the sweat that’s accumulated there.

“That’d be great actually, thank you.”

Your second blow of the day comes right after you’ve finally gotten rid of the buckets of sweat on your body, seating yourself behind your desk to do some digging of your own.

You immediately wish you hadn’t as soon as you open the first second hand market site, the price tags landing you somewhere between never happening and impossible. Groaning, you place your head in your hands as you try to think of what to do. You pray your boss would come back with a quote that isn’t as outrageous as everything else you’ve cursed your eyes upon, seeing as that seemed the only viable option for you.

Closing the windows off your computer, you decide this was a headache for another time. You reach for your bag to rummage through it, only to find yourself in your third predicament of the day.

You had forgotten your book.

It shouldn’t have been a worry, considering you were in a bookstore and had access to about 56 more of the same edition that you could borrow for the day. Except it was a worry, because your copy had been religiously tabbed and annotated as you would read, not a single thought left to be forgotten in your head as they would spring up. You can almost see the pink cover sitting on your desk and you nearly begin to cry.

You wonder if you could break your ‘one book at a time’ streak for the sake of it, picking up another one off the shelf to start. The thought nearly makes you gag, the anxiety of losing interest in your current one leading you to sit aimlessly at your desk for the rest of the day.

What’s even more anxiety inducing to you, however, was the promise you’d made with Mingyu the week prior, to be finished with the book by the end of today so you could finally decide whether the end was worth it or not. The thought has you nearly picking up a copy off the shelf anyway, annotations be damned. Force of habit, however, forbids you as you are shunned by yourself to play solitaire for the rest of the day.

Things seem to look up for you though, as you find yourself reading a text from Mingyu nearly halfway through your day.

You hadn’t spoken to Mingyu at all for the entire week, caving when you found an excuse to finally talk to him to ask where he’d left off on the book. It was even longer before that, reaching the near three week mark where you were virtually zero contact.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you, his sudden absence raising a mild panic within you as your mind raced with the possibilities.

Was he uncomfortable with you?

Was he avoiding you?

Were you less low key than you thought? Was he catching on to how you still weren’t over him?

The wilder thoughts seemed to be laid to rest when you couldn’t take it anymore, texting under the guise of your mutual book topic. Your brain still couldn’t handle it, picking up minuscule details in his texting behavior. Perhaps his replies were choppy, perhaps they were shorter than usual, but it was enough to give your mind the rest it needed regardless of whatever the facts were.

Needless to say, you were more than happy to receive a text from him first after weeks, immediately replying.

[Mingyu]: hey [Mingyu]: are you at work today? [You]: yeah [You]: i get off at 10 tho [Mingyu]: can i see you today?

You try to contain the growing flurry of excitement as you type. It was easier to stay casual over text, you find yourself appreciating.

[You]: course [You]: are you coming to the store? [Mingyu]: i’ll meet you at your place when you get off [You]: okay!!! [You]: see you then

There’s a ghost of a smile on your face as you switch to playing computer chess in celebration. Your day was going horribly, but perhaps it was to balance out the happiness you were feeling at the thought of seeing Mingyu in person after nearly a month.

Were you being dramatic? Possibly. But you figured you’d been left waiting long enough. You let yourself have a spring in your step for the rest of the day, closing up nearly an hour early as you practically skipped back home, enjoying the significantly better nightly weather. Maybe you were abusing your employee privileges, but you couldn’t take the anticipation anymore.

Humming to yourself, you're hopping into the shower as soon as you get home, wanting to freshen up as quickly as possible before he gets here. It was near heaven’s plan the way the day is unfolding for you. Perhaps the universe knew you needed the time to unwind today, bringing Mingyu to you despite the near four week gap.

Grabbing your pens and your book, you settle on the kitchen counter to do something you’d been looking forward to all day, nearly giddy that Mingyu would be joining you to wind down with you soon enough. You’re invested by the time the doorbell rings, a simultaneous text from Mingyu, confirming that he was at the door.

Opening the front door is probably the easiest thing you’ve done all day, grin at the ready as you greet him.

“Hey,” you breathe out at the sight of him.

“Hi,” he replies, slipping inside as you give him space to take off his shoes.

Leading him into the kitchen, you comment lightheartedly, “Nice to see you’re still alive.”

He chuckles slightly at that, “Yeah…sorry about that. I’ve been pretty caught up with…stuff.”

“The exhibition? Weren’t you nearly done with that?” you question as you pass him a glass of water.

He takes a sip before setting it down again, both hands holding the cup on the counter. “It wasn’t that, I’ve been done for a while. Just waiting.”

“It’s next week, isn’t it?”

He hums in response, taking another minuscule sip of water.

“What was it that was keeping you this occupied for so long then?” you continue with a slight snort, trying not to over analyze his slightly…off putting behavior.

“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?”

“Seokmin?” you frown, confused. Was he here to see your brother? “He’s out. I thought you knew.”

“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.”

“Oh.” You sit down on your own chair at the counter, trying to make sense of his mood.

“Mingyu, are you okay—”

“I need to talk to you.”

“O-okay.”

It’s silent. Painfully so.

“I don’t know how else to bring this up so I’m just gonna cut to the chase.”

There’s no reply from your end as you simply stare at him in anticipation, wondering what on earth had him looking this serious as he faces you in his seat.

“I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you. Never enough to match what you’ve felt, but I know you’ve been through the muck because of me, and it makes me feel horrible that I was the cause of something like that.”

“Mingyu—“

“I want to apologize, before I say anything else. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. And I know an apology isn’t gonna take away what I did to you, but I just need you to know that I’m really, really sorry.”

His breathing is heavy as he talks, while yours is near nonexistent as you need to remind yourself to breathe manually.

“I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past year. And I hate myself for making you a subject of that transition when you were the last person that deserved it. I’m happy to say that won’t happen again, because I’ve learned my lesson. For good.”

He pauses.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me, because… because I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve it for what I’m about to say. I may be acting selfish right now but, I think you deserve to know after everything.”

“I love you. I love you so, so much it hurts. I…I’m sorry, I love you. I don’t know how else to say it but, I love you. And I might be hurting you even more with this but I swear I’m not lying. I love you.”

There’s tears now, heavy ones that drip down his face as he refuses to look back up at you, eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to halt the pure emotion that’s trailing down.

You have your own wet cheeks, glossy, shaking eyes that don’t tear away from his hunched form. You’re listening. You’re listening to everything and it’s too much.

“Mingyu,” you whisper. You give up on trying to talk as you let out a breath that sounds almost like a sob.

It’s silent for a few more moments as you absorb everything that’s happening, mind running a hundred miles an hour yet, still as a rock. It’s too much.

“Mingyu, I can’t believe you’re saying this to me.” Your voice is quivering, but you manage the words. “After everything. You’re standing in this very kitchen and saying this to me.”

The deja vu was overwhelming, and you’re projected back to last year when the both of you stood on these very tiles, as you poured your heart out to the man in front of you, only to be told you were an idiot to think he could ever love you like that. The words may not have been said, but the message was clear: you were not made for Kim Mingyu.

And yet, you find yourself in front of an apologetic man, expressing his remorse. And oozing love for you, of all people. Why now? You want to scream. Where was this when you were ready to take him so willingly in your arms.

You’re lying if you say you still don’t want to plant yourself in his hold to sob out your own wretched “I love you”’s. You wanted to go to him. To take what you’ve wanted for so, so long.

But you can’t. You can’t do it.

“I know,” he whispers. “I’m not asking you to do something about any of this. I’m not asking anything of you at all. I just need you to know.”

You bite back a remark, trying so hard to calm yourself down.

“I think you should go.” Your voice breaks. “Please.”

Mingyu is gone. But his scent lingers. His cup remains on the counter, the same one he put his lips to. As he prepared to speak, and speak, and speak.

You can’t stand to stay in the kitchen anymore.

You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart.

It was an accident, perhaps, considering you were willing to do absolutely anything to be around Mingyu when your brother would have him over. What you didn’t know this time, was that the both of them had company.

Tiptoeing down the hall was easy the second you heard your brother's voice coming from the kitchen, announcing that he was getting drinks for them. The plan was simple; walk in under the guise of being annoyed at Seokmin for something and then relish when Mingyu would defend you from his inevitable rage — except this time you’d have a few extra minutes alone with him before your brother trudged back.

Putting on the best annoyed face you could, you stalk past Seokmin’s room, immediately wishing you hadn’t. Mingyu was in your brother's room as expected, sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers with numbers and letters too complex. But he wasn’t alone. There was a girl that sat between his legs, turned over in his arms as they whisper to each other. They weren’t studying at all; the giggles and smiles were a dead giveaway.

You halt in your tracks at the edge of the doorway in mild disbelief, brain computing the situation in front of you. They hadn’t noticed you yet, it was apparent with the way she leans into him to place her lips on his in a peck.

There’s a yell of your name behind you as Seokmin sees you loitering around his room. You jump in surprise, not expecting him back so quickly. Your brother, too, isn’t alone, a girl of his own accompanying him with her arms full of cans, peeking over his shoulder to catch sight of your distressed form.

“What’re you doing?”

Running was the worst thing you could do, and yet you found yourself doing just that in your cornered state. Catapulting face first into your pillows, the sobs coming before you could muffle them. It was humiliating, even more so when you feel your mother’s hand coming up to your shoulder in a stretch of comfort.

“I yelled at him, he won’t do it again!” she attempted to reason with you, trying endlessly to get you to emerge from your cavern of comforters.

“It’s not that!” you groan.

“What is it then? Darling, I won’t know if you won’t tell me.”

Your mother gave up a little bit after that, and your brother had apologized for yelling at you; apologized for all the wrong reasons. You brushed him over.

There were worse things circling your mind in that moment, like the image of Mingyu in a liplock with another girl, the image of him holding her with all his limbs.

You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.

“What the fuck, is wrong with the both of you?” Your brother swoops in like a pesky seagull and snatches the book right out of your hands, eyes blown in exasperation.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Give it back!” you yell, reaching for the book that he’s placed over his head. Climbing the couch does little when he simply moves away from you.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on between you and Mingyu.”

“Nothing is — ugh,” you drop back onto the couch in frustration. You take a deep breath. “Nothing is going on. Now can I have my fucking book back?”

“No, you're avoiding each other.”

“He’s your friend, why would I hang out with him?”

“Stop dodging the question!” he spits.

“Stop dodging.” You exclaim as you jump for the book another time.

“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” He throws the book to the corner of the room. It takes every fiber in your body to stop yourself from plucking every strand of hair off his head.

“Seokmin!” you scream.

“Your book’s fine. Is this about the guy you told me about?” He asks, hands grabbing you by the upper arms, forcing you to look at him.

“No, it’s not,” you grit.

“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” he repeats, making direct eye contact.

“Because,” you start, exhaling deeply, “I’m tired.”

“It’s an exhibition for fucks sake, an exhibition with your face plastered all over it. You go in for five minutes and you’re out. Put something on and let’s go!”

“I don’t want to go.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer. You’ve been doing nothing but go to work and stay home, you need air.”

“I need you out of my air,” you swat his hands away, thoroughly disgruntled.

“I’m giving you twenty minutes.”

He was serious, you realize as he begins to pound on your door with two minutes left to spare. You decided you weren’t about to be embarrassing and show up in your sweatpants, encasing the final shreds of dignity you had left. You couldn’t imagine being asked “who?” when the face on the walls doesn’t match with the one you brought to the place, not doubting the number of fancy scouters that’d be gracing the crowd tonight.

Opting for a plain black dress and a coverup felt enough for you, your usual makeup and matching accessories helping you feel better about the bags under your eyes your concealer couldn’t quite erase.

Seokmin says nothing for probable fear of having you landing back on the couch, choosing to ask you a simple, “Ready?” instead.

The drive is short and silent, the remnants of you and your brother's prior argument still hanging in the air. You weren’t about to apologize to each other, but you would let the hours cool you off before you’re back to your normal selves. For now, you’re glad to step out of the stuffy car, the anticipation having you needing to breathe in an elevated sense.

The place is more crowded than you thought it would be, men and women in fancier than necessary clothes loitering the entrance carpeting. You suddenly feel underdressed.

Catching Mingyu’s name is easy, the display at the front doing the most to highlight the star of the night, catching sight of him is proving a little more difficult. Not that you’re trying, but Seokmin’s embarrassing neck stretches are having you restraining yourself from pulling him down by the collar.

Walking into the display is a strange experience, for you at least. The pictures are larger than you’d thought they would be, spanning the giant walls of the gallery. Your face is huge.

There’s a few other one’s that scatter between the portraits, beautiful all the same. You find yourself wandering as you note the plaques next to the pieces, descriptions and words from the artist; Mingyu’s words. It’s easy to begin looking at the pictures through his eyes, the meticulous scanning you’re doing proving easier for you to zone out despite the crowd.

You’ve gone through nearly every picture, approaching the last one, the one that looked a little more important than the rest as you take in its size. The steps you take towards the plaque are halted as you hear someone calling for you. You recognize his voice, how could you not?

Mingyu is weaving through the crowd to get to you, eyes locked as he tries to make way for himself. Your mouth is open by the time he’s here, mind frantic as you try to figure out what you should say.

Congratulations.

You’ve worked hard on this.

This looks great.

How’ve you been?

“You’re here,” he says, simple as that.

“I’m here,” you breathe out, a nervous smile on your face as you look down at your shoes.

“Seok told me you were here too.”

Your head snaps up, “You were looking for me?”

“I mean, it’s a bit difficult with the crowd—”

“Oh,” you cut him off before you could forget. “Congratulations, by the way. The turnout looks great.”

“Uh, yeah. It’s great.” His eyes skim around the large hall.

You hate how his craning is drawing your eyes to everything else. So to say the plain black button up and slacks he’s sporting, the thin chain he wears around the unbuttoned collar. You hate how he’s put in no effort, and you hate how it makes him look even better somehow.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks after he rounds back to you.

Your reply is drowned in your throat as somebody calls for him across the hall, pointing at a mic in their hands.

“I have to go address everyone, you’ll be here, right?” he asks, but he once again has no chance to listen to your answer when somebody physically drags him by the elbow and yanks him away from you. You lose sight of him in the crowd of people, his face disappearing.

It gives you enough opportunity to slowly turn around to go back to your plaque reading, exhaling loudly as you walk up to the final, biggest piece on the wall. It’s labeled as the focal point of the collection. It’s a picture of you, and for some reason, you can’t remember taking it, or posing for it at all.

You recognize the mountain top, more so the grueling trek up the place for your last shoot with him. It’s a side profile, your arms folding over the railing, face tucked into your padded arms. A single ray of light illuminates your eyes, the background soft.

The picture was an accident. A moment that may have gone forgotten, yet one that appeared right when it was meant to. A mistake made on purpose, one that manages to carry the weight of years. A slow accession of golden rays, dawn illuminating the subject in hues indescribable, except those that describe a feeling. A feeling in turn, indescribable.

Soft. Legible. New.

You take a step back.

And another

Then another.

You look at the picture, the picture of you. Taken the one time you weren’t actively posing for the camera, the one time he wasn’t meant to take a picture of you. It landed here, at the seemingly deserved position of a final piece. The piece that was meant to emulate all that the artist wanted to come out of his work.

You crane your neck up higher, the name of the collection in bold block letters right above the picture that supposedly says it all.

THE BEGINNING

There’s a ball forming in your throat, one that's cementing itself where it stays.

There’s noise happening in your peripherals, somebody speaking into a mic on stage. You’re not paying attention until you hear his name.

“I’m pleased to present to you the man of the hour, mister Kim Mingyu…”

You watch with glossy eyes as he takes the stand, clearing his throat before he begins to speak.

You needed to leave.

Finding Seokmin is easy, and you thank every plane of heaven that it is, considering you’d rather be caught dead than be seen red nosed and teary eyed.

“Let’s go home.”

“Huh? Right now? He just started talking.” Seokmin argues, tearing his eyes away from the stage to gape at you, only to note the expression on your face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Seokmin, you said five minutes.” You grip his sleeve tight. “Please, either give me the keys, or I’ll get a cab.”

He pauses for a moment, and you immediately hate yourself for making him choose between staying for his best friend or leaving for his sister. He slowly comes down to grip your hand, pulling you away.

“Let me drop you off home.”

You’ve calmed down a significant amount during the car ride home, managing to convince (fight) Seokmin into going back to the exhibition hall before Mingyu noticed that he was gone. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you made him miss something as important as this just because you couldn’t control your emotions.

He hugs you at the door, tight, and you hug back just as strong, holding back the river of tears that suddenly threaten to let loose. He presses his lips to your temple, muttering a little ‘I love you’ before he leaves. He knew nothing, yet was ready to comfort you like he did.

You let yourself sob after that, as wracking and strong as they’d come. It’s freeing, to fall to your knees and simply cry like a child. You aren’t sure what it is that you’re crying about, yet you know all the same. The thought of both those things make your head begin to spin, causing another fresh wave of tears to come rushing down.

Remnants of the day Mingyu spoke his truth to you in your own kitchen come tumbling back; the shock, the anger, the hurt, and despite everything, the love.

You loved Mingyu, you weren’t going to sit here and deny it when you were a mess of jewels on the floor with only his face at the forefront of your mind. You’re a liar if you say you don’t love him. You’re a liar if you say you’ll ever stop.

Years and years of pining and wishing and praying, to hope that one day, Mingyu would open his eyes with the realization that he loves you the same.

The day came. Your prayers were granted, your wishes came true; you no longer had to sit on the sidelines as an ignored constant. And yet, you found yourself wanting to be anywhere but in his presence as the prayer unfolded.

Were you too weak to handle reciprocation? Have you gotten comfortable pining by yourself? Or was it something completely else. Were you still hurt by his words? Were you aghast at his audacity to have the courage to speak his heart to you, when you went years without doing so?

Were you protecting yourself? Or were you actively throwing the golden chance you’d received right out the window?

You’re tired, it’s evident with the effort it takes you to simply reach your bedroom, heels thrown somewhere in the doorway as you made the trek barefooted. Hoping your muscles would release the pent up tension at the learnt feeling of the mattress, you find yourself closing your eyes awaiting the relief.

Still clad in your dress and makeup, you attempt to find the solace of sleep, knowing you’d feel nothing if there was nothing to perceive. The universe doesn’t seem to want to give you that luxury, your eyes wide awake despite closed lids. The thoughts aren’t showing signs of slowing down either, every part of your mind alive as you remain still as a rock on your bed.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been in bed, but as you hear the distinct jingle of keys in a lock, you know Seokmin is home. The door of your room is opened very quietly, and closed just as quick when he sees your form in bed seemingly asleep.

You open your eyes for the first time in hours, the darkness remaining as you slowly sit up against the cushions. Your movements are sluggish as you stare into the abyss, brain quiet for once as you swing your bare legs over the mattress, slowly trudging down the hall to your brother's bedroom.

Knocking slowly, you hear a slight shuffle before the door is opened, the light from inside the room illuminating the dark hall and forcing you to squint.

“Did I wake you?” Seokmin asks, sporting formal trousers with his dinosaur pajama shirt.

“Uh, no, I was awake.”

“Why haven’t you changed yet?”

You ignore him, cutting straight to the chase, “Can I borrow your car?”

There’s silence for nearly three seconds before Seokmin speaks, “What on earth do you need my car for this late at night?”

“Nayeon’s”

“Bullshit.”

You let out a loud, loud sigh, “Will you believe it for now?”

Your brother looks at you with an expression you can’t really pinpoint, eyes like he’s scanning into your soul. “The keys are at the door.”

You walk back to your room to grab your phone and your cover up, not bothering to change as you grab Seokmin’s keys and leave. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave the house so late at night, but your brain seems to have activated tunnel vision as you nearly stalk towards the car. You’re pulling up to where you need to be within minutes, the empty roads leading you on near autopilot.

By the time you’re standing in front of the door, your desire to settle this once and for all turns pungent in your head. You needed to end this one way or another, you were tired of running in circles.

Ringing the doorbell is easy, it’s just the realization that settles during those few moments of waiting that grab you by the throat. You were really doing this.

Mingyu opens the door quicker than you’d anticipated, after briefly wondering if he’d already gone to sleep after the long day he’s probably had. His brows furrow as he registers you at his door, your name tumbling out of his lips in mild confusion. He’s still in the clothes you saw him last, and you doubt it’s been long since he got home too.

“Promise me you mean it,” you say.

“What?”

“Promise me you mean it.”

“Mean what?” The crease between his brows deepens as he tries to make sense of what you’re saying.

“Whatever you said. Promise me you mean it. Promise me. On all the years we spent together, on every truth you've ever said to me. Promise on me that you mean it.”

The silence is deafening, yet you wait. You wait for him to respond. You wait for him to understand what you’re saying.

Mingyu gulps before opening his door wider, expression neutralizing slightly as he invites you inside. “Why're you standing on the door? Come inside.”

“I’m not taking another step in your direction, Kim Mingyu, not until you answer me,” you snap.

Letting his hand leave the grip on the door, he brings them both up to rub at his face, taking a simultaneous breath, deep and shaky. When he emerges his eyes are showing a hint of red as he licks his lips.

Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks.

“I want to rip my heart out for what it wants from you. I want to rip it out for what it did to yours. Believe me when I say I’ve forgotten how it felt to be this sincere. I love you. I don't deserve to say it, but I love you.”

There’s a beat that passes, one that you barely feel as you throw your bag on the floor of his entryway, grabbing him by the collar with both hands as you yank his face down to hover right in front of yours, nose touching, lips not quite.

“If you’re lying to me,” you whisper, shaky voiced, “I’m gonna chop your balls off.”

Mingyu answers for you as he finally, finally closes the cursed gap between you, lips capturing yours in a long awaited kiss. You let him pull you inside as you move your lips against each other, the distinct click of the door signaling you were finally inside.

His hands grip your hips and waist in a manner that’s near painful, yet you can’t find yourself complaining even as he pushes you against the now closed door, hard. His mouth leaves yours for what is barely a second, before your desperate hands move his face back in to continue what you’ve been wanting to do for years.

His mouth is warm, the vaguest hint of champagne on his tongue. You wonder how many toasts he’s clinked and downed, how many times he thought of you as he celebrated.

“I love you,” you mumble against his lips.

Mingyu’s hands are pushing your body against his own, so flush and tight you can barely breathe. Like he’d rather die than bring space between the two of you in that moment.

“I love you, too,” he mumbled back between kisses. “I love you so much.”

Both of your hands are beginning to roam, less innocent than the fingers tangled in his hair and digging into his shoulders, less innocent than the grips on your hips and neck. It isn’t until his hands are groping your ass that you begin to subconsciously tug at his shirt, wanting the wretched thing out of the way to finally feel him in full.

There’s a warm hand that grips yours as he stops you, lips pulling away slightly as he rests his forehead against yours. There’s a wild moment of sobriety as you wonder if you’ve read the situation wrong, if you pushed too far.

“You’re asking me for something I’m ready to give you.” He sounds breathless. “But I need to know if you really want it.”

He looks absolutely gorgeous with his swollen lips, your lipstick staining his own mouth, his messy hair from all the desperate fingers running through them. It takes one look into his bedroom eyes to have your yeses tumbling out your mouth.

“I want it. I want it if you’ll give it to me. Mingyu, please.”

He leans in to give you a soft peck before pulling away slowly. “You can stop me whenever, just say the word.”

He’s facing you as he speaks, hands pulling you further into the house in slow and steady steps. “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, I promise.”

By the time you reach the four walls of his bedroom, you’re itching to have his hands on you again, something he senses as he presses his hot mouth to your awaiting lips. His touches become decreasingly respectful as his hands run up your sides, thumbs brushing against the sides of your clothed breasts as he moves his mouth further down.

Kisses line your jaw, reaching the joint as he nips at your earlobe teasingly. Pushing the coverup off of your shoulders is easy, fingers tracing the exposed skin as his mouth moves down to your neck, nipping and sucking teasingly. Your breathing is embarrassingly heavy.

“You’re gorgeous,” you hear him breathe out.

His fingers fit under the zipper of your dress not too long after, pulling it down to reveal your back tantalizingly slow. His hands smooth over your waist once he reaches the bottom, bringing them up to your upper body as you feel his palms grab your breasts in a soft squeeze. The moan you let out is small, but enough to encourage him to bring his hands to the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders one after the other.

“Do you realize how good you looked in this today,” he says. “Was so happy you came, so, so happy to see you after so long.”

Mingyu kisses you again in a slow, passionate manner, hands pushing down the tight fabric of the bodice to let it fall off your body to a pile on the floor. It leaves you bare save for your bra and panties.

Mingyu lets out a groan at the sight in the dimly lit room, the sound checking in as one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard, the vibrations leading straight to your core like they belonged there. The focus goes back to his hands that continue to roam your body, mouth traveling further south to leave hot, open mouthed kisses on your cleavage.

Your own fingers come up to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt, managing to pull a couple loose as you whine, “Mingyu.”

“Patience, my love.” He moves you backwards slowly as his mouth leaves your chest, pushing you into the plush of his mattress as you feel the back of your knees bump into the edge. “Let me take my time with you.”

He brings a knee up to the bed as he keeps his gaze on you, beginning to unbutton the rest of his shirt as you prop yourself up on your elbows. For once, you’re allowed to stare at the sculpt of his chest and abdomen, letting your gaze take you to the dipped V before the cut off. The mere sight of his fingers working against his belt have you needing to close your thighs for the sake of your now throbbing core.

Only clad in his dark boxers, you let him climb over you in a way you can only describe as a prowl, inserting himself between your legs as he pushes your head up to the headboard. The hand that splays out on your thigh is having the muscle twitch, the anticipation for what he might do next gripping you.

“Let me get this off of you,” he says with his hands toying with the elastic of your bra, prompting you to arch your back so he could reach under to unclasp it in a way you can only call professional.

There’s barely any time for you to feel a semblance of embarrassment when he flings the padding away, mouth coming in direct contact with your breast in a harsh suck. The feeling has you moaning his name into the dark room, only encouraging his wet tongue to circle around the bud before going back to suckling. He doesn’t forget your other breast as he brings his hand up to squeeze the mound and play with your nipples the same.

The sensations are overwhelming already, your hands gripping his hair in desperation as you throw your head back at his ministrations. The ache in your underwear is becoming increasingly difficult to resist, the foreign feeling of his mound against your inner thigh only coursing more want into your awaiting heat.

Your chest is a mess of redness and saliva but the time Mingyu’s had his fill, pulling away to admire the work he’s left.

“Fuck, Mingyu, please,” his name is the only thing that comes out in your pleas, hoping he’d give you wanted before you lost your mind for good.

“I love this lighting on you,” he says simply, moving to sit on his knees as he takes his eyes up and down your practically naked frame.

Both hands come in to push your thighs further apart, giving him better access to the gold that sits right in between. “You’re beautiful.”

You feel the pad of his thumb come in contact with your clit in the lightest pressure, slowly brushing over the muscle as he continues. “The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

He presses his thumb in further, pushing down to meet your hole, the source of the large wet patch on the fabric of panties. The whimpers the new feeling is having you let out are near embarrassing. Hooking his fingers around your panties, he asks, “Can I take these off?”

“Yes!” you gasp out immediately, hip rising to let them slide the pesky fabric off and away.

He wastes no time in bringing his fingers to your folds, gathering your arousal in his fingers as he spreads them across your throbbing clit. He’s rubbing the area in circular motions, the feeling having you wracking out sounds you never thought you could make. The sheets are bunched up in your grip as you throw your head back at the feeling that encases you, eyes screwed shut.

“Oh, Mingyu,”

That only encourages him as his other hand joins the party, a lone finger circling your entrance in preparation to plunge into you, slowly, all the way to the hilt of his finger. Zoning in on the feeling, the pump of his fingers into your core, the constant ministrations of his other thumb on your clit. Your hands leave his wrinkled sheets as they come in to grip his wrists and forearm, needing to feel his skin to anchor yourself into the present. Not being able to bring yourself to open your eyes, he takes it upon himself to insert another finger, encouraging your lids to fly open at the stretch and the loud moan that comes with it.

“God, you’re so fucking wet, I’m barely pushing.” It may have embarrassed you a little if you weren’t so withdrawn from pleasure, the prospect only having you whimper his name even more.

It isn’t when he curls his fingers inside you that you feel the need to stifle the sounds that come out of your throat, hand to mouth as the volume has you needing to shut yourself up. He brings his hand off your clit to grab you by the wrist, freeing your mouth of restraint.

“Don’t,” his voice gravelly as he gets off his knees to hover over you, his other hand continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you in perfect motions. “I wanna hear your voice. I wanna hear all the pretty sounds you’re making.”

He leans in to place a chaste kiss on your mouth, fingers quickening their pace as your sounds grow louder, “Mingyu, I think I’m…I think I’m close.”

“It’s okay, let go whenever, darling, it’s okay.” His other hand goes back to its rightful position on your clit, thumb circling the bud in quick motions as he encourages you to climax.

And you do. The blissful release comes crashing into you hard, the feeling leaving nothing but white hot space in the expanse of your brain, letting the feeling take over as you melt into the sheets. “F-fuck…”

He doesn’t stop either hand till you physically have to push his fingers off of you, the overstimulation coming in hot.

You don’t come around for a little bit, but feel every searing kiss he leaves on your skin in the aftermath. Pressed into your chest, your collarbones, you neck and your jaw. He makes his way up to your face slowly, pressing his lips onto your closed lids as you wait for your breathing to even out. His face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes, leaning forward to press your own lips against his.

“How was that?” he asks slowly, and you don’t miss the hint of a smirk on his face. You can’t help but break into a smile of your own.

“Great.”

“Great?”

“Amazing.” You lean in to kiss him again, palms coming in contact with the expanse of his back as you move your mouths together. It’s not long before your fingers reach the waistband of his boxers, hands coming up front to feel him through the fabric, palming him in the process.

You feel him shudder in your hold, lips pulling away as he stares into your eyes.

“What?” you ask in a whisper when he makes no other moves.

“I’m trying to think if I have condoms or not,” he whispers back, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at his delivery. He begins to giggle with you, backing up as he reaches over to rummage through his nightstand.

“Fuck yeah,” you hear him say as he comes round with the shiny pack. He’s giggling as he undoes the wrapper, the lighthearted nature of it all bringing a laugh to your own lips.

Pulling his underwear down and off, you watch as he preps himself with the rubber, your own hand coming up in a trance to stroke his gorgeous length lightly, his palms ghosting over your hand at the feeling. Once he decides he can’t take it anymore he’s grabbing both your wrists to pin them beside your head in one swift motion, earning a gasp from you at the abruptness.

“I’m gonna put the tip in first, let you adjust before I go in further,” he explains as he uses his knee to push your thighs apart to grant him more access. “I’m gonna listen to you throughout, okay? Just say so if you want me to stop, I’ll hear you.”

When you don’t reply he continues, “I need to know you heard me, baby.”

“I heard you,” you answer, and he finally lets go of one of your hands to guide his length to your entrance, gathering your remaining arousal. He’s sliding his tip across your folds, grinding onto your clit within his length and it has you nearly careening off the edge.

“Mingyu, in, please!” you beg, and you hear him chuckle before he’s finally pressing the tip into your prepped hole.

You almost breathe a sigh of relief as you feel him begin to push into your hot core, keeping his promise of only getting to the tip, before bringing himself out and going back in. He’s slow as he stretches you out, his hands coming up to the sides of your head as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. Lifting one of your legs, you wrap them around his waist as you grant him further access into you, one of his hands coming up to keep your raised leg steady.

He halts when he finally bottoms out, pausing for breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just,” you manage, arms wrapped around his shoulders tight. “Give me a second.”

When you give him the green light and he begins to move out slowly, only to thrust back in, you find yourself settling into the sheets more consciously, ready to take what he was about to finally give you. You’re both a mess of whimpers and sounds, the feeling overtaking any shreds of restraint you had left. His hands are groping you everywhere, his fingers finding your breasts again as he begins to toy with your nipples, all while thrusting into you at a steady yet equally maddening pace.

He feels amazing, beyond just his dick. The feeling of his body pressed against yours is heavenly, the tears beginning to slowly prick at your eyes as you let yourself melt into his hold, a metaphorical layer away from morphing into his skin entirely. The sounds he’s making are pure melodies, the groans, grunts and heavy moans floating around in your otherwise empty head like they’d never ever leave. They do more when they encourage the building feeling in your abdomen, your moans growing increasingly erratic.

If the bed is creaking from his incessant thrusting, you don’t hear it. The only thing ringing in your head being the near closure you’re about to receive from him. “Gyu, I’m…”

“Shit, me too.” he grunts, and you believe him as his movements begin to grow sloppier, his hips slamming into yours with more force than before.

And then it’s bliss, the feeling dropping in on your body as you feel yourself begin to spasm in his hold, the loudest moan ripping from your throat at the sensation. You’re contracting around him so, so good, and it’s enough to have him moaning into your own ear as he feels his climax come over him as well.

He’s shooting his load into the rubber, and for a wild moment you wish he’d rip it off and finish inside you instead, your blabbering brain wanting to take all of him in. The fever passes in a few heavy minutes, Mingyu’s body is dropped on top of you, his length remaining inside your warmth as you both relished in the post sex haze.

He’s first to pick his sweltering body off of yours, the cool air hitting your skin as he pulls out of you slowly. You’re still trying to come to earth, even when you hear the water beginning to run in the attached bathroom, even when he walks out in a fresh pair of boxers, walking over to your form on the bed.

His fingers run through your hair as he places soft kisses on your temple, coaxing you to open your eyes. “Come on babe. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

When you make no moves to get up despite opening your eyes, he’s physically pulling you up to grace your head on his chest in an effort to take a step back into the world. His fingers continue to thread through your hair, massaging your head lightly as you breathe in his scent. You do end up getting up and letting him lead you to the bathroom, but only after he threatens to carry you there over his shoulder. The bath is already drawn when you dip your feet into the warm water, planting yourself inside as you lean against the walls of the tub.

“Gyu, why is it warm?” you whine, wanting a cooler temperature to hit your sticky body.

He chuckles as he sits by the tub, hands coming in to wet your hair for you, “I’m scared your body’s gonna go into shock if I chucked you into a cold bath. You’ll feel better in a minute, love.”

You don’t argue as he does most of the work for you, shampooing, scrubbing and conditioning. He lets you sit in the tub for a little bit as he leaves to get you a towel and a shirt, coming back to continue coaxing you to leave the tub this time. You grab his outstretched hand, pulling him down to sit next to you again.

“Sit with me for a little bit, right here,” you say as you lean over the edge of the tub.

“I can sit with you in bed once you’re dried up,” he tries to reason. “Under the covers. Where it’s more comfortable than hard acrylic, remember?”

Pouting a little, you let him wrap you in a towel as you admit defeat, too tired to argue much more than that. He continues to shrug one of shirts over your shoulders, going as far as drying your hair before finally letting you crawl back under the covers. He joins you soon after, wrapping his limbs around you in a tight embrace, breathing in the mix of his own shampoo and your scent.

“Are you okay? Did I do too much?” he asks quietly.

“Mhm,” you hum into his chest. “I’m okay.”

There’s a deep vibration in his chest as he finds your lack of response amusing, looking at your face that looks about three seconds away from slipping into dreamland. Nearly, he realizes, as your eyes are suddenly pushed wide open, a gasp leaving your throat.

“What? What?” Mingyu asks as you sit up all of a sudden scrambling to find your phone.

“My phone, where is it?” you ask as you ruffle through the covers.

“Did you bring it with you?”

You suddenly remember your bag that you threw in his entryway a couple hours ago, your phone nestled inside. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you attempt to stand up to retrieve it, only to find out the universe wasn’t about to let you do that. You don’t miss Mingyu’s chortle as he watches you nearly fall over after wobbling around like a fawn, your arms trembling as you pull yourself up back on the bed.

“What the fuck?” you breathe out.

“Get back on, I’ll get your bag for you.” He’s still smiling when returns, throwing your purse on the bed.

You immediately unlock your phone to find Nayeon’s contact, choosing to leave her a text considering the late hour.

“What is it?” Mingyu asks again as he watches you type, arms coming up from behind to engulf you in his hold again.

“I told Seokmin I was at Nayeon’s. He didn’t believe me but I’m telling her to cover for me anyway.”

“Oh.”

The thought comes to you later than it should have, realizing you’d have to involve Seokmin in…whatever this was, sooner or later.

“Don’t,” you hear Mingyu say behind you.

“What?”

“Don’t. I know what you’re thinking about. We can deal with Seokmin when we need to, don’t think about it right now, that’s my job.”

“I-”

“He needs to deal with me being serious about you,” he continues, giggling, “Even if I have to make you run away with me.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

He brings your wrist up to his mouth, placing a kiss there, “It won’t. I promise.”

The sitting up thing doesn’t last for too long, both of you wanting nothing more than to lay down for the lack of energy. Limbs are a tangled mess as you both lay in silence, tired but not wanting to go to sleep just yet. It stays that way for a while, head on his chest as you take in the aftermath of everything that’s happened.

You just had sex with Kim Mingyu. He loves you back. And you know he means it. This isn’t a hyperrealistic childhood fantasy, this is real life. You’re touching him, he’s holding you, you can hear his heart beat, you can feel his skin under the palm of your hand.

You’re distracted from your thoughts as you sense Mingyu reaching over the edge of the bed to his nightstand as he looks for something, bringing his hand over to show you a very familiar pink cover in his hands.

“Oh,” you let out as you recognize the title, snorting as you remember where the verdict for that ended, “We were supposed to talk about the ending.”

“We could do that right now.”

“Uh, about that,” you say. “I never actually got to finish it.”

“You were supposed to be done like two weeks ago,” he frowns.

“I didn’t get to finish it the day…the day you came over. Couldn’t bring it in myself to touch it after that.” you say as you note the little tabs sticking out the sides, wanting to address them.

“You can use this one to finish it then, it’s yours.”

You glance up at him as he talks, opening the book to skim through the pages. And then you see it, tiny scribbles on margins, sticky notes at chapter ends with his thoughts, colorful tabs sticking out of every highlighted line, everything complete with a color coded key in the front.

“I saw you do it with your other books, found out it’s not actually a crime to write in books and…I guess it became fun.” he explains as he watches you flick through the pages. “I was gonna give this to you at some point. Sounded like a thoughtful idea in my head.”

You don’t answer him, simply facing him in silence before continuing, “I would’ve been sucking your dick right now if I wasn’t so tired.”

He throws his head back in a loud laugh, the high pitched noise sounding across the room as he nearly curls up from the hilarity. You don’t think it was that funny, but maybe it’s because you were telling the truth. You’re pretty sure you’ve joked about wanting to do that to someone who’d do something like this for you, perhaps you could find the transcripts hidden in some text messages with Nayeon later to show Mingyu.

His laughter is contagious regardless, giggles of your own coming out as you watch him practically lose it.

“I think you need to go to sleep,” you comment through bouts of laughter.

He sighs a vocal sigh as he calms down slowly, agreeing with your suggestion that the near morning delirium was getting to both of your heads. You rest your newly acquired, yet equally prized possession to the side, finally turning in for the night as he reaches to turn his night lamp off.

Mingyu moves to press his forehead into yours, not before placing a tiny peck into your lips as he mumbles against them in the dark, “I love you.”

“I love you,” you hum back as you press your lips together one last time, finally letting his breathing lull you into sleep.

The mattress is foreign, so is the pillow, and so are the scents that linger in the room. It’s colder than you’d usually have it and the blankets feel different on your skin. And despite the most foreign thing in the room, the one that has his arms and legs wrapped around you, the one that whispered his love for you into your skin before drifting off, you find yourself falling into a sleep that’s more blissful than any you’ve had in a very, very long time.

The sun is doing nothing to help itself against the tide of annoyance tht rises in your sleepy state. You’d get up and yank the curtains but can’t bring yourself to have the motivation to leave the soft mattress, simply bunching the blanket up to your face to block out the remnants of sun rays that invade the room. You’ve nearly lulled yourself back to sleep when you start registering noises coming from outside the bedroom walls, muffled yet familiar.

Your brother is talking about something you can’t make out, Seokmin’s voice is undeniable despite passing through the folded layers of comforters around your head. You don’t doubt the presence of the sweat that’s probably already accumulated on your scalp.

There’s nothing that alarms you in the moment despite Seokmin’s yapping — that is until you hear a second voice.

You recognize it immediately as the sound of Mingyu’s talking, the words equally as muffled yet the intonation clear all the same.

Kicking the sheets off of your overheating body, you squint as you open your eyes in a desperate attempt to reign yourself back to earth, recollections of the past twenty four hours hurtling back to you like a constant line of K.O’s.

The gallery, the picture, the drive up to Mingyu’s place,the sex, the falling asleep in his arms. You sit up in Mingyu’s bed, clad in nothing but his own T-shirt as you realize your brother is downstairs talking to Mingyu, and you have no idea if he knows you're here.

You realize very quickly that you’re trapped, being left with no other option than to remain in Mingyu’s bedroom until he comes back up to give you the clear, despite wanting to walk out to take the tiniest peek. You’re not sure what’s worse, getting caught or sitting in the growing pool of anxiety before Mingyu gets back.

It’s a long, long twenty minutes, in which you’ve done just about everything to get to hear their conversation a bit better; or to distract yourself from the fact that it’s happening at all. Pressing your ear to the door before going back to make the bed. Freshening up in the bathroom before going back to jamming your eye into the keyhole (you aren’t sure why considering door faces a plain wall). You even hijacked a spare cup Mingyu had lying around the room to stick into the wall, hoping all those Mr. Bean cartoons hadn’t been lying to you.

They were simply talking in a tone too low for your ears to catch (despite the Mr. Bean hack), and you resorted to scrolling on your phone to pass the remaining time. It’s catastrophic to say the least, when you’re met with a string of frantic messages from Nayeon as well as a couple missed calls from your brother.

[Nayeon]: fuck [Nayeon]: i didnt see this [Nayeon]: he called this morning asking about you [Nayeon]: i accidentally told him you werent here [Nayeon]: im so sorry where are you [You]: its okay its my fault for texting so late [You]: i was at mingyus place [You]: ill tell you more later [Nayeon]: WHAT???

By the time Mingyu walks in, he’s mildly surprised to see you awake, pausing at the door as he takes in your huddled form. You sit up immediately, noting his still messy hair and the backwards sweatshirt he’s thrown on over his boxers. The question tumbles out of your lips before you can help it, “Was that Seokmin?”

“Good morning to you too,” he grumbles sarcastically, coming up on the bed to join you in your huddle fest. You’re a little embarrassed at the way you’ve greeted him first thing when he sees you, but his expression when he continues replaces it with something akin to fear. “And yeah, it was him.”

You want to ask him a follow up question, but you aren’t sure what to say, simply staring at him, hoping he’d get the hint and continue by himself. He does.

“The idiot has a spare key so he just…” He trails off, rubbing his hands on his face, “he just walked in straight to the room. Got the shock of his life, I suppose, ‘cause it woke me up while you kept snoring.”

“He walked into the room?!” you nearly screech, hand clamped over mouth, horrified. “What did he say to you?”

Mingyu has the audacity to laugh, simply tugging you back down on the bed to hold you. You briefly wonder how he’s so casual about this. “There’s not really an expected reaction from someone when they find you half naked in bed with their sister.”

The haphazardly shoved sweatshirt and no pants look was starting to make sense. “I heard you talking downstairs, what were you talking about?”

“Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about,” his lips graze the shell of your ear as he snuggles further into you. “He wants you home by seven though.”

You throw your head back in a whine, “God, what am I gonna do?”

“You’ll be fine, he didn’t smack me, he can’t possibly be that mad at you.”

“What was he then, ecstatic?” you retort.

“I mean,” his energy shifts a little. “I think he’s just a little hurt that he wasn’t told.”

“So you’ve done your damage control and now I need to pray he doesn’t disown me.”

“God, you’re being so negative,” he comments and you can’t help but round up on him.

“And you’re acting like you don’t care!”

He’s planting a fat kiss on your cheek at your outburst, coming in to coddle you even more. “I’m kidding, I just want you to relax, don’t be upset.”

“Has he given you his verdict yet?” you ask quietly.

He sighs at the question and you can’t imagine his answer being any good. “Not yet, pretty up in the air about it.”

When he sees you deflate even more in his arms, he continues, “I’m sure he’s gonna come around, he loves you too much to not. It’s just a matter of time while he gets to make sense of the situation, don’t worry about it.”

“I hope so,” you reply.

“We might have wash his socks for the next five years once he does, but it’s okay.”

You can’t help but snort at the prospect, “His feet are stinkier than the regular human’s, are you sure about that?”

He grins, “I’d do it for you.”

You push his face away, rolling your eyes at his attempt to be sappy. “You’re gonna keep me for five years?”

His smile drops as you feel the atmosphere shift in the slightest, his presence moving impossibly closer to you. “I’m gonna keep you forever.”

Hearing it is enough to have you lurching forward, closing the final gap between you so you can give in to the urge to kiss him. He’s enthusiastic to give back, pulling your body to face him entirely as you mumble between kisses, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

The rest of the day (once your anxiety’s calmed down, at least) is spent loitering around each other as you migrate around the house in random excess. He makes you breakfast, and you need to physically restrain him to stop feeding you every bite of pancake and bacon. You let him make your favourite for lunch though, after you finally admitted how much you truly liked his Chow Mein, going as far as to run to the store to grab the stuff he was missing. He returns with a bag of groceries, not missing an abnormal amount of moonpie value packs that he stashes in his cabinets because “you’re gonna be around all the time”.

6:30 rolls around quicker than either of you would have liked, needing to wiggle out of Mingyu’s hold on his couch to change out of your half naked state. He continues to delay you another ten minutes as he refuses to open his car door to let you walk into the apartment building, leaning over the console to continue mumbling whines between your own consoling kisses.

By the time you’re making the walk of shame up to your door, the pit of anxiety that began to brew this morning returns from its dormancy, no Mingyu here to help ease your nerves, Gripping your key tight in your hands, you brace yourself to jam and twist to finally end this matter once and for all (at least you hope you can).

Seokmin is waiting on the couch for arrival like a parent waiting to catch their child in the act. He briefly glances over at you as you whisper a tame “Hi”, slipping off your shoes. He doesn’t reply as he merely grabs the remote to pause his show, casting a heightened awkward atmosphere at the silence that’s now engulfing the room. You tread carefully over to the couch, where Seokmin sits with his arms crossed.

It takes one look at his face for you to suddenly want to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. He didn’t look angry, and perhaps you would’ve preferred his aggression if it didn’t mean having to look at a hurt Seokmin. You sit in silence for a couple dramatic minutes, hoping he would start talking so you wouldn’t have to. Yet, when you realize you might have to say something anyway for fear of crushing under the pressure, you find yourself opening your mouth.

“Are you upset?” Of course, he’s upset, you idiot.

“I just–” he starts, before sighing. “I just wish one of you would’ve told me what was going on.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you reply. “I didn’t want either of you to have an excuse to be upset with each other, so I just…”

“I get that it was a recent thing but I think I deserved as much to know what was happening when I wasn’t around.”

You wince as speaks, realizing he hasn’t caught on to the fact that this isn’t recent at all — for you at least. “Um, about that…”

“What? There’s more?” he scoffs.

“I, uh…I’ve liked him since like fifth grade—” He’s immediately jaw dropped, eyes bulged, taking a sharp breath. “But! In my defense, it was really obvious—it’s honestly your fault for not noticing.”

‘My–My fault?!” he sputters. “That’s like, forever, and you told me nothing? Mingyu told me this was recent, why did he lie?”

“He didn’t, nothing happened till last night, I swear.” You cringe at what you’re entailing. “It was just me that liked him for that long, he figured it out pretty early on but…”

“He’s finally reciprocating now?” he suggests, almost sarcastically.

“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly.

“This is insane,” he blows out a breath of air, massaging his temples.

“I’m not being stupid about him,” you mutter lowly, “This isn’t some puppy dog crush, especially not after so long.”

He’s silent.

“I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think I’m jumping into this blind, especially for what it means for you too.”

No response.

“I’m sorry that you had to find out like this, it’s really not how I wanted it to go.” And when you’re met with even more silence, you find yourself continuing. “Please, talk to me. Cuss me out if you want, I’d honestly rather you yell at me.”

Seokmin sighs for the near hundredth time, finally looking like he might say something. “I want you to listen to me very carefully.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, mind immediately going to the worst. Was he going to ask you to break up with him?

“I’m gonna choose to trust the both of you on this,” he starts, and you nearly melt into the cushions, “It’s your life, you can date whoever you want. And…I guess Mingyu is better than someone else. Probably uses bad hair gel though.”

You’re catapulting yourself off the couch at the sound of that, throwing yourself onto an unassuming Seokmin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“OW! Okay! Geez, get off,” he grumbles as he finally stops wrestling you to let go of him, hugging you back as you squeeze his shoulders tight.

“I promise I won’t keep anything like this from you again.”

“You better not,” he huffs as you let go of him, “Don’t think this means you’re forgiven. You still have a lot to tell me.”

“I promise I won’t leave out a thing.”

The following weeks are near bliss, following your very loud confrontation with Nayeon when she gets back from her summer vacation, her screams at every plot turn having you praying for her neighbors. You doubt she believed you despite everything, not until she physically sees Mingyu come in one day, making a beeline to peck you on the lips before greeting anyone else. Her dropped jaw was very telling.

Even now, as Mingyu sports the title of the lame alumnus that still hangs around campus as he grips your hand, walking through the grass, the double takes you’re receiving seem to be traveling quite fast. You wouldn’t necessarily blame them considering the trickier than usual dynamic you sport due to your brother (and you guess due to his reputation as well).

But you also knew they’d be quick to die out as the newer batches of students come flying in — Mingyu will soon become a very well kept secret, in one way if not the other.

His neighbors, however, must be wishing he had the same sentiment as well, considering the absolutely foul noises that are coming from his apartment.

You’re learning very quickly that Mingyu’s innocent touchiness can turn into something of the opposite at any given time, exhibit A being now as you try your damn hardest to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth as Mingyu works his own mouth on your cunt. The knees over his shoulders are shivering from the expense, fingers pumping into your hole as he rubbed a particular spot with his tongue that had you gripping onto his hair tight.

As much as Mingyu loves to hear you, you find his other hand being brought up to place two fingers in your mouth for you as the perfect pacifier, sounds limiting extensively.

By the time you’re coming undone, sprawled on his couch like you just ran a marathon, you’re quick to realize that he has no intention of letting you have a breather. It takes one shove for him to pull his pulsing length out of his pants, tip pushing into your still sopping hole as he invited all of him inside you.

You’ll never forget the first time Mingyu fucked you raw, right after you told him he had the green light after taking your birth control pills. It was magic, you’ve never seen him this vocal as he finished inside you nearly four times in a single night. His moans remain loud even still, as he brings your thighs to press over your chest, basically folding you in half. The mere sound of your wetness as he pumps in and out of you is enough to have you nearly careening over the edge, especially when you feel a desperate hand reach out to rub fast circles on your clit.

You throw your head back as you cum for the second time, pulsing around him in a grip Mingyu can’t believe has the ability to become tighter. It’s enough for him though, as he leans his forehead against your chest as he releases himself inside you.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it, watching you filled to the brim with his cum, even as it drips onto the blankets you’ve laid down below. He has half a mind to stuff the liquid back inside you, but fears you’re tired enough, the overstimulation too much for you.

By the time you’ve cleaned up and resumed the movie you should’ve been done with hours ago, cuddled impossibly close to him, you find yourself remembering something quite out of the blue.

“Hey, not that I really care anymore,” you start, “But who were the guys you were talking to that day? From the party.”

“Stopped hanging out with them ages ago,” Mingyu scoffs, face souring at the mention of them. “I mean, it was me who said all that bullshit, but they weren’t exactly good influences either. Learned that pretty quick.”

“Oh,” you reply simply, letting your head fall back onto his chest.

He doesn’t seem to be having any of it, grabbing your chin to have you face him. “I’m still really sorry about that. I don’t care if you chase my tail for another fifty years, it’ll always be adorable.”

“Forgave you a long time ago, but I think I have a condition now.”

He quirks a brow at your words. “What does her Highness ask of me?”

“That you chase my tail for another fifteen to make up for all the running I’ve done.”

He’s laughing at that, agreeing to your condition as places loving smooches all over your face. “Consider it done.”

It’s later on in the night, both of you huddled in ratty hoodies and mismatched slippers, plastic bag crinkling along Mingyu’s arm as you giggle about something he said. You’re enjoying your fudgsicle in the peace and serenity of the 1 AM hour, making your trek home after raiding the corner store down the block. Mingyu suddenly halts in his tracks as he sees a particularly pretty set of flowers, illuminated by the fluorescent street lights.

“Babe, babe, stand here let me take a picture of you.”

“What?” you frown, holding up your stick of iced chocolate. “I’m not done yet.”

You watch as he grabs the melting popsicle from your hand downing the entire thing in one go as you watch him, hand still outstretched and jaw dropped. “Mingyu, you bitch!”

He only smiles as he mulls the chocolate in his mouth, words basically gibberish, “‘ere’s more in the ba’, now go stan'!”

You huff as you trudge to where he was asking you to pose, throwing a couple peace signs to satiate the home video urges in him so you could rip open your second fudgsicle.

“Wait! You got a little chocolate on your mouth.” he announces, and you stick your tongue out to lick past the remnants of the sweetness. “No— wait.”

He walks over to you as your still trying to find the spot you missed, unassuming as he swings into your face to kiss the remaining off. “Oh, nevermind, it was nothing.”

You push him off as heat crawls up your face, feigning annoyance at his antics. You decide to forgive him when rips open another fudgsicle for you, offering it with both hands, promising to not steal a single lick. You believe him, snatching the stick from him as you continue your trek home.

It’s not until he’s attempting to send you the pictures he just took to your phone so you could post them (which, with the way you looked, fat chance) that he notices something in your albums.

“Oh, are these grad photos?” he asks as he clicks the album open.

“Mhm,” you hum not paying too much attention as you walked and ate.

“Why’s there only one picture here?” he asks as he pulls up to find nothing more left to load.

It’s only then that you bring your full attention to your phone in his hand as you realize what picture he’s talking about, “Oh god, don’t look at that one.”

He does the obvious thing and opens it anyway, a louder than necessary “aw” coming out his mouth. “Why do you look like I’m about to eat you?”

“It felt like it!” you whine, remembering the moment clear as day. “They kept pestering me to take a picture with you too, I was tryna book it out of there at first chance.”

He giggles as he zooms into the photo, “I’m sending this to myself.”

You groan loudly at the thought, “God, just delete it, leave it alone.”

He tucks the phone into himself further, not letting you grab it. “No, you’re not deleting it. Why do you have it tucked into a separate folder if you hate it so much.”

He’s got you there, you realize quickly, and he reigns in his victory as he watches you grimace at the phone slightly, adding on, “it has a lot of feelings attached to it, I get it. But look, we can attach new feelings to it, now you’ll think about right now the next time you see it.”

“Think about you hijacking my fudgsicles? I think I prefer heartbreak,” you say, bringing your half eaten pop closer to your body in case he tries anything.

You’re deemed correct when he replies, motioning towards your concealed treat, “Careful, I can still pounce when you’re not looking.”

Shoving your hands into the swinging bag hanging on Mingyu’s arm, you bring out a thing of sausage and shove it towards him, “You leave me and my fudgsicle alone, go be lousy and suck on this or whatever.”

“You’d know alot about that, wouldn’t you?” he notes casually, grabbing the sausage anyway as he unwraps it to take a bite.

It takes you a second to realize what he’s talking about while he stares at you with a mischievous expression, coming to shove him when the innuendo finally registers in your head. You do the opposite this time, pointing the melting chocolate toward him instead, threatening to smear it all over his white hoodie.

He laughs at the sight, disarming you by simply moving your wrist away, coming to kiss you on the mouth hard regardless of your annoyed expression.

“Love ya’” he giggles.

“Hm.”

“What, hm? Say it back.”

You pretend to wonder, “I don’t think so.”

“Say it!” he groans, “Say it, say it!”

You manage to wriggle out of his hold, booking it before he realises what’s happening.

“Hey!”

Your both probably waking up the entire neighborhood with how loud you’re yelling and laughing, and even when he manages to tackle you down on somebody’s lawn, coaxing the words out of you with borderline violence, you still manage to smile, thanking your lucky stars that you got what you wanted after all.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks with an undertone.

“Thanking my stars they led me to you,” you reply.

“More like the other way around. Needed the fattest fucking star to realize what was in front of me all along,” he jests himself.

It sparks a laugh out of you. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

3K notes · View notes

verstappen-cult · 3 months

Note

okay but why do I feel like this is just 100% max? 😭 like he’s so grrrr to everyone else but when y/n is around he’s an actual golden retriever puppy even if he tries to hide it

AAA I LOVE YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS! i was actually thinking about this last night, because it has max’s name written all over it and i can picture it like—

Max is known to be a very blunt person, someone who can get frustrated pretty easily, everyone knows that. I mean, he has a reputation. But once you came into his life, a new version of Max appeared.

He just can’t say no to you. You literally are his weakness, with your big, round eyes and pretty smile always making him feel butterflies in his belly, like a teenager with sweaty hands and an embarrassing crush. Max has even found himself stuttering more than one time.

When you’re not around, he’s like a lost puppy. But when you are, and you look at him, is like the sky opens up making everything be just right. It’s so fucking corny and he would never, in a million years, admit something like that out loud.

Just like right now.

Max is angry and frustrated, deep in an argument with GP — gesturing with his hands as if his life depends on it — when you approach him.

“Hey,” You say, unaware of what’s happening between them.

“Hey, baby.” Max turns around, a smile plastered on his pretty face.

GP sees Max’s face light up at seeing you.

He turns into a completely different person from one second to the other. It’s laughable, really.

“You know who I just saw?!” You’re almost hopping on one leg of how happy you are. He smiles, because he loves to see you happy. “Taylor Swift! Max, the Taylor Swift is here, she’s actually in Ferrari’s hospitality.”

“Did you talk to her?” Max asks you, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him because why are you so far away? He needs to be touching you at all times.

“Well, no. I wanted to but I don’t want to make a fool of myself, so, I need you to come with me.” You say, very serious.

“Baby, I won’t go to Ferrari's hospitality. They will probably think I’m trying to steal something.” Max laughs, looking at GP very briefly only to see him holding his laughter as much as he can.

“But, Max!” You pout, already putting your signature ‘look at this face, you can’t say no to this face’ face.

“Max, we need to finish with these papers.” His friend reminds him, but Max couldn’t care less at this moment.

“Yeah, well, just give me a couple of minutes. I’ll find you later.”

Max really, really needs to finish his talk with GP, it’s important because tomorrow’s the race and there are so many things wrong with the car, but he lets you drag him away. GP’s laugh can be heard around the paddock, people actually turn around to see what’s happening. Max just gives him the finger and follows you to Ferrari’s hospitality to meet Taylor Swift, shooting death glares at anyone who dares to look at him.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you

1K notes · View notes

jiniretracha · 4 months

Text

I Don't Want You Like a Best Friend - Lee Felix

Pairing: Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: smut!!, fluff (like so much), angst (if you squint), felix and readers being oblivious idiots in love.

Summary: You have been in love with Felix, your best friend, since the first time you laid your eyes on him. But you never said anything about it, too afraid to ruin your friendship that you treasured so much. So, when a pretty boy asks you out on a date, you accept, figuring it is the best way to get over your stupid crush. But your best friend doesn't seem so happy about it. Based on "Dress" by Taylor Swift.

Word Count: 6k

PS: I uploaded this on AO3 and thought it'd be fun to post it here as well!

MASTERLIST

There’s an indentation in the shape of you

“And? What do you think?”

Felix lifted his head up as he heard you walking inside the room once again wearing the dress. His eyes widened and his heart started beating faster and louder. His gaze raked your body up and down a couple of times and he tried to play nonchalant.

“U-uh, you look very pretty, Y/N. He’ll love it” Felix smile.

Yes. He’ll love it.

Truth is, you had met this cute guy at the coffee shop you and Felix frequently visit before you drop him at the studio every day. His name was Ashton. He had a charming smile and he had been brave enough to ask you for your phone number while complimenting your looks. You were almost a stuttering mess while you typed in your number in his phone, then he winked and left the coffee shop, leaving you with a slight blush in your cheeks.

Felix had returned to you with both of your orders with a smile. You told him about Ashton and he had promised he would help you with him. Later that day, he asked you out on a date. Today’s date.

You turned around and looked at yourself in the mirror, you liked the dress. It was a pretty cream colour with little flowers on it, a heart-like cleavage and lace on the pretty top.

You were oblivious to Felix’s adoring eyes behind you. He was trying to memorize every single detail of your beautiful form. The heavy stone in his stomach was a bother, it was pure jealousy. And sadness too.

He would’ve given anything to be the one who takes you on dates.

“Thank you, Lix” you smiled at him. “Could you pass me those earrings please?”

“Of course, darling” he said, standing up and walking towards your nightstand. He came back with the earrings and gave them to you, as you smiled and thanked him.

As you put the earrings on your earlobes, you started thinking. How would you like for Felix to be the one who is taking you on this date. You would love to be with him. It’s the only thing you’ve yearned and craved for years. You’d give up anything for Felix to crumble into his knees and beg you not to go.

To stay with him. To be with him.

You sighed as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You noticed that he hadn’t stopped staring at you. Why doesn’t he say something?

You turned to look at him and your gazes met. His breathing turned a little choppy, from the nervousness. He pressed his lips together, like he was about to say something and your eyebrows arched in desperation.

“I-“

And then your phone started ringing. You clenched your eyelids and grabbed your phone that was sitting face up on the bed, making Felix catch who was calling: Ashton.

“Hey” you said after clearing your throat.

“Hey, Y/N” Ashton said. Felix frowned. No ‘pretty’, no ‘beautiful’, just Y/N. “I’m right outside, would you mind coming down?”

“Of course. Give me a couple of minutes” you faked a smile. He caught it.

All of this silence and patience,

pining and anticipation

You got to the door and grabbed the keys. “I don’t even know why I’m nervous” you tried to shake off the anxiety lurking in your head.

But Felix could read you like a fucking book.

You weren’t nervous.

You were aching. He knew you didn’t want to go. But why couldn’t he just say something?

“I- Y/N-“ he stammered.

You looked into his eyes. “Yes?”

“I- I just-“

Ashton’s honk made you both startle. “What’s up?” you said impatiently.

“N-nothing. Have a great time. Ashton’s really lucky” he said, giving you his signature tight-lipped smile and walking towards his room.

You sighed as soon as he was out of view and pressed your eyes shut tightly, praying not to cry or else you would ruin your makeup. Or give yourself away. You opened the door and walked the steps of the stairs down.

Felix locked himself in his room, his fists clenched against his sides as his back pressed itself to the door. He was so angry at himself.

When did he become such a coward?

He heard commotion outside, from the open window of the balcony. He walked outside, and looked down. He saw Ashton, who had dark black hair, was big and bulky and was wearing formal clothes.

Ashton was the total opposite as him. Felix had blonde hair, brown eyes and he liked to use beanies and wear baggy clothes with jewelry.

Felix noticed that Ashton’s hands were empty. No flowers.

He rolled his eyes. He just wished you would notice that he wasn’t right for you. Because what was right for you, was standing right above you.

Staring hopelessly as you drove away.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You arrived at the restaurant and Ashton led you towards the table he had reserved.

“You like pizza, right?” he asked with a smile, as he sat down on his seat.

With a blink of your eyes, you just stood staring at him. You were waiting for him to pull your chair out and help you in. Felix does that. You mentally rolled your eyes and smiled at him. “Yes, yes, I do” you slightly lied as you took a seat. It’s not that you didn’t like pizza… it’s just that it would’ve been nice if he’d ask you what you like. Felix would’ve- STOP.

You scolded yourself mentally and tried to focus on the man in front of you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“So, what music do you like?” Ashton asked.

You put your glass down and smiled. “Oh, well, I’m into pop music, mostly. I like k-pop, too. A lot” you nodded. “My best friend’s in-“ you stopped yourself.

“He’s…?” he trailed off waiting for you to continue.

“He’s in a band”

“A k-pop band?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing with a smile.

“Yeah. They’re great, actually” you smiled. “What do you listen to?”

Ashton sighed. “Well, I’m into country music”

“Oh, like… what? Taylor Swift, Shania Twain, Little Big Town?” you asked, remembering a couple of bands and singers you liked.

“Nah, they sound too pop for me” he nodded with a shrug. “I’m more into Morgan Wallen”

Yikes.

“Right” you trailed off.

“He’s great. You should listen to his music, actually”

I pass. “Yeah, sure. I’ll listen to some of his stuff” you faked a promise.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him. Every little thing he said or did, you compared it to what Felix did. He was so different from him.

Ashton kept talking and you couldn’t help but wander your eyes around his features. He was so different. He wasn’t ugly. Not at all. He was very handsome. You knew that you could easily date this guy. He was sweet. But he was nothing like him. He wasn’t Felix.

“Hey, you okay?” Ashton woke you up from your daydreaming by putting his palm on top of the back of your hand. “You look like you were gone for a couple of seconds” he chuckled.

You smiled slightly at him and then shook your head. “Y-yeah, it’s just uh-“

“Here you go, guys” the waiter came with their order. “A margherita with garlic” he said and placed the pizza in the middle of the table.

“Thank you” Ashton nodded.

Once the waiter was gone, Ashton smiled.

“Shall we?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Felix was staring at his phone.

He was busy texting Chan, who was the only person that he had confessed his feelings towards you. The other band members were aware, because Felix made it too obvious, but the blonde hadn’t said anything to them.

Felix: I don’t know what to do, man.

Chan: Why didn’t you try to stop her?

Exactly. Why didn’t he try to stop her?

The answer was pretty simple.

Felix: Because I’m a coward.

Felix: That’s why.

He sighed, staring at the ceiling. It was eating him up.

Chan: You’re not. But seriously, you need to tell her, man.

He’s right.

Chan: Or else, when will you do it? What if Y/N really likes the guy and decides to pursue a romantic relationship with him?

Shit.

What if you really liked this dude?

Chan: Think about it.

He really needed you home.

He needed to tell you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You chewed on the pizza while Ashton was telling you an anecdote from one of his friends. You had lost the story’s thread a long time ago and at this point, you were just staring at his forehead with only one thing in mind: getting home to Felix.

“Y/N?” he asked with a frown.

Shit. This was like the third time you had zoned out.

“Hey, are you okay? I promise I won’t get mad, but is there something going on?”

You bit your lip and then released it. “No- I mean, yes” you stammered.

“What is it? Do you feel okay, do you-“

“No, Ashton, just-“ you cut yourself off with a huff. “I need to go home”

“Oh-“

“By myself” you clarified when you saw him start to grab his stuff. “I’m so sorry, really. You seem like a very good guy but-“

“You like someone else, am I right?” Ashton smiled sadly.

You pressed your lips together. “No.”

Ashton nodded. “You love someone else”

He wasn’t asking. It was a statement.

And then you nodded.

“I get it. I do, too” Ashton said, his face red. “I- I’m sorry too. I used this excuse of a date to get over someone. And I’ve been trying so hard but-“

“You just can’t get them out of your head” you completed.

“Exactly” Ashton said with a chuckle.

“I know” you smiled. “I’m sorry”

“No, don’t apologise. I figured” he shrugged.

“At least let me pay. I mean, you really tried to be nice and I just kept zoning out” You tried.

“It’s okay, Y/N, I promise”

“No, it’s not. Really” you pleaded.

Ashton smiled. “Alright. But only if we split the check… and I get to take the pizza home” he smirked.

You chuckled. “You got yourself a deal, mister”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Felix opened the kitchen cabinet and took out the brownie jar, leaving it on the counter. He then stared at it.

You made your mark on me,

a golden tattoo

You were everywhere. Including in that stupid jar of brownies. It reminded him how he had made them for you. Because he knew you absolutely loved his baking.

A key digging into the keyhole startled him and he put the jar away, choosing not to eat due to the heavy anxiety sitting at the pit of his tummy.

You got inside the apartment, panting heavily.

His eyebrows furrowed as he saw you close the door quickly and throw your stuff on the couch. “Hey, you’re home early. Everything okay?” he asked, getting worried.

“I know… I’m fine” you said, getting nervous all of a sudden.

Felix nodded, leaning against the counter. “How did it go?” he asked shyly.

You sighed and looked away. “Um… terrible” you chuckled to yourself.

Felix felt ashamed, but he was kind of glad to hear that. “Oh. I’m- I’m sorry to hear that, darling” he told you, lying.

“Well, I’m not” you said, feeling your heartbeat getting louder and faster by the second.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why’s that? Did he do something to you?” he asked, getting angry.

“No, no, no” you quickly shook your head. “He was nice, and… polite. But he wasn’t… he just wasn’t…” you stammered.

Felix started walking towards you. “Hey… tell me” he said, putting his hands on your bare shoulders. “He wasn’t what?”

You swallowed, feeling your throat getting dry, like sandpaper. “He just wasn’t you” you whispered.

But he caught it. He felt his heart drop. You couldn’t have just said that, did you?. “What?” he asked, confused.

You looked away and took in a deep breath. “I was just dressing up for someone that I wish that it was you… I wished you would’ve told me not to go on that date. To stop me. I wish the date I went on today… I wish my date had been you, Felix” you confessed.

He blinked a couple of times, trying to let the new information sink in, while his hands on your shoulders dropped to rest by his sides.

“I kept… comparing him to you” you told him. “Every single thing he did, I just kept thinking what you would’ve done. Or said. Or the things he didn’t do, and how I know you would’ve done. Like- fuck, like pulling my chair for me to sit in” you chuckled slightly. “Cause you’re in my mind all the time. You’re all I think about, Lix. And it drives me crazy”

Felix shook his head. “Y/N-“

“I know. I’m sorry” you apologized. “This is a lot. I know. And I get it if you don’t feel the same, I do-“

Your rambling was cut short when a pair of hands grabbed your cheeks and pulled you into the most magical kiss of your entire life. He was holding your head still, angling it so he could kiss you as he liked, pushing his tongue into your mouth, while it curled with yours. His kiss had swallowed your surprised gasp, turning into a moan that vibrated against his lips.

Felix pulled away from your mouth and pressed his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling together as you panted from the intensity of your first kiss.

“Y/N…” he mumbled in a desperate hush.

Say my name and everything just stops,

I don’t want you like a best friend

“I love you” he whispered, making you gasp internally. “I’ve always loved you, in fact. I was just- just so fucking terrified of you rejecting me and I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Felix… how is it possible that you didn’t notice how head over heels in love I am with you?” you asked him, with a chuckle.

Felix pressed a long kiss to your lips. “I love you” he said, looking into your eyes. “I-“ kiss. “love-“ kiss. “you-“ kiss. “so-“ kiss. “much” he finished with an open-mouthed kiss that made your knees wobble.

His kiss made you warm inside… and another place. You shifted, pressing your thighs together as he continued kissing the life out of you.

With a pant, you pulled away slightly, your noses rubbing against each other’s. “Lix…”

“Yeah?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Take me to bed” you whispered.

He pulled his face back with a pained groan. “Y/N, I want to, I swear but… I wanna do this right. I want to take you out on a date and-”

“Me too, I know, but I need you right now. So bad” you pleaded, your eyes searching his.

Felix was only human. He couldn’t resist such temptation, and the fact that you were literally begging him to fuck you. He saw it in your eyes.

He took you by surprise by crouching down slightly, placing his palms on the back of your thighs and hoisting you up, making you squeal in surprise. You crossed your legs behind his back and pressed your lips against his as he walked with you in his arms towards his bedroom.

You didn’t know how he managed to walk with you in his arms while kissing him without bumping into anything. He kicked the door open and walked towards the bed, throwing you into the center of it. You bounced on the mattress with a surprised gasp and stared at him with doe eyes as his hand went to the back of the neck from his shirt, pulling it over his head, and throwing it on the floor.

Felix decided to give you a show and clenched his stomach, showcasing his very defined abs.

That motherfucker, you thought to yourself.

“See something you like?” he teased you, with a smirk, as he watched you stare deeply at his stomach.

Your eyes met his and you let your head fall onto your shoulder. “Oh, yeah, pretty much everything” you said, letting your eyes dance over his figure.

Felix smirked and moved his hand to the belt of his jeans, unfastening it torturously slow and throwing it where he had thrown the shirt before. He then crawled up to your shivering frame and put his hands on each side of your head, dipping his head to catch your lips into a drugging kiss.

Your hands grabbed at his back, trying to pull him to drop his weight on top of you and he obeyed, pressing his hips first so that his bulge was pressing against your crotch, making both of you groan. Your nails dug into his back as you continued kissing, definitely marking him up.

His hands traveled to the edge of your dress, his hands dipping under it and caressing your soft skin. His kisses drifted to your neck, biting your soft flesh, making you gasp.

“You’re so beautiful” he mumbled against your skin. He licked at a certain spot in your neck and then bit it, making your arch your back. “So, so beautiful”

Suddenly, he pulled away completely, grabbing your arms to sit you up. He turned you around softly, making you kneel on the bed, facing the wall. His soft fingers caressed the zip of your dress, grabbing at it and slowly pulling it down all the way. His hands dipped inside of the dress and pulled it off, and he stared at your braless back. The dress was pooling at your waist by now and you swallowed, trying to find the courage to turn around and reveal yourself.

He dropped a kiss to the side of your neck, sensing your nervousness.

You turned around slowly, looking into his eyes, as his dropped down immediately to your chest, noticing how they were black at this point from lust.

You felt nervous under his gaze and you couldn’t help but say something.

“It’s for you…” you breathed out.

His eyes fluttered a couple of times and looked at you. “What?” he mumbled, confused.

“I bought it for you. The dress…” you said, licking your lips and trying to find the words that were threatening to die on your throat. “I wanted you to see me in it… I wanted you to take it off from me”

Only bought this dress so you could take it off.

Felix let out a ragged breath out, cupping your face and bringing you into another drugging kiss. His hot breath hitting your upper lip and the way his hands slid from your cheeks to your back, made you arch your back and press your bare chest against his. The skin to skin contact made you shiver and you both groaned.

Your hands were gripping his wrists, as he continued kissing you as he liked.

His hands drifted to where your dress was sitting, bunched on your waist, and he grabbed it, pulling it off.

The action made you stumble on the bed slowly on your back as you lifted your hips up so he could take off the dress completely.

Once he got it out, he chucked it on the floor and got on top of you once again. He dug his face into your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin, and his mouth started to drift further down your body. At this point, he was leaving dark purple marks on your skin, but you didn’t mind. Not one bit.

His hot mouth stopped at the valley of your breasts, his hands enveloping each one and letting his thumb run across your nipple, making you shudder and let out a whine.

Felix bit into your skin and then pressed your breasts together, burying his head into your chest, letting his lips suckle and bite at your nipples. Your hands carded through his hair and held him in place as his ministrations made you moan.

“Lix, please” you whined, pressing the back of your head against the pillow.

He suckled once and lifted his head to stare at you. “What? What do you want, baby?” he asked in a whisper.

“I- I just…”

“Use your words” he urged.

You swallowed and propped yourself on your elbows, staring at him with a soft panting. “I want you to go lower” you told him, trembling and slightly scared of his reaction.

You had asked him to do something that no one had done to you before.

He smirked and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, then pulled away to continue kissing his way down to your stomach. He bit at the skin close to your navel as his hands caressed your skin down to your thighs, opening them up.

Felix pressed a kiss to your pubic bone, over your panties, and then his fingers curled on the band of the lace, tugging them down your long legs torturously slow.

You got shy and nervous all of a sudden and pressed your thighs together. You felt a little stupid, knowing that you were the one that had asked him to do that. His hands grabbed your thighs and gently pulled them apart, sending you a wink and a little smile, reassuring you it was okay.

His gaze settled on your core and you blushed, feeling your face turn hot. Felix let his fingers dance your slit, collecting the wetness pooling there. He then pressed his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan.

With an animalistic groan, he dove his face into your core, dipping his fingers inside of you and sucking on your clit. Your back arched violently as your fingers gripped on his hair, pressing his head into your heat. You moaned in surprise and tugged on Felix’s hair, making him groan against your flesh. He liked that.

He scissored his fingers, dragging them against your walls.

“Yeah, just like that, Lix. Fuck” you moaned breathily.

His free hand caressed and gripped your thigh as he continued his ministrations. He pulled out his fingers and licked them clean, once again. Then, his tongue licked over your hole and pressed the tip of it inside of you.

“Fuck, I’m close, Lix” you said, continuing to grip his hair tightly, pressing him against your cunt.

His thumb rubbed tight circles on your clit, making your back arch and release your orgasm on his tongue with a long moan. You laid gasping, with your hands on your stomach as he pressed kisses on your shaking thighs and caressing your skin. “You okay, beautiful?” he asked, crawling towards you to press a kiss on your cheek.

You nodded, curling your arms around his neck and bringing him closer. His mouth went to kiss your neck once again, laying half of his weight on top of you.

“This is all I’ve wanted” he whispered against your neck, his deep voice vibrating against your skin making you shiver. Your fingers caressed the back of his neck, his words were making your heart beat louder. “All I’ve dreamed about” he whispered, kissing your flesh.

“God, me too” you whispered back. “You’re all I want”

Felix lifted his head and pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you”

“I love you” you said to him with a smile and kissed him, trying to show him all the love you held in your heart for him.

Inescapable, I’m not even going to try

And if I get burned, at least we were electrified

One of his hands made its way to your head, holding you in place while the other drew patterns on the skin of your waist, gripping it a little. He pulled away from the kiss, stared at your mouth and pressed two more kisses.

Your hands that were on his neck, made their way down to his jeans, unbuttoning them. “Take them off” you whispered against his mouth, kissing him again.

He pressed two more kisses to your mouth and lifted himself from on top of you to take his jeans, letting them drop on the floor as he stepped out of them.

The bulge in his boxers made you whimper and bit your lip. He saw your face and smirked, hooking his fingers in the waistband and pulling them down his legs, standing naked in front of you.

He crawled back on top of you, claiming your mouth in a kiss full of tongue and heavy breathing. You moaned, grabbing his arm with one hand and the other one pressed against his chest.

The hand on his chest drifted down to his pelvis, curling around his erection, making him groan and bite your lip.

“What- what are you doing?” he asked, pulling away from your mouth, his eyebrows furrowing and twisting in pleasure as your hand started moving up and down over his shaft, his thumb wiping his tip.

You smirked, sticking your tongue out and licking his lips sensually. “Returning the favor” you whispered hotly against his lips.

He let you continue for a few seconds before grabbing your wrist and pulling it away from his shaft. “Next time, okay? I wanna come inside of you” he said, kissing your cheek.

You nodded and smiled when he pressed more kisses to your cheeks. “Do you have a condom?” you asked.

He pulled away and stuck his arm out to his nightstand, pulling out a condom from the first drawer. Felix lifted himself up slightly, rolling the condom on his cock and then went back to his last position on top of you.

The head of his cock nudged your entrance, making you gasp and dig your nails on his shoulders. His nose brushed against yours as he slid inside of you, swallowing your gasp with a kiss.

He bottomed out, giving you a couple of seconds to adjust to his thick length. His hands were gripping the sheets tightly, trying to refrain from driving into you at a wild pace.

“Are you okay?” he asked, sounding kind of strangled.

“Yeah, yeah” you nodded breathily. “You can move”

“Fuck” he whispered, pressing his face against your neck and started to snap his hips against yours. “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby” he groaned.

You moaned with every thrust, your nails raking his back. “Oh, God, Lix” you gasped in a whine, feeling full and overwhelmed, in the best kind of way possible.

His hips were moving steadily as his mouth enveloped yours, trying to hold the urge to slam his hips against yours. One of his hands went to one of your breasts, gripping it tightly, his thumb sliding over your nipple, making you cry out.

“Lix, faster… please” you pleaded, and it was enough for him to grab your thigh, pulling it over his waist and fucking you deeper and faster, the sinful sound of skin slapping on skin invading the room in a constant echo. “God! Just like that” you continued whispering his name over and over, like a prayer.

“You’re so beautiful” he whispered against your lips before claiming your mouth with a kiss. “I love you. You’re the love of my life, Y/N. It’s always been you” he continued whispering against your lips, getting closer to the edge with every thrust.

“I’m yours… yours. All yours” you gasped when you felt his fingers starting to rub circles on your clit, trying to get you closer to your orgasm. “Lix- Lix, I’m close, so fucking close”

“Good, come with me, baby. I need you to come” he said, sticking his tongue out and licking your throat and then biting your skin, making you clench around him, finding the action super hot. “God, you’re so tight” he babbled.

You arched your back as you felt your orgasm rush through you in a hot wave across your body, making you moan and curl your fingers on his bicep, digging his nails against the skin.

Felix’s face fell to your neck as he thrust hard a couple of times before spilling inside the condom with a moan muffled against your skin. His body shook with aftershocks from the earth-shattering orgasm he just had as he felt his body go limp and fall against yours.

You wrapped your limbs around him, holding him tightly against you as you both tried to regain your breathing. Your hands caressed his back while your nose nuzzled against the shell of his ear.

Felix lifted his head up and looked down at her, his eyes searching yours. He then smiled, pressing his mouth against yours, his hand caressing your hair.

He pulled away and you saw the love in his eyes. How lucky you were.

You could live like this, knowing that there was so much love inside of him. For you. He loved you.

Yes, you were so lucky.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You threw your head back in laughter, holding your glass of wine as Felix made you laugh, telling some stupidity as you both felt the effects from the alcohol running through your veins.

You both decided to jump into the bath after two more rounds of passionate sex and treat yourselves with some wine.

“God, I don’t know how you dated her” you laughed. “She was so dumb”

“Yeah, I know” he nodded, looking away. “She- truth is, and I’m gonna sound like an asshole, but… I dated her because she looked like you” he said.

You pulled your face back in surprise. Felix had dated this bimbo named Julia a couple of months ago, and now that you recall her face, she did look like you.

“Wow” you giggled. “Yeah… she did”

Felix groaned, burying his face into the palm of his hand.

“Don’t be embarrassed” you told him, getting closer to him, placing your palm on his cheek, urging him to look at you with a nudge. “Hey, look at me” you said, and Felix slowly looked at you and you noticed the pretty blush sitting on his cheeks, giving his freckles a colorful background. “It’s alright, we’ve all had our moments to forget about someone. I mean, I cannot blame you. I literally just came from a date hours ago, one that I went to forget about you”

“Yeah, and look how that went” Felix said with a smirk.

“Oh, it went good” you smirked, climbing on top of him, with the glass in your hand. Your knee slid a little, making you stumble a bit and he grabbed your waist to steady you, the movement causing to make you spill some of the red liquid on the water.

“No! Careful” Felix laughed, making you laugh back.

“I almost slipped, I’m sorry” you chuckled, leaving the glass on the floor and curling your arms around his neck.

You two stared at each other and you felt his wet, warm hands sliding over your back in a sweet caress. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” he said, pressing kisses on your face. “Ethereal, I swear to God” he whispered, making you bite your lip.

“Are you even real?” you whispered. “I think I’m just imagining you”

Felix made a movement with his pelvis, making his hard on nudge against your core. “Do you think that’s fake?” he asked, his deep voice making you clench around nothing.

You gasped, your nails digging into his back. “No… no, that’s definitely real” you gasped.

I’m spilling wine in the bathtub

You kiss my face and we’re both drunk

Everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You looked at yourself in the mirror after finishing the last touches of blush on your cheeks. Your fingers glided over the pretty dress that you had bought. For him. For the right person.

Your person.

A vibration made you look down to the phone laying on the bathroom counter.

Felix: You ready, my love?

You giggled at the message, feeling like a little kid. You quickly replied, telling him that you were going and left the bathroom, putting your stuff inside your purse.

Sliding your shoes on your feet, you felt your heart starting to beat faster in nervousness, but in excitement as well.

This was going to be the best date ever. Not because of what you were doing. But because of who you were going with.

You opened the door of your bedroom and saw him standing there with a nervous smile and a bouquet of flowers in his hands. Your favourite flowers.

With a gasp, your hands flew to cover your mouth.

“Baby” you whispered, extending your hands to grab the bouquet. “Oh my God, I don’t know what to say. They’re so beautiful”

Felix smiled in pride, seeing your face and how it lit up when you saw the flowers. “Do you like them?” he asked, getting a little shy.

“Like them?” you gasped with a smile. “I love them, honey. I love you” you said, curling your free arm around his neck and bringing him into a passionate kiss.

HIs hands fell to your waist, pulling you closer against him.

“I love you” you whispered again into his lips.

“I love you” he whispered back. “So, so much”

As he continued to press kisses into your mouth, you started to wonder: how were you deserving of such a wonderful man? So attentive, so caring and thoughtful.

“I don’t deserve you” you let it slip up.

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed, pulling his face back, getting serious out of a sudden. “Don’t say that” he whispered. “Of course you do. We deserve each other. We deserve to be with each other after so much waiting. After so much pining” he said, caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers.

You looked at him, tears pooling in your eyes.

“Hey, no, don’t cry” he said with a smile, making you mirror his expression, letting out a laugh as a single tear rolled down your cheek and he caught it, brushing it away. “Come on, as much as I’d like to stare at your pretty face all day… we have a date going on” he smirked.

You bit your lip and you kissed him. “Let’s go” you smiled at him.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

And I woke up just in time,

now I wake up by your side.

With a content sigh, your eyes fluttered open and stretched your limbs, feeling your cheek squished against your lover’s chest. You cranked your neck to stare at his pretty face, still asleep.

Hoisting yourself on your elbows, you admired all his facial features. His beautiful nose.

His perfect lips.

His lashes.

His freckles.

God, his freckles. Did they made you weak in the knees.

You bit your lip, wondering how the hell was this man yours. He had seen you at your worst. And he still stayed.

Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me

Flashback to my mistakes,

my rebounds,

my earthquakes

Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me

He was everything to you. He had you, in the palm of his hand. He could crush you, in any second, he could do anything he wanted with you. And he chose to cherish you. Love you. Worship you.

He was your angel. And your sunshine.

His eyes fluttered open and smiled when he caught your face.

“Hello handsome” you whispered, placing your hand on his cheek, caressing his supple skin.

He let out a breath, out of content. “Hello, beautiful”

Yeah, he was your everything.

My one and only,

my lifeline.

#felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #felix #lee felix #skz felix #skz x felix #stray kids smut #felix smut #lee felix smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #felix x female reader #stray kids #skz x female reader

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tatoda · 11 months

Text

Wanting You || conrad fisher x fem!reader

masterlist

request

summary: you get a call and it happens to be your drunk boyfriend just wanting your love and attention

pairing: conrad fisher x reader

warnings: stressed conrad and mostly just fluff

wc: 800 (i think)

put some drunk conrad in to help with the storyline!! not majority edited just wanted to get this out

It was supposed to be a boy's night. To drink and talk about sports or just hang out in general. But here conrad was, looking at your pictures on his phone showing the guys around him. Even if they were at a party where there were over 100 people, you were still the first thing on his mind.

“she’s just so pretty guys,” he told steven and jeremiah who were sipping on beers

“oh we know, for how much you talk about her.” jere muttered over his drink

“man, as much as i love how you’re in love with my sister, but please spare all details.” steven rolled his eyes

“she’s just so sweet, she’s helped me with so much. like that one time she snuck me into your house because i missed her and my roommate was having sex,” he admitted

“oh god! you snuck into our house. if laurel ever hears this you’re dead meat.” steven leaned forward

“relax steve, i’ll have you know your mom likes me too much.” conrad took a sip of his beer when he should have stopped drinking for a while now “i miss her.”

“he’s so whipped.” jere laughed watching his brother be lovesick for you

“do you think she will answer if i call her?” his eyes lit up

“she’s probably sleeping.” steven looked over his shoulder to the crowd of people spotting taylor dancing with some of the volleyball girls

“just make your move already.” jeremiah pointed out

“you know belly would absolutely murder me if i touched her best friend.” steven sighed and looked away

“hey! look at me man.” conrad put a hand on his shoulder “you haven’t murdered me yet.” he smiled

“that’s because i’m building up to it.” conrad shook his head

“i’m gonna call her, i miss her.”

“dude-“ it was too late he already clicked your contact.

Meanwhile, you were on your bed watching netflix and having a self-care night. With conrad with the guys, you felt like he needed to get out of the apartment they all shared because all they did was play video games and sleep. Your phone rang on the comforter causing you to jump not expecting any calls. You turned the phone seeing conrad’s name on the screen.

“hey.” you paused your show leaning back on the pillows

“hi baby.” he slurred. this wasn’t the first time occurrence he’s called you drunk, you soon found out he was clingy and wanted your attention when drunk

“hey you, how’s the boy's night?” he sighed on the other side of the phone

“it’s good, it’s good. i wanted to call and say i miss you, like a lot.”

“you just saw me yesterday dummy.” you laughed into the phone

“i just really love you.” your heart fluttered as he said the words, you don’t usually say it because it meant a lot to the both of you with what happened to your parents

“can you do me a favor baby?” he hummed on the other side “can i talk to my brother really quick?”

“yeah! here, steven she wants to talk to you.” you heard him hand the phone over

“hey sis.”

“hey can i come get him? i think he’s had enough and i know he’s gonna want me to come get him soon enough.”

“oh yeah please,”

“thank you for taking him out tonight, i know he’s stressed with everything with adam and everything.”

“no yeah i understand, see you soon.” the phone was pulled away from him and back in the hands of your boyfriend

“hey lover.” he chuckled “i’m gonna a come get you okay?”

“yeah, thats sounds good.” you knew after a while he would start overthinking and then the stress would come back

“just stay with the guys and no more drinking, okay?”

“okay, see you soon baby.” you both hung up and you got out of bed

The drive over to the house was over 20 minutes. But you didn’t mind you wanted to see conrad. There has been a lot of stuff going on recently with his dad. you knew their relationship wasn’t the greatest and it really got to him sometimes.

You parked the car in search of your boyfriend. Steven texted you saying they were in the backyard in some chairs, and you saw the back of your boyfriend's head as he talked to the boys in front of him. You wrapped your arms over his shoulder and leaned your head down on his shoulder.

“i have a girlfriend!” his head snapped and he relaxed seeing it was you “oh. sorry.”

“that’s okay, you ready to go?” he nodded “you boys have a ride back?” you looked towards jere and steven

“yeah, taylor said she would take us.” you smiled at steven “when are you gonna ask her out?” conrad moved his arms to rub against yours that were draped over him

“chill, i just don’t wanna upset belly.”

“for fucks sake i’m dating your best friend and you didn’t beat me up.”

“told you.” conrad muttered

“this is different.” he sighed rubbing his face

“it’s not really.” conrad moved to lay his head on your arm giving you the signal it was time to go “just do something at least, con and i are gonna head out.” you pulled your hands away and the man stood from his seat “ready.” he nodded taking your hand in his “be safe tonight, call me if you need anything.”

As you drove home, conrad kept a hand on your thigh but he didn’t say anything and you knew the quietness and depression were slowly coming back from the side effects of his drinking. The whole ride was quiet up until you made it into your room closing the door facing him.

“come here con.” he walked towards you slowly and dipped his head into to crook of your neck and wrapped his arms around you “let’s sleep okay?” he nodded but didn’t let go “con?”

“hm?”

“let’s lay down handsome.” he stepped away from you and you helped him take off his shirt as he slipped out of his jeans left in his boxers and slid into bed “ill be right back, going to get you water.”

“okay.” he softly spoke into the pillow he was laying on

Walking downstairs your mom was also grabbing a midnight snack. She knew he would come over and she also knew he was going through a lot in your 2 years together.

“how is he?” she leaned against the counter as you opened the fridge to grab a water bottle

“it’s a lot, he won’t really talk to me about some of it and i understand.”

“you’re a great girlfriend for him. susannah always loved the thought of you two together.” she grabbed your hand and squeezed it “speaking of conrad.” she nodded behind you, turning around you saw your boyfriend standing at the end of the stairs

“hey, what’s wrong?” you walked towards him

“you left me for a long time.” he rubbed his eyes and you smiled

“come on you big baby, good night mom.”

“night laurel.” conrad muttered

“night kids.” you could hear the humor in her voice

Back up in your room you were both now in bed with the light of the tv shining on the both of you. Conrad’s eyes drifted but he just stared at you.

“can i cuddle you?” he asked softly

“you don’t need to ask.” he moved closer to you hugging you to him, his head on your shoulder and you moved your hand to run though his hair “con?”

“yeah?” you moved to look at him and leaned down to kiss him for the first time that night

“i love you.” he smiled genuinely the first time since you saw him

“i love you.” he closed his eyes and kissed your neck

Soon enough his soft snoring filled the room as you continued to watch your show until you followed him into the dream state.

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #tsitp #prime video #conrad fisher x fem!reader #the summer i turned pretty season 2 #conrad fisher one shot #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x you #conrad x reader #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher smut

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star-girl69 · 6 months

Text

So It Goes…

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: the one day chiron decides to switch up the capture the flag teams, and everyone knows you’re clarisse’s weakness, In A Good Way sequel!!

i changed my theme it’s me tho promise

a/n: protective clarisse the love of my life i love you i do i think we should get married actually anyways this one is sooooooo i got to explore a more casual side of clar’s and reader’s relationship in this (for like a min) i hope you all enjoy!!

So It Goes… - Taylor Swift

warnings: soft clarisse my love, protective clarisse we KNOW how i feel abt her…., also slightly possessive clarisse i think i love you too, again clarisse gets a bit too into capture the flag, clarisse picks reader up which i KNOW is not inclusive (im literally plus-sized idk what the hell am i doing) but it was so good i couldn’t resist, she has like super strength probs so i’ll just believe (she literally could not pick me up i need to stop being delusional), swearing, violence, kissing, a bit suggestive but nothing crazy, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Clarisse’s bed is one of your favorite places. You’ve spent so many nights here, wrapped up in her arms, feeling like no one could touch you. And you’ve spent secret days with her hands on your waist, yours in her hair, lips pressed together so tight it’s like you were each other’s oxygen.

You love Clarisse’s bed. And you know Clarisse loves her bed too, seeing as it’s a huge source of pride for her- it’s the best bunk in the cabin, and she gets a major kick over the fact that you sleep here just as much as you sleep in your own cabin.

You’re sitting down, watching Clarisse pace back and forth, her spear in her hand.

“Clarisse,” you say. She brought you here just fo freak out. Now she won’t sit down and let you help her, and she wont just freaking listen. “Clarisse, baby, what’s wrong? Can you at least put your spear down so you don’t accidentally kill somebody? If you kill me with that I’m gonna come back and kill you.”

She stops for a moment and leans her spear up against the wall. You let out a sigh.

“Now just sit down-”

She resumes her pacing.

As much as you love just being in Clarisse’s presence, as much as you know you’re her rock, the only thing that keeps her tethered in the storm she constantly fights through, you need her to let you help her.

“Clarisse!” you stand up, placing your hands on her shoulders. “You’re freaking me out, okay? What happened? I-I’m sure we can fix it, I mean…” you rub your hands up and down your arms, which you know she likes, her muscles are one of her biggest sources of pride.

She sits down, letting you stand in between her legs, her hands moving to hold your hips.

“Sorry,” she mumbles. She’s not very good at handling her emotions, but she’s getting better, and at least she’s able to recognize and apologize when her emotions are hurting other people. Well, you, at least. She breathes out. “Chiron decided to switch the teams.”

And now she had to work with the Athena cabin? The Gods know after the Ares and Athena cabins have captained opposing teams for years, Chiron pretends there’s not, but everyone knows there’s a deep rivalry. More than just friendly competition.

“The Demeter cabin will be on the red team.”

“Okay,” you say, squeezing her shoulders. You aren’t really close with anyone from the Demeter cabin, it doesn’t really bother you much.

“And… the Aphrodite cabin will be on the blue team.”

“Oh.”

You’ve never not been on Clarisse’s team for capture the flag. Not only does the entire red team’s tactic rest on you using your charmspeak to protect the flag, but what the hell are you supposed to do fighting against Clarisse?

She wraps her arms around your waist, flopping back onto her bed and bringing you down on top of her.

“I know it’s all Annabeth and Luke behind this. I’m sure that little smartass has made up some sick plan to make me go insane.”

You scoff, planting your hands behind her head on the bed. “You’re the one who can actually fight. I’m, like, so bad it’s not even funny, Clar.”

“You beat me all the time,” she frowns.

And it’s true, you spar with her at least 3 or 4 times a week, and you win most of the those times. But Clarisse moves slower, she doesn’t hit as hard, she anticipates your next move and doesn’t block it so you can land a hit.

“We both know you let me win.”

“I like seeing you smile,” she says, her own matching smile on her face.

“Okay, you big romantic.” You let your hands slip, laying your head against her chest and your arms flat around her head. “It’s not that big of a deal, Clar. I’m sure it’ll be fine, then Chiron’ll probably switch them back.”

“Annabeth convinced him to do it. She has some sort of plan, Y/N, she does.”

“You’ve mentioned,” you hum. “Stop stressing. Nothing we can do about it.”

“Fine,” she hisses.

She wraps her arms around your waist and throws you to the side so you yelp, now she’s climbing on top of you, laying her head on your chest.

“It’s going to be the worst game of capture the flag in history, you know. I hope you’re happy, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do without you. I mean, I guess I could move that group in the west side to just south of the flag, so that’ll be a bit more for them to get through. Oh, I’ll stick that one good archer on the ground- no, no that wouldn’t work, I need him in the trees. But I’ll move his position-”

—-

You walk to the woods together. When it’s time to split up, Clarisse grabs you by your armor and points her finger into your chest.

“Clar, what the hell are you doing-”

“Don’t do anything I would do.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you smile, blinking once to avoid rolling your eyes at her ridiculousness.

She smirks, her arm squeezing your waist. She pecks you on the lips before pulling away completely.

“Done making out?” Jackie asks, her and Tyla suddenly appearing next to you.

“It was one kiss, Jacks. Are you sure we have the same Mom?”

“No, honestly.”

You fall into step with the two of them, laughing as you make your way through the woods and to the edge of the river.

Chiron makes his usual speech, the conch sounds, and everyone starts moving around.

Annabeth finds the three of you soon after. Tyla and Jackie fall away, following your other siblings. Annabeth always has this calculating look on her face, like she knows something you don’t, a true child of Athena. You have to admit, she really is one of the smartest people you know.

“Annabeth,” you smile. “I guess you want me by the flag?”

“No, I debated that, but I decided against it.”

She smirks and looks at you before spinning around, pointing to Luke and his team members who are always in charge of getting the flag.

“You’ll be with Luke.”

You frown. “You do realize I have absolutely no skill in battle, right, Annabeth?”

“Yeah, but skill doesn’t matter when you have power. Power over someone.”

“Oh, okay. Who do you want me to charmspeak-”

“Charmspeak whoever you come across, but that’s not what I’m talking about. You have power over Clarisse. I know she’s defending the flag today, right?”

She looks at you sharply.

You smile. “Oh, I really don’t know. But if you say so, sure.”

She starts walking, you follow her.

“Clarisse doesn’t talk strategy to you? I mean, I talk Luke’s ear off.”

“Oh, no, she does, I just don’t really retain any of it.”

She huffs a small sound of laughter.

“I know she’ll be there,” she affirms.

“If you say so!” you say, all sing song, Luke smiling as he meets your eyes.

“Y/N! How’s it feel to finally be on the winning team?”

“I love being on the red team, thanks for asking.”

“Ha. You’re so funny, are you sure you’re not a child of Apollo?”

“Too beautiful,” you glide your hands down your face. “I get it from my godly mother.”

“Luke, do you know what you’re doing?” Annabeth asks.

“Yes ma’am.”

She smiles and walks away, talking to more people while you can faintly hear Clarisse shouting at people. With the change in tactic, you know she’s been slightly stressed, but she won’t allow herself to feel anything other than confidence, outwardly.

She still walks tall. She still grips her spear in her hand a little to tight. She’s a bit too greedy with the things that are hers, she grabs on a bit too tight, but you know it’s just because she’s scared. You like it.

If this were a regular game, you would probably be walking next to Clarisse right now, or kissing her goodbye while you follow Matty and everyone else to go protect the flag.

When you and Clarisse first started dating, she was slow to be so affectionate, but the more of her walls you started breaking down the more you found a complicated teenage girl who felt unloved, and had a lot of love to give too.

The more confident she became in your private relationship, the more she wanted everyone to know. It was her fatal flaw, pride, hubris. She wanted everyone to know she was yours and your were hers. She wanted everyone to be jealous.

“I’m so glad we don’t have to wear those horrible earplugs today. They always make me worried. Someone could be shouting a few feet away and none of us would hear.”

“Stop gloating, Luke.”

“I’m just expressing my gratitude, Y/N, is that not allowed?”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“Oh, oh, I know. You’re sad, aren’t you?”

“Sad?” you snort.

“Yeah, sad. Sad you aren’t with Clarisse. You’re devastated, destroyed, wrecked.”

You put your hand on your sword. “Who are you… and what have you done with Luke Castellan? Luke doesn’t know that many words…”

He hits your shoulder. “Shut up, Y/N.”

—-

You’re walking through the woods.

Not sneaking around in stealth, not running, but walking.

You’ve come across a few of your former team members, but one of the blue team just tackles them and you tell them to turn around and count to 5,000.

For some reason, it’s worse than sitting by the rock, waiting for someone to make a play for the flag. At least at the rock you’re surrounded by all these people you know. You and Matty are usually talking, Marjorie sometimes joins, and you all have fun bullying Corey for that one time he didn’t see the blue team coming.

Luke’s voice drops to a whisper.

“Here’s your job. You can either, one, go make out with Clarisse in a corner, which shouldn’t be too hard-”

“Luke,” you hit his shoulder. He hisses.

“I’m joking, joking. Just keep her distracted, fight her, maybe pull your shirt down a bit? Oh, or I can just cut it so it’s a bit more revealing-”

“Luke, shut up or else I will make you.”

“It’s not a bad idea-”

“Luke!”

“Sh, sh,” he whispers. “Don’t be so loud, we’re almost to the flag. We’re going for stealth, okay?”

“Oh, really, I didn’t notice,” you deadpan. He looks around.

“Blue team, stealth mode, alright?”

Everyone nods. You roll your eyes. You miss the red team.

—-

After Luke gives you the ok, meaning the blue team has successfully surrounded the red team and the clearing, you take a step forward.

Annabeth was right. Clarisse is there.

It’s fitting. If you can’t be there, she would.

You look up at Corey, but he hasn’t noticed any of you yet. You frown, thinking about how he’s probably going to get beat up.

“Clarisse!” you shout. You watch everyone jump into defensive positions. She can’t see you yet, but she stares in the direction of your voice, her eyes squinting, smiling softly.

“Luke?” she shouts. “That you?”

You frown.

“What the hell?” you say, stepping forward. “You don’t recognize my voice? I thought that was really smart. Like, a cool way to reveal myself, I don’t know.”

You come into the clearing, sword by your side.

Clarisse’s smile drops.

“I-I- no, baby, I just wasn’t expecting Annabeth to send you here-”

“Do I really sound like Luke?”

“No,” she says, immediately. “You sound like an angel.

Matty laughs. Clarisse stabs his foot with the end of her spear. She smiles at you.

“Is Luke here though?” Marjorie asks, subtly trying to look through the trees.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you do,” Matty snorts.

“You’re going to tell me though right, baby?” Clar smiles, stepping closer until she’s right in front of you.

“Obviously not, you didn’t recognize me. I’m, like, really hurt by that Clarisse-”

“Gods, Clarisse,” Matty shouts at the sky, laughing. You didn’t recognize her, and now we’re all fucked!”

“Shut the fuck up, Matty,” she says over her shoulder. She looks at you, smiling again, her hand reaching out to touch your face. “I’ll let you do that thing you’ve always wanted to do.”

You smile, your voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ll let me give you a makeover? Really?”

“Yes.” Her teeth grit, but she keeps smiling, her thumb rubbing your cheek.

“Hm, I don’t know,” you mutter, your eyes fixing on her spear when you suddenly reach forward, grabbing it from her hands and turning to run away.

The blue team emerges from the woods with war cries, swords start clashing, and it all happens so fast.

The plan was for you to grab her spear, make her chase you around the woods, and hopefully the blue team would be able to overpower the red team without her.

Instead, Clarisse kicks out her foot, tripping you. Then, she catches you and the spear in what you swear has to be a milisecond.

“Clarisse!” you shout, genuinely offended. She beat you so easily. It wasn’t even a fight. You didn’t even get the chance to run.

“Sorry, baby, it’s capture the flag!”

You about to start kicking like a wild animal when she suddenly lets you go. Luke is there, fighting her while you pick your sword up from the ground that fell in the commotion.

One of your team members dropped their helmet and you pick that up too.

You’re not that bad of a fighter, Clarisse just knows everything about you, you tell yourself. But your pride is slightly wounded and you want to prove to her, yourself, and everyone that you’re not just a weak Aphrodite kid or some poor thing that hangs off Clar’s arm.

You can hold your own.

You stick the helmet on and step into the fight. Someone groans and a sword comes wishing through the air, but you block it.

They swing again.

You block it.

You picked up things from Clarisse, and, besides, you weren’t just sparring for fun. She actually teaches you, better than the actual sword practice teacher if your biased opinion is to be trusted.

But you probably just feel that way because she rewards you with kisses.

It seems like you’re actually winning for a second, about to disarm him, when he seems to get fed up with fighting you and suddenly arcs hard over your head, making you lose your footing and letting him kick you.

You land on your back, groaning and trying to catch your breath.

“That was such a bitchy move,” you mumble. He leans over you, about to kick the sword out of your hand-

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Samuel.”

She holds her spear right under his throat, and he finally seems to look at your face instead of just your blue helmet.

“Shit. Sorry. Sorry, Clarisse, I’m sorry.”

She looks like she’s about to kill him but she just pushes him away.

“I was winning,” you groan. “But then he kicked me.”

She kicks him as he walks away.

You expect her to tug you up and start lecturing you but instead she leans down and throws you over her shoulder.

“Wha- Clarisse!”

“That’s enough for you today,” she says, patting the back of your thigh.

“Clarisse, I swear to Hades, let me down!”

“One second,” she mumbles.

When she places you down on the ground again, you’re leaning against a tree. She grabs your hand, frowning at something.

It’s the smallest cut, barely there, but Clarisse of course acts like it’s the end of the world.

“Does it hurt?”

Your eyes fix on Luke behind her, stalking slowly towards her turned back.

“No, Clar, it’s fine. Now I-”

“I think you should go the nurse.”

Your mouth drops open. “Clarisse, it’s a paper cut!”

“And if it gets infected? Go away, Luke, I can hear you.”

He locks eyes with you but ultimately turns around with a very scared and annoyed look on his face.

“Now do you see why I was all messed up? I knew this was going to happen. You were gonna get hurt, and it was going to be my fault.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not your fault, Clarisse-”

“But isn’t it? You would have been at the flag if Annabeth hadn’t known how much you mean to me. Instead, you were here. Instead, you were rushing off to go fight someone-”

“I’m not a damsel in distress, Clar!”

She presses her lips together.

“I can fight too. Not as good as you, but I can. I-I don’t want to be weak, I don’t want to rely on you for everything, it’s- it’s embarrassing.”

You didn’t even know you were feeling this way until you felt it. But it’s always been there, you guess. You always watch Clarisse spar and know she could never do anything like that with you. And you thought you were fine with it, and you are fine with having things that you like and things that she likes- but you don’t want to be so useless anymore.

She’s silent for a second.

“I- I get that. I do. But I just don’t know how to tell you I… I love you without showing it. I’m not good at saying it, you know that.”

“Clarisse,” you frown.

She puts her hands on your face.

“You are… the most precious thing in the world to me, Y/N. I really hope you know that.”

You wrap your arms around her neck, you can feel her heart thump from the fight.

“I know that, Clarisse. Of course I know that. You show me every day, I just- I just want to feel like my own person.”

She grips you tighter. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll teach you to fight. But you have to do it how I say, and you can’t go off and do this-”

You pull back so you can make sure this is real.

“Really?” you smile.

“You have to listen to me, Y/N, and do it slowly, okay-”

“Yes, yes, yes, okay, yes,” you breathe, planting your hands on your face before kissing her. It’s slow, it’s sweet, it’s exactly what you think of when you think of her. You think of the side that’s yours, the side that only you can see.

You break it, leaning down to pick up her spear.

The red team is losing the fight behind you.

“Ok, go win capture the flag. And I’ll stay here. My hand does kinda hurt,” you mumble.

She smiles and kisses your cheek. “Not just a paper cut, huh?”

“Can I still give you a makeover?” you ask as she turns away.

“Maybe!”

—-

y/n: what why did you not recognize me ☹️☹️

clarisse, genuinely terrified: i have no idea what the hell you are talking about please please please don’t take away kissing privileges please please please

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008

(pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!)

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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lavenderspence · 26 days

Text

To Lean On You | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.

Word Count: 8.6K

Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other.

A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3

Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:

Hearts by Jessie Ware

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Lost Without You by Freya Ridings

In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles

79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.

65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started.

Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.

March 4th, 2017

It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds.

Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost.

Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain.

Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go.

Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.

“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”

You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair.

You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.

“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true.

Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.

“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list.

“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.

“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone.

“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment.

You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”

For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?”

“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.

"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.

All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him.

“Emily-” she cut you off.

“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.

“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest.

As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.

“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home.

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico.

His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to.

“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”

You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other.

You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped.

You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking.

You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes.

You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been.

“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside.

You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore.

And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.

“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud.

“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did.

“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you.

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.

“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him.

“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her.

“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.

You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.

“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough.

She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier.

“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking.

“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt.

“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.”

“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.

“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off

“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more.

“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again.

“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say.

“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight.

Spencer’s POV

The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight.

In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him.

Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.

He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive.

He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends.

In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in.

Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take?

His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared.

Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you.

He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.

He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.

Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote.

As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?

“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num.

In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same.

“Do what?”

She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card.

“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again.

Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused.

Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different.

For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit.

Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy.

He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.

And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years.

He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt.

Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown.

Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place.

How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.

Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly.

Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one.

Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth.

And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness.

Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.

Your POV

You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine.

You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both.

There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature.

Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt.

It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled.

Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him.

As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.

It’d either make or break you both.

You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.

You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed.

The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that.

Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time.

Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.

You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.

Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out.

Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.

You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure.

He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn.

70 days of slowly killing you both.

When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.

His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.

Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly.

Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over.

89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did.

When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see.

His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over.

One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out.

“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them.

His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms.

Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation.

“That’s not fair.”

You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.

“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now.

If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned.

You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth.

His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.

“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet.

He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face.

“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry.

He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined.

He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to.

He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him.

Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.

Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment.

Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of.

The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes.

And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own.

If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much.

And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline.

You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head.

You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him.

He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you.

You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other.

After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand.

It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent.

“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in.

You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again.

“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice.

You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it.

“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto.

You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head.

“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering.

“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.

“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to.

And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became.

To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace.

He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.

“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it.

“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real.

“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple.

“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?”

Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss.

"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you.

You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.

“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.

He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time.

“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy.

His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process.

If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices.

A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.

“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.

Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived.

“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours.

He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go.

He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching.

It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together.

Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.

When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.

And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered.

“I love you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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pprodsuga · 2 months

Text

our last summer | psh

summary: would it be enough if i could never give you peace?

notes: inspired by peace and august by taylor swift and our last summer by ABBA <3 love u forever, my darling sunghoon.

warnings: angst, fluff, nsfw: oral (m + f receiving), unprotected sex, dry humping, dirty talk, fingering. :)

ahh this was only supposed to be a few thousand words but here we are at 19.4K ...

masterlist + add yourself to my taglist

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

The end of summer is when you start to feel it.

The hot sun isn’t as inviting as it once was, with the promise of a limitless summer ahead of you before returning to university in the fall. Now, the sunny days feel bleak and lifeless despite the leftover flowers that have bloomed since spring.

Sunghoon sleeps peacefully with his chest pressed against your mattress, his shirt long discarded from the night before as the warm sun peeks from the curtain shielding your windows. His lips form a pout with the way his cheek is pressed against the pillow as short warm breaths poke at your skin.

It feels peaceful like this. You turn to face him and put your fingertips on his back to feel the warmth radiating from his body. The overhead ceiling fan blows cool air against his skin and the juxtaposition feels electric. Your hand moves up and down his body, memorizing every dip and pattern for memory’s keepsake.

In the quiet of his slumber is when you write your name in invisible ink on the expanse of his skin.

Your hand moves slowly to write in cursive. Sunghoon squirms beneath your touch, his body reacting to the way your fingers move along his muscular back. You don’t notice when he opens his eyes and watches your quiet behavior, but you hear how his breathing has changed and meet his gaze.

“Good morning,” you say to him without lifting your fingers.

“Morning,” he croaks, voice deep and raspy from a good night’s sleep.

“Did you sleep well?”

He nods. “Mhm. You put me to sleep, but it seems like I didn’t do a good job if you’re awake before me.”

“Two times means you did an incredible job, Hoon.”

Sunghoon grins at you and maneuvers his body on top of yours, bringing his nose to touch yours as he smiles. “Wanna make it a third?”

Despite two months of bedroom trysts, his stare still makes you shy.

“But I’m getting hungry,” you deflect, breaking eye contact in an attempt to collect yourself. Sunghoon laughs.

“So am I, and I know what I want for breakfast.”

You let him push his head to your bare cunt and watch as he moves the blankets out of the way. It feels like it’s getting warmer in the room but it very well could be because your body ignites into flames when Sunghoon’s hands pry your legs apart to present yourself to him.

He looks at you like it’s the first time all over again, as if it were that night in June when the two of you found yourselves at the same bonfire party to celebrate the start of the summer season. Everyone who left for university had come home and drank underneath the twinkling stars that painted the night sky in a pattern you’d seen a thousand times.

Sunghoon could only remember your face when he closed his eyes and guessed correctly that you were the person who sat next to him in your shared literature class before graduating, one he never seemed to pay any attention to. You’d grown out of your introverted shell, unlike when you were back in high school, and asked him what he’d been up to since he left. He told you as if the two of you were friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while. You knew his stories but you listened with careful intent because his glossy eyes and his unwavering attention made you feel important.

You aren’t sure how the two of you ended up as connected as you are. You’d argue Sunghoon knows your body better than you do and that the past couple of months, littered with secret kisses and his hands around your waist, has been the best summer of your life.

Even with Sunghoon’s fingers prying your pussy open and with his tongue inside of you, the two weeks you have before returning to university is the only thing you can think about.

Your thoughts drift in and out between focusing on the pleasure he’s giving you coupled with what will happen when the two of you are forced to participate in everyday student life, away from your hometown to face responsibilities. It’ll be your last year, too, and what of the moment when the two of you cross your tassels over your graduation cap?

Sunghoon’s fingers take your mind off of that thought for a moment. His fingers slide up and down your wet slit and you push his hair from his forehead to see his eyes stare at the mess like he’s never seen you like this before.

“Have you finished packing?” he asks before bending down to kiss the soft skin of your inner thigh. “My parents keep texting me to do it.”

“Halfway done,” you say breathlessly.

“Me too.” Sunghoon’s hair makes your body lurch forward but he uses his strong arms to hold you in place. “Gonna miss summer break when we go back.”

You don’t say anything. It’s too much for you to think about, especially when the man between your legs is the most handsome and angelic looking boy you have ever seen in your life. Sunghoon gets so lost in your pleasure that he periodically licks his lips at the sight of your pussy exposed to him, paying attention to nothing but your clit that he loves to call pretty.

“Your pussy gets so wet every time,” he says as his finger flicks your clit back and forth before his mouth presses a chaste kiss on the bud. “It’s so sexy.”

“You know how to use your mouth well,” you praise. Sunghoon grins at your words and hums when your fingers scratch his head as his tongue dives back into your core.

He’s slow with it, unlike the night prior when he had asked to come over with a tent already visible in his pants. Sunghoon takes his time dragging his tongue all over you as if he’s trying to commit the way you taste to memory. His tongue works expertly to reach where your own fingers can’t and you can hear him chuckle from below you when your back arches from a particular sensation.

Sunghoon’s hands support you, sliding from your thighs to grip your hips as you push your pussy into his face. You feel him hum against you as you press yourself into him and if there’s one thing you can infer from your bedroom holidays, it’s that your pleasure brings Sunghoon his.

You come undone a few minutes later as he coaxes you through it, gently licking you clean until your release has been swallowed by him. Sunghoon peppers small kisses along your thighs as a silent praise for a job well done for letting him take you the way he wants, his hands smoothing over your body to grip your breasts before moving his way on top of you.

The kiss is slow like two lovers on borrowed time. Sunghoon’s body slips between your legs as your hands come to cup his jawline with your own hands, pushing your lips against his swollen ones. He kisses you like time does not exist and the world outside remains still despite hearing the sounds of birds chirping from just outside of your window.

Sunghoon gasps into the kiss when your hips meet his, forcing his cock to situate itself between your bodies. He’s hard from a mixture of tasting you in his mouth and humping the bed when he heard your breaths become shallow before eventually releasing all you had to offer. You push yourself against him until you elicit a deep moan from the back of his throat.

“Thought you were hungry,” he whispers against your ear, kissing the skin below it as his hips move until his cock is sliding between your folds.

“Breakfast can wait.” Your hands smooth themselves over his toned body and arms, squeezing his biceps as he raises his chest to see where you two meet.

“Is my pretty girl worked up?” Sunghoon teases with a breathy tone. His hardness matches your arousal and the erotic sound of wetness splashing has him pushing the tip of his cock against your clit.

“Just a little bit,” you say coyly. “I wanna feel you.”

Sunghoon sinks himself into you without a second thought.

“I want to feel you too.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

You avoid talking to Sunghoon about the upcoming fall semester. You’re not sure if he can tell that your mind has been preoccupied with the future because he seems so content in the present, spending his free time with you when he isn’t with his other friends and family.

It’s almost unfair how handsome he looks when the sun kisses his skin. Its golden hues emphasize his sharp jaw and brown eyes that resemble comfort underneath the warm light.

The way he looks reminds you of when you’d use to see him around school before moving away to college. Sunghoon was always revered by his classmates for his astonishingly good looks with his hair always falling into place like dominoes.

He was a household name for more reasons than one. Sunghoon’s figure skating career was at an all time high during his third year of high school, often having missed classes for competitions. He was all the girls could talk about in between classes and it was like the community around you built an invisible shrine to illustrate how worthy everyone thought him to be.

You were never friends with him as his popularity was a bit too out of reach for you, back when everybody cared about the superficial. But Sunghoon lived towards the end of the block where you’d see him leave for practice or come home late through your bedroom window since you were a kid. Your classmates were right to praise him for his tenacity and resilience, although you had a sneaking suspicion that they did so because he was incredibly good looking with rumors of having a very successful figure skating career in a few year’s time.

You didn’t see it that way. The two of you were not friendly by any means, but you could see the weight of the world on his shoulders when he’d come home after a long day at the ice rink. You could hear fragments of conversations, namely how hard it was to balance schoolwork, college applications, and a career he wasn’t sure he was ready to commit to.

University was right around the corner and he itched to experience life that didn’t surround figure skating. It always felt like silent, one-sided support on your end as you’d hear Sunghoon talk to his parents on his way inside of the house. It felt like you were getting to know the person he was when he wasn’t smiling for the camera or for people who liked him for the attention. Still, you’re sure Sunghoon had no idea who you were until just before the summer of your last year of college.

The news that he would retire from professional skating rocked the community but people were supportive of his decision to pursue a degree. He left the small town behind to pursue a life in Seoul, not for his ice skating career, but to get a taste of what his life could look like.

Then, he met you.

You’re still somewhat astonished that he knew who you were, given that you hadn’t spoken much in the years you lived in his neighborhood. Sunghoon made an effort to wave at you in passing and talk to you, going so far as to introduce you to his friends when he had spotted you sitting by yourself in the cafeteria. Heeseung, Jay, and Jake were smitten by your humble nature and were too eager to listen to stories about their best friend in a time where they did not know him. Thinking about that period of your life makes your stomach turn.

Sunghoon kisses your cheek when you both exit your house. His car is parked out front and he opens the door for you before getting inside himself. The weekend is unpromising, as most are, and you find yourself wondering what Sunghoon has planned for the day.

“I see the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours,” Sunghoon comments as he drives out of your street. He puts his hand on your thigh and caresses you with his thumb. “Are you doing okay?”

“Yes,” you lie. “I think I’m still waking up.”

Sunghoon laughs. “Even after I’ve been inside of you?” He watches you blush from the corner of his eye, squeezing your thigh when he hears you stutter over your words.

“Yes,” you mumble. “Even after all of that.”

“Good think I’m planning on getting coffee,” he tells you, diverting his attention back to the road. “I could use a pick me up.”

Sunghoon pays for your beverages and encourages you to pick out a pastry despite having had a small breakfast at his place. He tells you to stand away from the crowd gathering around the hand off station. Watching him with his back turned to you, patiently waiting for his order, feels extremely familiar because of how frequent Sunghoon has taken you out this summer. You don’t think you’ve ever spent time with him like this before the two of you left to go back home for the break.

“For you,” Sunghoon says, pulling you out of your thoughts. You drink the ice cold liquid and feel the unnerving thoughts wash out of you with the first sip, willing yourself to be present.

“Thanks, Hoon. Got anything else planned for today?”

He bites into a croissant. “The rink I used to skate at has a half price day today. I was thinking we could spend the next hour or two there.”

“Why, so you could show off in front of me?” Sunghoon knocks your knee with his when he sees your lip quirk upwards.

“I know you’re curious.” You can’t fault him there.

“Mm, that I am. I can’t say I’m at your level but I can stand on my own two feet without needing to hold onto the rail.”

“I’m rusty,” he says. “I haven’t been on the ice in forever.”

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine.”

“Besides,” Sunghoon says after taking another bite, “I want to see you stumble around like a penguin.”

“I told you, I’m decent,” you huff. “I used to go to the rink with my cousin when we were kids and I used to see you warming up.”

“Oh, you did?”

“Only sometimes. We usually went on the weekends in the morning to avoid the crowd.”

Sunghoon nods. “Yeah, that sounds about right. In the first few years of training, I’d have to be at the rink when people were waking up. I wish I could’ve seen you there.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “We weren’t really friends until this year.”

“Still, it would’ve been nice to have seen you.”

Sunghoon’s words make your heart lurch. You can’t stop yourself from thinking about it.

“We didn’t run in the same circles back in high school, did we?” you ask him to quell his dampened expression, knocking Sunghoon’s knee like he did with you. “You were definitely more popular between us two.”

“Popular is definitely a word,” he says, biting the end of his straw. “I think people liked that I was on national TV. I couldn’t go a day without people saying something about it.”

“You worked hard to get there. I understand why you were the talk of the town.”

He shrugs. “I guess so. It was hard to balance school and my career. I felt like a walking zombie every time I’d show up to class.”

“From where I stood, I can definitely say that look worked for you.”

Sunghoon raised his eyebrow at you. “Oh? And were you looking?”

You roll your eyes. “These are things I’ve heard other people say.”

“Right, right,” he says with a mischievous grin like he doesn’t believe you.

“Whatever,” you mumble, praying that your cheeks would cool down. “God, I don’t think I went an hour without hearing someone talk about you.”

“Yeah. I remember a bunch of people I didn’t know coming up to me like we’d been friends since birth.”

“That had to feel weird.”

“It was weird. Definitely weird. I’d eat lunch and some kid would ask me how practice was going.”

“Then what?” you ask.

“I’d tell them my practice schedule and say I’m hoping for good scores for my next competition.”

“You definitely could’ve been an idol in another life,” you tease. “You were so good at giving vague answers that satisfied people.”

Sunghoon shrugs. “Nah, not for me. You know, I don’t think I had any real friends, though. Just people who thought my career path was cool.”

It hurts to hear it when you recall the nights seeing Sunghoon come home past his bedtime and then in class the next morning. He always looked just shy of collapsing, but that attitude was what the girls were into back then. For you, however, it seemed almost worrisome.

“I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “I don’t know if you remember, but sometimes I’d hang out on my balcony and watch the neighborhood. Most nights I saw you come home late from practice and I always wondered how you did all of it without breaking a sweat. Even when we had literature together, I wished we were close enough so that I could’ve asked you if you were okay without sounding like a deranged fangirl.”

You try not to wince with embarrassment at your long confession. Sunghoon looks at you with an expression you can’t read, blinking at you as if he’s thinking about what to say next. He remains silent.

“Well, I think we should head over.” You abruptly stand and throw your empty pastry bag into the trash can next to you and try to keep a loose grip on your cup despite your chest caving. “I want to be impressed by your fancy moves.”

“I can do that,” he tells you, coming out of his daze when he registers that you’ve moved spots. You push the uneasy feeling out of your mind, pretending you didn’t make things awkward between the two of you.

“If you fall in your face, I’ll deduct a point.”

Sunghoon laughs. “I’ll be sure not to fall. I think my time training has prepared me for this.”

You don’t say another word as Sunghoon throws his trash away. You want to hang your head in shame and ask Sunghoon to drive you home so that you can wallow in your misery, alone in your bedroom. But he jogs ahead of you to open the door, allowing you to step out before him. You thank him with a meek voice and swallow when you notice your throat has run dry.

When you approach the passenger side of his car, Sunghoon opens the door for you. You’re about to step inside when he pulls you into him. You feel his other hand on your waist when he pushes his lips against your own.

His mouth tastes like coffee and the cold sensation of the ice from the drink makes your body shiver. Sunghoon tilts his head and angles himself to push harder against you, squeezing your body with his fingertips before pulling away to see the dazed look in your eyes. Sunghoon chuckles when you look at him, using his thumb to wipe the spit that has collected on your bottom lip.

“I always saw you on your balcony,” Sunghoon says before leaning in to steal another kiss. He opens his eyes only after he’s pulled away once again, and you see the way he struggles to keep himself composed. “I would never think you’re a deranged fangirl, by the way.”

You struggle to find the words to speak. He grins at you like he’s proud to have caught you off guard, opening the door wider while pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before encouraging you inside the vehicle. He closes the door and you sit with your mouth slightly ajar when he turns on the engine.

Sunghoon breathes a laugh and places his hand on your thigh before heading to the ice rink, leaving you astounded and wondering if you were dreaming.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

It’s the last Wednesday before the two of you go back to university.

You’re both arriving separately with your parents and belongings in tow, respectively. It’s been convenient that your family has been on a summer vacation of their own, leaving just after you and Sunghoon had started fooling around, and arriving within two days to drive with you back to school. His parents have been running all over Korea to support his younger sister’s traveling performances in dance. He’s attended a few of her competitions around the country a few times, and even invited you to see one or them with him when she was back in town.

Otherwise, the two of you spend every waking moment together. The only time you’d spend apart is when he’d leave to watch his sister dance or when you had your shifts at a family-friend’s dumpling shop. Even when you’d see a few friends from back home, it seemed to end with Sunghoon in your bed more often than not.

Dusk has settled on the tail end and the sun is almost disappearing. A wave of anxiety washes over you when Sunghoon suggests that you stay at his house longer after having spent the day using his pool. You brought a change of clothes and Sunghoon offered the shower to you. When you say yes, he tells you to go first.

This isn’t your first time using his bathroom by any means, but it’s your first time being completely naked without the pretext of having sex. Suddenly, you smell like Sunghoon because of his shampoo and body wash. You smell of sandalwood and cinnamon, the kind that reminds you of when your face is pressed close to his.

The intensity of your feelings becomes apparent when you dry your hair to the best of your ability with the towel he gave you. You put your clothes on and wring out any water from your bathing suit before looking at yourself in the mirror.

You’ve never spent time in his home like this. You know his bedroom well enough, but it’s usually your house that the two of you hang out in. Sunghoon is the one who comes over, unannounced or not, and he’s the one who brings a change of clothes over just in case the two of you grow tired from talking or otherwise.

It feels strangely comfortable to be alone in his bedroom’s bathroom unsupervised. But it’s a feeling you wish would go away because neither you nor Sunghoon have talked about what will happen when you return to university. Instead, you suck in a breath and force yourself outside.

“Took you long enough,” Sunghoon teases when you emerge from his room and into the kitchen. He has a cherry popsicle in his hand to combat the hot weather that has made his mouth look red.

“You told me to take my time, so that’s what I did,” you retort as you walk closer. You stand before him and he looks at you with a mischievous grin before your eyes dart to the popsicle in his hand.

“You want one?” he asks.

“Yes, please.”

“Open wide.”

You barely register his command when he gently pushes the cool popsicle to your lips, beckoning you to open your mouth. The ice melts against you when it enters inside and your mouth closes against the popsicle when you feel the melted juices begin to run down your chin.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers lowly, eyes focused on your mouth and the way your cheeks hollow. “Tastes good, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you mutter with it in your mouth.

Sunghoon pulls the stick from you and continues looking at your red lips and tongue like he’s mesmerized. He looks at you after you’ve bitten your bottom lip and puts the stick in your hand.

“I’m going to shower,” he says. “You can have the rest.”

Sunghoon walks away without so much as another word, leaving you equally breathless and turned on. Did Sunghoon mean to leave you like this? He loves to tease you and will always finish his remarks with a kiss to your lips or forehead. But this time, he left without that familiar kiss and it looked like Sunghoon was rushing to the bathroom.

With a slight boost in your ego, you put the popsicle back into your mouth and suck on it until all that remains is the stick and the taste of wood.

Sunghoon isn’t in the shower for long. You don’t know what washes over you when you enter his bedroom after hearing the water turn off. When he exits his bathroom, his hair is still damp and his skin glistens from the water. His towel hangs low on his hips and you can see every ridge, curve, and divet on his body. It makes your mouth water and you’re stunned when he meets your eyes.

“It’s a good flavor, right?” Sunghoon asks after a moment of quiet.

“What?”

“The popsicle,” he says with a tick in his voice. “It was good, wasn’t it?” You look at him when he takes a step forward.

“The best,” you barely manage to say.

You swallow when his steps reach just an inch from where you are. Sunghoon looks at you through his eyelashes and waits for you to say something with the side of his face quirks in amusement. His dimple peeks out and the canines of his teeth that you’ve become fully obsessed with are on full display.

Sunghoon leans forward until his lips barely touch yours, eyes flickering down to stare at your mouth. That sensation has you gasping against him, the warm air making him chuckle just enough for him to poke his tongue out and gently lick over your bottom lip.

“Mm,” Sunghoon hums. “You taste like cherry.”

He pulls you by your waist and pushes you flush against his body. His strong arms keep you caged into him while your own flail at the sudden movement. You settle by putting your palms against his shoulders and holding on like you’re afraid you’ll fall if you don’t find your balance. Sunghoon pulls you closer to his mouth and makes you stand on your toes just to keep up with him as his mouth invades your personal space.

The kiss is warm and audible. His tongue pushes against yours and his teeth are nearly knocking into yours as you gain your momentum and recover from the shock of his actions. You grow wetter when you realize Sunghoon’s still damp from his shower, the droplets of water from his hair falling onto your arms like they’re meant to keep you aware of what’s happening.

Without detaching himself from you, Sunghoon sits on the bed with his towel still on and pulls your body so that you’re sitting on his lap. His arms are securely behind you and your back arches when he caresses your spine.

You suck on his tongue as he kneads the flesh of your ass, gently encouraging you to rock yourself on his body. The two of you moan into each other’s mouths breathlessly when you part for a few seconds of fresh air. Your hands grab his neck as you hold him in place like you’re afraid he’ll vanish if you don’t hold onto him tight enough.

He grows hard underneath you in record speed as you keep rising from his lap to kiss him deeper, followed by pushing yourself onto him to relieve friction. Sunghoon grunts against you and slaps your left ass cheek in retaliation when you put more pressure on his throbbing cock.

It’s then when you open your eyes and pull back. Sunghoon keeps his eyes closed momentarily, too lost in the high of his euphoria until he realizes your mouth isn’t on his anymore. His eyelashes make him look celestial, the mole on his cheek too tempting for you not to kiss. But you refrain, holding yourself steady as you try to keep your composure.

“It’s late,” you whisper.

“And?” he asks, catching his breath.

“We have to finish packing,” you reason, although you don’t think you believe in yourself when you say it.

“You have all weekend,” he pleads. Sunghoon holds you with one arm and brushes your hair from your face with his free hand. “What’s going on in that head of yours, baby?”

You bite your lip as he stares at you and it’s jarring to see his careful eyes look at you while he remains exceptionally hard beneath you. Sunghoon squeezes his hand on your waist as gentle encouragement and you watch him tilt his head like he’s listening.

“I…,” you falter. Sunghoon’s stare is too intense. You look beside him and focus on the blankets that cover his mattress. “We go back to school soon, Hoon. I guess I’m just nervous about what’s gonna happen.”

“What do you mean by that?”

You bite your lip. “Dunno. I think I’m just nervous for the future. One last year and everything is uncertain.”

Sunghoon can sense that you’re not telling him the whole truth but he doesn’t pry you to say anything else. He has his own fears about his future as well, and the relationship he’s built with you over the summer has done wonders to quell his worries. But that too is coming to an end. His half-packed belongings sit in another room for him to worry about at a later time.

You feel his lips make contact with your own, this time kissing you with less fervor than before. The kiss feels like a silent reassurance that everything will be okay. Sunghoon lingers for a few seconds before pulling back, just to push himself forward to press more kisses onto your lips until you’ve melted against him.

“I just want you to be okay,” Sunghoon mumbles between kisses.

“It’s late,” you say again, hands bracing his chest.

“You could always stay here for the night,” he says.

“I wouldn’t want to bother you.” Sunghoon places both of his hands on your waist and gives you a squeeze, looking into your eyes.

“I want you to stay,” he tells you. “Please stay the night.”

You deliberate for a moment only to nod and relent. Sunghoon grins, pressing forward to kiss you again. He tastes so fresh after his shower, lips supple and plump as the heat from the water still radiates from his skin. You try not to think about his sculpted chest and toned arms but that does nothing for you when you feel Sunghoon’s lips on your neck.

He chuckles when he hears you gasp. It drives him to put small kisses all over the expanse of your neck, alternating between kissing you and leaving small kitten licks across your skin. The wetness of his saliva makes your arousal pool in your panties and his hair, still wet from his shower, caresses your skin too.

Sunghoon grunts against your jawline when you push your body against his, feeling his hard outline against your core. Sunghoon bucks his hips when he feels you and curses when you push him off of your neck to sink to your knees.

“Fuck, baby,” he says. Sunghoon watches as you undo the towel and push the fabric aside until his cock becomes accessible to you, spreading his legs so you can situate yourself between them.

The gasp Sunghoon emits when you lick him from his balls to his tip is enchanting. He looks down at you like it’s the first time he’s seeing you be like this for him, especially when you steady your hands on his thighs and kiss the soft skin there.

You envelop the tip in your mouth and let your tongue dance on the slit a few times before swirling your wet muscle around him. Sunghoon lets out a low groan when your nails caress his thighs too, cock twitching in your mouth and prompting you to take another inch.

He’s rock hard in record time. Sunghoon doesn’t care about that right now, not when you’ve decided to push your head down and engulf half of him with your tongue running over his veins and his sensitive points.

“You’re so good at this,” he praises. Sunghoon’s palms lay flat on the mattress as his eyes lazily see you through his pleasured expression. “Can you make it messy for me? I wanna see how messy you can be.”

You look up at Sunghoon, who has his bottom lip between his teeth. He looks like an Adonis type with his perfect body and hair falling over his eyes. You do as he says, pulling yourself off of him to gather saliva before letting your spit fall on his cock. He moans when he feels it dripping down him and at the sight of it falling from your mouth. Sunghoon is pleased when you push your head down until he feels the back of your throat, even more so when he feels spit gathering at the base and sliding down to his balls.

You pull yourself off of him just to repeat the process over and over again until Sunghoon is a loud, unholy mess above you. He nearly orgasms when he feels your hands massage his balls but tries to prolong his pleasure.

“You’re so nasty,” he whispers like he’s in disbelief. The sounds of your throat gagging around his cock turn him on and he grips the bed sheets below when you look up at him with him inside your mouth. Your head moves in quick succession to amplify the noise, letting yourself become lost in the feeling of pleasuring Sunghoon.

“Ah, fuck,” he cursed when your tongue works his underside. “I’m gonna cum.”

It doesn’t take him long to finish soon after that. He gives you enough warning time to pull your head away but stares down at you with an open jaw when you grip his base and keep his cock situated in your mouth as he comes.

He watches you close your eyes the moment his come seeps into your tongue and the way you hum around him as you clean him up. Sunghoon’s hips buckle and he does his best to keep his body upright to watch you lick his orgasm. Your mouth constructs around his cock and you continue to glide your tongue over him until there’s no evidence of his come left.

“You’re perfect.” Sunghoon praises you as he helps you stand from your spot on the floor, turning you around to pull your shorts and panties off while you take off your top and fling it haphazardly.

Sunghoon spreads your ass in front of him, staring at your body in wonder. Your wetness becomes apparent to him when the light glistens against it and you hear him curse, prompting you to look back at him. You feel Sunghoon gather your arousal on his hand before grabbing cock and pleasuring himself with all you have to offer him. Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head.

“I’ll eat you out in a second,” he swears to you as he meets your eye. “Please let me put it in for a little bit. I need to feel your pussy around me.”

You maneuver to sit back on his lap as he holds you in place with one arm, gripping his still-hardened cock to align with your entrance with his other. The tip grazes your slit, pulling a moan out of you. His warmth feels incredible, almost as if a fire has been lit inside of you with his cock acting as the match. The collective gasp is the only sound heard in the silence of his room. You sink on his cock slowly as you adjust to his size, watching the way his eyebrows furrow like he’s concentrating on the pleasure you bring him..

You feel whole and complete when you’re like this. Sunghoon’s quietness tells you he’s savoring the feeling too. His breathing is warm as it hits your chest and you look beneath you to see the ends of his hair tickling your breasts. Sunghoon is dry for the most part, save for his still-damp hair, but he looks like an angelic creature who fell from Heaven when you fully seat yourself on his cock.

Sunghoon moves your body up and down slowly. His hands never stray from your soft skin as your ass meets his thighs. The sensation is incredibly wet and warm, the shock of pleasure shooting from your spine all the way to your toes. He moves you in a quicker pace gradually to build the momentum until he breathes quiet gasps when the flesh of your ass smacks against his skin.

Your own wanton moans come unexpectedly as he pushes himself deeper into you. Sunghoon has never been this sensual with you either. He’s more vocal than he is now, just shy from an animalistic howl with witty remarks when you’re either too bashful to look him in the eye as he fucks you or when you talk back to him when you know you shouldn’t. This feels almost too raw and natural. It feels like he’s trying to tell you something but you’re too in your head to know what he’s trying to say.

By the time you’re bouncing on him with your hands placed on his chest to keep yourself balanced, you’re wondering how he’s strong enough to support himself on his palms while you ride him like it’s all you know. Sunghoon nods at you, drunk on the euphoria with every plunge you take. He hisses when you clench around him and pulls you off of his body to pin you underneath him, lips pressed against yours in a heated kiss.

“Don’t wanna cum yet,” he mutters against your lips before dragging them down to your neck. “I promised to eat you out, didn’t I?”

He doesn’t give you the chance to respond. Sunghoon attaches his mouth to your right nipple and licks over your bud until he’s satisfied with how wet it’s become before moving to the neglected one, this time sucking with his tongue flicking over it until your hips push against him.

Sunghoon lets go and with his hands massaging your chest, he maneuvers down to press a little kiss to your slit. He’s pleased when your body reacts accordingly, arching to push your core towards his face. His hands pinch your nipples before sliding them down your body to grip your ass, pulling you closer to his mouth when he pushes his tongue inside of you.

Your hands fly to grip his hair from the sudden and welcomed intrusion. Sunghoon’s tongue darts in and out of you while his hands massage you from behind. The angle has your chest pushed towards the ceiling as high as you’ll go with your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His wet tongue feels smooth and divine as he brings it to glide over your wet folds, collecting your arousal and drinking it like it’s nectar from the gods.

His nose bumps your clit and you push your pussy into his face when he surges forward. Sunghoon’s growls into your body make your toes curl against his back. Your mouth hangs open as moan after moan falls from your lips and it seems as though your body knows no self control when it comes to the boy below you.

“I love your mouth,” you confess with the tug of his hair at the same time an overwhelming, emotional sensation washes over. You don’t say what you mean, but it’s enough for now.

“I love the sounds you make,” Sunghoon says as he parts from your core. He flattens his tongue to lick up your slit in rapid succession, watching your arousal and his spit drag from your pussy to his tongue.

“You sound like a fucking porn star when I eat you out.”

“You’re that good,” is all you manage to say when he flicks your clit with his tongue. “I love your mouth but I want your cock.”

“Princess gets whatever she wants.”

Sunghoon pushes himself until he’s hovering over you. He bends down to suck on your nipples before bringing his mouth to your own, kisses you with his hands braced beside you on the mattress. Sunghoon uses his hands to position you how he likes before spreading his own legs to guide his cock into your entrance, allowing himself to push the tip inside of you.

He inches inside of you little by little, watching the micro expressions on your face when you close your eyes to focus on the pleasure. You feel his fingers brushing the hair from your forehead as he coos and whispers sweet praises about how well you’re taking his cock and how good you feel around him.

When Sunghoon is fully sheathed inside of you, he pulls your arms around his shoulders and thrusts inside of you so deeply that you’re sure he’s reached your guts. He can feel your tits against his chest as he pushes his hips forward. The moans he hears from you sound like music to his ears and motivate him to thrust into you deeper to continue pulling those delicious sounds out of you.

It feels so good and so deep that it brings tears to the corners of your eyes. Your heart swells when you think about how mind blowing his cock is making you feel and you start to wonder if this is the last time you’ll ever be able to feel Sunghoon like this. The lone tear strays and falls from the corner or your eye until you produce a few more droplets when Sunghoon lifts his body upwards to push himself down onto you.

You let out a deep, melodic moan that has Sunghoon’s hips stuttering. He looks up from where his head is placed on your neck to see your reddening eyes and furrows his brows quizzically, preparing himself to stop until you shake your head.

The two of you have never been as silent as you are now. Instead, you let the wet smacks and breathless moans do the speaking for you. Sunghoon leans down to kiss your tear-stained cheeks, and it’s this sheer intimate act that makes you lose yourself around him.

He slows his pace when he feels you coming undone around him, watching as your chest rises and as it deflates as you come down from your high. It washes over you like an ocean wave, so intensely before it quells around you. Sunghoon finds himself in a similar state until he releases inside of you with a low grunt and his lips on your very own.

The two of you remain still as you catch your breaths. Sunghoon pulls out slowly and promises to come back with a warm cloth. He comes back once he’s cleaned himself up and gently swipes the cloth over your body to clean any remnants of cum from between your legs before tossing it in his hamper and handing your discarded clothes back to you.

Sunghoon comes back to bed with boxers and a pair of plaid pajama pants when you blink out of tiredness. He coos at your innocence in this moment before bending down to kiss you while he climbs into bed. Sunghoon turns off the lamp that lights his room and watches as everything falls dark, the light from outside of his window being the only light illuminating over your face.

He pulls you into him and kisses you slowly. When he hears you yawn, Sunghoon kisses both of your eyelids and promises for the last time that he wants you to stay over until the morning.

“We’ll be okay, right?”

Sunghoon stills at your question. You sound too far gone to realize what you’re saying as you nuzzle against his body. When he looks down at you, all he sees is your eyelashes fluttering as you close your eyes and the way your lips form a small pout as you attempt to fall asleep. He doesn’t say anything, choosing to squeeze your body closer to him.

With one final kiss, he tucks his chin on the top of your head and his fingers caress over your back until the promise of sleep comes before you.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

The first week back at university is hectic.

Your parents said goodbye as your other roommates, Yuna and Ryujin, arrived at your shared apartment. It was nice to see them again after months of only being able to text them because of the distance, and having them with you as your parents left was an added bonus to your weekend.

You and Sunghoon don’t text much during this time. You ask him if he’s settled in yet, to which he sends a photo of his friends Jay and Jake wrestling in their living room. You react by laughing at the image and that’s the last you hear from him for a while. You don’t expect to hear from him, as you also haven’t been reaching out that much either, due to moving your belongings into your shared apartment and getting ready for the first week of the semester.

It’s the night before classes begin when Yuna sits down next to you as you watch anime on the shared TV, stealing the pint of cream out of your hands.

“I can’t believe you were fucking Park Sunghoon over the summer.” You barely react to her taking the ice cream out of your hands and let her have it, grinning in amusement.

“Stealing my food out of my hands is something I oddly missed in the three months I haven’t seen you.”

“Don’t change the subject,” she says in a way that makes you think she’s trying to be intimidating. The spoon in her mouth isn’t helping her case. “You and Park Sunghoon. You know, the Sunghoon who you had a major crush on in high school but didn’t know you existed until earlier this year?”

“Okay, you really didn’t have to do all of that.”

“Uh, yes I did.” Yuna shoves another spoonful in her mouth. “I simultaneously want to hear everything about it and nothing at all.” You laugh and steal the ice cream back from her.

“I couldn’t tell you how it happened, honestly. We didn’t start seeing each other until we both settled back home. I kind of missed being in a place where I know it could’ve been just us two.”

“What about your parents?”

“Gone on a trip for the latter half of summer,” you tell her. “Sunghoon’s parents were traveling with his sister across Korea for dance competitions. It was the perfect set up, if you think about it.”

“God, he’s hot, isn’t he?” she coaxes. “I could totally see he had a thing for you the night you two reconnected. Everyone kept trying to get his attention off of you but he just ignored people who weren’t you.”

“Oh, that’s true.”

“Totally is,” Yuna says with a nod. “I bet it I asked Jake if Sunghoon’s whipped for you, he’d say yes.” You put ice cream in your mouth to suppress a grin.

“Don’t put delusions in my head.” You look at Yuna. “But do you really think so?”

“The way you were describing your summer fling with Sunghoon made it sound like you guys were dating, Y/N. I know you don’t bullshit your way into delusions like the rest of us either.”

“He really was a perfect gentleman,” you tell her. “My parents came home when he dropped me off after we hung out and Sunghoon stayed over for dinner until I had to finish packing. It was weirdly domestic.”

“That’s your boyfriend, is all I’m saying.”

You smack her arm. “Quit it.”

“Have you guys been texting since you got back?”

“Not really, but I didn’t think we would be. It’s the first week back and we’re both super busy, you know? I’m sure he’s catching up with his friends and spending time with them since he’s been away all summer. Hoon views my Instagram stories and that’s enough for right now.”

“I don’t know whether you’re trying to convince yourself you’re okay or if you’re actually fine with it.”

“I’m fine, honest,” you say truthfully. “I mean, I’m busy getting back into the groove of university and entertaining you and Ryujin since your favorite pastime seems to be bothering me.” Yuna rests her head on your shoulders and takes the pint of ice cream back to her.

“Oh yeah, I definitely missed you.”

You put your head on top of hers. “I missed you too, Yuna. But seriously, I’m okay.”

“Did you guys talk about it at all?”

You keep quiet for a moment. “Not really. I was anxious about it the last few weeks of summer but there never seemed to be a right time to talk. We’ve been friendly since our parents came back home so we obviously had to stop fooling around.”

“Still, though. Are you guys like…dating?”

Yuna doesn’t see your eyes fall.

“No, we’re not dating.”

“Hm,” she ponders. “Well he should wife you up soon or else I’ll do it.”

“We’re already locked in,” you tease her with the hope that this sinking feeling vanishes.

“Ryujin’s our third,” Yuna says matter-of-factly. “Or, she will be whenever she comes back with dinner.”

“I missed you guys, I really did. Being back at home was nice and all but I miss going out with you two and staying in all weekend to watch marathons of stupid reality shows that don’t make sense.”

“We missed you too,” Yuna agrees. “I’m glad we all decided to be roommates again. Kicking out that bitch from the fall semester and having you as the replacement was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me now,” you tease.

Yuna parts from you to put the ice cream away after the two of you are done with it. She comes back and sits beside you, intently watching the anime in front of her when you pull your phone out. The last message is still that photo and Jay and Jake from a few days ago when you decide to text him.

you: is it bad that i'm still nervous about the first day of school even though it’s my last year of university

you: asking for a friend 🤨

You shut your phone off to prevent yourself from waiting for his answer. You distract yourself with the show in front of you as minutes goes by before checking again, only to see he hasn’t texted back. The disappointment settles within you, even though the rational part of you knows he’s probably not ignoring you.

Ryujin comes back twenty minutes later with dinner she’s picked up on her way back from running errands. The three of you sit around the coffee table and eat wordlessly in front of the TV from a tiring day and it doesn’t feel awkward or forced.

You talk about your respective summers over the sound of the TV, only briefly pausing to watch action sequences that have distracted the conversation until it falls back into place. You tell Ryujin what you told Yuna about your time with Sunghoon and she nearly swoons when you tell her about your summer.

When the two of them have focused back on the TV, you see Sunghoon text you from the corner of your eye. You check your phone again and try to keep your excitement to a minimum.

sunghoon: Definitely not a bad thing. I’d be a little worried if you weren’t

you: i think i’m just nervous because it’s our last year

you: anyway, did you settle in alright? are jay and jake still fighting lol

sunghoon: Take it easy, okay? You seemed on edge back at home

sunghoon: The guys are fine haha I think they missed each other even though they don’t act like it. Heeseung’s been keeping the peace. How about Ryujin and Yuna?

you: they’re good!! I’m actually with them right now. we’re watching my hero academia and having dinner

sunghoon: Pay attention to the TV and not me, Y/N 😭

sunghoon: The guys and I are gonna order takeout and I might pass out soon. Goodnight if I fall asleep before you do :)

you: gooodnight, hoon 😌

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

It’s unsurprising that your semester has started with a bang and that you find yourself more busy than not.

You’re barely home between classes, clubs, and your internship that eats up half of your week. You study at home and in cafes on campus with your other friends and roommates as well, catching up on lost time and complaining about how much work is being assigned.

Sunghoon doesn’t text much and you try not to let it get to you. You’ve sent a few here and there, wishing him a good morning a few days ago and asking if he’d be free to study with you some time this week. Still, you chalk it up to him settling into his life back at university.

You don’t know why this sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You never expected this summer romance to turn into anything more despite your want. But the change of environment and how abruptly your life changed after settling into a routine with Sunghoon has you imagining the worst.

Yuna and Ryujin leave the cafe you’ve been studying at after an hour to head to their shared class, leaving you alone at your table until someone tugs your headphones off of your head. You turn around without hesitance to find the culprit, only to be met with Jake Sim’s infectious grin.

“There’s that pretty face.”

“I’m going to hit you by accident one day,” you huff, pausing your music to face him.

“I missed you too,” Jake says sarcastically, bending down to hug your shoulders when you scowl at him. “How was your summer?”

“Pretty good,” is all you offer him as he pulls away. “How was being back home in Australia? I’m sure your brother liked having you back.”

“Quite the opposite but I think he loves me deep down,” he jokes. “Missed you guys, though.”

You peek over Jake’s shoulder to see the rest of his friends, the very ones you met the same night you reconnected with Sunghoon.

It was natural the way you became friends with them too. Despite Sunghoon’s attention being on you during that night in January, his friends pried him off of you with the hopes of getting to know the pretty young thing that caught their friend’s attention. When they found out you knew him back in his high school days, it was like the floodgates opened and new friendships blossomed that night.

“Hey,” you say fondly, opening your arms to engulf Jay in a hug first. Heeseung follows suit and gives you an extra squeeze. Sunghoon stands behind the former with his hands in his pockets when you approach.

But he doesn’t hug you like his friends do. Instead, Sunghoon tucks you in his side for a quick hug before letting you go.

Your heart sinks but you’re quick to smile at him and shift your focus back to the rest of the guys. It stings a little, considering his friends who hadn’t seen you in a few months greeted you the way you hoped Sunghoon would.

You settle back into your seat when Jay sits in front of you and when Jake takes off his backpack.

“Oh, you guys are staying?” you ask.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Jay asks. “We have all day to kill.”

“Not at all! I could use the company. Yuna and Ryujin just left for class.”

“Say less, princess. Your knights in shining armor are here to save you.” Jake’s words have you shaking your head in disapproval but he throws his head back in laughing before knocking your shoulder with his. “It’s good to have you back.”

“So did you guys do anything fun when you were back home?” Heeseung asks you and Sunghoon. “Y/N, you worked a summer job, right?”

“Mhm. That part wasn’t too exciting but a job’s a job.”

“What about the rest of your summer?”

You tilt your head towards him. “It was great.”

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything and merely gives you a quick smile before pulling out his own laptop and setting it in front of him. The lump in your throat grows, especially as you look at Sunghoon and will him to look back at you. But he doesn’t. Instead, he tells Jay his coffee order when he offers to buy everyone coffee.

The five of you remain like that for the next two hours with your noses deep in your assignments and projects. You steal glances at Sunghoon and see that he doesn’t meet your gaze, which confuses you.

you: you you doing okay? you seem kinda quiet

From the corner of your eye, you watch Sunghoon read your text.

sunghoon: Yeah I’m alright. Didn’t get a lot of sleep this week :/

you: i’m sorry ): hopefully you can get some sleep soon

sunghoon: Hahah yeah I hope so

He returns his attention to the screen in front of him without glancing in your direction. It makes the pit in your stomach sink deeper than before and although he’s given you a reason as to why he’s aloof, the voice in the back of your head tells you to worry.

But there’s nothing you can do right now, not when his best friends are sitting next to him and certainly not when they’re including you in their conversations. They tell you about their respective summers and how much they looked forward to coming back for one last year before everybody parts ways.

It warms you on the inside to know you’re being treated like an equal by Sunghoon’s friends. They’re people you know through friends of friends and would only see at parties on the weekends. You were a little surprised to see Jake approach you in a friendly manner because you hadn’t spoken to him since the last week of your third year, only communicating on Instagram when one of you would reply to the other.

Jay and Heeseung are the same, too. This is the first time you’ve hung out with them when alcohol isn’t involved and you’re scared at how normal this feels, especially when Sunghoon sits across from you but doesn’t make an effort to add anything of substance into the conversation.

The five of you part ways with Heeseung telling you not to become a stranger this year. You promised him you won’t, but the confused feeling resurfaces when Sunghoon merely waves at you as his friends hug you goodbye.

You have a bad feeling.

When the semester drags on, you keep your word and greet them in passing or entertain their rambunctious nature when they include you from time to time. You see Jake the most, as most of his classes are in the same building or the surrounding area in conjunction to yours. He keeps you company in between classes from time to time and you’ve developed a good system where you meet him for lunch in the cafeteria between your class periods and wait for the other guys to join.

Sunghoon doesn’t text you as much as you’d like him to and it feels silly to expect him to pay attention to you as much as he did over the summer. But you can’t help your yearning, not when he looks criminally good when you see him walking throughout campus.

Communication between the two of you had died down quicker than you realize. After the first few weeks of setting in, Sunghoon texted you less and less with you being the one to initiate the conversation. He would like your Instagram posts and stories from time to time and text you about things your now-mutual friends would invite you to. But that was the basis of your conversations nowadays.

Two months have passed and you’re confused.

You respond to his stories as well, especially when he posts with your friends. You try not to read into it when you see girls you know posting Sunghoon on their stories either. They’re innocuous and it’s never just him alone in the frame, but Sunghoon will repost them onto his account and it leaves you wondering if there was any space for you in his life.

The same phenomenon from high school follows him to university, except his life is not consumed by figure skating anymore. The girls are still fawning over him because of his charm and good looks. People still want to be his friend because he’s wickedly good at soccer even though he’s not on the team. The fraternity he and the other guys are in, often throw parties to celebrate random happenings and use it as an excuse to socialize with people. You see him hanging out with people you don’t know while you wait for a text back.

The worst part is that you prepared yourself for this outcome but willed yourself to believe it wouldn’t come true. The two weeks you spent worrying about what life would be like once you came back to university was a premonition for how awfully alone you’d feel seeing Sunghoon having fun while you distracted yourself with your studies and your own friends.

Even Jake, who you don’t know as well as you know Sunghoon, made a small comment about how odd it was that you and Sunghoon hadn’t hung out much. He remembers his friend being smitten by you back in January and figured the two of you must’ve spent a lot of time together when you went back home. You confirmed just as much, leaving out your bedroom trysts when you talked about your summer with Sunghoon.

It hurts when you realize you’ve become the type of person you promised yourself you’d never be; you wait by your phone to see if Sunghoon texts you outside of the group chat you’ve found yourself in with the other guys and anticipate whatever he might post on social media. You can’t blame people for being interested in Sunghoon either. He’s wickedly good looking and can charm anyone without lifting a finger. It’s unfair the way he can move on with his life without worrying too much about what other people think.

You wonder if he thinks about you at all. Communication fizzles out until it’s a few texts here and there. You hear from him mostly through that shared group chat but you don’t talk all that much to begin with. It’s mostly the guys joking with each other and you reacting until one of them says something so out of pocket that it prompts a response from you. You’re still navigating how to act around them now that Sunghoon hasn’t paid much attention to you for the months and a half that you’ve been back at school.

Sometimes you think about how jarring it would look like to people from your hometown if they saw you and Sunghoon together over the summer. You were much more introverted and kept to yourself for the most part back when you were in high school. You were always too shy to make the first move and instead chose to watch people as they made harmless teenage mistakes, watching friendships fail and relationships blossom.

Coming to university made you rethink your whole approach to life. It encouraged your go-getter attitude and the belief that you’re more capable than you think. It’s why you’ve made more friends in the past four years than you did in the first eighteen years of your life. It’s also why you didn’t shy away from Sunghoon in January despite knowing you used to have the biggest crush on him back when you were seat mates.

To you, Sunghoon is still that sweet boy who works hard to make people proud of him. He’s that good-hearted, kind person who only wants what’s best for him and his loved ones. He’s not someone you expect to be a local community hero or somebody to put on a pedestal for no reason. Sunghoon has always been your neighbor, one you’ve seen in his good and bad days.

Brushing you off like you two hadn’t spent the summer twisted in bedsheets makes you feel disappointed and unwanted.

Jake invites you to his fraternity’s party on Saturday night and you tell him you’ll go. If not because your friend invited you to something he’s passionate about, then definitely because you need a distraction that isn’t academic related.

He tells you to bring Yuna and Ryujin. The three of you are dressed appropriately and bask in the cooler weather now that the hottest months of the summer are over. The three of you hail an Uber and head over with a few shots of soju each, leaving you pleasantly buzzed with the ability to walk without stumbling.

The party itself is in full swing when you arrive, as to be expected. Jake meets you at the door and lets you in himself. You almost forget how well known he is because of how painfully normal he seems when he’s not drinking. But walking with him means you witness stranger after stranger come up to him like he’s an old friend they hadn’t seen in years. You assume he knows them all.

“You guys need a drink,” he says. “What do you like? We have beer, seltzer, and hard alcohol if you want?”

“I’ll take a seltzer and Yuna will take a beer,” says Ryujin.

“I’ll do a seltzer too,” you say. Jake fishes for them in the cooler and hands them to you all respectively. “I can’t believe you know this many people.”

“Eh, I know them, give or take. I used to be more active in the frat but physics has been kicking my ass lately,” Jake explains. “This is the first time I’ve had in a while to plan one of these things. It feels good.”

“You really know how to throw a party, Sim Jaeyun,” Yuna says as she tips her beer bottle towards him. “As long as we get in for free, I couldn’t care less.”

“You guys will always get in for free,” Jake promises with a salute. “Scout’s honor.”

“You used to be a boy scout?” Ryujin asks over the music. Jake laughs and shakes his head, assuming she had the most to drink prior to arriving.

Jake leads you to another room where he says the other guys are hanging out. Jay’s the first to see you, Yuna, and Ryujin, and offers his seat on the couch for one of you. Heeseung gives you a friendly hug when Ryujin happily takes Jay’s former seat as Jake steals your attention to catch up with you from the past week before you notice a girl sitting on Sunghoon’s lap.

Time itself feels like it’s moving in slow motion when you see them from the corner of your eye. She’s perched on his knee as she talks animatedly to another person you don’t recognize and Sunghoon’s arm is lazily draped over her waist. Your heart sinks, especially when it doesn't register to him that you’ve walked into the room.

Jake seems to notice how closed off you’ve become when your answers start to slow down. You try not to notice his worried eyes when they dart between you and Sunghoon, but he puts two and two together when you refuse to meet his gaze.

He maneuvers so that his body is blocking your view and the only person you can focus on is him. You appreciate Jake even if your body language doesn’t convey that at this second. You see Yuna and Ryujin come to the same realization a few seconds later and share a look with the two girls before letting your disappointment wash over you.

“Hey,” Jake says gently, knocking his bottle with your can. “Don’t look at him.”

“It’s really hard not to when he’s the only person who has a girl sitting in his lap.”

“True, but you’re not having fun and it’s only making you upset.”

You tilt your head in confusion. “But that’s your best friend?”

“One who’s making my other friend feel upset,” he tells you. “We all had a feeling you two were more than just friends, you know. Neither of you are really good at hiding how you feel.”

“That bad, huh?”

Jake laughs but shakes his head. “Not really, honestly. It’s cute the way you care for him. No one talks about Sunghoon the way you do.”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”

“You talk about him like he’s a person with faults, Y/N. I don’t get the feeling that he was an ex-skating protege or the campus’ best looking student when you talk about him.”

“Well, he is those things,” you mumble in annoyance.

“Sure,” Jake laughs, “but it’s much more than that. Sunghoon used to tell us about how he’d see you on your balcony when he came home from skating practice, you know. You were always doing something like reading a book or staring at the sky. Hoon said he always wondered what you were thinking.”

“That is awfully kind of him to say considering he has another girl in his lap,” you sigh. “This feels so childish. I knew whatever happened over the summer was meant to end when we got back to university but I had this idea in my head that it wouldn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Jake apologizes. “He’s my friend but so are you. It’s unfair.”

“This is definitely too depressing of a conversation to have at a party,” you say with an awkward laugh. “You didn’t invite me to hear me bitch and moan.”

“No, but I’m always down for one. Invite me over the next time you, Ryujin, and Yuna have a bitching session. God knows I need one.”

“I’ll pencil you in.”

When you regroup and are introduced to the girl on Sunghoon’s lap, you aren’t sure what’s supposed to hurt more—Sunghoon barely acknowledging you beyond a lazy wave or this girl being an absolute sweetheart who definitely didn’t know you and Sunghoon hooked up for months over the summer.

She’s kind and includes you and your friends in the conversation, catching you up on what you missed before arriving. She’s considerate and explains inside jokes she has with the people around you when they’re brought up in conversation and it makes your heart fall when you realize just how perfect and normal she is.

You’re not sure whether she’s a girl Sunghoon met just now or has known for a while. You don’t know if he’s going home with her or if this is more than just a one time thing. What you do know, however, is Jake has given you the perfect environment to distract yourself from the awful feeling you get when you see how his chin is tucked on this girl’s shoulder.

It’s Jake who promises Yuna and Ryujin to watch over you tonight. The girls keep their drinking to a minimum too, just to make sure you get home safely. You down shot after shot when Heeseung or Jay hand you alcohol and mingle with the people around you, forcing yourself to seem more outgoing than you are to prevent yourself from thinking about Sunghoon.

The worst part is that he doesn’t seem to care that you’re here or that you’re not walking to him. He’s too preoccupied with his personal company and all of his focus is on her, just like it was on you all those months ago. It makes you sick to your stomach and although you’re incredibly wasted, you stop yourself from ingesting anymore alcohol when Yuna suggests it’s time to go back home.

Jake is kind enough to drive the three of you back when he’s sobered up. He walks the three of you into the apartment building and makes sure you’re safe inside the apartment. Jake makes Yuna and Ryujin promise to update him on how you’re holding up over the weekend and leaves to go back to the party after he squeezes your hand and tells you goodbye.

Your friends help you get ready for bed and the last image before you close your eyes is the way Sunghoon looked at that girl, wishing it was you instead.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

“We should set you up on a date.”

Ryujin barges into your bedroom where you’re sitting cross-legged over your desk with assignments so sprawled over the surface. It’s been a few weeks since the party and you haven’t made an effort to reach out to Sunghoon, muting his social media from your feed and only hearing from him when he chimes in the group chat.

“He’s a great guy and you guys have pretty similar personalities. It hit me when we were hanging out earlier today but if you’re in, I’ll set everything up!”

Ryujin lets you scroll through his Instagram feed and you’re feeling more hopeful and excited than you have since the semester began. The guy is cute enough that you don’t feel immediately turned off by him and he seems to have a fun, outgoing personality. Ryujin’s a little stunned when you agree off the bat, having expected a little pushback, but you’re tired of feeling second best when it comes to love and romance.

Ryujin gives this guy your number and tells you that he should be the one reaching out. You listen when she tells you to relinquish that desire to date and rush yourself into meeting up with him if you don’t match well over text. She’s right, as per usual.

This guy texts you at a respectable hour and keeps your conversations interesting. He makes you laugh and asks you interesting questions that immediately reel you in. You find yourself thinking about Sunghoon less when you talk to him about your own passions and as you get to know him.

In fact, you’re a bit perplexed at how well the two of you seem to get along in just a few short days. You’ve talked on the phone a few times and have seen each other in passing when you pick up Ryujin from their shared class before heading home. It’s enough familiarity to agree when he asks you to go out with him the following Saturday.

It still hurts to think about Sunghoon, but this guy has provided a distraction that makes you think your feelings for the former may truly be gone. Maybe you really did only like him for the summer and didn’t get the closer you needed to move on. Maybe this was that closure.

Saturday comes around and you both agree to meet at a ramen house close to your apartment. Yuna tells you it’s best to meet him there in case you’re not having fun and need a reason to leave. You take her advice and double check that your lip gloss looks good and that all hairs are in place before saying goodbye, promising to update them when you come home.

You get to the ramen shop fifteen minutes early out of sheer nervousness and rationalize that you’d rather wait for him instead of risk being late. The air is cool enough that you keep your jacket on.

Only, you end up waiting longer than you’d like.

People walk past you but none of them are the person you’re waiting for. You grow more irritable and anxious altogether, checking your phone to see if there are any texts in his end that you neglected to see earlier. But you see nothing.

After ten minutes past when he was supposed to meet you arrives, you text and ask him where he is. When another ten minutes passes, you call and leave a voicemail. You don’t know why you waited a full forty five minutes for him before deciding that it wasn’t worth it. Being rejected without knowing why for the second time has unlocked the deep insecurity of not being good enough, one you kept hidden from the surface.

Fresh tears spring to your eyes and you wipe them away quickly to avoid crying in public. The shame you feel is weighing on you heavily. It seems childish to experience this level of annoyance and you refrain from sending a lengthy paragraph with less than favorable things to say.

It all leads back to the nagging feeling of not being good enough for people to keep around. It’s almost as if you’re a liability of sorts, wandering around and hoping that who you are is enough to give others peace.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when you hear someone calling your name.

“Y/N, is that you?”

You turn around to see Jake squinting and walking towards you. He smiles when he can see you standing in front of him and leans to give you a loose hug, initially too excited to have run into you to notice you’d been crying. When you pull away from him, Jake sees a tear fall from your eye and immediately pulls you back towards him.

“Woah, woah,” Jake says when you stumble into his chest. He secures you between his arms as you pathetically let your tears fall onto his jacket. He looks down at your crying figure and feels his heart ache. “What happened, Y/N? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head and lift yourself from his chest, roughly pushing underneath your eyes to rid yourself of your tears. You’re sure some of your eyeliner has smudged and your makeup is ruined, and the thought of Jake watching you cry on a public sidewalk makes you feel pathetic.

“You’re not hurt,” he guesses when you move your head from left to right. He puts his hands on your shoulders and bends to look at you. “But you’re crying.”

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I’m just gonna go home.”

“Not when you’re like this,” he says. “What’s going on, Y/N?”

“I had a stupid date with a stupid guy, and he stood me up without telling me why he couldn’t make it.”

“That fucking blows.”

“Tell me about it.”

“He didn’t give you a reason either? I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh. “I think I’m just done with this whole dating bit until I get my life together. I’m exhausted, Jake.”

He nods. “That guy sucks. I hope he doesn’t wake up tomorrow.”

“You and me both.”

“That’s the most un-gentlemanly thing a guy could do. Why bother asking you out if he’s not going to show up?”

“You’re asking all the right questions but I’m too upset to even think right now, and I’m hungry but all I have in my kitchen is leftovers that I don’t want to eat.”

The frustration eats at your chest and you feel an impending tantrum rising. Jake can only look at you with sympathetic eyes as you shake from the cool breeze. But he shakes his head when you suggest going back home and offers his arm out to you.

“Screw him. I’ll take you out on a date tonight since you were promised one.”

You raise an eyebrow. “A date? Jake…”

“Come on,” he says with a friendly smile. “It won’t mean anything. You deserve to go on a mind blowing date after, well, everything.”

“What makes you think you have what it takes to take me on a mind blowing date?” you ask as you loop your arm with his.

“Because I, Sim Jaeyun, know how to impress girls.” He laughs at his own joke and ushers you inside the restaurant before flagging down a waiter to be seated. “But really, I like being friends with you and I hate seeing you sad.”

“You’re definitely climbing the ranks in this totally imaginary friendship ladder,” you tell him. The waiter leads you both to an empty table and Jake pulls out your chair for you before bowing dramatically.

“Your seat, madam.”

“Thank you, kind sir.”

He laughs and pride swells in his chest when he sees you laughing. Jake has gathered bits and pieces about your summer with Sunghoon between the two of you. He’s not as close with you as he is with the former, but the blossoming friendship since that night you two first met has him thinking you might be someone who he wants around for the long run.

It’s why Jake finds himself irritated at Sunghoon for ignoring you in the first place. He tries to bring you up in conversation subtly, mentioning your name or what you’ve been up to in passing. Jay and Heeseung are quick to take the bait and talk about you candidly like they would with any of their other friends but Sunghoon always remains quiet and stoic. It doesn’t help that Jake remembers the crestfallen look on your face the night his friend let another girl sit on his lap.

Jake can’t guess why this seemingly perfect summer ended so abruptly. Sunghoon was full of hope during his time away from university and often talked about how happy he was to be back home. He mentioned being with you a few times but Jake and the rest of the guys had a sneaking suspicion that you were the one making his last summer before graduating, one to remember.

But now, you sit in front of him with your hair done and an outfit that he’s never seen you wear to campus before. You look like an angel under the artificial lighting as you talk animatedly about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you. Jake almost feels sorry for Sunghoon. It could very well be him sitting in front of you instead if he hadn’t ignored you.

The two of you make the fifteen minute walk back to Jake’s apartment after he tells you it’ll be just him until the following evening. He says that Jay and Heeseung are taking a weekend trip but doesn’t know what Sunghoon is up to, although you suspect that he’s with the girl from the party.

You try not to dwell on it when you enter his apartment. The living area is much cleaner than you anticipated it to be. There’s artwork and posters lining the walls and Jake lets you look around when he grabs two bottles of soju.

“I’m in desperate need of a bitch-fest and I know you are too,” Jake says as he beckons you to sit on the couch. “This is a judgment-free zone, okay? Whatever you say won’t be repeated.”

“That’s a tempting offer but I still need to go home later.”

Jake shrugs. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.” You don’t contemplate it for a second.

“Screw it.”

You take one bottle from Jake and unscrew the cap, chugging a quarter of the liquid before handing it back to him. He doesn’t say anything before tipping his head back to do the same.

“Sometimes I feel like everyone has this expectation of me that I can’t fulfill,” Jake starts. “I mean, I know I’m on the soccer team and all of that shit, but people expect me to be this all-rounder who knows what I’m gonna do in life. I don’t know anything.”

“That sucks. I can’t imagine why that many people think that they know what’s best for you.”

“Everyone tells me to go pro. Without fail, every single game ends with someone telling me to jump the gun and go for it. But I don’t play soccer for fame, you know? It’s exhausting and I hate that I’m losing my passion for it.”

“I’m sorry, Jake.” The two of you sip on the alcohol until a nice buzz has formed. He watches you pout and he refrains from cooing at you. “I think people need to shut the fuck up forever.”

“Amen.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way. Seriously, Jake, I’m sorry people make you feel like you have to be somebody you don’t want to be.”

“People think it’s stupid that I want to pursue a career in astrophysics but it’s what I love and it’s what I’m good at. I’m waiting on acceptance letters for grad schools across the country but nobody seems to give a shit about that.”

Your heart aches for him. Jake feels your head rest in his shoulder and he rests his own head on top of yours.

“People think they know what’s good for you based on their own delusions about who you are,” you say.

“I love my team and I love soccer but lately I haven’t been looking forward to going to practice or the games. I hate that it feels like it’s weighing me down.”

“Do you know what you’re gonna do?”

He shakes his head. “Not really. I get in the zone when we have a game but the aftermath is just…wondering what I’m going to do when it’s all over. I want to keep playing but not if it means I lose my passion for the sport.”

“Well, that makes a lot of sense. I’d hate to see you lose passion for the thing that makes you happiest.”

“Me too. Now you go,” Jake beckons after a moment of silence. “I feel like I just ripped my heart out and put it in your hands.” You steal the bottle from Jake’s hands and he motions to open a new one as you finish the last of the liquid.

“I’m going to feel really stupid for saying all of this so please promise you won’t make fun of me.” Jake rubs your arm with the hand around your shoulder.

“I would never, Y/N.”

You sigh. “Sometimes it feels like everything for me is an ‘almost.’ It just seems like the universe has it out for me and won’t let me be happy because everything I’ve ever wanted keeps getting ripped away just when I think it’s in reach.

“This stupid date is a first. I feel so fucking humiliated and I hate that I waited as long as I did just for him to not text me or let me know he wasn’t coming. It makes me feel like some sort of pathetic excuse of a human being that he couldn’t give me the decency to give me a heads up.”

“He’s fucked up for that, Y/N. I mean it. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad about it, okay?”

“Thanks, Jake. This whole Sunghoon thing too…I’ll admit that I’m hurt. Sue me. It was shitty to ghost me and pretend I don’t exist. It’s fucking cowardly not to end it with me face-to-face. But mostly, I feel so fucking ashamed that I even fell for him in the first place.”

“What do you mean?”

You sink deeper into Jake’s side. “Sunghoon has always attracted attention wherever he goes. Back in high school, everyone thought he was untouchable because he competed in skating competitions and had to miss school to appear on TV.

But to me, he was just my neighbor who struggled to wake up in the morning or someone I’d see come home late at night after everyone had eaten dinner. It was so weird to me back then, to see someone as young as him do what he did.”

Jake leans the other bottle towards you and you take a long sip.

“I wanted to be friends with him so bad, Jake. He was so funny without even trying. All the guys and girls in school would laugh because they wanted to be his friend but I thought he had such a unique sense of humor. And he’s way smarter than people gave him credit for. I don’t know how he managed to be a professional skater and a student at the same time.

Then we bumped into each other at that party after three years of not seeing each other. Sunghoon is more confident than he was when we were kids. I think I am too. It was weird talking to him about our hometown when we barely talked, but it felt like we lived the same life.”

“So why do you feel ashamed?”

You bite your lip. “I had the biggest crush on him when I was sixteen. We shared only one class together and instead of a final, our teacher said we could have a small holiday party and have secret Santas. Sunghoon picked my name out of the bunch and he gifted me two things—a vinyl of my favorite album and guitar picks.”

Jake nudges you. “You play guitar?”

“I remember telling him how shocked I was because the budget was twenty dollars. But Sunghoon said he was at the mall with his friends when he saw this vinyl in the local record store and had to buy it. He told me he was originally just going to give me the guitar picks, but he remembered that all I could talk about before class started was how excited I was for it to come out.”

“Wow…that’s a pretty sentimental gift.”

“I was so touched that he did that and remembered something about me. It felt like the first time I was seen by people who weren’t my parents. That turned into a big, fat crush on Sunghoon that ended when he started dating the most popular girl in school at the time. It made sense, you know. Both of them were prom king and queen and that dumb tradition reminded me that I have more to live for than waiting for a boy to like me back.

But then summer happened. It was like I was sixteen all over again and my feelings for Sunghoon never went away. I ran into him getting coffee and we ended up talking for an hour at the coffee shop before we went back to my place. The rest of the summer is history.”

Jake drinks from the bottle. “Sunghoon was your first love, wasn’t he?”

You groan into your hands. “Don’t remind me.”

“He’s not on my good side either, babe. Lately he’s been on edge, I guess. He’s more irritable, too. Sunghoon’s short with us and it’s driving me crazy.”

“Seems like he’s the common denominator.”

You drink from the bottle. “I don’t base my value on whether or not I’m dating but…it always feels like I’m losing. It feels like I’m constantly placing second and it kills me that I have to experience this all over again.”

Jake doesn’t say anything for a while and your buzz is starting to increase. He pulls you in for another hug and sits like that for a good moment until he’s sure you won’t cry again.

“Life is unfair but at least we have soju.”

You snort. “You got that right. Didn’t you say you guys had a karaoke machine? I think we need to do something that’s not depressing.”

“When I get the highest score, you better not complain.”

Jake excuses himself to get more drinks from the kitchen and takes the liberty to text Yuna and Ryujin about what happened that night and that you’ll probably stay over at his place after consuming so much alcohol. They thank him for letting them know and Jake pockets his phone, hoping that the hurt in your soul will disappear when you wake up.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

It’s two in the morning when Sunghoon comes home unexpectedly.

Jake notices him after the floor creaks under his footsteps and switches his eyes from the television screen to his friend. You fell asleep an hour ago and he didn’t have the heart to wake up, nor drive you back to your place because of the alcohol left in his system. Instead, Jake put a blanket over your body and let you lie your head on the armrest.

Sunghoon looks between you and Jake. He doesn’t know what to make of it and takes his shoes off to delay the conversation he knows is imminent.

“I thought you were with that girl,” Jake mutters, not bothering to glance at Sunghoon, who is now standing close to him.

“I couldn’t do it,” Sunghoon tells him.

“Hm?”

“I said I couldn’t do it. She was kissing me and tried to take my shirt off and I couldn’t go through with it.”

Jake nods. “Okay.”

“Okay…”

“You should probably go to bed. It’s two A.M.” Sunghoon looks at Jake quizzically.

“Alright? Why is Y/N here?”

“That’s none of your business,” Jake says with a clipped tone.

“It is my business if she’s in my apartment.”

“Our apartment.”

“Sure, whatever.”

Jake’s mouth quirks slightly. “Y/N and I were just hanging out.”

“The two of you, hanging out in the apartment. Right.”

“Why’s that so hard to believe?”

Sunghoon pushes his irritation down. “You guys don’t seem like the type to hang out without the rest of us.”

“I bumped into her tonight and we ended up coming back here and getting drunk. No biggie.”

“You guys got drunk, alone?”

“Why? Is there a problem?”

Sunghoon feels taken aback by Jake’s attitude. He wants to throw it back in his face and ask his friend why he’s acting the way he is, but your sleeping figure prevents him from raising his voice. It’s late and he’s tired, and all he wants to do is figure out if you and Jake are involved. He sticks around for another minute, trying to think of someone to say without tipping Jake off. He balances on both legs, awkwardly shuffling around until Jake sighs loudly.

“We’re not seeing each other.”

Sunghoon chokes, causing Jake to roll his eyes. “W-What?”

“Y/N and I aren’t hooking up.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

“Sure you weren’t,” Jake smirks, turning his attention back to the TV screen. “You’ve been standing there like an idiot trying to figure out how to talk to me about this.”

“Well…okay then. Good.”

“Good?”

Sunghoon panics. “Yeah. She doesn’t deserve more heartbreak.” Jake laughs and shakes his head, biting his tongue to prevent what he wants to say from tumbling out.

“That’s rich coming from you, Sunghoon. You of all people don’t get to talk about what Y/N deserves. You’ve been a coward this entire semester and didn’t have the balls to cut it off with her in person.”

“Jake, I—”

“This is the first time I’ve seen you act like a child, bro. You ignore your feelings and then get mad when you see her with me. Which is it? Do you like her or not?”

“It’s not that simple. I just—”

“You just what? Throw away a good thing and ruin it? Ignore the only person in your life who knows you inside and out?”

“I’m afraid that she only likes me because everybody else used to,” Sunghoon confessed. “I’m scared that Y/N doesn’t give two shits about me other than the career I had and where my life is going.”

Jake scoffs. “I love you, man, but your head is so far up your ass right now. Y/N is the only person who cares about you for the reasons you want. She’s the only person who’s never seen you like some sort of prize to be won and you threw that all away for what exactly? For a girl you barely know?”

“She’s no one.”

“Precisely,” says Jake. “You keep deluding yourself into thinking all of these girls you meet are perfect for you but you’re self sabotaging. Who’s to say those girls give a fuck about you?”

Sunghoon remains quiet and allows Jake to be angry at him because he knows he deserves it. He never intended to hurt you. Seeing you stop looking for his eyes at parties or ignoring him when you see him in passing makes Sunghoon believe you’ve stopped trying with him, just like he did with you.

It hurts to know that there’s a possibility of you moving on from him. It’s strange to think you could live a life without him in it because this past summer has taught him how loved he could feel and how he could have it all if he really wanted it. But the happiness and worry-free vacation scared him into oblivion with the recollection that everyone who has ever loved him, has now left.

But not you. You were there for Sunghoon in his youth without him knowing it and you were there for him when he needed a reminder that his life could be more than outgrowing expectations. Sunghoon ran away from it because it felt foreign, and now he’s understanding the weight of his actions when he sees you comfortably sleeping next to his best friend.

“I’m not going to kick Y/N out tonight, by the way. She’s been asleep for an hour and I’m not gonna disrupt her,” Jake says, bringing Sunghoon out of his thoughts. “It’s probably best if you stay in your room until she leaves tomorrow morning.”

He nods and looks at your still figure on the edge of the couch. He wants to see you up close like he did over the summertime and kiss the worry from your pout, but he refrains. Instead, Sunghoon whispers goodnight to the two of you and disappears into the hallway.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

Sunghoon builds the courage to talk to you when he wakes up the next morning and sees the living room empty. He’s not sure if Jake told you about him arriving earlier than expected. Honestly, he’s not sure what he’s hoping for.

He prays for a moment to get you alone and that you’ll hear him out. Knowing you were so close but out of his grasp makes Sunghoon’s heart fall to his chest. It feels like a constant battle between what he wants and what he thinks is good for him based on unsavory experiences from his youth. But you’re not just another person to him.

Sunghoon breaks it off with the girl from the party and he’s more than shocked when she tells him there aren’t any hard feelings. But she says she always noticed the far away look in his eyes and assumed he was still hung up on somebody else in the meantime. Sunghoon apologizes until he feels like it’s enough.

When he sees you standing outside of the local convenience store by your apartment in the middle of the night, Sunghoon knows it’s time for him to stop being a coward.

“Y/N,” he says when he approaches.

You look perfect underneath ungodly fluorescent lights, so much so that he thinks it’s unfair how good you look. The basket in your hand is filled with a few items and Sunghoon is immediately transported to all the nights where the two of you would make midnight runs for late night snacks. It tugs at his heart strings and he wants to turn back time at this moment.

You look at him like you’ve seen a ghost. He knows he’s the last person you expected to run into tonight. It’s clear by the way you’ve taken a step back, carefully dropping a bag of chips in your basket.

“What do you want?”

Sunghoon tries not to wince at your cold tone.

“Can we talk?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Alright,” he says. “I deserve that.”

You sigh. “You have until I finish shopping to talk.”

Sunghoon wastes no time and stands beside you at a respectable distance to avoid making you feel uncomfortable. You scan the aisles and he realizes you’re taking your time when he remembers that you know this store like the back of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” Sunghoon begins. “I’m sorry for ghosting you after our summer together. It was shitty on my part to ignore you and then have you see me with another girl.”

“Is that all?” you asked him with a clipped tone. “Is that really what you wanted to tell me?”

“No,” he rebukes, swallowing harshly. “You deserve that apology at the least. I don’t know why I did it. I guess a lot of my fears about holding people close scared the shit out of me because everyone leaves eventually and I was scared that you’d be one of them.

“I know it was fucked up not to talk to you about this before we came back to school. I could tell something was bothering you but I was so selfish and tried to convince myself that we’d be okay once we left home. I’m so fucking sorry for ignoring you and making you feel like you weren’t worth my time, Y/N. But I’m here to tell you that I’m so in love with you and that I’m so, so fucking sorry.”

You stop in your tracks and shut your eyes. He watches you breathe in and holds his breath. Sunghoon’s hands are shaking and his heartbeat feels like it’s running as fast as a bullet train when you turn around to face him. When you open your eyes, all he can see is disappointment.

“You were everything to me, you know? Back in grade school, everyone used to talk about you like you were a God but I was the only person who talked to you like a human being. I know you know that. I was the only person your age who didn’t make you feel like you had to meet expectations.

When we reconnected over the summer, it felt like I was struck by lightning, or something. God, I had the biggest crush on you when we were in high school but you never looked at me like that because I wasn’t one of the girls who was popular enough to be seen with you. But I know we were all caught up in stereotypes and childish behavior. I don’t blame you for that.”

Sunghoon follows you to another aisle.

“Then summer happened. You treated me like your girlfriend and you talked about the future like I was going to be part of it. You messed with my head when you’d hold me in public and kiss me when we had sex. You confused me when you stopped texting me and when you decided to hookup with some girl without breaking it off with me. I don’t give a shit if you didn’t like me back. The decent thing to do would’ve been to tell me you wanted to stop whatever it was we had.

I feel so fucking humiliated to think you could’ve ever reciprocated my feelings for you. I hate that I let you back into my life just for you to treat me the way you did. It makes me feel like I’m not good enough for you and I don’t want to feel like that anymore.”

“But I love you,” Sunghoon croaks with tears forming in his eyes.

“Well, it’s too late for that.”

You walk to the cashier without looking behind you. Sunghoon feels frozen on his ground but sees your figure becoming smaller before he rushes to stand next to you and pull out his wallet.

“Paying for my shit won’t fix this.”

“I know,” Sunghoon says softly while he hands the cashier his credit card. “Just let me. Please.”

You don’t intervene. You don’t say anything when he steps out of the store with you or when he offers to walk you home because it’s dark out and you know it’s a ten minute journey. You don’t say anything when the wind blows renders you cold, but you decline when Sunghoon offers your jacket.

“Thanks for walking me,” you say when you reach your front door. “Sunghoon, I want to believe that you’re sorry and you regret what you did, but that doesn’t change the fact that you hurt me. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of this back and forth. It’s time we both move on, don’t you think?”

His mouth feels dry and Sunghoon thinks he might shatter into a million pieces in front of you. He feels his heart breaking when you turn around to unlock your door and when you don’t spare him a glance as you walk inside. Sunghoon stays with his mouth slightly ajar as he stares at your front door, replaying your words in his head.

With a heavy heart, Sunghoon begins to walk home and lets his tears fall until his vision becomes blurry.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

“Now you know I’m not one to give men the benefit of the doubt, but Jake says he can hear Sunghoon crying in his room every night.”

Ryujin and Yuna sit on your bed while you’re sitting on the chair at your desk. They pick at the pillows decorating the mattress while you kick your feet up and place them on top of the blanket.

“And, as we know, Sunghoon doesn’t cry,” says Yuna.

“Serves him right,” you say. You don’t deny that it makes your heart hurt for him, but your anger and pride prevent you from expressing any sadness for Sunghoon.

“Based on what you told us, it really sounded like Sunghoon’s apology came from the bottom of his heart and it wasn’t a cop out to make himself feel better.” Yuna hugs your pillow closer to her. “It’s clear that you two still love each other.”

“But it doesn’t matter, Yuna. Not when the thought of ghosting me crossed his mind. It hurts to know that there was even a time when Sunghoon thought I wasn’t worth keeping around.”

“We can all agree he was a fucking idiot but there’s a reason why he’s crying every night and why he didn’t make up excuses when you told him how you felt,” says Ryujin. “That’s gotta count for something.”

“Jesus, you two must really believe him if you’re saying all of this.”

Yuna shrugs. “Obviously we don’t know him as well as you do but we know him well enough. What he did was terrible, no doubt about that. But it’s been weeks since you guys saw each other and you’re both so miserable.”

“Hey!” you shout, plucking an eraser off of your desk and flinging it at her. “I’m not miserable.”

“Sure,” Ryujin snorts. “There’s no use in lying to us when you know we’ll call you out.” She smiles in satisfaction when you huff.

“We’re not saying you need to marry him or even absolve what he did,” Yuna advises. “But we both know you’re not moving on from him. You’re hurt and we get that but you’ve loved him all your life. That feeling will never go away.”

“What if he hurts me again?” you ask. “What if he decides that he’s going to stop communicating with me because I’m not what he wants anymore?”

“The man told you he was in love with you in front of strangers in a convenience store,” Yuna deadpans. “Even if he does decide it’s over, you’ll be strong and you’ll know how to stand your ground.”

“If you don’t go for it, you’ll know how it’ll end. But come on, Y/N. You’re so in love with Sunghoon that you still yearn for him even after you told him to move on from you. Don’t you think you deserve to be happy too?”

You bite your lip. Ryujin and Yuna look at you with all the love and care in the world, and for a moment you wonder if Sunghoon has ever looked at you like that.

Ryujin speaks. “Again, you know I’m the last person to vouch for a man, but this is Sunghoon. He’s the guy you love more than life and someone who will never be able to move on from you.”

“You have to realize that,” Yuna says. “You’re everything to him.”

“I don’t know.”

“But you care so much for him. I mean, you were ready to bolt out of the apartment to check up on him when I told you he’s been crying.”

“Fuck you guys,” you say in distress, hiding your face in your lap. They laugh and come to stand next to you, pulling your body in an upright position and smothering you in between them.

“Just talk to him, at least. See where it goes. If it doesn’t work out, at least you could say you tried.”

“And you know,” Yuna says, “sometimes trying your best is enough.”

You gather yourself and put your shoes on when Ryujin hands you a tissue. Yuna grabs her car keys and tells you she’ll drive and that they’ll wait for as long as you need in case you need any back up. You hug both of them like you’re afraid they’ll slip away but they tell you that everything will be just fine.

Heeseung is the one who answers the door when you knock. He’s shocked to see you but lets you in when Jay and Jake spot you from the living room. Sunghoon sits between them on the couch when Jake nudges his side.

When he meets your eyes, he understands what it means to have the wind knocked out of his lungs. He wipes a stray tear from his eyes and you wonder if he knows how your heart is breaking for him all over again.

“We’ll be outside,” Jake says to cut the silence. The three boys walk out and join Yuna and Ryujin in the car when they see them parked out front.

“Hi,” you say quietly, standing awkwardly with your weight shifting from one leg to the other.

Sunghoon stands abruptly and nearly trips over the blanket covering his lap to get to you. You stifle a grin when you remember why you’re here in the first place and you hate that you melt whenever he’s around you.

“Y/N, hi,” Sunghoon says. “W-What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said that night you apologized,” you tell him. “I didn’t think you loved me the way you said you did until Jake told us you’ve been crying for weeks.”

“How could I not love you?” he asks timidly. Sunghoon wants to reach for your hand but refrains because he feels like it’s too soon.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re everything to me, Y/N. You’re the person I want to talk to at the end of the day and the person who sees the best in me. You’ve never made me feel like I wasn’t enough and it was so stupid of me to think that you would’ve turned out to be somebody who would leave me. You’ve been so nice to me since we were kids and all I did was make you feel like you weren’t good enough.”

“Hoon—”

“I don’t want you to think I’m saying all of this to get you to feel a certain way. But fuck, I love you, and all I want is for you to be happy. You of all people deserve that at the minimum.” Sunghoon nods and sniffles. “You deserve the world and I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t.”

“I won’t say that everything’s okay,” you begin. Sunghoon nods and casts his gaze to the floor. “I’ve never felt so passionately about someone before you, Sunghoon. I don’t think I ever knew what to do about my feelings for you. It was so hard watching you date people in high school who I knew were only with you because they thought you’d become famous.

Everyday I wished you would look at me like you looked at them. And then you did, but you made me so confused when we came back that I convinced myself it must’ve been an illusion.”

“I’m sorry.”

“But I know you mean what you say.” You sigh, taking a step forward towards him. “I know you’re being honest with me. I know you well enough to know when you’re lying.”

“I’m not lying about this,” Sunghoon’s wears immediately.

“I know you love me. I know because you don’t cry about things so easily. You’re resilient like that and you’ve always pushed through. The only time I saw you like this was when you didn’t qualify for that skating competition back in grade school. But even then, you just trained harder until you qualified for the next one.

What I’m trying to say is, I don’t hate you and it would feel weird if you weren’t in my life. I don’t know where that leads us but it’s only fair that I’m honest if that’s what I expected of you.”

“I want you and only you,” Sunghoon tells you. “You are the best part of me and everyone knows that too. I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.”

Sunghoon almost doesn’t believe it when your hands cup his jawline. He doesn’t believe he’s awake when your lips touch his and when you push yourself into him like you’re afraid you’ll fall.

He holds you delicately and reciprocates your kiss. Sunghoon doesn’t dare to push you further, allowing you to take the lead and set the pace at your own discretion. When you pull away, he looks at you with plump lips and closes his eyes when he feels your thumbs wipe away his tears.

“I love you too,” you say. “I didn’t spend all of my life crushing on you just for this not to work out.”

Sunghoon laughs for the first time with you and it makes him feel like the weight of the world is no longer on his shoulders. He holds his hand with yours and kisses your palm twice.

“We should probably let the guys back in, huh?”

“I say we should all have a movie night,” you suggest. “I mean, the five of them didn’t put up with us for nothing.”

Sunghoon opens the door and beckons all of them inside, still keeping a hold on your hand as you kick your shoes to the side.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jay says with a smile. “It’s about time!”

“We love you man,” Heeseung says as he high-fives Sunghoon. He gives you a side hug when he enters the apartment. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N.”

“So are you guys dating now?” Ryujin asks.

“We still have a lot to talk about but I think we’re on the same page,” you tell her. Sunghoon kisses the crown of your head and your friends are amused when you smile.

“Y/N suggested we should have a movie night,” Sunghoon says. “I’m down for it if you guys are.”

“I am SO raiding your liquor,” says Yuna. Jay follows in tow and starts preparing the popcorn while Heeseung fetches more blankets and pillows.

“You know,” Jake says with a smirk on his face, “this is so going in my speech when you two get married.”

You and Sunghoon choke and struggle to speak.

“M-Married?” Sunghoon stutters.

“Don’t act like you don’t fantasize about Y/N being your wife. And you,” Jake says while pointing in your direction, “don’t act like Hoon isn’t what you think about day and night.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jaeyun,” you whine with heat crawling up your cheeks. You turn to bury your face in Sunghoon’s chest.

“No, don’t hide.” He pries you off of him with a pout. “It’s cute. You’re cute.” Sunghoon kisses your cheek as Jake claps his hands.

“Just remember what I said!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, waving Jake off. “Whatever you say.”

When enough time has passed for the dust to settle and for water to flow under the bridge, neither you nor Sunghoon are too surprised when Jake manages to make your friends laugh as he tells them the story of tonight after the graduation ceremony.

Jake watches as Sunghoon fixes the tassel on your cap as his mom stands to take a photo of your friend group before your life truly begins. The familiar sensation of pride swells within him when he watches the two of you, almost like it was almost meant to be.

In a way, it was.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

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