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unequivocallyreid · 2 months ago

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Why Didn’t You Tell Me?

it has been SO long... i was suffering from serious writers block but it think i'm finally out of it :)

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: Spencer Reid used to be your best friend, but things changed. How long can you pretend that you don't love him before it ruins you?

warnings: angst! (with a happy ending), smut (unprotected piv), character loss, mention of Maeve, very sad Spencer, mental health struggles, drinking/bar scene, light choking, fighting, slight praise kink

wc: 8.8k 🤗

i’m very proud of this one! i hope you love it!

Every morning when you wake up, you feel a familiar and creeping sort of dread in the pit of your stomach.

Don’t get the wrong idea; you love your job. You love helping people and stopping horrible people from ruining any more lives, but the creeping feeling and desire to get out is always in the corner of your mind. Anyone working in this field would tell you that. There’s no absolute separation between you and the victims and their families. You take all of them home with you, and you just have to learn how to deal with that and not let it eat at you.

It doesn’t help that it’s an isolating job as well. The last time you were in a serious relationship was in college. Now, every date you have ends in disappointment. Not only do you lack interest in most of the men and women, but it couldn’t go anywhere even if you did. 75% of your time is spent in the office, on a jet, or hundreds of miles away from your home.

All of this contributes to the feeling, but the worst part of your job is Dr. Spencer Reid.

He’s secretive and dismissive and just about the most attractive person you’d ever seen. You honestly don’t know what is worse: his constant physical presence in your life or the fact that you can’t stop thinking about him no matter what you do. You’ve tried to get over it; you’ve buried yourself in work, lamented to your friends, and gone out on dates (all with guys that looked vaguely similar), but nothing has worked. All his worst traits grate your nerves and light you up at the same time.

The worst part of it all is that it wasn’t always like this. When you first joined the BAU nearly two years ago, you and Spencer got along well. You were friends, he talked to you about his life, he understood you, and you really severely fell for him. He became your best friend.

Everything changed around six months ago. Spencer started to develop migraines, and as those developed, he started distancing himself from you. He became snippy and closed off, he started hiding things from you, and he stopped talking to you about life outside of Quantico. It was like overnight, you became nothing to him, and you really didn’t understand. Everyone else on the team got the same old Spencer, but you went from his right-hand man to someone he only spoke to when it was necessary.

Maybe he didn’t deserve to be vilified. You know, realistically, he can and should be able to decide who he wants to be close to, but working with a man who unknowingly broke your heart was close to the hardest thing you’d ever done. So, you decided hating him was easier. The real emotions you feel toward him sit somewhere inside you, but they have been covered by manufactured distaste. Addressing the actual feeling would hurt too bad, so you pretend to hate the things you used to love.

Nothing, however, could have prepared you for the last case you worked on: helping Spencer save a girl he met about six months ago, a girl he loved. You tried to stay collected, you said nothing when Spencer assisted when he shouldn’t have, and goddamn, did you do everything in your power to find that girl. Maeve. She was perfect for Spencer, and you saw that immediately. Everyone did. The sight of him sobbing in front of her body is one that will never leave your mind.

Now, two weeks later, no one has heard from Reid. The only indication that he hasn’t abandoned his life altogether is the absence of the gift baskets on his doorstep that Pen leaves daily.

Nearly everyone has been to his apartment, but they are met with a closed door and have yet to receive a response. Everyone but you.

Penelope is the first to bring up your lack of appearance at the end of a long day of paperwork.

“Y/n, please, you just have to try. No one is getting anything from him.”

“I really don’t think my presence would do any good,” you pause for a moment, trying to collect the thoughts running through your head like a freight train. “Me and him haven’t been close in a long time, Pen.”

Before you can continue, she cuts in, “Everyone has tried, Y/n. Hell, I’ve even considered tracking down Gideon, and I really, really do not want to do that.”

She pauses for a moment before looking up at you with a pout on her face, “Please, Y/n, for me. I can’t bear the thought of him in there all alone, just wasting away in grief.”

For someone who claims not to be a profiler, Penelope knew exactly what to say to get you to agree. She’s the only person in your life who you told about how you felt, though you’re sure everyone else (aside from Spencer) knew: you’re shit at keeping secrets.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try.”

She nearly bursts with excitement, “Thank God-“

You cut her off before she can finish, “But I’m telling you, I’m not the person he wants to hear from right now. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Yes, yes. I just want him to know we all want him to be okay.”

Before you can hurry out of the office to follow Pen’s instructions, she stops you and hands you a basket full of assorted snacks and fruits.

“Make sure he eats!”

The walk up to Spencer’s apartment is a hard one to take. The smell of his building hits you as soon as you step into the lobby. From there, everything rushes back at once. Memories of nights you spent watching reruns of Doctor Who or listening to him prattle off about whatever he last read assault you with every step. As you slowly make your way up, you start to question why you agreed to do this in the first place.

You feel a lot toward Reid. More than you should and less than you could. But all that care and feelings that are so close to love aren’t enough to make you forget why you’ve been trying to hate him for so long. He deserted you without an explanation and cut you off without a warning. You spent weeks (three months) crying over him like a love-struck teen. So, as much as you want to hold him and comfort him, you know it’ll hurt you to do so. Penelope sent you, with the whole team’s approval, you’re sure, to try to patch up a broken heart he got loving someone else. There’s a sickness in your gut, but it’s not enough to stop you from rapping your knuckles against his door.

“Spencer? It’s Y/n.”

There’s no response.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now, but I want to make sure you’re alright. Can you tell me you’re alright?”

Again, nothing.

You know he’s there. Despite your lack of communication, you know Spencer well enough to know that he would never leave his life behind entirely. That being said, your next few attempts at garnering a response are unsuccessful.

You decide to try one final time before just leaving the basket alone on his doorstep and texting Pen it was a bust.

“There’s a lot I don’t know about you now, and I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling.”

You don’t exactly know where this is headed, but you continue on regardless.

“I know you’re in there, and I know you can hear me, and I know you’re hurting. You shouldn’t- I don’t want you to be alone right now, Spence. You can either unlock your door, or I can pick it, but I’m coming in one way or the other. You know I will.”

You wouldn’t, actually. It’s a last-ditch effort, and it’s met with the same silence you’ve heard on the other side for the past ten minutes. You’re about to turn to head back down the stairs when you hear the very faint sound of a deadbolt turning.

There’s no other sound or movement, and for a moment, you think you might’ve imagined the sound, but you try the handle anyway. It turns, and the door slides open. You take a step in.

“Spencer,” you call out to him.

You don’t see him at first in the mess of his apartment, but when you do, you feel a crack form in your heart.

Beyond the clutter of his entryway, you see his back on the couch. His frame looks smaller than you’ve ever seen it, and you can see his legs curled into his chest. You set down the gift basket by a collection of others on the entry table and walk over to him. Slowly, like you’re trying not to spook a lost dog, you creep in front of him.

His head is down, and his gaze stays trained on his knees.

You reach out your hand and lay it over his. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.

“Spence, I’m so glad you opened the door.”

You didn’t plan out what you would say, but ‘sorry’ feels redundant and useless.

You go on, “I’m here. I- I don’t know what to do or say, and I’m sorry that I don’t. I can get someone else for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

You wait for him to say he wants Penelope or JJ, but it doesn’t come. Nothing comes. You start to move to get up, figuring you could clean up a bit and try to make him something to eat, then go, but he grasps your arm before you can.

He looks up at you, and his eyes hit you right in the gut. They’re bloodshot and sunken but still beautiful.

“Stay. Please. I just- I need to know I’m not dreaming. I keep thinking I’m dreaming.”

His voice is croaky from disuse and breaks at the end, but it’s so heartbreakingly earnest that you feel your breath catch. You move from your crouch and sit beside him on the couch; your hand is still in his.

You stay like that for a long time. His breathing is shakey and uneven, and every so often, his body shakes with what you can only assume are sobs. You stay pressed to his side the whole time, thumb rubbing back and forth over his hand.

Eventually, you speak again, “I’m gonna get you some food, Spence. You should eat.”

He says nothing back, but he does loosen his grip. You push yourself up from the coach with a promise you’ll be as fast as possible.

His kitchen is nearly empty, and you hope he’s been eating from the baskets. Still, you find enough to make noodles and butter, and you figure the carbs should help his energy some.

You return with the bowl. Spencer hasn’t moved, but his head follows you as you walk back over to him.

“It’s not fine dining.”

He studied you for a second, and you catch a glimpse of the old him in his eye.

“You did the same thing when I was sick on a case a year ago.”

You smile at his recollection.

“It helped you then.”

The rest of the night is spent mostly in silence. Occasionally, you tell him something to try to remind him that you’re there and that you won’t leave as long as he wants you there. Eventually, you get up from the couch again.

“Spencer, it’s too late to still be awake.”

He nods and still says nothing, but he is far more receptive than before. You reach your hand out to him to help him up from the couch, and he takes it.

He leads you to his room at a slow pace. His head stays down as you both take a seat on his bed, hands still interlocked. Being in his bedroom is odd for you. You’ve been to his apartment quite a few times before he disappeared from your life, but you never breached this space. It’s all very him. Almost surprisingly cozy, with books scattered around nearly everywhere there’s space.

You take in the moment for a beat before saying, “I’m gonna head home, Spencer, but please call me if you need anything at all. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

This makes his head snap up, and his eyes lock with yours.

“Please stay.”

That’s all he says, but every part of him is pleading with you. It’s not a good idea, and you know it. You’re the only person he’s seen in days, you aren’t close anymore, and you don’t particularly want to sleep on a couch tonight.

“Spencer, I don’t want to sleep in your living room tonight. I’ll come back.”

He pauses for a moment, “You can stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

Your heart cracks again. There was a time when this was all you wanted. It’s still, deep down, all you want, just not like this. You know he doesn’t really want you there and he’s not himself. But you aren’t strong enough to say no, so you don’t.

He gets you clothes to wear, and you change in his bathroom. You come out and find him in his bed, laying with his back to you. You have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you get into bed next to him anyways. There are a thousand thoughts racing through your head, but the prevailing one is how badly you want to touch him, to hold him, to make him forget, just for the night. You stay still, though, confined to the edge of the bed and start to count to drown out the noise.

Though, you can’t drown out his voice, saying, “Can- Could you hold me? I think that everything feels better when you touch me.”

Another crack. By the end of this, you know Spencer Reid is going to break your heart all over again.

When you wake up the next morning, Spencer is still asleep. You sneak out of his room and call Hotch. When he answers, you tell him Spencer has let you in, and you ask for time off to try to help. You can tell from his voice that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but he grants you it anyway.

Much of your day is spent like the night before. You stay next to Spencer, and you cook for him after leaving to pick up clothes and groceries. Then, you get him to shower and wash his hair. He sleeps with his head in your lap, and you feel like a fucking idiot at first, but as long as it’s helping him in some way, you let it happen.

That’s the thing: you don’t really know how to help him. You know he isn’t the type to talk about something until he is entirely ready, so all you can do is add something domestic and bright to his life while he grieves. It’s all you can think about in the moments of silence. Hell, you even read to him to try and get your mind off of it, but it barely helps.

The night is the same. You change in different rooms and slip into his bed at different times. You feel dirty for imagining what it would be like if the circumstances were different: if he wanted you like you have wanted him for the past two years. You hold him against you, and you pray for sign that you should be there.

The sign comes the following morning when Derek calls you.

“Y/n…”

You can hear his teasing tone over the phone.

“Hi, Derek.”

“What are you doing, mamas?”

You sigh, “What do you mean?”

You’re playing coy. You know he’s wondering why you’re at Spencer’s house, picking up the pieces, but you won’t be the one to bring it up.

“Why’d you ask Hotch for the week off, Y/n?”

Another sigh, “You know why, Derek. I just, I want to help him.”

“I know you do, Y/n, I know.”

He pauses for a moment, and you let the moment fill with silence.

“I know you care about him. We all care about him. But who is taking care of you?”

“I am. I can take care of him, and I can take care of me.”

“I know you can, but I don’t want you to get hurt, Y/n. Don’t let this be something that hurts you.”

“It won’t. I- You have to- Fuck, I’ll be fine. He’s not fine. I don’t care about me or any feelings that may get hurt right now. I’ll be fine.”

There’s another bear of silence, “Okay, Y/n. Just know you’re allowed to tap out.”

You try to think of anything else to say, but nothing comes, so you say your goodbyes.

You won’t need to tap out. You can take care of him and be good to him and ignore the other feelings you have. You can be good.

The call does make you think it’s time to push, to try harder, to help him get better. So, you approach him that day before bed, before he tucks himself into your arms and falls into a fretful sleep.

“Spencer?”

He takes a moment and then responds, “Yes?”

“You have to talk about it. I think that you need to talk about it. It doesn’t have to be to me but to someone.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and your breath is caught in your throat, waiting for him to say anything.

“I- I don’t want to,” his voice cracks while he says it.

“Spence, you can’t come back if you don’t. You can’t move forward if you don’t.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

A ringing echos in your ears.

“You don’t mean that. She- she would want you to keep going.”

Wrong thing to say.

“You don’t know anything about what she would want.”

He’s seething now, below the surface, but smoke has started to plume from his ears. Still, you don’t stop.

“Spencer, everyone knows that. No one would want you to put your life on hold.”

He speaks his next line through his teeth, “You don’t know anything, Y/n.”

You’ve never heard him sound so angry.

“Spencer-“

“No, just stop. You don’t know her. You don’t know me half as well as you think you do. You don’t know anything. I don’t even know why you’re here. I don’t want you here. You can't be what I need.”

The ringing in your ears is louder.

“Spencer, please. Just-“

“No!” His voice is raised now, bordering on a yell, “I don’t want you here. I want you out, Y/n.”

This has to be what shell shock feels like. The ringing, the tingle in your limbs, and the heat in your face. You don’t know how you are moving, but you are.

His voice is echoing in your head, or maybe he’s still talking, but you can’t tell either way. The only thing you can focus on is how Spencer sounded like he hates you and that Morgan was right about the hurt.

You spend the next day trying desperately to shut down the noise in your head. It doesn’t work. The day after is the same. And the days following that. You ignore calls when they come, you ignore the texts, but you can’t stop looking at your phone for a message from the man who fills your thoughts.

Spencer doesn’t call, obviously, and you have to sit with a pit in your stomach while you beg yourself to just get the fuck over it. Two years of reckoning with the severity of your love, months of watching him live happily without you, and it’s the three days you spent trying to help him feel incrementally better that floor you.

You feel like a dumb teenage girl with so much love and nothing to do with it. On top of everything, you feel selfish. Spencer lost the love of his life forever, and you’re nursing the worst heartbreak of your life because a boy will never want you and never has. Still, you send out prayers for him over and over. You hope you’ll see him in the BAU again, even if his eyes glaze over you. Hell, even if they look at you with hate the way they did two days ago. You just want him to function. You want him to be good and eventually be happy. You try to go to bed with soothing thoughts, but you end up with a mantra of his name.

You wake to your alarm and dress for work before you realize you aren’t actually supposed to go back yet. You never set a date to return. You wanted to be open as long as Spencer needed you. You’re supposed to be with him. You’re supposed to be helping and not tapping out. But you aren’t.

You have no reason not to return to the bullpen, so you do. You walk in and feel eyes on you. You wait for Morgan to call out to you, but he doesn’t, so you follow the feeling.

Your breath catches in your throat; it’s Spencer. He’s sitting at his desk, paperwork spread out, and he doesn’t look away from your gaze; he just holds it. His face is unreadable, and yours is definitely not, so you look away first. You don’t look up again until you reach Hotch’s office. You knock and hear him call out to come in.

“I’m back if that’s okay.”

He looks up at you, and you want to cry. You know he can read you. He has always been the best at it.

“Are you okay with that, Y/l/n?”

You lock eyes with him, “Yes, sir.”

It’s no use; he knows your tells and you aren’t being honest.

“Alright, conference room in five.”

Whatever he sees in your face, he ignores and takes you at your word, but there’s a warning in his tone. He knows when to let things go and when to push. More than that, though, he knows you’d never let something like this affect your work.

The first case back is in Maryland, and the one after is in Austin, and the next is in Philadelphia with The Replicator. The job takes you all over the country, and the cases blend together. You don’t speak to Spencer through all of it. You’re never partnered, never work together, you sit on opposite ends of the jet. You don’t even speak at Strauss’ funeral. It’s radio silent, and everyone notices it, but no one brings it up.

In that time, you allow yourself to slip away slightly. You don’t go out with the team, you see Pen at nearly half frequency, and basically, the only time you speak is on cases. It’s stupid and melodramatic, but you call it healing. Derek tries to reason with you, JJ sticks to you a bit more than usual, and Penelope calls you virtually whenever she can, but their efforts are mostly in vain. This is your way of protecting yourself. You feel like you have to isolate in order to improve, and you know, given time, you will come back to yourself.

Penelope’s insistence that you go to her Day of the Dead celebration breaks your distance.

“Y/n, please come. I know you aren’t going out, but you have to. I know you have people to honor, and I need you there.”

You sigh, “Whose going, Pen?”

“The team, which you are a part of, so you must be there.”

“I don’t think I can do that. I promise you I will celebrate with you. I’ll help you set up, just please don’t make me go.”

Penelope pauses, but the glint in her eye keys you into the fact that she is not interested in giving up.

“We miss you, Y/n. Everyone loves you and misses you. You’ve been living this stupid, isolated life, and it’s time for you to come back. You are not this person. I refuse to believe it. You’re coming, and that’s final.”

Maybe you don’t have the energy to argue, or maybe you know she’s right, but you agree to go.

The thought of seeing him makes your heart race, and the clock you keep glancing at makes it worse. Just a few more hours before you're trapped in a confined space (Pen’s beautiful home) with a man you haven’t spoken to in weeks.

You busy yourself with preparing. Lights are hung, food is made, and you make a trip to the store while Pen sets up her remembrance table. When everything is said and done, you can’t help but feel this is the most beautiful thing you’ve been a part of in a long time.

The first knock comes at 7:30 exactly, and it’s Hotch and Rossi. They are followed closely by Blake, then Derek and JJ. By 7:00, the atmosphere is light and loving, and you feel a bit of your anxiety let up as the minutes go by without Reid. But, eventually, the knock comes, of course it does, and you move into a corner as Spencer walks in. You feel a shift in energy, though you doubt it’s palpable for anyone else. Rossi is the first to make his way over to you, and his presence comforts you nearly immediately.

“How you doing, kid?” His voice is soft like he’s speaking to a scared rabbit.

“I’m better,” you say, and it’s about as honest as you can get. As much as you’d like to think he knows nothing about what’s gone on, you’re smarter than that. He’s the best profiler on the team, and he’s always known when someone was off with you. Even so, you are better than you were, even if you aren’t quite good, and you know he believes you.

There’s some idle conversation between you before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not tonight. I don’t know when, but I will. Eventually, I will.”

It’s good enough for him, and you move on easily, which surprises you.

Right before Pen gathers you all to present your photos, he says, “Sometimes we think we’ve seen the whole picture, but we miss a big part. People do things because they don’t want to be hurt, but those things hurt them more. Just, be open.”

You don’t quite understand what he means, but you hope you will.

Penelope presents the first picture, which shows her parents. JJ honors her sister, Derek, his dad, Hotch Haley, and Rossi, Hernandez; then it’s your turn. You place down a photo of your best friend. You hadn’t talked much about her, but you think of her daily. She passed a few years before you joined the BAU.

“I was lucky to have someone that hurt that much to lose.”

That’s all you say, but it’s enough for you, and it would be enough for her.

Spencer is last. He places down a picture of Tesla and a picture of Maeve. Your heart is heavy for everyone.

The night dwindles from there. Hotch and Rossi say their goodbyes, and Rossi gives you a knowing look as he leaves. You just smile. You stay for a few minutes after, but eventually, you move to leave as well.

You make it down Garcia’s porch before you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn, and it’s Spencer’s face you see.

“Would you- Do you think you could come over? Do you think we could talk?”

The feeling you have walking up to Spencer's apartment is similar to what you felt the last time. You’re incredibly anxious, but at least you know you’ll be let in this time.

The drive over was silent. Spencer had taken the metro to Penelope’s, so he rode with you. It wasn’t necessarily awkward. There was just an understanding that the car wasn’t the place to begin your conversation.

Now, as Spencer unlocked his door, it’s one of those rare moments you felt starved for words, and you know it’s because you’re scared you’ll say the wrong thing and face the same reaction that you did the last time you were in his home.

He leads you to his living room and motions for you to sit, and you do. The two of you are on opposite ends of his couch while you wait for him to say something.

His first words are airy and light, “Thank you for letting me talk to you.”

You look at him but remain silent, waiting for him to go on. All you can think about is why he wants to speak to you at all. The last time you spoke, he made it incredibly clear he did not want you in his life or around him at all.

Before you can think about it more and let your anger and sadness build, he speaks again, “I feel really stupid right now. I kind of feel stupid whenever I’m around you recently.”

He pauses momentarily before going on, “I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. About the last time we spoke. I’ve been thinking about it pretty constantly for the past few weeks.”

You open your mouth, unsure of what exactly to say, but you can’t get there before he’s off again.

“I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore. I don’t think I’ve known how to for a long time. I just, I need you to know how sorry I am for speaking to you like that.”

He takes a shakey breath but keeps going, “That wasn’t me, and that isn’t how I feel. I’m just unbelievably sorry, Y/n.”

He stops there, and you work to collect your thoughts.

“I know. A part of me knows, at least, that you didn’t mean it. I just wanted to be there for you, and hearing that made me- I just- I think it made me hate myself for wanting to be there.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m unbelievably sorry.”

“You didn’t talk to me for months, Spencer. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why you let me in in the first place. I thought you hated me.”

He’s silent for a long minute.

“I never hated you, Y/n. I just stopped knowing how to act around you, and then I met Maeve. I fell so deep into it that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I- And I just started to feel like you didn’t want me to speak to you, so I didn’t. But, when you came here, after everything, I guess I just felt like you were the only person who would get it. You never, no one on the team ever treated me or talked to me how you did. I just wanted that.”

Tears had begun to well in your eyes now. A part of you gets what he means, at least about letting you in, but the other part is so confused as to why he stopped being comfortable around you.

“I don’t understand, Spencer. Why did you stop knowing how to be around me?”

There’s desperation in your voice that makes you sound like a stranger to yourself. Maybe you’re a stranger to everyone right now.

“I uh, I don’t really know.”

“That's not fair, Spence.”

You’re crying now. Just a little bit, but you can feel the wetness on your cheeks. You can see that you are by the look on his face. He looks broken, and you know it's a reflection of your own image.

You wipe your face, “Thank you for apologizing, Spencer. I just, there are parts of this all that I don’t understand, and if you can't explain them to me, I don’t think I ever will.”

“Y/n-,” he calls out your name like a prayer.

“It’s okay, Spence. You don’t have to say anything more. We talked, and things will go back to how they were eventually.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

You smile sadly as you get up to leave.

“I am, too, for what it's worth. For whatever I did to make things change in the first place.”

You leave it at that, and it takes everything in you not to look back as you leave his apartment.

Things do get easier after that. Not completely. You still love him, and it hurts, but it helps to know he doesn’t hate you. He talks to you some, cordial things, and you do the same. You're sure your teammates still sense something is off, but this works for you. Right now, it works. Getting over him, not loving him anymore, is going to take work, but eventually, you know that you won’t hurt anymore.

Shortly after you and him talked, you started going back out with your friends. Spencer joined periodically, but that was normal. Bars were never really his scene.

Tonight, everyone gathers at your local pub. Your last case was particularly grueling, and you all need a way to blow off some steam. It's fun, and you feel good, even with Spencer sitting across from you. You feel proud of yourself for getting to this point.

JJ and Penelope feed you drinks to try and get you to dance, and you let them. Tonight feels as good of a night as any to ‘get back out there’ as Pen says. So, you do. You dance with them, and you ward off the other cops and agents around you who try to pull you away from your group. You aren’t interested in that. Right now, you're just having an appropriate amount of fun for a woman 15 feet from her boss.

Time goes by quickly, and by the time you get back to the table, you, Derek, Penelope, and JJ remain. He tells you that Hotch, Rossi, Reid, and Alex left a few minutes before. The conversation between you flows for a while, up until the drinks loosen Penelope up enough to bring up what you were pretty sure the team designated a no-no topic.

“Y/n, you have to talk about it.”

You’re still laughing as something Derek said when you reply, “What?”

“You know what. You and Boy-Genius. What on Earth happened? You went from ice-cold to semi-friendly. None of us saw it coming.”

“Babygirl-,” Derek tries to stop her, but you cut him off.

“No, it’s okay. I have to talk about it at some point, and I think right now is the only time I’ll be tipsy enough to let you get it out of me.”

You're still laughing slightly, but the pit that's lived in your stomach for the past few months starts to rear its head.

“After your Day of the Dead party, he asked to talk to me. I went to his place, and he apologized. I don’t really understand what he said or what he meant, but I can’t be sad about him forever.”

Pen perks up a bit at that, “I knew that party would bring good things!”

You giggle a bit at her outburst, but then JJ asks, “What did he say?”

The faces around you all tune in at that. You know they don’t see this as gossip. They care about you both too much to trivialize it like that.

“He just said that he stopped knowing how to act around me, and he didn’t know why, but then he met Maeve, and I guess it didn’t matter so much after that. He was my best friend, and then he was nothing.”

JJ shares a glance with Derek and then speaks, “Oh, Y/n.”

“What?”

After a beat, Derek says, “He didn’t just not know how to act around you.”

Now you're confused, “What do you mean? I talked to him, that's what he said. He didn’t know why. I mean, he knows everything and didn’t know why he didn’t want to be around me anymore. How fucking stupid is that.”

You laugh again, but it does come off as genuine in the slightest.

“Y/n, he probably doesn’t really know why. At least not fully. For someone as smart as he is, the kid can be really stupid.”

“Stop being cryptic.”

Derek sighs but goes on, “Pretty girl, pretty boy was in love with you. Probably still is. He just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same.”

“No. That's not true.”

You look at the others around you, but their faces are serious.

“He loved Maeve. He loves Maeve. That, that doesn’t make any sense.”

It's JJ’s turn to talk now.

“He definitely did love Maeve, no one is denying that, but we all saw how he was around you. His whole relationship with her was safe. He couldn’t be hurt by her rejection every day because he had no way of seeing her. With you, he could.”

Your mind is moving a mile a minute, “Did he tell you guys this?”

Penelope puts her hand over yours and says, “He didn’t have to, love. We all say the way he looked at you and acted around you. The way he talked about you. That boy was head over heels.”

“Guys, I appreciate whatever you’re trying to do, but this isn’t real. Spencer doesn’t- this is not real.”

“Y/n, pause. Think about the way he acted around you, the things he said. Think about how Reid is.”

You hear what Derek said, but it all sounds faint like someone stuffed your ears with cotton while you weren't paying attention. All you can focus on are the different scenes running through your head, the scenes of your life with Spencer in it. How he memorized your coffee order and brought it for you every day, how he never shied away from your touch despite his aversion to contact, how he consistently went out of his way to protect you on the field. At his house after everything, the way he clung to you and wanted to be held. How he said in his own words, “You can't be what I need”; not “you aren’t,” but “you can’t.”

Your whole world is crashing down in this bar, and you can’t do anything to stop it.

“Y/n?”

JJ’s voice snaps you out of your spiral.

“Just go talk to him.”

You nod mutely, and you get up.

Everything in the last ten months of your life has led you to the exact spot you were when everything blew up in the first place: Spencer’s door.

This time, you aren't too worried about him not letting you in. If anything, it's the opposite. Him opening this door could open a hundred others, and you don’t quite know if you are ready for any of them. You sit there and sit there and sit there, trying to work up the courage to knock, though you aren’t sure it's there to begin with. Right as you're about to walk away and decide you’ll come back another day, his door swings open.

“Y/n?”

His face is lit up with shock, and you notice his hand that is not on the door is holding his pistol.

“What are you doing here?”

You don’t answer, “Why did you open the door?”

He sets his piece down on the entry table before responding, “I heard footsteps in the hall and saw they stopped here. I was anxious. 50.3% of home invasions happen between 8:00 pm and 7:00 am.” He cuts himself off there, “Y/n, why are you here?”

You didn’t pay attention to anything he said. All you could think about was the way his lips were moving and the way his eyes locked onto yours as he talked.

“Do you love me?”

That is not what you wanted to say.

His lips fall open as he takes in a sharp breath, “What?”

“Or I guess did you love me? Before everything? Because Derek and JJ and Pen, they all said that you loved me, and now I can’t think about anything else, Spencer.”

He doesn’t speak, but you don't really give him a chance to.

“I just, I know I sound crazy right now, but I feel fucking crazy. I keep going over everything in my head, and I have been, for the past year I have been, but now it’s all different. It's all different because they said that you loved me, but you didn’t think I’d feel the same way.”

Here, you do pause, but he still doesn’t say anything, so you go on before you can stop yourself.

“Because if that's true, Spencer, it's just- I did. I do. And if it's not, then please just tell me so I can stop feeling this way.”

He sounds resigned when he says, “Y/n,” and you feel like you know what that means.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I'm doing this. You don’t have to say anything. Actually, please don’t say anything. I don't think I can hear it. Just pretend I never-”

He cuts off your ramble, “Y/n, stop.”

You draw your eyes from the floor, look up at him, and find something in his gaze you have never seen before. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you, and it takes everything you have not to look away. His hand raises to cup your jaw, and your skin lights on fire. Before you can process what he’s doing, you feel his lips press against yours, and something clicks. At first, his touch is light, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. But, when he grasps that you won’t, he presses himself to you harder, and all you can think about is how nothing has ever felt so right.

His lips move against yours, and you don’t know how you're managing to reciprocate because it feels like everything in your body has gone fuzzy. The kiss is by no means long, but it feels like it lasts forever, and by the time he pulls away, you’re breathless.

His forehead stays connected to yours, and he whispers, “I do, Y/n, love you. I have.”

You don’t feel the tears on your cheeks until he’s wiping them away.

“Oh, Y/n.”

“Did you know? That you did? Is that why…”

You trail off, hoping he’ll pick up on what you're asking, and he does.

“I didn’t at first, or I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you until it happened. I got scared, so I ran. I just never thought that you could feel the same or that I was hurting you. I didn’t realize that. I just thought I was doing what was best for us. I felt guilty for being in love with my best friend.”

“And Maeve?”

“I loved Maeve. I’ll always have love for her. I was trying to move on, and I thought I could eventually be with her and be around you without it hurting. I wish I would have told you this before.”

“You’re telling me now. That's enough.”

This time, it's you who pushes your lips to meet his. Your arms snake around his neck, and his fall to your waist. You follow when he pulls you into his apartment and closes the door. There is still pain on both sides, but you can feel it dissipating as you cling to each other. You’re just two broken people who have finally found a way to each other.

This kiss is different, hungrier. Neither of you pulls away for longer than a few seconds as you navigate your way from his entryway to his couch. Every touch is desperate like you're searching for something you never knew existed until now. His hands pull you closer and closer until he's pulling you on top of him, and each of your legs rests on opposite sides of his hips.

Your lips break from his for a moment, “What do you want, Spence?”

His reply is instant, “You.”

From there, things move faster. Your hands unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders while he undoes your pants. There are moments of awkwardness that come with exploring another for the first time, but it feels good. His hands trace over your hips and push further until you're left on top of him in only your underwear and bra. He takes you in like you are something to be marveled at, and you know your eyes reflect the same adoration.

You raise yourself off of him and work to get him in the same state of undress as you, and when you position yourself on top of him, you feel his length press against your center. The two thin layers of fabric do little to hinder the intensity as you rock into him. He lets out quiet moans at the action as his lips trace down your neck and over your collarbone.

His breath ghosts over you and makes you shiver when he asks, “Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

His hand moves between the two of you, and his fingers find your clit easily, rubbing circles over the fabric of your panties. You pant his name against his lips at the action. You feel like your whole body is lit up, and under any other circumstance, you'd feel embarrassed at how worked up you are, but you can’t seem to care.

After a few moments, he lifts you up and carries you to his bedroom. From there, he positions you below him on the bed, removing your remaining clothes in the same motion. The new setup lets you grip him, and he feels big in your hand. His fingers resume their previous assault before dipping down into you. You cry out at the feeling of him inside you, slowly pushing in and out, finding a spot that makes your legs start to shake. He’s relentless in his pursuit and all you can muster up the energy to say is his name.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

It's somewhere between a whimper and a whisper, but the sound of his voice causes you to clench around his fingers.

He picks up on this, of course he does, and quickens his pace as he coos at you.

“So pretty like this. I’m so lucky.”

You’re embarrassingly close already, so when he moves his thumb over your clit to rub circles as he fucks into you with his fingers, you come undone almost instantly with a warning and cry of his name. He works you through your orgasm, all while whispering praise in your ear. Once you come down from your high, you start to push his boxers down his legs, but he stops you before you can fully.

“We don’t have to do anything more, Y/n. I liked just making you feel good.”

“I want more. I want to feel you if you want that too.”

“Of course I do. I just don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I couldn’t regret this, Spencer. I love you. I want all of you.”

It's the first time you’ve actually said those three words to him, and it feels so fucking good to say.

“I love you, too. God, so much.”

With that, he positions himself back on top of you, running his fingers over your slit gently before gripping himself.

“Do you have a condom?”

“I might somewhere, but I have an IUD, and I’m clean. I can try to find one if you’re more comfortable with that?”

“IUDs have a failure rate of around .05% and are largely considered the most effective form of birth control, so uh, as long as you're okay with it, I am.”

You smile to yourself at his statistic but nod, “I want to feel you, Spencer.”

He returns your smile before rubbing his length over your entrance a few times and slowly pushing himself into you just slightly. He teases you, or maybe himself, for a moment before fully entering you. You push your hips up to meet his, and feeling him in his entirety makes your jaw fall open. He’s big, and you feel unbelievably full.

He waits a moment for you to adjust before he starts to develop a rhythm. His hands are everywhere, but his eyes are focused solely on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a moment of your reaction to him inside of you. To be fair, you are probably putting on a good show. Every movement he makes hits you in exactly the right spot, and you don’t think you could be louder if you tried. You can feel the leg he’s not holding up against his shoulder shake against the bed. Your first orgasm has made way for your second to be incredibly close.

“Spencer, please.”

You’re crying out, desperate for a little more to push you over the edge.

“What do you need, baby?” His voice is tight like he’s not far himself, and it sounds better than anything you’ve ever heard.

“Harder. Please, harder.”

He takes your direction immediately, rubbing circles on your clit with one hand while he thrusts into you with a bruising force. He’s fucking you like he wants you to remember the feeling long after he stops, and you know that you will. Everything about it is overwhelming: his smell, his pace, his eyes. You are covered in him, and he is covered in you.

After a moment, the hand he had on your stomach trails up to grasp lightly at your throat, and you fall into feeling. You can’t warn him that you're about to come before you do. The feeling is white hot. Bigger than your first, and the fact that you're coming on him sends you into overdrive. You can feel his hips falter for a moment, but you're lost in a daze, crying out his name.

He pumps into you a few more times before he follows suit. He pulls out, and you feel stripes of his come paint your cunt and lower stomach as he finishes with a moan of your name.

He falls next to you on the bed, and it takes you both a few moments to collect yourselves and catch your breath.

Once you do, the only thing you can think to say is, “I love you.”

It feels like those are the only words circling around in your head at the moment. Some mixture of his name and that declaration. While you know you each said it before, that your profession was the exigence of the sex you just had, it feels uniquely vulnerable to say now. It’s like the moment you just had together could have changed things or made him realize that he doesn’t actually love you after all.

That shoe doesn’t drop, though. Instead, you hear the three words echoed back to you by a man who, 6 hours ago, you thought would never, ever say them.

You turn to face him, and the love on his face feels like it could knock you out. He’s looking at you and smiling in a way you haven't seen in a long time.

“Will you let me clean you up?”

You know that part of the reason he’s asking has something to do with the likelihood of bacteria growth or something like that, but you think it's mainly that he wants to take care of you. Him wetting a rag and running it over you feels intimate in a different way, in an excruciatingly gentle way. Personal in a way that makes you feel like nothing between you could ever be wrong again, and maybe that's naive to think, but you feel hopeful regardless.

Once he finishes, he takes his space back next to you in the bed. This time, he pulls you into his arms, and it's different than it was all those months ago. This time, you know that he won’t push you away and that you won't hurt yourself by being next to him. This time, you just tuck yourself into him, and you let him whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you begin to drift off. This time, it feels like peace.

The following day, you wake up to Spencer still next to you, looking incredibly soft in the early morning light. You search for a moment to find your phone in the piles of clothes and are greeted with a text from Pen.

How did it go????

You smile before turning your phone off and climbing back into bed next to the man you love. It couldn’t have gone better.

all done! yay!!!

i hope you guys love it!! i’m not 100% happy with the ending but i’ve been writing this for so long and just needed to be done.

this is my first time writing angst on here and my longest fic, so PLEASE tell me what you think! all (nice) feedback is welcome and i love to hear from you guys!! :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #fic rec #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #friends to lovers #friends to enemies to lovers #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic rec

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zaczenemiji · 5 months ago

Note

Hi I hope you are having a lovely day my dear ♥. I was wondering if you could do a Kenji Sato x reader where the reader is an assistant manager to him and one day he like acts arrogantly towards her during one of his interviews when he sees a pretty journalist amongst the crowed of ppl interviewing him and he says some hurtful things to reader and collectively ignoring her and instead choosing to focus on the journalists girl. Ever since that day reader has been silent around Sato and he thought he didn't care but it bothered him because even though she is usually quite, these days she is *too* quite and then there is like a mini celebration for like a baseball game win and reader goes with a guy who is like an athlete but is not as famous as Sato. So the kicker is reader is absolutely DROP DEAD GORGEOUS and ppl at the party even think she is a model. So Sato get jealous and he acts all possessive and protective of her , while she is still angry at him but eventually he makes it up to her over time. If you have anything else to add please do.

Shattered Pride

Kenji Sato x AssistantManager!Reader

Word Count: 1,873

Genre/Warnings: Character Development, Eventual Romance, Forgiveness, Jealousy, Regret, Redemption

Author’s Note: The idea behind this was just fantastic! Thank you so much for the request, writing this was my honor.

MASTERLIST

Being Kenji Sato’s assistant manager is not an easy task. I repeat: Not. An. Easy. Task. Throughout his baseball career, he has had several assistants who quit as soon as they were hired because, for one thing, Kenji is stubborn.

Ghosted interviews, off-topic answers, and insults to other players were just some of the many things about him that gave you a headache.

You remember being referred to him by his last assistant saying that it was a high-paying job. However, you were skeptical at how quickly and willing they were to give off their job to another person.

You understood why the first time you met him. After the meeting, you asked him, “Is there anything else you need from me today?”

In response, he gave an irritated sigh. “If I needed something, I would have asked.”

Thankfully, you were more on the nonchalant scale, and how people respond to you didn’t bother you much. You were here to do your job—and excellently at that, not exactly to be friends with an arrogant baseball star.

Kenji’s behavior was… challenging, that’s the best word for it. He barked orders, rarely said thank you, and seemed to take your presence for granted. But in conditions like these, you thrive the most; you succeed where others have failed.

Today was a usual day with the usual crowd of journalists and fans gathering in the conference room. You stood by his side, ensuring everything was in order for yet another post-game interview.

It was going all smooth and well when Kenji suddenly paused mid-sentence. It was a very short pause that wouldn’t be noticeable to others but you, with all the time you spent as his assistant, noticed it.

Your eyes looked in the direction he kept glancing at. A girl, of course, strikingly beautiful with long sleek back hair that cascaded down in soft waves.

When it was her turn to ask, Kenji leaned forward to give her a dazzling smile. “Why don’t you ask me a question?” he said, ignoring the list of pre-approved questions you handed him before the interview started.

Kenji was holding court with this journalist longer than he should. You noticed that the others in line were starting to murmur in annoyance.

You stepped forward, maintaining your professional demeanor. “Excuse me, Mr. Sato, but we need to move on,” you said. “Other journalists are waiting for their turn.”

“I’m not done here,” he said arrogantly, not bothering to look your way.

You took a deep breath, wanting to handle this situation diplomatically. “I understand,” you said. “But we’ve exceeded the time limit, and it’s only fair to give everyone a chance.”

Whichever agency’s plan was it to send her here to get ahead of other journalists, it’s working. She gave you a polite smile, clearly enjoying the extra attention.

Kenji frowned and turned to you. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something important?” He asked. “If you can’t manage your job properly, maybe you should reconsider.”

Your eyes widened. You could feel others’ on you, their stares almost cutting through your professional facade.

Swallowing your pride, you nodded and stepped back, keeping your expression neutral. But as neutral as you looked, deep down you felt a mix of anger and humiliation.

From that day on, you remained silent around Kenji, only speaking when necessary. You remained professional though, and you made sure that your job was not compromised.

During meetings, you no longer offered insights unless directly asked. When you did speak, your tone was strictly professional. Well, it has always been, but the warmth that characterized your interactions was now gone.

Like that one time during a team strategy meeting. Kenji asked for input on a new play. The room fell silent as everyone waited for your usual insightful suggestions, but you simply looked down at your notes, saying nothing.

The coach glanced at you, surprised. "Any thoughts, (y/n)?" You shook your head. "No, Coach. Nothing to add."

At first, Kenji was oblivious to all of this. He was absorbed in his own world and the adulation of his fans, as always. But as the days turned into weeks, your silence grew too loud to ignore that even he finally noticed it.

A month later, the team planned on celebrating a recent major win. This time, they have decided to invite other athletes as guests of honor. The organizers wanted to have a mix of established stars and up-and-coming talents from the sports world.

You decided to take this as an opportunity to have yourself pampered. You have been working hard, after all. Despite the obvious tension between you and Kenji, you were still able to do your job well.

That’s why at the party, you were stunning. Drop dead gorgeous, as the team said. Though the lights were dim, it seemed as if a spotlight was following you as everyone you passed by turned their heads to look.

You decided to settle by the bar for drinks. “Hey there,” came a familiar voice. You turned to see Jake approaching. He was one of the promising young athletes and a rising star in the sports world who was invited to this party.

He plays as a forward for a popular soccer team and has recently garnered attention for his impressive performance in the league. This wasn’t the first time you met as Jake and Kenji ran into each other a couple times before at different events.

He leaned against the bar, signaling the bartender for a drink. “It’s nice to see you again and this time, enjoying yourself,” he said. “You looked like you needed a break at the last event we were at.”

You chuckled softly, appreciating his observation. "Yeah, it's been a bit hectic lately."

Jake's drink arrived, and he took a sip, his eyes studying you with genuine interest. “Well, you look incredible tonight,” he said. “Have you been hearing what the others are saying?”

Jake turned to glance at the crowd, then back at you. “They were all asking if you were a model or something,” he said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think the same.”

“Thanks, Jake,” you replied, smiling. “You clean up pretty well yourself."

He laughed, a warm, infectious sound that put you at ease. "So, how's work been treating you? Still managing the chaos that is Kenji Sato?"

You hesitated, the memory of Kenji's recent behavior still fresh. "It's been… challenging," you admitted. "But I manage."

Jake's expression softened with understanding. "I can imagine. He's got a reputation for being difficult."

Unbeknownst to both of you, the baseball star you were talking about has finally arrived. His presence commanded attention as he navigated through the crowd, exchanging greetings and handshakes.

As he made his way deeper into the club, his eyes caught sight of you. At that moment he froze. Or was it time that froze? He didn’t know. All he was sure of was that for a little while, he couldn’t breathe.

You were stunning. Your outfit, a sleek, form-fitting dress that accentuated your every curve, made you look like you had just stepped off a runway. Your hair was styled to perfection, your makeup highlighting your natural beauty.

Suddenly, he noticed the man you were talking to, Jake. “That rookie soccer player,” he thought. Gosh, you deserved so much better. At that moment, with firm resolve, he declared upon himself that he would work to be the better that you deserved.

Kenjl's jaw clenched as his own possessive instincts flared up, a mix of jealousy and protectiveness surging through him. He made his way over to you, his eyes never leaving your form.

On your end, you noticed the crowd parted slightly, and you saw Kenji making his way towards you.

Turning slightly, you met Kenji’s gaze with a cool, indifferent look. "Kenji," you acknowledged, your tone polite but distant.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked, his voice tight with barely restrained emotion.

Jake looked at you, his gaze asking if you were fine with it. You smiled at him, a genuine and warm expression, something you haven’t given Kenji in a while. “I’ll go on ahead,” you told Jake. “See you around.”

Kenji led you away from the crowd, finding a quieter corner of the club. As soon as you were out of earshot, he turned to you, his eyes dark with jealousy.

"Why didn't you come with me?" Kenji asked, his frustration evident.

You scoffed. “First of all, you didn’t ask me to.” You crossed your arms, fixing him with a hard stare. "And you made it very clear where I stand with you. Or rather, where I don't."

He winced, the memory of his hurtful words coming back to haunt him. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer now. "I was wrong. I was an idiot."

You remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

“I've been a jerk, and I know it,” he continued. “I was arrogant, dismissive, and I took you for granted.”

You watch him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. Yet you looked away, the hurt still fresh. "You hurt me, Kenji,” you said. “You made me feel worthless and unimportant."

Kenji steps closer, his voice filled with regret. “I know, I'm so sorry. I was so focused on myself, on my career, that I didn't see how much I was hurting you. Your silence has been killing me. I miss your insights, your presence.”

He paused for a while before continuing. “I miss you.” He reaches out, gently taking your hand.

“You're more than just my assistant,” he said. “You're the reason I can do what I do. You make everything better, and I've been too blind to see it. Please, give me a chance to make it right. I want to earn back your trust.”

You met his gaze, searching for any sign of insincerity. All you saw was genuine regret and a longing to make things right. "This isn't something that can be fixed overnight, Kenji."

"I know," he said quickly. "I'll do whatever it takes, for as long as it takes. I just... I can't lose you."

You took a deep breath, the weight of his words sinking in. "We'll see," you said. "But it won't be easy."

He nodded, relief flooding his features. "I understand,” he said. “Thank you, (y/n)—for giving me a chance.”

As you walked back to the party, Kenji stayed close by your side, protective and possessive. arm subtly wrapped around your waist, a clear signal to everyone around that you were with him.

As the night came to an end, Kenji offered to drive you home. To which, you agreed. The drive home was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything else, it was rather hopeful.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day, Kenji found you alone in the office. “Hey," he said softly, "I was thinking we could grab dinner. Just the two of us."

You looked up, surprised. "Dinner?"

He nodded, a hopeful smile on his face. "Yeah. To thank you for everything. And to make up for being such an idiot."

You smiled at him for a moment before nodding. "Okay. Dinner sounds nice."

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie

#kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #ken sato x reader #ken sato #ultraman: rising #ultraman #fanfiction #oneshot

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haetrack · 5 months ago

Text

pro: love: add

hacker!haechan x afab!reader

wc: 11.6k

warnings: smut, little plot, they are PERVERTS, slight invasion of privacy, esex, masturbation, praising, degradation, overstimulation, edging, sex meetup, oral, unprotected sex (NO!), switch!haechan, switch!reader, mentions of panty sniffing, breeding, fleshlight, this is all very unrealistic and i also know nothing about hackers thank u (also this represents haechan in no way)

a/n: HAPPY BDAY TO MY SPARKLY PRINCESS!!! this is the best guy ever... hope everyone enjoys my little present :3

if you asked him how he became a member of an underground maybe-not-so-ethical kinda-not-really mafia group, he wouldn’t know what to say.

when he was younger, he took interest in the technology around him. because of this interest, he finds himself in front of his laptop, quickly hacking into some random company’s firewall for his boss. he doesn’t mess with anything else, grabbing some information of a person he doesn’t know to send off.

he puts all the information about the man in a well protected folder and sends it off. that’s really all he does. he’s someone who works behind the scenes, unlike his other group members who have a more up close hand in everything. he wouldn’t want to either way, finding the solidarity and animosity in his room to be just right.

it was easy for haechan to get used to this lifestyle. he never really had too many people to talk to before, so now he gets to make easy money in the comfort of his home without talking a lot. he can do everything in his apartment without having to go out much, either.

he yawns before closing all the windows on his screen. he’s done all the work he was assigned today, but he doesn’t know what he wants to do next. he takes his glasses off his face, hand moving to rub at his eyes before he slumps against his gaming chair. his hands fall to his lap, one of his thumbs massaging the soft skin of his inner thigh.

he smirks to himself, quickly acting on impulse as he moves to palm the front of his shorts. his cock twitches at the touch as he sighs contently at the feeling. his head rolls back against his seat, shutting his eyes as he gets hard. he bites his lip, his hand moves to slide under the waistband of his shorts and boxers-

he’s cut off by his phone buzzing loudly at the corner of the desk. he debates on not answering, but when he brings his phone close to his face, he curses. he sits up a bit before sliding his glasses back on, grumbling to himself as he answers the phone.

“what do you want, mark?”

“all i did was call you and you’re already mad,” mark huffs.

haechan rolls his eyes, “please hurry up and tell me why you called me.”

he can hear mark clear his throat, “johnny’s asking if you’ve sent that information he needs.”

haechan can feel his own mood turning sour. his tongue pokes at his cheek, “you can tell johnny that he can ask me that himself.”

it’s silent for a few moments on the other side of the call. haechan wants to scream at mark for taking so long when he could be doing other things. he feels his blood turn cold when he hears johnny’s voice, “hey, haechan? i need you to send those files before i make sure that your pay gets cut.”

“y-yeah, sorry! i just sent them a bit ago. please don’t reduce my pay, i might actually die.”

johnny laughs lightly, haechan sighing in relief at the sound, “i wouldn’t do that to you. you’re lucky that you’re funny.”

haechan cries out a thank you to him, causing the other two to laugh. he waits for them to calm down before beginning, “let me know if you need anything else. i have to go, i was a little busy before you called.”

mark’s voice sounds from the call, “doing?”

johnny interrupts, “probably something nasty.”

“no! why do you always say that?”

“what else should i expect from a guy who does shit with his computer and stays inside all day?”

haechan groans, “whatever. i’m hanging up.”

haechan is quick to turn his phone on silent before throwing it somewhere on his bed. he isn’t hard anymore, but now he’s too desperate to just ignore it. he opens a private screen on his computer before scrolling for a bit. he doesn’t want to watch porn, doesn’t want to read it, but there’s something he wants to try.

he’s heard through small forums of this website that allows you to chat with an online service that adjusts to your preferences automatically. he finds it after some time, hands slightly shaky as he presses on the link. it’s a nice looking website, stating some information before he can actually get into it. he wonders what mechanisms were used to make it. he can’t help it.

he skims through the information before clicking the start button. he’s met with the sight of an anime-looking girl, one that he’d find on hentai. the voice calls out to him, what would you like to do with me tonight?

he’s quick to type out, ive been so busy. just need someone to take care of me.

the character on the screen leans forward more, exposing more of her chest. haechan bites his lip at the sight, her voice calling out again, yeah? want me to take care of you? make you feel nice and good?

he responds with a yes, quickly shimmying out of his shorts as his cock strains in his boxers. it’s not often that he gets to talk like this with someone, even if this someone isn’t real. he’s too horny to care, not when he’s already been denied once. the character smiles at his response, groping at its chest. haechan watches closely, eyes hooded as he once again palms himself.

it must be so hard for you, right? the character says, getting bossed around all day when all you wanna do is get taken care of. i’ll do anything you want me to.

there’s a voice-to-chat option, but haechan isn’t really sure he wants to do that for his own privacy. he’ll manage to type with one hand while his other grips around his clothed length. make yourself feel good w me, want u 2 tell me when to cum.

the character agrees quickly, the screen pushing back to get its whole body in frame. it’s clad in only panties, smiling at him before speaking, are you gonna touch yourself for me? let me see how big your cock is?

he slides his boxers down just enough to get his length out. it slaps against his stomach, leaking at the tip. he didn’t realize how needy he was until now, easily wrapping his fist around his length. it’s easy for him to give in, the character’s words drifting to his ear, causing small whines to fill the air.

he tunes it all out eventually (not counting when he gets praised). he can’t stop thinking about how bad he wants to do this with someone in real life. he always says it’s because he’s too busy with his job, but he knows he can’t keep lying to himself. he pretends that sweet voice that’s calling out to him is someone real, sitting right on top of him as he gets whispered praises.

his hand wraps around his cock tighter at the thought, his hips bucking up into his fist. he licks his lips as his other hand trails up his hand, his fingers brushing over his nipple. quiet whimpers fill the air, and there’s nothing he wants more than to moan out someone’s name.

he could give everything to someone. he’d be so obsessed, practically at their beck and call. he just needs to put all this energy and desperation he has somewhere. he isn’t a loser, isn’t gross, but it’s hard to deny it all when he’s getting off to a character calling him sweet and coaxing him to an orgasm.

he bites down on his lip to stop the pathetic moan that tries to slip out. he’s not typing anymore, listening in to what the voice is telling him to do. speed up, show me how bad you need it, and all haechan can do is obey and fuck his fist faster.

sobs sound throughout his room as his fist tightens around his tip, his thumb teasing at it. he no longer cares about how loud he’s being, no longer cares about denying how pathetic he looks right now. all he wants to do is cum, wants someone to come over so he can stuff all of his cum inside of a warm pussy.

it doesn’t take much longer, cum spurting all over his fist as he pinches at his nipples, loud whimpers slipping out of him. his ears are ringing, the voice speaking to him inaudible as he rides out his high. his hips twitch when he tries to overstimulate himself, a breathy laugh slipping out of his mouth.

the character looks fucked out, cheeks red as if it came down from its own orgasm. there’s a small smirk on its face, thanking him for everything, telling him just how good he’s been. haechan lays back onto his chair, heavy breaths beginning to even out. it’s when he hears the voice speak up again:

thanks for being such a good boy, lee donghyuck.

haechan’s heart stops. what did it just say?

it was easy getting all of his information.

you don’t really tap into the chats happening on your website, but this one piqued your interest. the fake name put in sounded too familiar, something you're sure you’ve heard before. you can’t miss out on this opportunity of possibly getting to see one of the most renowned hackers.

when you dig a little deeper, you’re met with some information about him. you’d think for a hacker, he’d be a little more protective about his information. it’s all laid out in front of you, almost as if he were begging for someone- for you to find it.

you can’t help but fuck with him a little. you make the character that he’s talking to call him by his real name. that’s all you were gonna do, really, besides look over his chat (to which you find out he likes being called a good boy). you know what he’s capable of, and if this is really him, you don’t want anything to happen to you.

except, you don’t really take into account how good he is at what he does, and you’re quick to get a call from someone you don’t know. you ignore it, obviously, given the circumstance you’re in. you should block the number seeing how you’re being spammed with calls, but you can’t get yourself to. you want to see how far this can go, to see if it’s really him, and just to make fun of him a little.

after what seems like the twentieth call, you finally pick up. it sounded like he was hyperventilating for a moment, but you assume he saw that you actually answered with how quiet he got. you don’t want to talk first, none of this is really your fault. you can hear him suck in a breath before he speaks, “who are you and what did you just do?”

“well, if you got my number, i’m assuming you already know who i am.”

he’s mumbling to himself in words you can’t hear. you should be scared, but knowing he just got off on your website makes this whole thing funnier. he can’t exactly report you, either. he would have to prove how he got your number when he doesn’t even know you.

“what made you even look into my conversation?” he pauses for a bit, probably recounting the whole chat, “i wasn’t even doing anything wrong?”

“your username seemed pretty familiar to me. sounded like something i’ve definitely heard before.” you pause, letting your words sit in the air. you can hear his breath pick up, trying to pull himself together at the possible thought of being caught. you start again, “are you… 6sunfull?”

he doesn’t speak. you don’t need him to say that he is, the silence tells you everything you need to know. you speak again, “you know, for being such a good hacker, you kinda suck at hiding your information.”

“how did you even find it? if it’s how i’m thinking, then that’s like, a total invasion of my privacy!”

you laugh, “that’s crazy coming from you. isn’t your whole job all about invading other people’s privacy?”

“it’s different!” he lets out an exasperated noise, “you run a porn website, think about your customers privacy!”

you splutter out a laugh, “look, i’m not gonna report you or anything. i just think it’s funny that someone like you was begging to be taken care of.”

“how do you even know that i’m that hacker? what if i’m just a random person getting my info taken away from me?”

“one, you got my number out of nowhere. two, you knew how i got your information. you’re used to this. plus, your birthday was basically in your username.”

an annoyed sound comes from his side of the call, “all i used was a six! whatever. i don’t want to talk about this anymore. do whatever with that information.” he quickly hangs up afterwards. you can’t blame him, you would probably try to run away from this, too. he didn’t ask you to block his number either, which tells you should let him take his time.

after all, he sounded too cute to let go.

a few days pass and you haven’t heard from him.

you’ve been trying to pretend like you don’t want to text him or you don’t want him to call you, but it’s been hard. he hasn’t been back on your website, hasn’t shown any sign of thinking about you. you’re not sure why you’re so invested, but knowing that you might be one of the only people who knows who he is helps.

but today, you get a text from the same unknown number from the other night.

unknown: you’re not going to report me to the police or anything… right

you: why would i do that

knowing that he’s on his phone, you’re quick to press the call button. it rings a few times before he decides to answer, a smile beginning to form on your face. you want to start talking, but he decides he wants to speak first, “i will send you whatever amount of money you want if you don’t snitch.”

“who says snitch anymore? and it’s too embarrassing for me to go to a police station and tell them i found a hacker who was on my pornsite.”

by the tone of his voice, you can tell he’s embarrassed, “thanks, i guess…”

“you do owe me, though. for not ratting you out.”

“what do you want me to do?”

you know exactly what you want, “just for you to talk to me. i’m giving you the chance to talk to someone, donghyuck.”

you can hear him scoff on the other side, “who says i don’t talk to anyone? and don’t call me that, it’s weird. just call me haechan.”

ignoring him, you continue, “just trying to be nice. maybe next time you won’t have to use my website and instead you can just text me.”

“what?”

“only a suggestion. you don’t have to, but i’m just putting it out there. if you’re that desperate to use a pornbot, you can just use me instead.”

the words you said the other day were only meant to tease haechan.

after you finished speaking, you could hear him choke on his own breath, trying to calm himself down. you laughed it off, but you didn’t realize how much it impacted him. you played it off as a joke, trying to move on before he could think about it any further. he said he had other things to do, trying to hang up before you could continue. you hope you didn’t take anything too far.

you realize why he wanted to hang up so quickly when you’re met with a call late in the evening. lazily answering the call, you greet haechan. there’s silence on the other side of the call. you wait for him to speak, but you’re met with an airy groan as a response. your heart stops beating for a bit, and you quietly ask, “what’s wrong?”

when he speaks, it’s pitchy and breathy all at the same time, “t-thought you said… thought you said you could help me…”

did you really mean it? when you said you wanted to see how far this could go, you didn’t mean it like this. you start to mull over your options, but at your silence, you can hear the slick noise of haechan fucking his fist. the thought makes your body heat up, any thoughts you had were thrown out the window. how desperate is he to do it so openly in front of you?

it’s like he already knows that you would agree. he lets out a hushed whimper that almost sounds like your name, and you can’t help how your thighs squeeze together. you bite your lip, imagining how exactly he might look right now. you wonder why he decided to call you up, someone who’s practically a stranger, instead of someone else.

you give in out of pure curiosity, only wanting to know more about what made haechan come to you. out of the few conversations you had, he wants you to help get him off, he wants to hear your voice telling him to cum. it’s why you ask, “are you going to tell me what you’re doing right now?”

“i’m… i was thinking about what you said to me. thought about what you would say to me, how you might sound… wanted to hear your pretty voice.”

you move to your bed, laying against the headboard as you get comfortable. you slide down your shorts, squeezing your thighs once more. you can feel how uncomfortably wet you are, feeling how you clench around nothing at the sound of haechan whining.

you try to stop your voice from being so shaky before you speak, “aren’t you embarrassed? moaning like this in front of a stranger?”

you can hear the sound of him fucking his fist faster, “d-don’t care. you’ve already seen how i’m like, spying on me and all… you probably like this, too.”

you scoff into the mic, but he’s right. he’s being so shameless, but you can’t help but feed into it. you do want to make him hold out though. you want to see him beg, just like he was on the chat. just this once, you’ll give into him. you breathe out, “you just need my help, hm? just need me to take care of you and make you cum?”

he’s moaning, obviously too horny to care about how loud he’s being. he laughs a little at how your teasing him for his messages, “wanna see you cum, too. please cum with me.”

you hum, “don’t know if you deserve it, you were getting off without me.”

“please? wanna hear you and how wet your pussy is.”

you can’t help but whimper at his words, causing haechan to moan louder than you. your hand slides down over your panties, teasing yourself while haechan continues to get off on the call.

he picks up on how quiet you’re being, choosing to take over, “you’re touching yourself, too, right? stopped teasing me so much so you can touch your pretty pussy?”

you hate how much his words get to you, trying to hide your noises by biting down on your lip. he’s not even trying to be mean, he’s just rambling, saying all the thoughts he has out loud for you to hear.

“would you be mad if i said i looked up what you look like? just wanted- wanted to see how you looked like. it’s not fair that you already know how i look.”

you moan out, your fingers circling your clothed clit at his words. you don’t care about how obvious you’re being anymore, not caring how haechan could probably hear how desperate you are. if anything, the groan he lets out tells you everything you need to know.

his voice is whiny, “wanna see you, w-wanna see you cum. are you gonna cum, too? wanna see it… can i please facetime you, i just- i’m so close.”

“fuck… are you sure? aren’t you worried that-”

“no, i don’t care. promise, just need to see you. i’m gonna cum without you if you keep on-”

you hang up the call before he can finish his sentence, a smile forming on your face as a minute passes by. you quickly facetime him, greeted by the sight of the upper part of haechan’s face. his bangs brush over his eyes, which widen in shock when he realizes you called back. his head tilts back into his gaming chair, a moan slipping out at the sight of you smiling at him.

you laugh, “are you gonna let me see all of you?”

he blinks back at you, shyness seemingly taking over him, “i-i thought you didn’t wanna talk to me so i kinda… let myself cum.”

you let out an astounded laugh at his words, watching as he props his phone on his desk, showing you the mess he made. his shirt was lifted enough for all his cum to miss it, shorts tugged down as if he was rushing to touch himself. his cheeks are flushed, biting his lip as he shyly watches your reaction. you tilt your head, “do you think you can cum again?”

“only if i get to see you,” he pushes the hair out of his eyes so he can see you better. he can’t look away once you set your phone against your pillow, letting haechan drink in the sight of you. it’s almost embarrassing for you as he lets out a loud whine when he sees that you’re only wearing an oversized shirt and your panties. he pants, “you look so much better like this, needed more than just your voice.”

“yeah?” you slip a hand between your thighs, “nothing’s ever enough for you, right?”

you watch as he swipes his fingers through the cum on his stomach before wrapping his hand around his length, his hips twitching at the feeling. he’s trying to hold back his moans, trying to fight through the overstimulation as he starts moving his fist. his eyes watch you with intent, just waiting to see what you do next. “slow down if you wanna cum with me,” you sigh, “you’re gonna cum without me again.”

“yeah, sorry, just-” he hesitantly pulls his hand away from his cock, choosing to run it over his stomach. his hand pushes his shirt up, brushing his fingers over his nipples as he lets out a small whine. his eyes focus on you again, “you just look so good right now, can’t help myself.”

“really?” you ask, hand slipping under your panties to rub at your clit. you swallow down a moan, “all you wanna do is stuff me full of your cock, hm? take care of me, too?”

“yes, please. wanna do it so fucking bad. wanna fuck you full of my cum.” his eyes flutter shut, the thought being too much for him to handle. his eyes shoot open when he hears a choked whimper come out of you, realizing that you pulled your panties aside for him to see. even though it’s dark in your room, he’ll take anything he can get.

“isn’t that too much to ask from a person you barely know?”

“d-don’t act like you don’t like it. you’re just as bad as me, getting yourself off to a stranger.”

you clench at his words before giving in and teasing a finger into your cunt. all you can think about is him, the sounds of his moans and how hard his fucking his hand surrounds you. he can’t help it either, eyes glued on how your finger slides in and out of you. he debates on turning his volume all the way up when he swears he can hear how wet you are.

you slip a second finger inside, moaning at the feeling. hearing haechan whimper, your eyes focus on the screen, watching as his hand tightens around his base, stopping himself from cumming right away. you let out a shaky sigh, calming yourself down before speaking, “i’m almost gonna cum, too, just wait for me.”

“i just wanna-” his fist wraps around his tip, hips fucking into the tight space, “wanna do it for you. wanna finger you, wanna fuck you, wanna eat you out. i can do whatever you want.”

your palm rubs against your clit, your thighs beginning to shake. he sounds so desperate, just from seeing you like this. even though you’re a stranger, he can’t help but want you. everything about him screams that he’s a gross pervert, but that only draws you in more. he might just bring out the worst in you.

“you’ll let me play with you, too, right? let you fuck my mouth, let me touch you how ever i want? let everyone know that you’re mine?”

he nods quickly, moans of your name spilling out of his mouth as he tells you he’s about to cum. you feel the same, one of your hands sneaking up to pinch at your nipple. haechan’s eyes struggle to stay open, watching you get yourself off just because of him. he’s the one making you feel good, all through the sight of him and his words.

“fuck, can you show me your tits? wanna- wish i could cum all over them.”

you pull up your shirt to expose your chest, haechan cumming for the second time this night at the sight of you on display for him. his hand pinches at his nipple, matching your movements as he rides out his orgasm. you follow right after, cumming at the sight of him looking so fucked out.

haechan tries to catch his breath again, letting out a breathy laugh, “god… i should’ve taken a screenshot.”

your post-orgasm haze is ruined by his words, “why can’t you be normal and just ask for a nude later?”

“isn’t it more romantic knowing that i wanted to capture something so beautiful in the heat of the moment?”

you frown at him, watching as he pulls a tissue from his desk, wiping off the cum on his chest, “knowing you have tissues on your desk tells me that you know nothing about being romantic.”

a pout forms on his face, trying to make himself look more presentable as if he didn’t just cum right in front of you. you can’t deny that he doesn’t look good, and now that he brings his phone closer to his face, you can see just how good he looks. there’s a few moles adorning his face, tying all of his pretty features together.

he notices you staring for too long, smirking a bit, “you can’t be mean to a stranger like that! you’ll help me learn to be a little more romantic, right?”

as much as you want to say no, you’re forced to agree when you see the hopeful look in his eyes.

you’ve been talking to haechan a lot more.

he’s been telling you his interests other than coding and hacking. he lets you in on his day to day life, even when all he’s done was work. you think it’s cute how he calls you for things other than sex. you’ve gotten texts from him asking what he should eat for lunch, calls ranting about an episode from a show he’s watching. you like that he’s trying to get close to you.

you wonder if he’s ever had someone to talk to like this. even though he told you he talks to his coworkers, there’s only so much you can talk about with people you work with. especially if it’s for an underground-basically-illegal business. you try not to think about it too much, especially with how happy haechan gets when he has a chance to talk to you.

today he called you while you were in the middle of fixing a bug that was reported on your website. he didn’t text you early that morning, and you didn’t want to bother him assuming that he was busy. you weren’t expecting his call, but you welcome it.

“why are you calling me at the grocery store?”

he laughs as if it’s the most normal thing, “people call at the grocery store, it’s normal. plus, i was feeling a little lonely. who else would i have called?”

“fine. right now i’m trying to see what’s wrong with my code. someone reported today that there was something wrong with my website.”

“those poor people.”

“haechan, you were one of those ‘poor people.’”

he brushes you off, saying that he’s better than all of them now that he has you. he tells you that he’s getting a few things to make lunch for himself later. he was busy with work earlier, but he can’t tell you exactly what he was doing, not right now. it’s easy to forget that everything he does is supposed to be a secret, even from you.

“so, you’re gonna cook? you don’t seem like a good cook.”

“hey! i am a very good cook, you just have to trust me. i just needed to pick up a few things.”

you halfheartedly scan through the lines of code, not in any rush to fix anything. it wasn’t that important, not when the thought of haechan looking domestic seems to get stuck in your head. “yeah?” you hum, “wish i was there with you, wish i could try some.”

the laugh he lets out causes you to smile, not being able to fight off the effect he has on you. there’s a part of you that really does want to see him. how he might lean over the stove, his shoulders on display for you as you watch from behind. you lose your train of thought, hearing haechan grumble about them not having the right product.

“you know, if i was there, watching you cook, i wouldn’t be able to help myself.”

you can hear how his mumbling abruptly stops, catching onto the meaning of your words. if only you had facetimed him, you would’ve been able to see his face. he wouldn’t be able to hide behind his screen like he is now. you start again, “wish i could hug you from behind, maybe kiss your neck a bit if you’d let me.”

he whispers into his phone as if other people can hear you, “you’re gonna tell me this while i’m in the produce section? please calm down.”

you let out a light chuckle, “as if you don’t like it.”

“why are you trying to get me hard in a grocery store? you need to be normal.”

you shrug, forgetting that he can’t see you, “it’s your fault you take everything i say seriously.”

it’s quiet again, and you assume haechan is trying to calm himself down. you can’t help but continue, “i hope when you cook, all you can think about is my hands all over you, especially where you need me the most.”

he speaks up again, soft, just for you to hear, “say one more thing and i’ll have to jerk off in the store’s restroom.”

laughter slips out of you, unable to keep yourself serious at the thought, “in the store’s bathroom? you really are a gross pervert!”

“stop! you are, too! you like seeing me be like this!”

you can’t deny it, so you let out a dreamy sigh, “you can just show me later, instead.”

and who is he to say no to you?

you always knew that haechan had a dirty mouth.

in all of the calls you both shared together, he always managed to say something that would catch you off guard. days where he wants to fill you up with his cum, days where all he wants is for you to call him a needy slut, other days where he threatens to buy a fleshlight if he can’t fuck you soon. this is who haechan is as a person, and you find yourself following his ways.

today, though, he really can’t stop talking.

he must’ve been worked up, trying to start the call as normal as one can before he eventually breaks down. in his own words, all he wants to do is “be smothered by your pussy.” as much as you want to cringe at his words, you can’t help the way your body heats up at the thought of him only thinking about you.

“fuck, just wanna taste.”

his eyes are zeroed into how wet you are, how all he can hear is the squelch of your pussy through his headphones. all he wants for you to do is shove your fingers in his mouth, letting him get a taste of how sweet you are. “please, i could make you feel so good. i just know you taste so good, smell so good, too.”

you let out a weak moan of his name, your body needing nothing more than for him to take care of you. his eyes are dazed, watching how his hips fuck into his fist just from the sight of you. you think he might just be a little bit obsessed with you, memorizing all the points of your body just from his phone.

“i wouldn’t stop eating you out until you’re begging me. wanna feel you pull at my hair and push me away. just need it so bad, need you so bad.”

“y-yeah?” you breathe, “do i need to send you some panties in the mail? p-perverts like you like that, right?”

he lets out a fuck, gripping at his base. through the low light and the slight grain on his phone, you can see pearly cum leak out of his tip, watching him willingly ruin his own orgasm. his whole body is shivering, and even in the darkness you can see how his cheeks are pink. there’s shock written on your face, and he just lazily smirks at you, “only wanna cum good if you’re feeling good with me.”

“then show me how good i should be feeling.”

he’s quick to continue his ministrations, curses leaving his mouth as he fucks through the overstimulation, whimpers filling the air. you swear you can see a few tears leave his eyes, his back arching up for your touch, wishing that you could just reach through the screen.

“j-just wanna,” a moan cuts him off, “wanna show everyone you’re mine. wanna mark you, wanna fuck you full of my cum.”

“wanna show me off? let everyone know just how good you fuck me?”

his free hand begins pinching at his nipple, causing his hips to stutter a bit, “of course. i’d record us, watch every single time i miss you. i’d post it to your website, too. make sure everyone knows that you’re mine.”

“all they’re gonna see is how good i can fuck you, watch how i can make you all fucked out.”

“wan’ it, want it so bad.”

“you always say that you’re gonna be the one fucking me, but that’s my job, right? you’d let me use you like a little toy? taking everything i give to you?” your own movements speed up as you watch him fall apart at your words. you can’t imagine how he’d be in real life if he’s acting like this over a call.

“fuck yes. all i wanna be is yours, i’ll do whatever you ask me to.”

you can tell he’s close, hand speeding up over his cock as he writhes around in his seat. you can hear all of the sounds he’s making, wanting nothing more than to cum at the thought of you two together. however, you cut through his thoughts, “then will you stop touching yourself?”

he’s shocked when he hears you, hooded eyes looking back at yours. his hand stops moving, but he still has a tight grip on his length. a little breathlessly, he asks, “what? i- i can’t…”

you cock your head to the side, “you just said you’d do anything i ask you to do though?”

“does it have to be now? c-can’t it be next time?”

you shrug, “i’ll do whatever you want next time if you do this for me now.”

he immediately rips his hand away from his cock, placing both hands onto his thigh. you scoot back a bit on your bed, showing off the rest of your body to him. you watch his cock twitch just from the sight of you, his hands itching to make himself feel good.

your fingers circle your clit, head tilting back at the feeling. “sometimes, you just have to slow down a bit. take a real look at what’s in front of you, y’know?”

you know he’s not really paying attention when he’s slow to nod. you watch as his cock helplessly twitches on his abdomen, begging to be touched by him, to be touched by you. with how wet you are, you can slide in two fingers easily, moaning out his name. he looks so desperate, almost willing to beg for anything. “won’t you tell me how good i look?”

he runs his hands up and down his thighs, his blunt nails digging into his skin. you wanna laugh at how his cock jumps with the slight pain, haechan trying to hide the whimper he lets out. he heaves out, “l-look so good… i know you’d look even better filled up with my cum…”

you pout, “are you saying i don’t look that good right now?”

“no! i’m fighting the urge to not cum untouched just from watching you.”

you moan at the thought, your back arching up as your hips roll into your hand. your eyes focus on him, “you better hurry and touch yourself before i cum all by myself.”

he’s quick to obey, hand wrapping around his cock and setting a quick rhythm. he’s louder than you, whines and whimpers of your name being the only thing leaving his mouth. “think ‘m gonna cum… please, want you to cum with me!”

“y-yes! haechan, i’m cumming!”

your mind goes blank as you come undone, body tightening in on itself as you clench around your fingers. through blurry eyes, you can see haechan with his head thrown back, cum spurting all over his chest as he moans out your name. you think he looks the best like this, the only thing on his mind being you.

it’s quiet for a few minutes after you both come down from your highs. you’re laid down onto your bed while haechan is slumped in his gaming chair. you don’t bother to get up, enjoying the presence of haechan, even through the phone.

the silence is cut off by haechan, “i really need to get you back for edging me. do you know how mean that is?”

“i personally really liked it. i should’ve taken a screenshot of how desperate you looked. i would’ve made it my wallpaper.”

“if you say it like that, then… i wouldn’t mind. everyone would see how obsessed i am with you.”

you watch as haechan contemplates his next words, and he looks a little too serious for you to be comfortable. you want to ask if something is wrong, but he beats you to it, “did you really mean it when you said that you would send your panties to me?”

you glare at him, “in what world would i want to do that? you are so gross.”

he coos at you, “you like it though.”

“i’d only want you to see them in person. you can keep them and do whatever gross thing you want with them then.”

“are you serious about meeting in person?”

you think about it for a few moments. as much as you’d want to, there are a few things you’re worried about. even though you’ve revealed so much to him, you’re not sure how you feel about inviting him over to your place yet. you let out a small laugh, “you could just look up my address.”

“i wouldn’t do that. not to you.”

his words make you a little shy, despite the meaning behind them. for haechan, these words are tender, keeping a part of his life away from you. he wouldn’t hurt you like that. it brings you relief, and it only makes it harder for you to hide the feelings that begin to grow inside of you.

you both think about what options you have. there’s only so much desire you can hold back before the urge to really meet him takes over. you throw an idea out, “how about we both meet at a selected place?”

“like a hotel?”

your eyes shine at his suggestion, “exactly! i forget how smart you are.”

his tongue pokes the inside of his cheeks, “only for you, baby.”

you threaten to end the call because of the pet name.

(he begs for you to stay on call with him.)

(you say yes.)

you spend the next few weeks planning out a trip where you can both meet.

the both of you figure out a place that’s convenient for the both of you, some kind of middle point where you can choose a hotel. haechan says he can pay for it all, willing to splurge a little more if it’s for you. it’s easy for you to agree, not willing to argue with a man who probably has way more money than he lets on.

there’s a lot of things that you’re nervous about when you start packing for the trip. you hope haechan is as nice as he lets on in person. you could end up not liking him by the end of this trip. what if he doesn’t like you? what if you do something weird and he doesn’t like you anymore?

it dawns upon you that he’s haechan.

all of the days leading up to this, where you both talk for as long as you can, it’s obvious how much he likes you. he spends a lot of his free time with you, even if he’s doing something else. it’s safe for you to say that you feel the same way. you can only hope that this trip shows the feelings that have been building up.

it’s really nothing that you should be worried about. as the days lead up, you both talk about how excited you are. haechan says as soon as he gets you alone, he’ll be pressing you against the wall, kissing you until you beg him to do something. you say that that will most likely not be happening, but you like his confidence anyways.

the actual traveling day isn’t so bad. you don’t have to wake up too early, and you already prepared everything you need from the night before. you recount everything you need to do before heading out, letting haechan know that you’re already on the way. he’s quick to respond, telling you that he beat you by already leaving his house before you. you thumbs down his text.

after a few hours of traveling, you make it to the hotel. a grimace forms on your face when you see the fancy-looking hotel, wondering just how much haechan paid for the both of you. you arrive a bit earlier than scheduled, but it’s not too crowded in the lobby, so you sit down before texting haechan.

you: i just got here

you: are you close or

haechan: im nearby so u can just wait for me

haechan: literally gonna shit my pants when i see u

you quietly laugh at his text before reacting to it with a thumbs down. you scroll through your phone for a few minutes as you try to calm your heart down. you’re not really paying attention to the screen, moreso trying to convince other people that you’re not currently trying not to die from nervousness.

it’s ten times worse when he texts you that he made it to the hotel. you shut off your phone, grabbing your bags before standing up. your eyes are focused on the entrance, biting your lip with every moment that passes.

you let out a breath when he walks in, relaxing at the sight of haechan walking in. he looks equally as nervous as you did, eyes nervously flicking across the lobby. it’s when he hears you calling his name that he looks at you, a small smile painting his face.

any worries that you had from before fade away as you walk towards him, a grin on your face as you drop your bags to hug him. he jumps a little in your hold, his arms hesitating slightly when he hugs you back. it’s weird to be able to feel him after so long, you never would’ve expected this to happen.

“haechan,” you breathe out, “i’m so glad you got here.”

he holds you a little tighter, “me too. i… i can’t believe you’re actually real…”

you laugh at his comment, noticing something different, “i didn’t know you wear glasses?”

“stop, it’s embarrassing…” he mutters shyly, “just wanted to make sure i can see you good.”

you pull away from him, asking if he’s ready to check in now that he’s here. you make it over to the front desk. the person at the desk is subtly trying to text on their phone, quickly turning it off and around once you clear your throat. they smile, “how can i help you?”

you let them know that you’re checking into a room for two people. once you get asked for the payment, haechan fishes around for his card somewhere in his bag. it takes a few moments, the receptionist staring at you two. it’s almost as if they can see how this is your first time meeting each other.

you focus on the polaroid on the back of their phone, a picture of them with a man with a bright smile and dark hair. you break away once they give you the room keys, “let me know if you need anything else.”

you thank them before grabbing everything, heading to the elevator. no one speaks when you two enter, no one else in the elevator but the both of you. you can see haechan’s fingers twitch at his sides before choosing to wrap an arm around you. a small laugh leaves you, easily leaning into his side, pressing a small kiss to the skin of his neck. you laugh harder when he shakes at the feeling.

he pulls away from you once you make it to your floor. your body is buzzing every second you’re apart from him, wondering why he isn’t all over you like he said he’d be. his hand is shaking when he messes with the key, opening the door and stumbling in.

the room is big, one large bed for the both of you. haechan laughs as you drop your bags to plop yourself into bed. you look back at him expectantly, watching as he cautiously puts his bags down and sits next to you in bed. you place your hand on his thigh to pull yourself up close to his face, your noses almost touching.

you can hear his breath hitch, how his eyes move to look at your lips, a faint blush forming on his cheeks. you cock your head to the side, “don’t you wanna kiss me? like you said you would?”

he licks his lips, “i… will you- will you let me?”

you do it for him. you press your lips against his, leaning into his body. his hand moves to hold your waist, gripping too tightly before he decides to hover his hand over your side. the kisses are slow at first, getting used to each other. his lips are soft against yours, his hand deciding to move up to cup your face instead.

haechan gains a bit more confidence as he moves his lips faster against yours. he’s quick to whine against your mouth, tongue licking against your lips. it’s almost embarrassing how fast you are to give into him, feeding into his desperation. you can feel how his hand feels clammy against your face, your hand moving to intertwine with his.

when you pull away to catch your breath, you laugh at how his glasses have fogged up. he whines in embarrassment, moving to sit himself against the headboard of the bed. he spreads his legs a bit, inviting you to sit on his thighs. you crawl over to him, an innocent smile on your face as he watches your every movement.

as you place yourself on his thighs, you look down on him, his pretty eyes looking up to yours. your hand places itself on his cheek, tracing along the moles that you always found yourself staring at. he leans into your touch, mumbling more to himself, “i never thought i’d get to have you like this…”

“we have all the time in the world now,” you lean down to give him a peck on his lips, “we can do anything we want.”

his hands are hesitant when they hold you by your waist, bringing your body closer to his. he sits you right on top of his bulge, feeling how he’s already hard from just some kissing. you giggle to yourself, letting your chest press against his as you kiss him again. one of his hands slip under your shirt, hand warming the skin at your side.

his hips begin to shift under yours, his hand trailing higher and higher before it stops at the cup of your bra. he pulls away from you a bit, his hooded eyes and puffy lips letting you know what he wants. you nod at him before kissing him, his hand moving to cup your chest. his other hand joins, both hands now groping at your covered chest.

he licks into your mouth, hands moving harder against you. you can feel his cock poking against your thigh, smiling into the kiss. your hand slips under the waistband of his sweats and boxers, touching his leaking tip. his whole body has a reaction, head tilting back as he lets out a moan. he tries to swat away your hand, and you try to argue, “i wanna make you feel good, too.”

“b-but i’ll-” a whimper leaves him this time, “i’ll cum if you keep touching me like that-”

you try to hold back your laugh, ultimately failing when you see the embarrassed look on his face. he whines before grabbing both of your wrists, pushing you down flat on your back. he hovers over you, eyes filled with desperation as he openly stares at you. his hands tug at the hem of your shirt, asking for permission to take off your shirt.

you agree, watching him slide it off of you with your help. he’s met with the sight of your bra, hands shakily moving to take hold of your chest. he touches you how he likes, a dazed look on his face as he gets more greedy. “you don’t know how much i thought about this… just wanted to touch you here so much…”

your hands fumble to undo the clasps at the back, sliding your bra off so haechan can get a better look. he moans unabashedly, immediately moving to mouth at the valley of your chest. he’s leaving marks as he pleases, making it to your nipple and sucking harshly. his other hand pinches at the other nipple, causing you to let out choked whimpers.

your legs twitch at his hips, forcing him to stay in between your legs. you can feel how his hips grind down, mindlessly chasing his own pleasure. “you can probably get yourself off just like this, right? i can see you humping the bed.”

“fuck, i can’t help it. you’re so hot,” he mumbles against your skin, “i could make you feel good all day, that’s all i need.”

as if something goes off in his mind, he’s quick to begin trailing kisses down your body. your skin jumps at the feeling, his eyes peering up at yours. he unbuttons your shorts and pulls them down, not caring how rough he’s being. it’s quiet in the room when he sees you in just your underwear, his heavy breaths filling the air. his nose nuzzles against the seat of your panties, a chill running up your spine when you can feel him breathe in deeply.

he slowly pulls your panties down, his eyes zeroed in on your core. he holds the panties in his hands, looking back at you, “you said you’d let me keep these, right?”

you laugh at him, feigning disgust when he asks, “you’re so gross! but i did make a promise, right?”

there’s a giddy look on his face when he pushes them away for later. he focuses on what’s more important, your open legs inviting him to where he’s been fantasizing the most. he settles down between your thighs again, pressing quick kisses to your inner thighs. he feels them try to close in on him, one of his hands moving to keep one leg pried open.

he takes a breath before looking at your core. he swipes a finger down your slit before sticking in his mouth. a moan follows, “you taste so sweet. fuck, it’s better than i imagined…”

it takes no time for him to press a kiss to your clit, sucking lightly as you let out a low moan. it’s easy for him to bring you closer to his face, spreading your cunt apart with his thumbs as his tongue licks at your entrance. all you can hear is how loud he’s being, the slurps of him against your cunt and the moans he’s letting out get to your head.

his tongue focuses at your entrance, switching between sticking the tip of it in your entrance and licking up at the slick that comes out. his thumb circles your clit, pressing hard against it causing you to twitch in his hold. his hand gives up on trying to keep your leg open, choosing instead to move up and tug at your nipple.

your thighs begin to shake around his head, feeling his fluffy hair tickle your thighs. when his tongue moves to tease your entrance again, you clench around it. he moves slightly away, eyes gazing up at you in wonder, lips and chin glossy with how wet you are. he licks his lips, “are you-”

you cut him off, “fingers- i need your fingers, haechan.”

he’s quick to comply, moving back to his original spot. his mouth replaces his thumb, now choosing to suck on your clit. there’s a finger at your entrance, slowly pushing in. he grunts against you when he feels you clench again, tongue flicking at your clit. your hands shoot to his hair, threading through the strand as your hips rut against his face.

it’s when you feel his glasses bump against your skin that he lets out an irritated noise. you open your eyes fast enough to see him pull away from you, quickly ripping his glasses off his face and moving right back to your pussy. you wail when he doesn’t add another finger, “n-need more, haechan, please.”

he nods against you, not pulling away as he adds another finger. all the air in your chest leaves as he curls them inside you, hitting spots that you could never reach on your own. he chuckles against you, “who knew that you can be this messy just from me eating you out? made you wait so long, didn’t mean to, baby.”

your hands tighten around some strands of his hair, causing him to whimper against you. the bed shakes a little when his hips grind against the bed. he chuckles lightly, “n-need you to cum already or else i’m gonna cum just by grinding against the bed.”

“keep going and i’ll cum soon. right there, haechan, please.”

your hands press his face closer to you, no longer obstructed by his glasses. his tongue teases your clit, giving you just enough stimulation to have you whining. he can tell you’re close just by how you’re clenching around his fingers. when he looks up at you, his heart beats a little faster with how good you look, and it’s all because of him. he moans out, “god, you’re so perfect, everything about you is so-”

he’s cut off by your moan, your orgasm crashing into you, clenching hard down onto his fingers. he helps you ride through it, fucking his fingers into you until you start pushing his head away from you. he laughs before you take his wet fingers into your mouth, cleaning them up as you stare right at him.

he’s quiet now, no words coming out of him as you move to peel off his sweats. you eye how hard he is in his boxers, hand moving to palm his clothed cock. he whines, just like before, “please don’t. i will seriously cum right now if you keep on touching me.”

you blink at him, “what’s so wrong with that?”

“wanna do it inside your pretty pussy.”

you lean up to press your lips against his again. it’s desperate this time, tongues moving against each other as haechan holds you close to him. it only takes a bit of grinding against his cock before he breaks, standing up to clumsily pull his boxers and shirt off. in the meantime, you situate yourself against the pillows, haechan practically pouncing on top of you.

he teases his tip along your slit, tapping it lightly against your sensitive nub. you hiss, your hands reaching for his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. he lets out a hushed whimper at the pain, cheeks red when you let out a laugh. you sigh out to him, “i needed this more than you can imagine. somehow i couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

he presses a kiss to your collarbone, and you can feel how he smiles against you, “what do you mean ‘somehow?’ i like to think that you’re just as obsessed with me as i am with you.”

he teases your entrance with his tip, causing you both to moan. you breathe out, “i can’t believe i let some loser hacker get me like this. you should be glad.”

“i’m the best one in this world, y’know? now tell this loser hacker how much you want him.”

you whine out his name, “please don’t tease… i know you want this as bad as i do, i can feel your cock twitching against me. just wanna feel you deep in me. i know you want it, too.”

he bites his lip to hold back a moan, his body betraying him when his hips push against yours. “a-alright, i know, baby. i’ll make sure to make the both of us feel good, okay? you ready?”

you nod, reaching up to give him one last kiss. you watch as he lines himself up at your entrance, his eyes losing focus. he pushes in slowly, your head pushing into the pillows as you moan out his name. he’s thick, your walls trying to adjust to his size as his head falls to your shoulder, his warm breath hitting your skin.

once he bottoms out, he looks down to see where he’s buried deep inside you. he lets out a whimper, his arms weak as he tries to hold himself up. he lets out a shaky breath, “i don’t- i don’t think i’ll last long…”

“i-it’s okay, just go slow. i can wait-”

he pushes his cock deeper inside you, “no i can- i can move just-”

he feels you clench around his cock for the first time, your walls sucking him in deeper. it’s all too much for him, your warm cunt and your needy little face is just too much. he can’t help it when his cock throbs inside of you, cum shooting deep inside your cunt without any warning. he falls on top of you, biting down on your shoulder to try to hide out the loud whimpers he’s letting out.

you’re not too surprised with how long he’s been holding himself out. he was even teasing himself, grinding against the bed when he was eating you out. you soothe him, hands running up and down his back as he lets out soft cries. you’re fine with it ending here, there’s still much more time you have together.

except, haechan pushes himself back up, cheeks red and eyes filled with tears as he fucks his cock into you again. he lets out a hiss, eyes fluttering shut at the overstimulation biting at him. you can feel how messy it all is, some of his cum slipping out of you and helping him fuck you.

he’s slow at first, trying to will away the pain. you’re louder than him right now, his cock hitting every spot inside you. you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. you cry out to him, “thank you, haechan. fuck, i feel so full!”

whining at your words, he quickens his pace, the pain bleeding into pleasure. “never thought i’d be able to feel you like this, so i-” a moan leaves him when your nails dig into his back, “i couldn’t help myself, had to cum- need to cum inside you.”

“felt so good, i didn’t care. wanna feel you cum again, wanna cum with you this time!”

“i’ll make sure you do, baby.”

he’s so sensitive right now, tears nearly prickling his eyes as he fucks you. he can’t seem to care though, not when your warm walls are clenching around him. not when you call out his name like he’s the only thing you need. how could he care when you’re the only thing he wants in his life?

“you know, i couldn’t stop thinking about this on the ride here. h-had to stop myself from getting hard in a taxi because of you.”

“y-yeah? needed you just as much, touched myself last night because i wanted you so bad.”

he whines at the thought of you stuffing your fingers in your cunt, moaning out his name just because of him. he can feel you shaking under him, wanting nothing more than to cum. “i’m here for you now, gonna give you everything you need. gonna stuff you full of my cum again.”

your hands bring his head down to kiss you, your hands softly supping his cheeks as you do. your fingers wipe away at the nearly dried tears, bringing him as close to you as possible. when you pull away for air, he moans out, “came so many times to the thought of having you like this. fuck, all i’m gonna be able to think about is you falling apart on my cock.”

you nod, because he’s all you can think about right now. you can’t think anymore, he’s taken up all of your senses. all you can do is moan out his name, letting him fuck you in the way that he’s always wanted. “haechan, ‘m so close, please-” you cry, “need you to make me cum, wanna cum on your cock.”

he can barely put a sentence together, “yeah, fuck, gonna cum on my cock? gonna show me how bad you need me? have your pussy milk me of all my cum?”

his hand reaches down to rub at your clit, urging you to cum. “i can’t hold back anymore, baby,” you can feel him throb inside you, “need you to cum, let me cum with you.”

that’s all it takes for you to let out a whimper of his name, cries falling from your mouth as he fucks you to an orgasm. with how you’re squeezing his cock, it doesn’t take long for him to cum again, a high pitched whimper joining your sounds. he cums inside, fucking his sensitive cock inside you to ride out your orgasm.

he collapses on top of you, hot and sweaty as his breaths mix in with yours. you’ve never heard him this quiet, basking in your warmth as he enjoys the haze he’s in. you don’t bother moving, even as he starts to soften inside you. he nuzzles himself against your chest, pressing small kisses on your skin. his voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, “thank you for everything. i mean it.”

you let out a faint laugh, “that’s sweet. i didn’t realize you could be this nice. thank you for giving me a chance.”

“i told you i was romantic. you were just too obsessed with me to notice.”

“you’re weird,” you scoff.

“you like it.”

“i do.”

when you both have time, you take turns on choosing places you both want to go to. haechan always offers to pay for any traveling fees, laughing when you suggest he’s practically your sugar daddy. after many months of meeting like this, it’s easy for you to confess to him. it’s even easier for him to wrap you in his arms, a kiss pressed to your cheek as he tells you feels the same way.

now, you’re both due for another trip. there was more of a wait between now and your last trip, finding yourself just as busy as haechan. when you finally have time to yourself, you realize that it’s your turn to choose a place to visit. you find yourself looking at a quieter city to indulge both you and haechan’s homebody trait.

of course, haechan makes it possible for you both to head over. when you had originally brought up the city, haechan showed some hesitance. when you question him, he responds with, “well… i have a friend over there.”

you ask if you can meet his friend, and after some thinking, haechan decides it’s okay for you two to meet.

when you both walk around the city, exploring the shops they have to offer, you can tell haechan’s mood shifts. his eyes begin to scan around the small crowds of people, making sure no one is looking too hard at the both of you.

when you make a turn to another street, you’re met with a bigger shop, right in the middle of a junction. haechan stops you from going any further, letting you know that this is where his friend works. you eye the store, realizing that it’s a jewelry store. he takes your hand in his before stepping in, opening the door for the both of you.

he calls out to someone named mark, waiting near the entrance as you look around. there’s gold jewelry on display and other antiques all throughout the store. before you can ask haechan what this place really is, a man who looks just as young as haechan steps out, his confused face morphing into one of giddiness.

“it’s been forever, man! and is this- is this who you’ve been talking to me about?”

“shut up!” haechan whines, looking back towards you, “this is mark, someone who i work with.”

while mark is complaining about how they’re more than just coworkers, everything is hitting you all at once. you completely forgot that haechan works with other people, and you fully believed everyone else to be hackers. you wonder what a man in a jewelry store contributes to a group overall. you don’t bother asking now, not trying to ruin the reunion of two friends.

it’s nice watching haechan talk to someone he’s comfortable with. you see a lot of him that you don’t normally see. you let them talk, joining in when mark tells you something to embarrass haechan. it never works out in mark’s favor, though, haechan immediately spilling mark’s secrets to you.

time passes by quickly in the store, mark telling you stories that have happened to him while taking care of the place. eventually, mark gets a call from the store’s phone, pulling him away from both you and haechan.

when the call ends, he sighs and looks at the both of you, “i have to go pick something up from this guy. will you guys be okay if i leave you here for a bit?”

you both nod, watching mark pick up a few things before getting ready to leave. he turns back suddenly before walking out, eyes narrowing at your boyfriend, “no funny business, haechan. i mean it.”

haechan raises his hands in defense, a sickly sweet smile on his face as he tells mark that there’s nothing he should be worried about. mark shakes his head and tells you both goodbye when he walks out. you both watch him walk away from the store, out of his sight.

it’s quiet for a few moments before haechan speaks, “do you think we can fuck in here?”

“haechan! where would we even do that? there’s cameras in here and the whole front is made of glass!”

you watch his eyes glance over the store before watching them land on the door labeled staff only. when you turn to look at him, he’s smiling at you innocently, as if you don’t already know what he’s thinking. you groan, “if you’re alright with a quickie, then okay.”

he takes no time to drag you inside the small staff room, locking the door behind him as he smirks at you, “let’s hurry before mark comes back.”

with haechan, you come to realize that you’re willing to do anything he wants.

a/n: JESUS i wrote this way too fast and now i have to stay away from google docs for at least a week... but anything for haechan... happy bday to that guy... ALSO THANK U TO @hrts4doie FOR BETA READING HEHE...

tags: @hxxchxn @sourkimchi @hcheach @axo-l0tl @hazyhae @taexoxosgf @hyuckdolle

#nct fic #nct smut #nct x reader #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #haechan fic #haechan smut #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines

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talkdutchtome · 8 months ago

Text

"Let me take care of you" - Max Verstappen

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )

genre . . . smut )

summary . . . after a disastrous race, you take care of max the best way you know how )

warning . . . smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple play, use of petnames, sub!max, very soft dom!reader, traumatized maxie, not proofread )

word count . . . 2800 words )

a/n . . . this actually ended up a lot more emotional than i intended it to be but i hope everyone likes it anyway. i don't know if my smut writing is getting better or worse tbh. any and all feedback is always appricated <3 )

Max was a perfectionist; anyone could see that. He also had a desire to win like nobody else. He never let up. It didn’t matter to him if it was a title deciding race or a completely meaningless one, he needed to win. It had been instilled in him for as long as he could remember; second place is first loser after all. So naturally, when his brakes failed, and his car very literally caught fire in the Australian Grand Prix causing him to have to retire three laps into the race; you knew he was not going to take it well.

You were watching along in the garage, and the only thing you could think about as his smoking car pulled up to the pits was how hard on himself he was going to be. The fact that it was through no fault of his own was irrelevant. He had just handed a win to Ferrari, and that made his blood boil.

In typical Max fashion, you barely saw him after he retired too. He gave you a quick hug as he reached the garage but after that it was straight back to business. He made his way to the pit wall and immediately began discussing with Christian and GP what exactly happened and how do they fix it for Japan. He sent you a text that he was going to stay late at the track with the mechanics so that you should just head back to the hotel.

Truthfully, Max was avoiding you. You had only been dating Max for a couple of months, and so far you had only seen him dominate on track. And whilst you were concerned that that he would be beating himself up for disappointing himself or the team, he was busy focusing on how he had disappointed you. You had taken time out of your busy university schedule to travel to the other side of the world to see him race, and he had to retire three laps in. He was used to people living through him, taking his wins as theirs. He had never considered that all you cared about that he was safe and didn’t get hurt.

So, you went to the hotel and waited for him; or at least you tried to. Tiredness and jet lag eventually started to catch up to you, and you had just started to drift off to sleep when you heard the door open. Looking up greet Max, you could see immediately how heavy the weight he bore on his shoulders hung.

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” You asked him sleep in your voice still evident. Max just hung his head and walked into the bathroom. He half expected you to berate him. To question him on exactly what went wrong and what he’s going to do to fix it.

“Maxie?” You asked again, as he came in from the bathroom and made his way to his side of the bed, his eyes routed to the floor. This time he just grunted at you in response before getting into bed and turning away from you. He did not have the energy to be told everything he did wrong and why - he had already had that from his dad.

“Please talk to me Maxie, I’m worried.” You pleaded at him, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around him. You wanted that more than anything, but you sensed that he maybe didn’t feel the same.

“What do you want Y/N?” He finally spoke, his voice cracking.

“Are you okay? I know that was tough result to take but it’s only once race. We both know you’ll be back better than ever for the next one.”

To your words, Max just grunted again. And this time you couldn’t help but reach over to hold him. Wrapping one of your arms around his waist and the other coming up to brush through his hair. You waited cautiously for him to pull away. A moment passed and he began to move, your heart sank; he clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near you right now. But instead of moving away, he just turned around, bringing himself closer to you, resting his head on your chest.

“I just hate to let the team down” he spoke, his voice no more than a whisper, like he wasn’t 100% convinced if he should be saying anything.

“But baby you didn’t let them down, you did nothing wrong. There was an issue with the car that isn’t your fault.” You gazed down at his face, your hands smoothing through his hair.

“I could have done something. Maybe I pushed the brakes too much. Maybe I went too hard. All I know is that I let the team down. I let my dad down. I let you down. You cam-“ He started to ramble, but you had heard enough.

“Whoa Max baby slow down. I can’t speak for the team or your dad, but you certainly did not let me down. All that matters to me is that you didn’t get hurt. I was so worried; you were literally driving a car that was on fire. You could have been hurt.”

As the words left your mouth, he looked up at you. Almost as if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. When his eyes met yours and he realized you were being sincere, he hugged tighter into you.

“I love you Y/N” he spoke and before you could say anything, you felt him bring his mouth to your neck. Leaving hot open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone up to until he met your mouth. His lips crashed against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. His hands found your hair and his teeth nipped at your lips. He quickly found himself getting lost in you and you weren’t too far behind. But when his hands wandered towards the bottom of your pajama top, you had to pull away.

“Wait, Maxie. Are you sure you want to do this? You’ve had a rough day, are you sure you want to do this. We could just go to sleep if you’d prefer.” You didn’t want him to feel like this was something he needed to do.

But when his lips once again found your neck, it was clear you had your answer. “Please” he mumbled against your skin “I just want to forget” between each word he left a kiss on your neck, before beginning to nibble against that one spot on your neck that he knew always sent you completely insane. He left deep purple marks all down your neck and you couldn’t help but let a moan slip through your lips.

You were about to completely cave into his touch before you had an idea, and before you could overthink whether it was a good idea, you swung your legs over him until you had him pinned underneath you, your legs either side of his. A smirk plastered across your face

Max looked completely taken aback at your action, but the second you leant down to kiss him, your lips just slightly brushing against his; he was starstruck and could feel himself growing harder by the second, which only deepened your smirk.

“Let me take care of you baby” you whispered in his ear before beginning to grind your core against him. The whimper that left Max’s lips took you both by surprise but, taking that as confirmation that he wanted you to take control; you attached your lips to his neck, trailing kisses down his chest until you reached the waistband of his underwear. It was clear from the way that his hard dick strained against the cloth that Max was enjoying this new side of you, and you could be lying if you said it didn’t give you a bit of a confidence boost.

You started to tease him, placing warm kisses over his underwear, but when you hear him try and fail to beg you to touch him, it becomes clear that maybe today isn’t the day to tease him. So, you hook your fingers around his waistband and release him from the tight confines of the cloth. Immediately, your mouth found his cock, your lips wrapping around his tip. Max’s moans filled the air as he came apart like putty in your hands. The way that your tongue swirled around him made him go crazy. He reached out his hands to grab your hair in a makeshift pony, but you dodged him. Max honestly thought he was going to cry when you took your mouth off him.

“No baby, I told you I was going to take care of you, you just sit back and let me do everything” you told him before quickly placing a kiss on his lips before reattaching your mouth to Max’s throbbing dick and bringing your hand to the part of it that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Max felt lightheaded; it’s not like you hadn’t given him a blowjob before, but never like this. He couldn’t ever remember being this turned on before. He had never even considered letting you take control, letting you take care of him so intently before; but now that he was experiencing it – he kicked himself for waiting so long.

The sounds coming from your boyfriend were music to your ears and only encouraged you to make him feel better and better. You could feel yourself getting wetter, completely desperate to feel him inside of you; but today was about Max, you’d happily wait longer for your own pleasure to take care of him. You began taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, earning more moans from Max. You had never heard him be so vocal before. Things got even better for him when you hallowed your cheeks and brought your hand up to his balls, massaging them in your hands as you worked his dick in your mouth. When his tip hit the very back of your throat and you gagged around him, he was so loud you were just slightly concerned that whoever was in the room next door would be up for a rude awakening.

“Oh, fuck baby, oh my god. I’m so close” Max just about managed to get out between moans, promoting you to once again let go of his dick. For a second Max looked at you with puppy dog eyes, silently begging you to take him back in your mouth. But as soon as you stood up and very slowly pulled your pajama shorts down, he realized that there were better things to come.

“Do you want me to ride you, Maxie?” you asked him breathlessly earning another groan from the man lying on the bed.

“Fuck, yes. Please please ride me I need to be inside of you more than anything” Max’s voice was weak; it was becoming all too much for him. And when you finally rid yourself of your pajama top, Max started to see stars. Your tits were his weakness, and you knew that all too well. All he wanted was to take them in his mouth, to suck and bite on your nipples. So, when you straddled him once again, that's exactly what he did. You thought about stopping him again, reminding him that tonight was about him and his pleasure; but when you caught sight of his eyes – usually so bright and sparkling. Now they were so dark, so filled with lust and desperation, you didn’t have the heart to deprive him of one of his favorite things to do.

You leant down to kiss him again, and the taste of his own precum on your tongue made him groan feverishly against your lips. Unable to wait anymore, you finally lowered yourself onto his dick. Now it was your turn to let out a string of moans and profanity. The way that he stretched you out was a feeling that you could never grow old of. After a beat to get used to having him inside of you, you began to bounce on top of him, pumping his dick in and out of your tight desperate pussy.

“Oh my god Maxie you feel so good, your huge dick sends me so crazy” You moan out, completely cock drunk. “You fuck me so good, god nobody makes me feel like you can” Your praise made Max moan louder than ever and then he simply couldn’t help himself anymore; he brought his hands up to your hips and began thrusting hard into you. You wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him to let you take care of him – but when he rammed his cock into g-spot you physically couldn’t ask him to stop doing something that felt so good.

“I love you so much Y/N baby” Max croaked out, bringing his mouth back to your tits and his hand down to your clit. Him touching you for the first time tonight meant it was now time for you to see stars. His expert hands rubbing against your clit brought you closer and closer to release and you could tell from the way that Max’s thrusts became deeper and harder that he wasn’t far behind you.

Wanting to finish what you had started; you placed your hands on his chest – signaling him to stop for a second. Max did so very reluctantly, but when you started to bounce on his dick again his eyes rolled back into his head. After each bounce you grinded yourself down on him, desperate to get him as deep as you possibly could. Your climax was getting closer and closer and soon you felt like you were ready to burst.

“I’m going to cum on your dick okay baby? You just make me feel so good I can’t help myself.” you told the man beneath you breathlessly, prompting Max to resume rubbing circles into your clit.

“Please do. Please cum all over my cock I need that so much” Max croaked out and with that you fell over the edge. A wave of pleasure washed over you and you screamed out for Max. It felt so good you thought you were going to pass out, completely taken over by the pleasure that Max’s hard dick had given you. For a few moments, you simply had to still yourself to let yourself recover.

Once you had ridden out the last of your orgasm, you were ready to go again; ready to make Max feel as good as you possibly could. You began grinding down onto him, squeezing yourself against him. After feeling you cumming all over him, Max knew he wouldn’t need long before he was right behind you.

“Fuck Y/N I’m really close, get off and I’ll finish in your mouth” Max just about got out between moans. When you didn’t get off and instead began bouncing faster and harder, Max really thought he might just die.

“Cum inside of me Maxie please, I need your cum fucked so deep inside me”

“Fuck really?”

“Yeah, i need it so bad.”

“Oh my god Y/N, you’ll be the fucking death of me”

The second those words left his mouth, he fell apart. A string of profanity left his lips, and you could feel his dick pulse inside of you as he painted the insides of you white with his cum. Max couldn’t believe how good it felt, sex with you was always great but that was on another level, he couldn’t remember ever feeling that good before.

“I love you so much Y/N”

He gently slipped himself out of you and you collapsed next to him on the bed. Exhausted wasn’t the word for how tired you felt after that. And apparently that was true for Max as well as in the time that it took you to waddle to the toilet to clean yourself up, he had managed to fall asleep. You couldn’t blame him of course; even before that it had been a very long tiering day for him. So, as quietly as you could, you got ready for bed and slipped yourself into bed next to him.

Looking at the very peaceful sleeping man next to you, you couldn’t help but snuggle down close to him. Placing a kiss on his temple before assuming the big spoon position that you know he loves so much from you. Your movement causing him to ever so slightly stir awake.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me” he spoke so softly you almost missed it before falling right back into a very peaceful sleep. You couldn’t help but feel so lucky to have a man like him cuddled close to you.

“Sleep well Maxie, I love you more than anything.”

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x y/n #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x oc #f1 smut #formula one smut #formula 1 smut

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porcelainpot · 3 months ago

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It takes a long time before you leave your den again, the small cave proving to be a cage, as Soap so graciously called it, for not only them but you too, even if sometimes it can be considered your little heaven too.

It's not that you don't want to leave, it has been at least three hours since Soap had gotten himself too close for comfort, riling you up enough that you almost forgot to keep distance for the both of you.

No, it's not that.

It's that you're fucking terrified and you don't want to admit it.

You have watched and analyzed them all enough to understand that he has a weird sense of flirting and is more feral than what he looks, if his stunt a few hours ago wasn't proof of that, then the way he would usually do the same with other mer, prey mer, or fishes is proof of how he gets off on doing it.

You look at yourself, your fins, your tail, beautiful oranges and whites decorating the venomous spines that serve as hunting and protective tools. Or that should be their purpose, if it wasn't for the lack of poison they had.

They do work for hunting and to protect yourself, but the thing is that they're not lethal at all, if only, the supposed venom is more of anesthetic.

Instead of causing pain, it makes the prey, and predators, lose feeling on their limbs, starting from where the location of the sting and then it spreads, just like the venom should work. You know this, which is why you never correct them about how poisonous you are, because you aren't. You just work as a type of numbing tool.

Everyone would have a field, especially Soap, so it's not like you'll ever tell them and keep your distance away. In the end it's more for your protection than theirs.

Your belly rumbles and you scrunch up your nose, you're hungry, not having really thought of eating since hours ago because you were enjoying Ghost's company and also the fact you were not hungry at all.

But now here you are, and thanks to someone called fucking Soap, you can't find it in yourself to go out and hunt, because what if he's out there? What if he tries to do the same again?

Surely not, Ghost already made him go back to their reef to go bother Gaz or Price, maybe even take a nap but that doesn't deter you.

Your fins and spikes have been flared all these hours and it's starting to hurt a bit with how tense your muscles are. It makes you want to tear out something, to sink your teeth on his shoulder, to grab his face and stab your spikes against his skin until they pierce it to watch him go limp and sink on the sand, unable to move.

You shake your head, clawing at the sand to get rid of those thoughts. He would probably like it, might even fantasize about it if you think enough, he looks like he would. More so at the glee to show he was right, that you're not dangerous as he thought and that's exactly why.

A shiver goes down your spine at his words, at the fact he thought he could break your spines, it has panic raising up your throat before you shake your head and calm down. No, no he wouldn't.

At least you try to think that. (Oh, but he would, how else would you end up with them? That way you wouldn't be able to protect yourself, but they could keep you safe and to themselves.)

Your nerves are too fried to calm down, today you probably won't go out hunting until you've calmed down, the thought of finding Ghost at night causes an uncomfortable feeling in your chest.

He stopped Soap, that's fine, good even, at least one of the two has a sense of safety even if he doesn't regard you as a predator like him (although the cause of it barely counts as a threat). Not like you need his approval, you're not friends, far from it, just acquaintances at best. That only makes your decision of hunting at night more difficult.

You sigh, curling up onto yourself. You can skip a day or two of not hunting, it's fine. You can sleep most of it away.

You wake up again by the sound of something swimming around your small reef, you barely catch it, with sleep clouding your mind still after sleeping all day. You swim closer to the small gaps of your small den, just to take a peek.

It's Ghost, because of course he is. The mer likes to hunt at night, but it's weird that he's outside your small cave at this hour, by now he should be far away looking for food.

"Wha?"

"Come outside." He commands, it makes you frown, why would you do that? It's late and you're tired.

"No. I'm sleeping." You mumble, unconsciously leaning a bit closer to look at him better through the small space.

Your spikes are all relaxed, finally, muscles sore from your body being alert for so long. You're in no position to speak properly, sleep heavy and worsened by the lack of food, trying to make it up for the lack of energy.

Ghost hums, something low and quiet it almost makes you think it was your mind playing tricks on you if you weren't looking at him through half lidded eyes.

"Come on. I got you something, pretty fish." His voice is low and thick, honeyed, as sweet as someone with a gruff and heavy voice could do, to make you come out.

The pet name has you a bit hooked, and the sight of the actual fish on his hand after he presents it has you fully out of your home. You swim towards him, towards the food actually, and reach for it.

You're too tired to even eat it, but you still inspect it, you have to check it's worth and duplicate it tomorrow so you two are even, even in your half-asleep state your mind knows what to do for someone who even gifts you something. You don't like owning anything to anyone.

Ghost looks at you closely, as close as he dares to be given your current situation.

You're half asleep, any word or action he does could either make you react badly and stab him with those beautiful spines you got or have you still be pliant in his presence.

You're an interesting little thing, gorgeous in looks and deadly in touch, he can understand Soap's infatuation with you but he knows how to handle mers like you, he might look disinterested but he already knows how to handle you well.

Ghost takes his opportunity to swim closer, amused when he noticed you curl up around the fish, not to eat it but because you fell asleep holding the food he got you, curled up around it.

"Pretty thing, nothing more than brash words huh?" He murmurs as he very softly cups his hand under you, eyes sharp and focused on your fins and tail, looking for a telltale of flaring spines or the flick of your ear fins.

You're quite small and pliant, colorful even in the darkness of their reef. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. You're lucky it's me and not Soap, the twat would be pricked as soon as he got you at hands reach."

Of course, you barely make a sound at that, scrunching up your nose before relaxing again and he takes the opportunity to run his thumb on your back, brushing his fingers through your fins and skin, careful to not touch your spines.

Ghost wonders if you're even aware of what he's doing, of how powerless you are right now, but he doesn't entertain the thought much when you star to stir again.

He lets you go as soon as your tail swishes, letting you blink and rub your eyes, looking around before squinting at him, saying a quick 'thanks' before swimming to your small den.

That's dangerous, don't you know you should be attentive at all times? Not every mer is as nice as he is right now.

With one last peek, he swims away to continue with his night routine, what he needed to do is done and he won't do more, you aren't his responsibility if you're not Price's responsibility.

Yet, anyways.

For now, your naps and quiet time together are enough for him, even if he has to look out for Soap.

#haven't written in so long #cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty x reader #tf 141 x reader #monster x reader #monster fucker #simon ghost riley #merman #mermay #this could count as part two #or not #or something read on its own too #mini collab with someone else #y'all see

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evilminji · 1 year ago

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Okay, as I have mentioned, I'm Ace AF. And you know that plot line in kids cartoons where the alien or foreign Warrior Royalty just sort of *violently kicks down door in full armor* "We Will Marry."? I?? Always said:

"Sure!" (#OhThankFUCK!)

Like what do you mean "No"? The powerful, attractive, monarch that is very into you has travel a great distance JUST to marry you! Now you don't have to date! They seem nice! You can skip the whole "trying to find a life partner" awkwardness.

So, Sudden New Fiancee(tm) how we doing this? Blended customs? Two weddings? One in your peoples traditions, one in mine? Should we invite your family? Tell me more about yourself.

God, this solves just... SO MUCH for me? No having to make small talk. No "do they like me?" Or "am I reading the signs here right?" No failed dates! It's positively ideal! AND they announced why they were qualified, in a VERY impressive show of power and prestige, when they arrived! Good lineage AND accomplished!! Very nice.

Don't get why everyone's so upset.

Sure the "we leave at once" thing that usually follows would have to be discussed, but that's what you DO as spouses. Really guys, it's like you think I'm incapable of common sense here.

And you know who probably agrees with me? Damian Wayne.

Hell is other people, INDEED. You expect him to just... randomly go up to people and try Courting them? What do you MEAN it's "creepy" to compile portfolios on eligible individuals of worthy bloodlines? How ELSE is he supposed to know if they are worth attempting to talk too?!

There are BILLIONS of humans on this gods forsaken rock, Richard! Is he supposed to just GUESS? Gamble and hope for LUCK? This is a MARRIAGE not a "best friends club"!

Then? Danny showes up.

Gotham heard her baby talking. Heard her KING being harassed by clearly plotting Observants and power hungry ghosts MANY times his age. Connected some dots. Formed themselves a new OTP.

Danny says "Fuck It". Worst he can say is No. According to Gotham, he is neither Shy not the meek obedient sort. Is in fact, VERY stabby. So if he's not interested he'll no doubt be BRUTALLY clear about that.

So? Danny gets Fright Knight. Go get him a horse. Someone fetch Cujo some armor. He's been told the guy like weapons and animals.

TIME TO BE IMPRESSIVE.

He goes FULL Regalia. Armor of solid night sky. Cape of frost and stardust. Crown like crack in reality itself, through which the cosmos gleam and shift. He gets a horse from the far frozen. They're wooly and carnivorous. Gets THE most impressive sword he can find to wear.

It's gonna be a gift, since he doesn't need it.

He does the whole "rend the skies open" thing. Fan fair and knights. Every title he's ever been given, no matter how embarrassing he find them in reality. And announces his intentions. Declares that ONLY Damian Wayne, aka. Robin, is WORTHY to Marry Him. And (in the traditional Ghost proposal of "either accept or tell me to fuck off" /w violence) Demands Damian accept his offer of Marriage.

Right there.

IN THE WATCHTOWER.

In front of EVERYBODY. And yes, ESPECIALLY the Bats. Who are making glitching, vaguely threatening DEMONIC NOISES. Because? You... you THREATEN the BABY? Death. Ten thousand years DEATH.

People are :O ing and backing away from the visible heatwave of unadulterated FURY being put off by Batman. Danny is nano-second from every bone his ANCESTORS had being reduced to a fine paste.

Then? Damian consider him... considers the sword being thrust in his direction, still held aloft in a steady and armored hand... contemplates those titles for a second...

And goes: "Acceptable. Very well, but I have demands."

N..... Nani the FUCK? Says local Bat-Dad. No??? You are NOT GETTING MARRIED.

Try to stop him. He very obviously IS, according to Damian, the man brought him a kick ass sword and has a giant green dog. Is the king of an ENTIRE REALITY. Yes, he realizes he probably COULD do better... but frankly? This one's cute. But if it upset you so... extended engagement. There. Happy?

NO! Because the JLA Dark are LOSING THEIR SHIT. Damian is still UNDERAGE. We don't even know how OLD this being is! NO MARRIAGE.

Damian is unimpressed. A whole six months? That he's likely already LIVED thanks to various timeloops, temporal shenanigans, and reality warping bits of fuckery? You're reaching.

Just? Marriage Meet Cute.

@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #marriage meet cute au #danny phantom #damian wayne #bruce may break his no killing rule #dick DEFINITELY about to break the no killing rule #tim is making out with Kon in a closet and misses most of this #good for him honestly

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heechwe · 2 months ago

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miss americana | 𝖕𝖘𝖍

➸ second anthology piece in "basketball (inkchwe's version)" and story-inspired playlist also can be found there too! ୨୧ pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 9.8k ୨୧ genre: fluff, angst, smut ୨୧ tags: basketballplayer!heesung, cheerleader!reader, established relationship, exes to lovers au, high school au, heavy petting, marking, oral (f receiving) penetration (all characters are of age!) ୨୧ synopsis: Fed up with Sunghoon's attitude and petty games, you move on, hopefully to something better. Why did he have to realize how important you were to him once you were already gone? ➸ a/n: bless @mini-mews for being there every step of the way with this fic, it was amazing seeing all of the comments and reactions and i could not have asked for a better beta ♡

DECEMBER

Sunghoon could have made the winning shot if it weren’t for the praise that was placed on someone else for so long. Lee Heeseung was the best shooting guard his high school had ever seen; anyone with talent and passion for the sport could see that. At the same time, Sunghoon made a lot of calls as the small forward that were imperative to the success of the team. From scoring to handling the ball, Sunghoon could do it all and then some.

If only the captain, the old fart, saw that. And Heeseung, the sanctimonious prick, appreciated him more.

Sunghoon is so wrapped up in his bitter thoughts he can barely focus on your lips attached to his neck and your legs around his waist. You both were cramped in the driver’s side of his car, but you managed to make yourself fit on Sunghoon’s lap to straddle him. In the dark of night, only the two of you parked on the basketball court by the river, you decided to give him a reminder of what the most important thing in his life was outside of winning the championship.

Sunghoon usually spent times like these celebrating with his other teammates, but something was sitting in the front of his mind like a fly he couldn’t swat. You can tell in the furrow of his brows and his scrunched-up mouth. He may not be able to focus on going out and drinking, but it was a benefit to you. Maybe he would finally spend some time with you like he used to.

“Heeseung acts like everyone should worship the ground he walks on. Yeah, he won the game tonight, so what? I could score as many baskets as him if I wanted. And I’ve played as many games as his ass and won. Even once when I had chicken pox.” Sunghoon continues on his rant, unbothered by your mouth and hands on him. You run both of your palms inside of his jersey and feel the skin of his abs underneath your fingers, but Sunghoon doesn’t budge.

“I think you did great, who cares?” You mumble into his neck, focused on making him feel pleasure rather than irritation. You move Sunghoon’s hands to cup your backside, the cheer shorts under your skirt riding up to expose your upper thighs.

“Whatever,” Sunghoon grumbles, eyes looking past you and towards the window.

“What do you mean ‘whatever’?” You pull away from him to look in his eyes. He’s a million miles away, not bothering to pay attention to your impending frustration. His only concerns are himself and his feelings. “Seriously, get over this attitude and talk to me if you’re not gonna at least act interested.”

Sunghoon lets out a frustrated groan and pushes you back into the passenger seat. You yelp in the process, barely landing on your ass. “What the fuck, Hoon?”

“Don’t you see I’m upset and maybe I don’t want to spend another night making out?”

“Another—“ You huff out a breath, shocked at his audacity. “When was the last time we actually spent quality time together?” Before Sunghoon can answer with a basic response, you interrupt him. “And by ‘quality time,” I don’t mean with the guys or Jongseong in attendance.”

“That’s not fair.” Sunghoon tries to hit you with his signature pout, but you don’t budge.

“What’s not fair is that I’m supposed to be your girlfriend but all you care about is huffing and puffing about basketball, complaining about not being the captain, or being a huge jackass.”

“If that’s all I do, then why the fuck are you still around?” Sunghoon bites back, venom dripping from every word.

You look at him with wide eyes, seeing him clearly for the first time in months. After the latter half of the year you’ve been together being a disappointment of epic proportions, the veil finally lifted. Sunghoon does have a point. What are you still doing with him?

“You know what? You’re right.” You exit Sunghoon’s Denali with a grunt and fix your makeup, not letting the tears that threaten to escape fall from your cheeks.

“What are you doing now?”

“You’re right. I’m not gonna waste my time anymore. I’m done.” You slam the passenger door closed and begin your walk from the basketball court to your house, determined not to look back. If he wanted to be that way, then you deserved better.

You hear the slow, incoming huff of Sunghoon’s car, and he rolls the window down to continue your conversation. His lips are in a thin line, his annoyance at an all-time high but now directed completely at you. He says, “So I guess I’ll call you when you’re not so hormonal?”

“Don’t bother. Just fuck off, Sunghoon.”

He nods his head with an angry smirk and rolls the window back up. In a sudden screech, his car races down the empty street, leaving you alone in the night to cry. You weep not just for the future you saw with him coming to a sudden end, but for the past Sunghoon who you believed would never treat you this way now.

You shut your locker with an angry hand, a resounding slam filling the hallway. The strangers around you flinch in response and whisper, some unsure why the head cheerleader is in such a mood today.

“Didn’t you hear? Her and Sunghoon are done,” one of them speaks in a hushed tone.

“Damn. And right after his win? Heartless,” another says with the click of their tongue.

“How about you guys mind your fucking business?” You spit the words in their direction with force before walking away towards your calculus class.

As if anyone knows anything about your relationship or how it came to end. The vipers are always ready to strike when a new hint of gossip comes around, no matter who gets hurt in the process.

To add salt to the wound, Sunghoon saunters up to you and tries to wrap his arm around your shoulder. You shrug him off with a tired grunt.

Many times before you had fought and made up as if the day prior never happened, all smiles and no tears in sight. But you’re tired of the same game you always played with each other. You think to yourself about the way he spoke to you two days ago, and how you would tell any other friend they deserve better.

And you definitely deserve better than that.

“Are you still mad?” Sunghoon asks with a whine. Typically, his childlike voice would make you laugh. Right now, you just feel vomit in the back of your throat.

“I’m not mad. We’re over.” You speak with a defeated but definitive tone, the end of your sentence falling into a whisper.

What’s the point of fighting anymore? With an outside perspective you did not have previously, you realized how exhausting it was going up and down with someone you were supposed to love.

Sunghoon doesn’t keep up with you, somehow understanding from the resignation in your voice and simple response that, as far as you were concerned, you were done with him.

“Goddamnit,” you curse, trying to make the lighter flick to life. For all the times you tried coaxing a flame from the device, it would not budge. First you had to deal with the onslaught of rumors circulating about your sudden breakup, and now you could barely get a lighter to work. Why did Mondays always have to be so awful?

Exhausted, you throw the pack of cigarettes and lighter into the open air. Both objects fall somewhere onto the football field, but you barely notice. You’re too focused on the tears in your eyes and the sobs that leave your mouth to pay attention to anything else.

You know it’s pathetic to sit on the bleachers and cry by yourself about the breakdown of your relationship, but the cyclone of emotions didn’t ask for permission when it hit you. It just did, violently and with little care for your wellbeing. You’re just glad to have the quiet time now to deal with the storm by yourself.

Or so you thought.

Someone walks up to you with both your cigarettes and lighter in his hands. Bang Chan, head quarterback for the football team and senior, smiles at you when you do look up in his direction. He steps back an inch when he notices your puffy eyes and red face. “Sorry,” he says. “Just saw you…lost these…and didn’t know if you wanted them back or not.”

You shake your head. “Throw them out if you want.”

Chan releases a surprised sigh. “Didn’t expect a cheerleader to smoke tobacco.”

His insight makes a smile appear on your lips in spite of the tears. “I never have. I just thought since I kicked one bad habit, why not replace it with another one?”

Chan laughs. He sits down next to you, but stays mindful of your space. “Sunghoon, right?”

You nod, his name a pit in your stomach. “You know him?”

”Just his reputation. Basketball guys can be real assholes.”

”And what about football players?” You counter. “You’re all just perfect angels?”

”Well, we prefer to call ourselves ‘realists’.” You share a laugh with him, relieved to feel something other than apathy or misery. It’s been so long since you’ve been around a guy who didn’t make you doubtful of yourself. Why not enjoy it?

You give Chan your name, but he tells you he was well aware of your presence before. “I mean, you cheer at our games too, y’know, so you’re hard not to notice.”

You blush, your puffy face suddenly red from the comment. “Well, you’re hard not to notice too, Chan.”

Maybe the future for you and Sunghoon had not played out the way you intended, but your future with someone else could potentially be pretty great.

JANUARY

Sunghoon feels pretty out of place every year once the end of the basketball season comes around. Now that he’s single, he wonders what could fill his spare time in a meaningful way. Besides academics, he comes up empty with ideas.

He wouldn’t have chosen to be broken up with, but what else could he have done? He wasn’t going to grovel, not when you were the one making a big deal out of one fight. Eventually, you would come to your senses and come back. You both loved each other too much not to resolve the situation, even if weeks had rolled by without any communication.

Sunghoon is walking with Jay to second period when he sees you chatting with Chan, all smiles and body too close to the senior’s for Sunghoon’s comfort. Jay notices how tense his friend becomes seeing both you and Chan together, shoulders rigid and jaw tight.

”Would it be so bad if you just apologized? Even if you think you didn’t do anything wrong—“

”I know I didn’t,” Sunghoon cuts in, pissed off at the situation he’s in. How did Chan have any right to try and pull the charm out now that you’re available? It makes the blood inside of Sunghoon’s veins boil to a scorching temperature.

”You love her, man. Stop trying to be nonchalant about your feelings.”

The bell for late students rings, and everyone still in the hallway scatters to make it to their classes. Sunghoon feels the muscles in his body twitch seeing you walk away with Chan, arm in arm like you’re the closest of friends.

Writing notes for your physics class is hard when your best friend Wonyoung talks the entire time, her voice projecting to a high shrill. You manage to write while listening to her impassioned speech, but you stop altogether when the subject comes to you and Chan.

”When is he going to ask you out already? Everyone sees the way he looks at you.” Wonyoung bats her eyelashes with a suggestive smirk, and you thwack her away with your notebook.

”We’re just friends. And I’m not trying to date anyone right now.”

”Come on. It’s been three weeks. Nobody would blame you for putting yourself back out there.”

The intercom blares to life, and you hear your name and the request to be seen in the front office. You take your belongings in case the request involves some sort of emergency, your thoughts racing as you head out the door.

When you make it to the front office, all you see is Sunghoon with his back against the secretary’s counter, grinning ear to ear. You’re both alone for the first time since you broke up, and the awkwardness you feel is suffocating.

”Did you do this?” You ask, eyes rolling at his nonchalant posture.

“Miss Kang owed me a favor.” His eyes are vulnerable suddenly, the cloud of indifference shredding a touch. ”Besides, I wanted to see you.”

Those words would’ve made you melt a long time ago, the early days of your relationship marked with gestures like this and sweet nothings leaving his lips. Now, you feel so far from the girl you were when you broke up with him.

”Well I want to get my lab done, so if you’ll excuse me—“

”Wait, wait, please.” He rushes to stop you from leaving the tiny office, his arm firm against the glass door in front of you.

”Sunghoon, this is not—“

”Please, just hear me out.”

You cross your arms and straighten your posture into a firm stance, looking directly in his eyes while waiting for the usual speech to leave his mouth.

You know you’re the only one I want.

”You know you’re the only one I want.”

My intention is never to fight with you.

”My intention is never to fight with you.”

All I want is to work this out, please.

”All I want is to work this out, please.”

You can’t help the broken laugh that leaves your lips, or the well of tears that build up behind your lashes. It’s both heartbreaking and comical that he thinks after weeks of nothing to show for his sudden humility, his half-baked, used-up monologue is the best way to mend your problems.

”Is that it?” you ask, deadpan.

Sunghoon stutters, suddenly at a loss for words. “What do you mean?”

”Is that all you want to say? ‘Cause if it is, then—”

”Why are you being like this?” His pleading tone suddenly becomes one of irritation. He’s not used to you putting up a fight, and now that you are, he doesn’t know how to handle it, like a toddler who can’t find their toy.

That’s all you were to him at the end of the day. A shiny doll to play with and discard when the circumstances didn’t suit him.

“I’m being like this because this is nothing new. And in another couple of days, it’ll be the same problems and the same excuses. It’s gotten old.” You walk out of the door, but hold it open just a touch to give him the last piece of your mind.

”You know what the worst part is, Sunghoon?” You clear your throat, failing to conceal the pain in your voice. “You didn’t even say you want me back because you love me.”

”Of course I love you!”

”Why? Why do you love me?” You throw your hands up at him, voice in tatters from how loud you’re screaming.

His response is exactly what you expected: nothing. No words come to mind or are adequate enough to describe the depth of his feelings for you, or lack thereof.

”That’s what I thought,” you say before walking away. If those are the last words you ever say to him, you’re glad you got them off of your chest.

The Spring Formal was all the talk of Sunghoon’s friends and their girlfriends once the date of the dance was announced. It was two months away, yet the hallways and classes were already littered with hearts and pink banners. Dance proposals were rampant, some even going viral on the school’s social media accounts.

It made Sunghoon sick to his stomach.

Four days ago, he thought he could win you back, but it only made you run further away from him. Was he that predictable? And what did that beefhead Chan have now that Sunghoon suddenly didn’t?

Playing video games with the guys and Heeseung’s girlfriend in attendance, he hoped it would take his mind off of things. But seeing his off-and-on adversary and partner loved up in the corner of Jake’s room didn’t help.

Sunghoon looks at the two of them laughing in each other’s arms and remembers the feeling of your body in his, the first weeks of dating being some of the best of his life. The quick texts during class, the impromptu kisses in his car before saying goodnight, and the secret drives to the beach on the weekends. He remembers them all, even if his cold nature made you think he had forgotten them with a cruel ease.

The memories pain his heart, and the image of a happy couple still basking in their newfound love does nothing but twist the knife.

“Can you guys not be all over each other in front of us? It’s disgusting.” Sunghoon remarks with sarcasm as he shoots one of Jake’s CPUs down. His friend grunts and tries to take out a person on Sunghoon’s team to even the playing field.

Heeseung’s girlfriend quirks an eyebrow, still focused on her boyfriend but ready to throw a comeback Sunghoon’s way. “Aw, someone’s jealous, isn’t he?”

Her saying the words out loud causes the entire room to go quiet. The only sounds come from the TV and automated game dialogue.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sunghoon responds, his voice at a new low.

“Hey man. Watch how you speak to my girlfriend,” Heeseung interrupts, ready to jump from the beanbag he’s sitting in to put his teammate in his place.

His girlfriend places a tender hand on his forearm. “I got this, Hee.” She turns her attention back to Sunghoon, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. “I meant exactly what I said. Your girlfriend was tired of you being a complete prick to everyone, including her.”

Heeseung says his girlfriend’s name in warning, knowing she’s gone a bit too far, no matter how true her words are.

She doesn’t stop though, and Sunghoon is too shocked to form a sentence. “And seeing anyone else happy makes you realize how bad you fucked up and why she was right to drop you.”

Jake makes a face at her too, silently pleading for an end to the fight before more things are said that can’t be taken back.

Sunghoon throws the controller at the TV stand, the device breaking once it hits the wood. Jake and Heeseung curse at him for his reaction, but Sunghoon storms out of the bedroom before he lets his anger go any further.

He sits on the stairs in front of his friend’s house and feels the prick of tears in his eyes. It’s rare for him to allow himself to be vulnerable. The only person in his life who saw him this way was you, and without you, he doesn’t know how to pull himself back from the precipice. Was what Heeseung’s girlfriend said true? Were you right to leave him? Did he not deserve any more chances to do right by you, given how many times he fucked it up before, no matter how much he loved you?

In spite of everything he’s done wrong, he still does. He loves your fire, the stubbornness that mirrors his own so perfectly. He loves your crude sense of humor, the way you can make a joke out of anything, even in the worst of times to make him laugh. And he loves your sweetness, your capability to think of others before yourself, something he’s never been good at and always admired about you even if he never said it. He never said a lot of things he should’ve.

The questions and regrets flood his brain and make him wish he had a time machine. He would go back to the last hour you were together before everything fell apart. To be happy to have you in his arms and grateful to still hold your respect, your effort, and your love.

He hears someone walk up to him, but he doesn’t bother to look. “I’ll apologize later, okay, Jake? I don’t need a lecture right now.”

The feminine grumble makes Sunghoon turn his head, not expecting to see Heeseung’s girlfriend behind him.

“I came to apologize to you.”

Sunghoon looks back to the street in front of him. He decides to avoid prolonging the argument and nods his head. “It’s fine. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“Doesn’t mean it was okay.” She settles down on the stairs next to him. Sunghoon wiggles further towards the railing to make room for her. “Everyone deserves a chance to make things right. Even if they’ve been wrong a lot of the time.”

He discreetly wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. “Even someone like me?”

She chuckles. “Especially someone like you.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Sunghoon doesn’t need to say the multitude of reasons why she deserves an apology. But it makes the aggression between the both of them, as well as a fragment of the guilt in Sunghoon’s heart, dissipate. All that’s left is relief.

She grins, the same feelings evident in her expression. “Apology accepted.”

Sunghoon lets a small smile appear on his lips. He has to practice apologizing more often; the feeling of making amends is pretty satisfying.

FEBRUARY

“Wonyoung, I don’t know where it is!” You say into the receiver of your phone, one hand holding the device to your face as the other rifles through the belongings in your locker. “And I doubt your bracelet is in here.”

“It has to be! I can’t think of any other place it could’ve gone,” she whines, sniffling. It isn’t her fault she’s home sick today, but she would get through her cold just fine without her lucky bracelet. As far as she’s concerned, however, it’s a matter of life and death.

“I’m sure we’ll find it so you can get over this cold,” you coddle her, still searching past the books and bags of snacks.

“I don’t care about that!” Her stuffy, squeaky voice makes you move the phone away from your ear. “I need it for the charity auction. How else are we going to get all of the items sold if I don’t have it?”

You roll your eyes, grateful she can’t see. “Just wow the PTA and student body with your impeccable charm.”

“Yeah yeah, have you found it yet?”

As you continue your search, an array of your belongings tumble out of your locker. You curse and bend down to pick the contents up. Most of them are some old notes for your current classes, but one makes you stop cold.

Wonyoung’s words fade into the background as you hold up the photo strip of you and Sunghoon. The snapshots captured a perfect moment in time before the last six months of your relationship made everything take a turn for the worst.

“You can’t flip off the camera, Hoon!” You giggle as the timer starts for the next picture.

“It’s our pictures, so I have every right to use my middle finger whenever I want.” He nestles his head further into your neck, kissing the spot below your ear. You may be cramped sitting on Sunghoon’s lap in the photo booth of the arcade, but there’s no other place you’d rather be than with him.

As you laugh at his subsequent joke, the shutter goes off again.

“Your laugh is one of my favorite sounds, you know.” Sunghoon moves a stray hair away from your face, smiling ear to ear.

“That’s funny,” you say with a smirk. “That smile is my favorite thing ever.”

“Fuck off.” Sunghoon suddenly becomes shy, his cheeks turning pink.

“I swear, cross my heart.” You raise your hand in salute, and Sunghoon intertwines your fingers with his own.

As you seal your promise with a tender kiss to his lips, you hear the final click of the camera, content with whatever comes next.

You muffle your mouth with your hands, stifling the sob that started to leave your lips.

“Babe, you alright?” Wonyoung asks, another sniffle ending her question.

“Yeah I-I’m okay.” You shake off your sadness and stuff the photo strip in your locker again, half-determined to throw it in the trash nearby. “I gotta go, lunch is gonna be over in like fifteen minutes.”

“Okay. Next place would probably be your car, so just let me know later if you find it. Love you,” Wonyoung says at the end of the call.

Putting your phone in your back pocket and walking back towards the courtyard, you hear the rustle of hands clapping and feet stomping. Everyone at their picnic tables, like you, look towards the sounds.

The football team, all huddled up, begin chanting once you make it closer to them.

“Hey girl, you need a date. Why not make it #8?” They say the words in a morale-boosting rhythm, repeating them with vigor until other tables around them start chanting too. When the huddle opens at the center, Chan appears with a bouquet of flowers and a huge grin.

The team stops once he’s in front of you, Chan shy but determined. Once he gives you the bouquet, he asks, “Wanna be my date to the formal?”

You hide your face in your hands, a wide grin on your face in spite of your sudden bashfulness. Public proposals were never your thing, but with how much effort the guy put into the surprise, how could you say no?

“I’d love to,” you answer, giving him a hug as the crowd around you hollers in support. You’re grateful to have had Chan these past months while dealing with your heartbreak, it seemed to be a natural progression of your relationship. And while nothing’s set in stone, you’re happy something’s on the horizon for you.

But if you’re so happy, why is Sunghoon the first thing that pops in your head after you agree to Chan’s offer?

Thankfully, Wonyoung’s bracelet was in fact in your car behind the passenger seat. How she managed to get it back there was anyone’s guess, but hopefully that meant she would not be so freaked out about the charity auction next week.

In honor of Valentine’s Day, the high school allowed the cheerleading team to host a charity auction every year for a local nonprofit. This year’s was meant to be for the city’s homeless shelter. You worked there last summer to accumulate volunteer hours, and the people you met there had been on your mind every day since. Your goal was to make at least two thousand, but you wish you could do and earn more on your own accord for them. It was important to give back to others when you had so much and took it for granted. Some knew that better than others.

While printing pamphlets and auction tickets, your doorbell rang. You didn’t expect Wonyoung to be up to seeing anyone given her unwell state earlier on the phone, but it was her lucky bracelet. The faster she had it back in her possession the better.

Pulling the door open, the last person you expect to be waiting at your door is Sunghoon. His expression is an amalgamation of emotions, the biggest ones being disbelief and sorrow.

Any time before, back when he was your entire world, you would have pulled him into your arms and kissed away his pain. Even if you hate to admit it to yourself, a part of you still wishes you could.

But while you can be empathetic, you still have to be tough in his presence. Any sign of fragility, and he’ll see the opportunity to creep back in. “Why are you here, Sunghoon?”

“You’re dating him now?”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “What?”

“Chan. You’re together?” You see the tremble of his bottom lip and the lock of his jaw, his composure clearly hanging by a thread. It’s been a long time since you saw Sunghoon so unguarded, you’re unsure if it’s because he’s truly vulnerable or he’s on his last play to win you back.

No matter the reason, you answer with an exasperated sigh. “He just asked me to the formal, okay? He’s my friend.”

“Friends don’t ask friends to go to the dance with flowers.”

You bite your bottom lip, unsure what to say to that. “It doesn’t concern you anymore.”

Sunghoon releases a bitter chuckle, the sound of the laughter dying on his tongue midway. “It does concern me if you’re with someone else.”

“I just told you–”

“I get that.” He runs a hand through his hair, his voice frail at the edges. “But I know what it's like to want you, and I see it when Chan looks at you. And who can blame him right?”

Taking advantage of your stunned silence, Sunghoon keeps going. “When you asked me before why I love you, I didn’t realize how much I took advantage of you. I didn’t appreciate you the way I should’ve, and now I–I miss so many things. I miss the smell of your perfume in my car and the look you’d give me when you were calling me out on my bullshit, which was eighty-five percent of the time. I miss knowing you had my back even if I was in the wrong because you saw the best parts of me on days I didn’t see them at all.

“I miss you, and I love you, and I don’t know how to stop,” Sunghoon whispers. When he tries to step closer to you, you place a hand on his chest, safeguarding some sort of distance and composure between you. He presses his hand over yours, thumb rubbing across the skin on the back of your hand, making you suck in a breath.

It was every word and more that you yearned to hear from him since you parted ways. While the naysayers continued their dialogue about the demise of your relationship, nobody bothered to think about whether or not you wanted to let go in the first place. You had to, or it would’ve been the same patterns occurring over and over.

Maybe this moment, this speech, and this Sunghoon, can be a break in the chain. Maybe he’s truly adamant on turning over a new leaf for the better, for the chance to try again and do it right this time. Would it be so wrong to take the chance and give him the benefit of the doubt one more time?

But who truly knew he would change his ways except for Sunghoon himself? Could you run the risk of the cycle repeating itself again for the future you wanted? How were you meant to believe him this time with history on your side?

You retract your hand from his chest, your heart cracking in the parts he forced you to mend in the first place. “I can’t do this.”

He swallows forcefully and takes a step back, respecting your wishes. “I understand.” He walks down your driveway and to his car, leaving you with the image of his somber, close-lipped smile.

Sunghoon watches you walk back into your house, his heart in tatters. He looks at the bundle of roses sitting in the passenger seat and promises to himself to fight just a little longer. Giving up means losing you forever, and he’ll die before accepting that loss.

A big banner for the homeless shelter hangs on one of the gymnasium walls. The cheerleaders continue placing decor around the space for tomorrow’s auction, some hand-drawn by the girls and others donated from the PTA in previous years. You look around with your clipboard, items checked off throughout the day to signal your progress. With less than twenty-four hours to go before the auction, it was imperative to create the perfect atmosphere to sell as many items as possible.

Wonyoung skips over to you, her pigtails swinging in the air and a cluster of colorful streamers dangling from her hands. “Where do you want these, babe?”

“Lining the front of the bleachers. That way once the tables are set up we don’t have to work around them.” You check off another bullet,

“You got it boss!” She winks at you, her expression teasing. Before she can walk away though, Principal Han and Coach Chae walk into the gym. Coach Chae has a bouquet while Principal Han holds a thin piece of paper.

The two gentlemen walk up to you and Wonyoung, beaming. “Great turn of events ladies,” Principal Han says. “The auction has been canceled.”

“What,” Wonyoung yells. The two men flinch at her reaction, but Coach Chae laughs off his reaction.

“No need to worry, Miss Jang,” Coach Chae responds. “There will still be a gala. Just not an auction. Think of it as a celebratory gala, if you will.”

“What do you mean?” You ask. You press your clipboard tighter to your chest, anxiety spiking. You put your heart into this event for the success of the fundraiser. Why was it suddenly crashing down?

“Someone already donated more than enough to reach your goal. Five thousand, to be exact.”

A silent gasp leaves your lips. The clipboard almost slips from your fingers, but Wonyoung manages to catch it before it clatters onto the gym floor.

”Holy sh—sorry. Holy moly!” Wonyoung exclaims, a smile matching the ones on the older gentlemen’s faces.

“Congratulations, girls. Now you can kick your feet up and enjoy the festivities tomorrow all thanks to your mystery donor,” Principal Han says.

”Mystery donor?” The mix of emotions in your stomach morphs to confused curiosity. “They didn’t leave their name on the check?”

”No. Just the card that came with the flowers,” Coach Chae answers. He hands the bouquet of roses and the comment card to you, the floral smell suddenly wafting in your nose.

You could recognize the script anywhere, the slants and slopes of the handwriting belonging to only one person. The contents of the card make your heart swell and sink deeper, causing you to question everything once more.

For reminding me to cherish all the things I took for granted.

MARCH

On the night of the Spring Formal, a week had passed since that day in the gymnasium which upended a majority of your feelings. Your thoughts have run rampant in your mind since, regrets and doubts sitting at the forefront of your brain.

Your mother was fixing the last pieces of your hair into the intricate bun she created. Looking in the mirror, the tendrils of your bangs falling out from the hairstyle frame your face. Grace exudes from your makeup and the dress you’ve chosen, the strapless champagne gown the centerpiece of your entire look.

”You’re a vision, honey,” She says, her eyes bright in the hallway mirror behind you.

You may look beautiful, but your thoughts make you feel small, unsure of everything you thought you knew or wanted before.

You had not seen Sunghoon since that night on your front porch almost two weeks ago, your ex choosing to respect your wishes and stay away just as you requested. Now, in spite of all the ways he vexed you to no end, you missed him just like he said he missed you. Maybe you suppressed yourself from grieving the end of your relationship, jumping headfirst into a new friendship with Chan and the other priorities in your life. Or maybe it was because he still had your entire heart, even if you wished he didn’t.

”Chan should be here any minute,” your mother says, interrupting your thoughts.

You respond with a nod and small smile, fidgeting with the top of your dress to conceal some of your cleavage.

Your mother frowns. ”Honey, what’s wrong?” She puts her hands on your shoulders, her presence the right amount of concerned and warm.

”Do you think people can change?”

She gives you a knowing smile, the topic of conversation not being said out loud but obvious to the both of you. “When someone has the desire to, they can. Especially when they have a good reason to.”

The doorbell rings, and she kisses you on the cheek. “I’ll let you get that. I’m gonna run and grab the camera.”

You answer the door, half-expecting to see Chan with flowers and his signature grin. What you find, however, makes your heart constrict with surprise and longing that you didn’t expect to feel so strongly.

Sunghoon in a three-piece suit, hair slicked back, and a corsage looks like the picture-perfect man. When you envisioned this night before, the image of him in front of you always came to mind. And now, you could not be closer to and further from those expectations.

“I wanted to give you this before…I mean, I already bought it, and you deserve to have it.” He twiddles the corsage between his hands. His eyes ask for explicit permission before he places it on your wrist.

Without a second thought, you nod.

Sunghoon steps closer, relieved to have received the green light. The tension between you is palpable in the air, flickering hot and reflecting the same feelings you harbored weeks ago when you were in the same position then. He carefully puts the strap around your wrist, tightening it until it’s snug.

The golden-trimmed roses match your dress flawlessly, so much so you wonder how he managed to remember the color of the dress you dreamed of for this night.

Like he can read your mind, he says, “You’ve been talking about this dance since the start of the school year.” He laughs, the sound hollow.

“Thank you,” you say, the two words expanding far beyond the roses on your wrist.

Thank you for the flowers. Thank you for going above and beyond with that check. Thank you for showing you’re trying.

The smile he gives you touches his eyes, the edges of his expression almost golden in the light of the sunset. “It’s the least I could do.”

Without thinking, he’s so close you can feel the rising pace of his and your breath mixing together. It would be so easy to close the distance, touch his lips with yours, and fall back into his embrace with no regard for the next minute.

Before you can contemplate it further, you see Chan out of the corner of your eye walking up your driveway. His mouth is in a firm line and his posture reflects his discomfort.

Sunghoon steps away from you. He acknowledges Chan with a nod, not terse or disrespectful, but clearly disappointed. He kisses the back of your palm quickly and lets it go. “Have fun tonight, okay?”

Before he walks away for good, leaving you and Chan alone, he finishes with, “By the way, you look breathtaking.”

As Chan gets closer and Sunghoon heads down the road to his car, you think maybe your ex is taking all of your breath with him.

Sunghoon downs the drink in the plastic cup. The tinge of alcohol Jay put in his drink can’t seem to take away the burn of watching you and Chan dance together. The DJ for the dance is playing an uptempo number. Thankfully you’re not holding each other close, but it’s still a punch to the stomach seeing you smiling with a guy that isn’t him. In a gym filled with so many of his peers, he’s never felt so alone.

He drove to the dance by himself, Jake and Jay too entangled in their own love lives to soften the blow of Sunghoon’s continued misery. Heeseung and his girlfriend remain loved up in their own private corner of the dance floor. Sunghoon isn’t jealous or petty, though, although he’s well-accustomed to both emotions at this point. All he feels is some semblance of gratitude for the people enjoying the festivities of the night with a person they care about.

Heeseung’s girlfriend steps away from her partner with a kiss on his lips, somehow sensing Sunghoon’s despair. She walks over to him, a sad smile on her face as she approaches the lone guy at his idle table. “No luck, huh?”

Sunghoon nods and tips his drink at her. “You could say that.”

Heeseung comes up in record time, Sunghoon’s teammate unable to stay away from his lover for too long. He clears his throat and looks toward the younger guy with quiet condolences. “Listen, Hoon. Just talk to her and be honest. Stop dancing around your feelings.”

Sunghoon scoffs into his cup, the sound echoing in the plastic. “As if I could steal her away from beefcake over there. Like your missus said, she’s better off.”

“You know I apologized for that!” Heeseung’s girlfriend mirrors Sunghoon’s reaction, puffing out a breath of air and rolling her eyes. “And if that’s the case, why has she been looking over here at least every five minutes?”

Sunghoon glances past the rim of his cup and catches you staring just as Heeseung’s girlfriend makes her point.

Your eyes are filled with a plethora of unspoken feelings, ones Sunghoon may have the words for but cannot manage to speak. Why did words hold so much more power when it was too late to say them? Did he still have time at all, or was the opportunity to be transparent long gone? It’s too much to process; all he can do is look away from you, the guilt hitting him square in his chest.

Heeseung and his girlfriend share a conspiratory look, plotting something. Sunghoon takes a gulp of air, unsure if he wants to know exactly what they’re planning.

“Be on the rooftop in ten minutes. And make sure you know what you’re gonna say, idiot,” Heeseung’s girlfriend commands, her smirk flashing wickedly under the gymnasium lights.

“Hey!” Heeseung and his girlfriend run up to your spot by the punch bowl. You were absentmindedly staring at the fruit concoction in the tub while Chan had raced off to the bathroom, promising to be back in five.

“What’s up?” You ask, giving his girlfriend a polite and acknowledging smile.

“Something happened on the rooftop with one of the girls on the squad. I think she got food poisoning or something,”

“Yeah,” Heeseung’s girlfriend comments. “Wonyoung told us to get you ‘cause she needs some help bringing the poor girl back downstairs.”

You roll your eyes and set your cup on the plastic table in front of you. If it’s Leeseo again, you may just have to kill her.

The couple follows close behind as you make it to the stairwell door leading up to the rooftop. You wonder why the two didn’t help Wonyoung in the first place, but maybe the girl in question requested you personally and didn’t want to be embarrassed by being assisted by strangers.

Opening the rooftop entrance, you see Sunghoon standing near the edge, kicking gravel off the side of the building. Your heart seizes up, glad but caught off-guard to be seeing him right now.

In an instant, the door closes behind you, locking from the outside. You bang on it, unsure what’s happening. “What the fuck, guys?”

“You’re not coming out until we hear some talking!”

The sudden quiet is deafening, the only reprieve being the breeze passing through the trees surrounding the school. You run your hands across your arms, feeling the chill now that you’re outside but also unsure of what to do in this situation.

Sunghoon immediately sheds his jacket and walks over to you. He waits with the article in his hands before you nod meekly. He wraps it around your shoulders protectively, making sure your arms go through the sleeves. “Better?”

“Much, thank you,” you whisper.

Sunghoon looks deeply into your eyes, knocking any subsequent words from your conscious mind. You bite your lip instinctively, tense from his lack of distance between your bodies. Why did he still have the capability to steal your train of thought without trying?

He blows out a breath, the sound of his voice flimsy in the spring air. “When I first joined the basketball team, I didn’t know if and how I would measure up,” Sunghoon begins. “I was fifteen and terrified of playing next to someone as good as Heeseung and always being compared to him.

“And I took all those worries about being not good enough and took it out on everyone. I let it ruin the most perfect thing in my life because I thought acting like I didn’t care would stop me from feeling insecure. What an idiot, right?”

Sunghoon brushes a free bang from your face. His eyes are glassy, the vulnerability he’s showing you at an all-time high. “I should’ve realized the girl I love didn’t care if I was the best or the worst basketball player ever, as long as I was hers and didn’t forget it. I just didn’t know it then. And now that I’ve realized what a fool I’ve been, all I want now is to spend the rest of my time making it up to her.”

The confession knocks any remaining resolve out of you, unable to bear the pain in his face or the uncertainty that hangs in the air. You slam your lips into his, the kiss both bruising and healing in the same motion. It rejuvenates all the parts of you that had been withered away since the night you broke up and couldn’t be revived without him.

Sunghoon feels the effects of the kiss as well, his gasps and whimpers exemplifying his surprise and relief to have you back in his arms. Holding you, kissing you, being with you, you can tell he’s worried the moment’s a figment of his imagination. If he doesn’t cherish it, you’ll float away. And he can’t survive that for a second time.

You part for air, but your lips still ghost over each other’s, unable to be parted now that he’s within your reach again.

With your voice laced with the unshed tears in your eyes, you ask, “What took you so damn long, you idiot?”

Sunghoon can only respond with a joyful laugh and another kiss to your lips, making up for his unsaid apologies and shit timing with his mouth.

Now that your body is against his, your hearts beating rapidly but once-again in tune with each other, he’s certain now he’ll never be stupid enough to forget your worth and let you go again. Because the pleasure he used to call home is back in his life, and he couldn’t feel more at ease.

Sunghoon’s laughing when he unlocks the front door of his house, his face in a permanent grin since you kissed a few hours prior. You spent the time before ending up here driving around town, too enraptured with each other to focus on your friends or the rest of the dance’s festivities. You didn’t leave without Heeseung giving Sunghoon a slap to the back and Wonyoung crying at your reconciliation.

The house is quiet, a result of Sunghoon’s parents being abroad for the past few days. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look, by the way?” Sunghoon mentions again when he closes the door behind you. He immediately pulls you in by the waist, showering the skin of your neck in kisses.

You giggle and weave your hands into his hair, a gasp leaving you when he takes your earlobe between his teeth. “Probably for the hundredth time by now.”

“Well you do.” He presses another kiss to the spot below your ear, making you shiver. “And I’m not gonna stop saying it.”

You smirk and move your hands to both sides of his face, forcing you to look at him. “I didn’t expect the night to go like this.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.” His voice is teasing, but his eyes are suddenly lined with anxiety. His body tenses in your embrace, the worry that you’re having second thoughts weighing on his happiness.

You ease his doubts with a deep kiss, holding him close and hoping that assures him you’re not going anywhere. “A great thing.”

The smile you love so much appears once he’s at peace, and peppers your entire face with kisses. You laugh out loud, but he can tell you love the adoration he’s providing you.

You could definitely get used to this new Sunghoon, the night already filled with so much magic.

“I’ll be back.” He grins wide, canines on full display. Another kiss punctuates the sentence. “Don’t go anywhere.” Another.

You laugh out loud and nod your head. He dramatically holds onto your hand until he’s forced to let go. He runs down the hallway and into his bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you in the sitting room of his house.

Twenty minutes later, you’re sitting on the loveseat in the sitting room when Sunghoon comes back out.

“My lady, follow me.” He bows and holds out his hand for you to take, and you smile ear to ear when you lace your fingers with his. You’re unsure what’s waiting for you on the other side of his bedroom door, but you know it must be another surprise your boyfriend has gone above and beyond to amaze you with.

Surely enough, it makes you gasp out loud and press your free hand to your chest.

Sunghoon’s bedroom is showered in a radiant glow from dozens of candles, all different sizes but the same light creating a sweet, calming ambience. Fairy lights hang on the walls, aiding in the atmosphere he’s created. Music plays at a low sound from the speakers near the television, Sunghoon’s phone hooked up to the system. To top it all off, there’s another bouquet of white roses sitting on his side table, some petals lining the edges of the floor around his bed.

When you thought about this night in your dreams, it always ended here, being so in love. He’s made those dreams come true, right down to the letter, and you could not be more in love with him than in this moment.

Sunghoon comes closer. He presses his chest to your back, encasing your body with his arms and kissing your neck once again. You try to stifle the sob that comes out, but he hears it and retracts. “Shit, do you not like it? I can blow the candles out and–”

You turn in his embrace, shaking your head furiously. “No, I love it.” You wipe your tears, laughing at the reaction he’s pulled out of you. “I’m just–it doesn’t feel like it’s real.”

“It is.” He takes the side of your face in his hand, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “And I’ll remind you every day if you need me to.”

“I love you so much,” you respond, kissing the inside of his palm. You pull him closer, reconnecting your lips with his. You feel whole in a way you haven’t in weeks, knowing now for certain this happiness coupled with Sunghoon’s love is the perfect combination to sustain you.

“I love you too,” he says in between kisses, his mouth turning sloppy. You feel his growing hardness against you. It had been months since the last time you were intimate. You think as Sunghoon pulls you in closer than before, groaning into your mouth, that tonight’s the perfect time to reconnect in more ways than just emotionally.

“I missed you so much,” you moan, tugging his jacket from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. You run your arms across his chest, still covered by the cotton button up he’s wearing, but you quickly make do with the buttons on his shirt to feel the skin underneath.

He shivers under your touch, but he manages to find the zipper of your dress and lower it down until the dress easily slips from your body. You step out of it, careful not to tread over the fabric. Your focus remains on undressing Sunghoon until he’s as naked as you are, wearing only your underwear and shoes. He’s shirtless thanks to you undoing his buttons, but you want all of him exposed.

You try to pull down the zipper of his pants, but he stops you, his eyes lust-filled but patient. “This night is about you, baby. Not me.”

“Please, let me touch you.” You whine, holding onto the belt-loops on his pants.

“Not yet.” He moves you both back until you’re at the edge of the bed. He motions for you to sit down. Once you do, he gets onto his knees in front of you, the man you love on a mission. “Let me make you feel good first.”

He takes the heels off of your feet and sets them down beside your dress. When he does, he begins his slow torture of kissing up your ankles to the insides of your thighs. You lay your body back on his bed, whimpering and body on the verge of shaking when he finally pulls the underwear from your legs.

“Fuck, Hoon,” you say out loud when he presses a kiss to your clit, taking the nub between his lips and sucking tenderly while rubbing his hands on the curves of your hips. He takes one hand to reach out and grab one of your breasts, expertly taking your nipple between his thumb and index finger as his tongue licks along the insides of your center. “Please don’t stop,” you whisper.

“Wasn’t planning on it, my love.” His tongue moves at a faster pace, matching the writhing of your hips crashing into his face to gain every ounce of pleasure he’s giving you.

Before, you wouldn’t have imagined being back in this bedroom with him, and now there’s no other place you wanted to exist.

“Hoon, please. I want you,” you say, one hand clutching his comforter and the other entangled in his hair.

“You have me, always.” His tongue slips inside of your pussy, the feeling of the muscle against your walls causing you to cry out in pleasure.

“I’m not moving until you come, baby. I know you’re close.” The pleasure has been building since the moment he had his mouth wrapped around your neck when you stepped into his house. And now, with his mouth buried inside of you and sweet words accompanying such dirty actions fuels your body’s speedrun to your release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you curse, your orgasm hitting you like the crash of a wave before you go underwater. But you don’t care to drown if it feels this satisfying.

You laugh breathlessly when the end of your release comes. Sunghoon wipes your essence off of his lips with the back of his hand, smiling bashfully. Every action of his before is incredibly contrary to his shy expression, but you love it.

Ridding himself of his pants, Sunghoon’s cock springs free from the constricting article of clothing. The tip is leaking with precum, but he isn’t in a rush to jump on top of you like the many times before when you both were too frustrated to worry with foreplay.

He kisses you with all he has when he crawls on top of you. His tongue inside of your mouth fills it with the taste of your slick. In a blip, he has a condom in his hand and puts it on with quick skill. There’s no need to prep you, your previous orgasm leaving you wet and waiting for him to line up with your entrance and slip inside.

He does it expertly. Both of you tremble from the feeling you long forgot felt so otherworldly, his cock making a home within your walls and your body adjusting to the delicious stretch.

The song in the background fills your ears with the sounds of a slow-strumming guitar, reflecting the thrust of Sunghoon’s hips. Your hips meet his when he’s filled you to the hilt, causing you to sigh. “Fuck, just like that.”

“You’re so beautiful,” Sunghoon whispers between thrusts, moaning sweet nothings into your mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” you whisper in kind, gasping. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each press of his hips, exiting slowly and pushing back inside until there’s no space left to accommodate him.

How could you be so filled, figuratively and literally, by the love he had to offer you? For anyone else who’s never known the feelings stirring inside of you, a mixture of sinful pleasure and pure happiness, you feel sorry for them. If everyone in the world did, they might have been labeled as two extra wonders of the world.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come again,” you say, clutching onto his hips. You bite down on the skin of his shoulder, releasing your moans into his skin as his pace speeds up.

“Yes, baby, give it to me,” he groans, gulping hard and body frantic to take you both to the your climaxes. You feel the stars behind your eyes when your second orgasm comes, a long cry leaving your lips. Sunghoon matches it with a broken moan, the sound coming out in fragments as he spills inside of the condom.

Sunghoon lathers your face in deep, heartfelt kisses before pulling out. He walks to the bathroom quickly, throwing away the condom in the trash and grabbing a cloth to clean you up. He runs the fabric between your legs, careful not to press down too hard and overstimulate you.

You both crawl under the covers after he throws the rag in his hamper, your body immediately snuggling into his. The crown of your head receives another blitz of kisses, your smile hurting your cheeks from how wide it goes.

“I love you,” Sunghoon says, the words coming without a second thought.

And with no regrets on your mind or in your heart, resolute in your decision to forgive him, you say, “I love you, too, Hoon. Always.”

People could always change if they had the determination and inspiration to do so, and you know that for sure now. In the arms of the one you love, that fact could not be more true.