#i was going to actually say something but couldn't find the words

[enwoso]

CASUAL — leah williamson

wow, it’s a long one. this has admittedly taken me so long to write. i had the idea of this fic at the start of october but for some reason its just took so long to actually finish lol, but anyways as always hope you enjoy🤍

warning: implied smut, mdni 18+

masterlist

"girl where did you end up last night?" your best friend and also flatmate, amelie asked as you sat in your local cafe debriefing from last nights' night out events over a 'morning' coffee — it was more late afternoon — the two of you having very different endings to the night.

you sat swirling the dregs of your coffee around as you tried to find the way to explain, not so much how you didn't end up back at the flat cause you know she's knows that after catching you walking through the front door at nine am this morning in last nights clothes your head hanging from both the severe amount of alcohol you'd consumed last night but also in slight shame.

it was more whose apartment you stayed at you were trying to find the words to tell her about.

"oh y/n. you didn't did you-" amelie began as you nodded as a defeated sigh left your lips. that being all the clarification your best friend needed. ok, it may not be your proudest moment but who are you to deny a sexy, goddess of a women. but you knew this was heading in the direction of your getting another ear full.

"y/n.. what have i told you, you need to cut all ties with leah. you deserve someone who's going to treat you so much better-" amelie reached out grabbing your hands as you were still looking down at your coffee cup, you looked up a little.

you knew she was right, but you couldn't admit that to yourself. there was something about leah she was addicting and no matter how many times you ended up in between her sheets telling yourself it was the last time, it always happened again.

"yeah but-" you began but amelie gave you a stern look as her eyebrows raised as you rolled your eyes, "ok i get the message, i'll put it on my to-do list — cut leah williamson off." you dryly said, knowing it would be easier said than actually done.

"seriously you need too, your acting like a loser-" amelie continued as you opened your mouth to say something about the small insult she'd thrown your way but you were unable to. "you are though, your better than the rumours that people are spitting-"

"how do you-"

"people talk y/n!"

you'd heard the rumours going around the locals plus there'd been some article posted on an instagram post noticing you in leah's car after a match — you being labelled as 'mysterious girl'.

you weren't known to the media, thank god, you were lucky if you had over two hundred followers as if you had anymore than that fans would have an absolute field day with the news.

instead you were just a normal, twenty six year old girl who'd grown up in north london and had the usual nine to five corporate job as well as having a casual relationship with the leah williamson but you kept that under wraps as after all it was just something which was casual.

you'd met through a mutual friend of yours who also happened to be one of leah's teammates. lotte, who you went to school together and you'd stayed somewhat in contact. it always being a pleasant surprise to see her whenever your paths crossed.

you had bumped into her in a coffee shop near hours before you were being pressed up against a club wall by a blonde defender, having had one too many. the two of you had spent the night being overly touchy and flirting, her lips being felt all around your body leaving your skin feeling hot and your head all fuzzy.

"mine or yours?" leah whispered against your ear, as her teeth grazed your earlobe, you having to refrain yourself from whimpering. leah's hands gripping your hips as your were tangled in the ends of her hair.

"yours" you managed to get out, although it was quiet leah hear every letter. her hands reaching up to grab your hand as she dragged you through the club and towards the exit without as much of a bat of an eyelid towards her friends who she was leaving behind.

to both your luck there was a black cab waiting on the side of the road, both of you taking the chance to get in as leah immediately told the driver her address.

leah's hand stayed on your thigh the entire time as her thumb drew little circles absentmindedly, the busy streets of london making it feel like it's taken hours just to get a few minutes up the road.

as you watched out the window there was a cloud of regret you knew you'd feel in the morning but right now that wasn't what you mind wanted. you right now wanted leah.

so as soon as you cross the threshold of her apartment, you were pinned against the wall. the coldness sending a sharp shiver down your spine. "your so gorgeous" leah whispered as her eyes darkened, the sweet innocence of her blue eyes long gone.

inching closer so that your faces were impossibly close, taking one of her hands as it lands on the back of your neck and kisses you. slow but deep.

letting yourself get lost in her lips as it becomes more passionate and searching but then leah leans back a little, realising that you were in the middle of her hallway.

"come with me, baby" she whispers, her accent thick as the pet name rolls off her tongue but laced with love making your head spin even more as she extends her hand for you to grab as she leads you towards her bedroom, pushing the door open with her foot as her other hand laces itself back around you waist pulling you back to being impossibly close to her.

giving her a teasing look as she kisses you again this one more needy and fervent. feeling her hands all around your body nipping and pulling at your skin as you feel the back of you legs on the edge of her bed. a slight push and you back met with softness of her white sheets.

a small moan leaving leah's lips into the kiss as she felt your hands gently squeeze her ass, feeling her smile against your lips knowing that you were having the same affect on her as she was on you. you were both driving each other crazy.

as the kiss grow more sloppy as whines were being strung from both of your lips, your hips mindlessly starting to slowly grind against her. leah moving to kiss your neck leaving small kisses and sucking on your neck that elicited small moans from your lips as your breathing hitches.

leah's kisses to your neck becoming more intense you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second as you hips carried on to move against her. your hands lingering on her back as your nails dug that little deeper, more than likely leaving scratch marks.

"please le-" you moan out softly, needing more.

-

that wasn't the last time you saw the blonde defender, nor the last time you ended up with your limbs tangled between each other.

whenever the other had, had a drink or just when you needed company leah seemed to always be there. you felt like you craved her at all hours of the day. you found your mind sometimes wondering what she may be doing when you weren't by her side.

but you weren't together, it was just a casual thing. is what you found you were telling yourself.

but with each weekend that passed you found yourself spending them with leah more and more often. which is exactly what had happened this weekend.

leah had called you, she never calls you only ever texts. strange is what you thought when you saw her caller id on the screen a small smile slipping onto your lips as you pressed accept.

"hello?" you said as leah was yet to speak, you thought maybe she had called the wrong number. maybe she hadn't meant to call you .

"hi y/n-" she finally spoke but she lacked her usual confident tone, this time it had been replaced with a nervous shake of her accent. like she had something in her head that she needed to get out.

"did you need something le?" you ask as there is a deafening silence on the other end, a few rustling sounds before leah clears her throat.

"um are you doing anything this afternoon-" leah paused as you think to your plans for the afternoon, "more specifically are you doing anything at two?" leah continued as she waited your response as you hummed.

"no i should be free, why?" you asked wondering what this was going to lead to, what did she have planned.

"fabulous!" a breath of relief was let out from leah as she had a big grin on her face on the other line which if you could have saw would have made you smile, "since you aren't doing anything, do you wanna come to my match?"

you felt as though her words had just fell on deaf ears, you couldn't believe what you were actually hearing. ever since you and leah had- well whatever your relationship was it had always been in the darkness of everyone else, behind peoples back and away from prying eyes.

this felt like a step, you didn't know what direction but it felt like it meant something good.

as you tried to contain your happiness you nodded forgetting she wasn't actually in the room with you, "i- um i would love to le"

"great! i'll erm get your tickets sorted and send them over" leah explained as you hummed along before she quickly had to say her goodbyes claiming that she needed to get her pre match routine started.

since having to re-organise your afternoon, you were now going around rushing trying to find an outfit. not knowing if it was too cliche you going in an arsenal jersey of leah's or whether a subtle hint of red in your outfit would be a better idea.

deciding on just the subtle hint of red, finding a red cap which just so happen to also be leah’s which she’d left at yours after one night.

once you got the match you were amazed at the amount of people who had turned up, yourself not being as clued in of how big a scale women’s football was as admittedly you didn’t exactly have a big interest in football or in sport in general.

but for leah, you’d sit and watch football match after match if you knew it would make her happy.

once you found your seat in the stand you quickly sent the blonde a message not expecting her to even reply but she did.

Y/N:) - i’m here! good luck, i’ll be cheering you on☺️

LE<3 - i seen you! i’ve been looking for that hat. but i think it’s found a better home now;)

LE<3 - meet me near the dugout at the end!

finding yourself smiling at her messages as she sent another telling you what to say to the security so they would let you in to where leah wanted you to be, before slipping your phone back into your pocket ready to watch a game of football.

the ninety minutes felt as if they flew by, and at first you must admit you didn’t exactly understand what you were watching so you just cheered when everyone else around you did, but at the first half and definitely into the second half you managed to get a few rules down — with the help of a google search..

watching as leah walked around clapping and waving to fans looking so effortlessly good in her kit and with the fact she’d just run around for a good ninety minutes it never managed to fail to surprise you how easy she made it look.

despite the team only coming out with a draw which you knew leah would be slightly huffed about especially since they were by far the better team, you still were incredibly proud of her.

walking down and reciting the exact words that leah had messaged you to the security you made it to where she had told you to meet her, but that’s when a certain someone recognised you. a wide smile and arms wide open for you.

"oh y/n it's lovely to see you" amanda engulfed you in a hug, a warm fuzzy but also bittersweet feeling filling your chest. you'd met her mum totally by accident one of the first times that you and leah slept together. she'd been dropping of groceries for her daughter. leah trying to rush you out the door before things got to awkward.

but instead amanda being the polite women she is asked her daughter to introduce you to her. it ending up you stayed an extra two hours longer than you'd planned much to leah's discomfort, but in a way that made it all the more that enjoyable.

"what you doing after here?" amanda asked as she pulled you out the hug, leah lingering just behind you chewing the inside of her lip. "just if your not busy you can always join us for a few drinks" amanda smiled so sincerely as you thought over the invitiation briefly, would it be awkward - maybe? but friends can go out for drinks too!

“yeah, i’d love too” you grinned as a small cheer left amanda’s lips, you seeing the slight falter of a look on leah’s face before it turned back to her signature tight lipped frown.

or maybe you did it just to spite the blonde defender who stood so nervous next to you.

"brilliant! leah we'll wait out at the cars for you" amanda directed towards her daughter as she nodded a small sigh leaving her lips as she plastered on a fake smile, you knew there was a part of her that didnt want you there but that just added fuel to your fire.

amanda looping her arm with yours as the two of you walked towards where the cars would be at the back of the emirates stadium to take you and the williamson family for a few drinks to celebrate the win.

"so how have you been?" amanda asks as she walks beside you, a genuine interest in her tone, as you hum catching her up with your life which hadn't been all that exciting, most days merging into one.

"leah tells me you've been helping her with some business project? how's it going?" amanda asks and you swear your throat started to close up, your words getting stuck in between your lips as your eyes goes wide.

"oh- um yeah it's coming together-" quite literally. you stutter out a response hoping it doesn't raise to much suspicion and praying that the topic is over with just as quick as it came.

"leah won't give me a clue what it's about" amanda complains as she continues to tell you about the countless times she tried to get it out of her daughter as you hummed along more in your head as to why leah would say you were just business partners? why not just say your friends, cause after all you were?

"mhm well i won't be one to spoil the surprise then" you nervously chuckled as you saw the cars in the distance knowing you were close to the end of the conversation. amanda letting out a groan as she hoped she'd be able to get the big surprise out of you but that would be pretty hard considering there was no big surprise.

you were going to have to talk with leah, which would be a little odd as when the two of you were alone, not much talking would be done well not the converse action.

amanda letting go of your arm as she got into the other side of the cab, leah coming out the exit of the back of the stadium as she jogged quickly getting into the people carrier. sitting herself in the seat next to you as she shot you a soft smile.

-

the night was actually going smoothly, leah seemed to get out of whatever strop she was in when you were stood with her family in the emirates and was actually talking to you now. well more flirting with you. her hand getting dangerously high up on your thigh as she spoke.

"have i told you how pretty you look-" she blurted out as you took a small sip of your drink, a small smile appearing on your face as you lifted the glass from your lips and back to the table.

"you may have mentioned a few times" you whispered as this time it was leah's time to smile as her hand drifted a little further up your thigh as you shot her look as she squeezed your thigh making you jump in your seat a little.

"le-" you harhsly said inbetween your teeth as she looked at you so innocently as if she had not clue what she was doing to you but you know she knew. leah knew what her touch was doing to you and how it was affecting you.

leah had you right where she wanted you and honestly, you were going to let her - you'd face the consequences later on. right now, you wanted her, in more ways than one.

standing up with a loud scrape of your chair, all eyes turning to land on you, "m'sorry just- i'll be back-" you stutter out, your cheeks all flushed as you made a beeline straight for the toilets.

amanda looking worryingly over her shoulder at you before turning to leah, who just simply shrugged that making her mum's eyebrows furrow even more.

"i better go and check on her" leah stood up excusing herself as she followed suit pushing the door on the pub toilet door seeing you touching up your lip gloss as you regained your composure from the feeling on her hands on your body.

leah locking the door behind her, a rye smile on her lips as she stepped just that little bit closer to you, feeling your heart beat just that little bit faster.

was it nerves, probably but maybe it was more the uncertainty as you never knew what you were going to get with the blonde.

"are you sure?" leah whispered as she placed a quick kiss to your cheek before resting her hands to your hips as a smug smile came from you before you nodded.

"do you think you can keep up?" leah teased as your shot her a shocked look as she pulled you into deeper into the bathroom, your back now pushed flush against the sink.

"i'm sure i can.. business partner-" you whisper as you inch closer to her, making your eyes switch between her eyes and lips a flash of shock appearing on her face.

but just as leah opened her mouth to say another teasing comment, you wrap your hand behind her neck and slam your lips against hers. the kiss quickly turning heated when leah's tongue enters your mouth as a familiar warmth floods your body in seconds,

her hands gripping at your waist as she tugs you closer to her without breaking the kiss. the sound of your lips together was enough to leave an uncomfortable throbbing inbetween your legs.

leah pulls back for a moment searching for anything in your eyes that may say that you don't want this but there was nothing but lust, a small whine leaving your lips at the loss of contact in your lips before leah's diving right back in.

the sound that had been blasting through the pub had now quieten to a mere hum as your focus was solely now on the girl in front of you.

her hands placed on the small on your back slightly pushing in to make your back arch as your chest pushed into her. as leah's hands soon made their way slowly to slide down you your ass as your tongues graze against each other.

"so pretty for me, my love" your heart jumps at her loving tone as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks, leah's words always having some sort of effect on you and always leaving you feeling flustered.

leah's eyes roam your figure as her hand traces absentmindedly, as if she planning her next attack on your body. the blonde noticing the way your breath hitched when her fingers sit on your pulse point on your neck.

leah rotating her hand so her fingers lie gently against it awaiting your reaction as she smirks watching as you squeeze your eyes shut, as your hands grip against the rim of the sink.

a small chuckle leaves leah's lips as she leans down to press her lips to your neck sucking harshly on your sweet spot. a string of little whimpers leave your pretty little lips as you tilt your head more to the side allowing leah to have more access.

"le, please do something" you beg, feeling her hand roam underneath your hoodie, grazing across your breasts.

"don't be impatient baby girl" she rasps against your ear, tugging down on it with her teeth as you feel your self squeeze your thighs together. hoping it will help you relieve some tension between her legs.

leah finally lifting your hoodie over your head as she throws to the ground of the pub bathroom. usually you would have felt embarrassed as you would feel your whole body want to cower aways but with leah, it felt different. it felt good, it felt right.

-

it was a typical saturday night, leah had her home match at the emirates on the sunday so she was taking advantage of her the small out of rest time she had. a small hum of the tv playing in the background as you watched it, but really all your mind could focus on was the fact leah’s fingers were combing through the ends of your hair.

you were lying wrapped in leah's arms on her couch as the tv played, leah focused on some insta reel on her phone. you head tucked on her chest as it heaved up and down, the wholesome of the interaction. it felt like it was meant to be — it felt real.

"le?" you whispered your head turning to look up at the blonde as a small hum left her lips, her phone lowering a little.

"where do you see yourself in a year?" you asked, it was something that played on your mind a lot, cause would you still be in some casual relationship with leah or would you have your own apartment and she’d show you off to her friends as something more.

you were more hoping for the second option, since the months had passed since you both promised out of breathe that there wouldn’t be any strings attached.

and boy oh boy had that changed, especially since your favourite bra lived in her dresser. it was pretty hard to be casual.

“cause maybe we’d be more and going on cute little dates in a cafe before you’d go off to training” you began as you sat up, you rambling on as your hands flew around with some enthusiasm making you miss the way leah’s face changed.

“and then when you come home i’d be there waiting, your dinner on the table-“ you paused as you looked down to see leah’s face, puzzled but also her eyes they told you a different emotion, not the same energy you had but it was sadness — more a sense of guilt.

“i- sorry i got ahead of myself” you mumbled as your back sunk into the back of her couch, the further side from her.

leah shook her head, and you were half expecting her to wrap you in a hug and kiss your cheek and tell you it was okay and that maybe she felt the same way.

but she didn’t.

"y/n, remember, we're not together-" leah cut straight to the point, her tone blunt as you felt your heart drop and your brows furrowing and a quickly developing pout spreading across your lips.

you let out a shaky breath as you nodded slowly, you understood. she had kept her side of the promise of no strings attached. “i- just thought maybe?” you said so quietly it only came out as a whisper as you fidgeted with your fingers.

looking up to see leah’s face it told you everything you needed to know. you’d only known the blonde for a several amount of months but you knew her well enough to know what her face was telling you without actually having to say the actual words.

“oh i get it” you scoffed slightly, choking back on the tears which pricked at your eyes. all it ever was going to be was casual.

leah’s opened her mouth but nothing came out as she sat herself up on the couch but before she could even attempt to reach out to you, you were up from the couch. slipping your shoes on your feet. you didn’t want to be in the same room as her.

“y/n- don’t” leah finally managed to get out as she followed your actions following you into her hallway which was littered with her football memorabilia from her glittering career. but you shook your head, her voice to painful to hear as you stopped with your back to her just before the front door.

"do you know what's actually quite funny-" you paused to let out a little chuckle as you stood mere metres from the door, as you looked up from your shoes spinning slightly so you faced her. leah stood her shoulders sunken as she tried to plead with you not to leave.

"i actually thought i meant something to you- but i guess that's just how little i actually meant to you" you sighed as tried to steady your breath, tears prickling at your eyes ready to fall at any moment.

"i- i was ready-" you paused as your words got stuck in your throat, leah reaching out for you as you took a step back. "i was ready to give you my everything" you admitted it coming out just a little louder than a whisper.

"y/n-"

“no leah, you’d made it clear how you feel” you spat out as you spun on your heal, leaving leah calling out your name but your ignored her, reaching for the door and hearing how it clicked shut behind you.

part of you was hoping she was going to rip her front door open and call after you and not stop until you were back in the warmth of her arms but the corridor in her apartment block was silent.

the other part of you hated yourself how long you had let it drag out for, but now you were free. she can go to hell.

stumbling through the street as your tears fell down your cheeks, tapping away at your phone until you found the contact you wanted, the dial drilling through your ear a few times before it got to voicemail.

you sighed as you heard the beep, "i cut her off, amelie."

[fictionismyreality3]

Flowers and First Dates

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, home invasions, allusions to violence

Notes: this is the longest fic I’ve written in so long and now my fingers hurt 😞

Whoever was crashing around in your store downstairs really wasn’t going to find much. It was 4am, and you had long since put away any profits for the day. Which is why it took your sleep drunk brain, eyelids heavy with a forgotten dream, to realize this was actually happening.

The sharp cracking of what you’d long since memorized to be the sound of a flower pot breaking stirred you out of your frozen terror.

Springing up from your bed, your flung the covers off in a panic, a jolt of sheer dread going down your spine when you heard a set of heavy, lumbering footsteps climbing the stairs that connected your flower shop to your flat. To you. Stumbling blindly in the dark, you pushed away the urge to turn your beside light on.

Somehow in your panic you had enough foresight to try and deceive your would-be thief into thinking you weren’t home. With shaky hands, you unlocked your phone, hitting the call button for one of your newest contacts without thought.

Price was happy for Kate. Really, he was. But the warmth and open love he saw in the eyes of her and her wife did nothing to stop the growing sour spot in his chest. And when they’d announced their plans to have a baby, even if it was just told to the small inner circle of the team, it dug the knife in John’s gut deeper.

Pushing open the door of the nearest place he could find to buy flowers, he brushed his shoes on the mat, fixing the collar of his coat in an attempt to pacify his gruff appearance.

The sound of the bell jingling brought your vision from the invoice book you were filling out.

"Hi, what can I help you with?"

Jesus fucking christ.

All the air got knocked out of Price's lungs, his mouth opening and closing as he stood there like a gaping fish. You were like a ray of sunshine. All bright smiles and dainty hands, elegant movements that he couldn't help but follow with his eyes.

And fuck, that sundress you were wearing, a pretty yellow that he was sure would be permanently burned into his eyelids. Yellow was his favourite colour now.

Running a hand over his beard, John let out a huff of air, a tortured feeling screwing itself deeper into his chest. There were posies or some shit dotted along the fabric of your dress, the dress that had his hands twitching at his side as he itched to rip it off of you. He almost forgot he was supposed to be looking at flowers for Kate, not at the flowers covering your pretty little-

"Is there something in particular you're looking for, sir?"

Sir, sir, sir, sir, sir, sir, sir-

Trying not to look like a creep, John cleared his throat, a sheepish smile on his face. "Just lookin' for some flowers for a collegue of mine, luv."

Luv, luv, luv, luv, luv, luv-

Plastering on a polite smile in an attempt to hide how your cheeks were heating up in a blush, you stepped out from around the counter, brushing the dirt off your hands. Helping him search for the right combination, you plucked out some myrtle, yellow roses, and daffodils. As you placed each one in the vase, you went over the meanings, unaware of John's intent gaze on your face.

He had no clue what a begonia was but god did he like hearing you talk.

By the time you were done putting together the bouquet, John seemed unable to wipe the smile off his face, his eyes on you the entire time. It was only when you started ringing up his total that he realized this interaction would remained entirely transactional unless he did something about it.

"Say, luv, y'got a lad waiting for you at home?" It was blunt, but he figured it better to rip the bandaid off, spare him the torture.

Your hand stilled over the buttons of the register. "Uh, no. I don't." A nervous chuckled burbled out of your mouth, cutting through the air.

"Y'want one?"

Shit.

The words seemed to catch in the air, lingering tauntingly between the two of you as Price kicked himself for not keeping a better hold on his tongue. Sparks of uncertantity fluttered in your chest. The piercing blue eyes staring back at you gave no relief, especially when they held just as much embarrassment as yours.

"Are you-"

"Do you want-"

Both of you spoke at the same time, John lowering his head and huffing out a chuckle. He cleared his throat, looking at the way your pretty face was heating up in a blush. He could ask a girl on a date. He'd done harder things. But with the way his tongue felt like lead in his mouth, it seemed a miracle he got any words out at all.

"Look, sweetheart." He sucked his teeth, eyes darting to where you were white-knuckling the counter.

"Y'seem like a lovely girl. And I'd love to.." Why was he sweating like a teenaged boy?

"Do you want my number?"

Sucking in a breath, John met your eyes with a sheepish smile. For such a soft looking thing, you had more guts than most of his rookies.

He left your shop with a bouquet and a smile.

They were fiddling with the doorknob to your apartment now. The jangling of the metal stabbed another bolt of fear in your chest. You couldn't get to the bathroom to hide. It was across the hall and you weren't really in the mood to dart out and get spotted.

The dial tone kept rumbling through the speaker of your phone. You checked the lock on your bedroom door again.

John's head was pounding, the scent of cigarettes, rum and cheap beer punching him in his throat. With a groan, he sat up and ran a hand over his beard, the sound of his phone ringing cutting through his grogginess.

"Hmm? Wha' is it?"

A sigh of relief whooshed out of your lungs, but when you went to take a breath again, all that came out was this tortured choking noise.

Eyes darting to the time, Price glanced around the rec room at his team's sleeping forms. Nobody had his phone number aside from the people he trusted, and they were all passed out in various states of drunkenness.

"Who is this?"

His voice was raspy, weathered by his constant cigar smoking. You latched on to the sound. "J-John?"

Jolting upright, Price snapped wide-awake at your panicked tone, getting up and kicking Ghost's leg to wake him up. He was already grabbing his beat-up flannel, mind running through possibilities and reasons for your distressed voice.

"What's goin' on, luv? Talk to me."

Your lip wobbled, eyes catching on the doorknob of the closet you'd locked yourself in. You could hear them in your apartment now, drawers opening and closing as they rustled around in your kitchen.

"There's someone in my h-house."

Price grabbed the keys to his truck, molten anger beginning to bubble in the center of his chest as he let out a curse. Ghost was the first to rouse, eyes snapping open in an automatic response of hypervigilance. Spotting his captain already walking out of the door, he shook Soap and Gaz awake.

"Wha'? Was try-"

"Get the fuck up, Johnny. Something's wrong."

John didn't have to look back to know his men were follwing him as he stormed through the halls of base and out to the parking lot. He didn't have to bat an eye as he tossed Gaz the keys and barked an adress at him, not bothering to explain to you how he knew where you lived.

"John? I can hear them g-getting closer." You squeaked out, picking a a hangnail to focus on anything else.

"Luv, I need y'to listen to me, alright?"

"Alright."

Gaz started the truck, pulling onto the empty 4am roads. "Take a breath for me, sweethear'.' Your lungs sucked in air regardless of your panic. "Y'somewhere with a locked door?"

"I... I locked myself in my closet."

The sniffle in your voice tore through his heart, his fists already clenching as he thought about getting his hands on whoever was stupid enough to cause you distress. "Good girl."

Gaz shot him a look.

"Jus' keep talkin' to me, yeah?"

"Please don't hang up."

Something fell with a loud crash, a whimper caught in your throat as you pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle your sobs. You could hear them getting closer and closer and soon they would-

"Darlin'?" A whiney noise came out of you. "Breathe f'me, luvie."

"John-"

Barking at Gaz to drive faster, Price countined to mutter praises into his phone, trying to keep you talking and out of the spiral of panic he could hear you slipping into.

"Ken y'tell us what's goin' on, Cap?" Soap was the only one still a little too sloshed to have put the pieces together. That, and he was a little dense sometimes.

"Someone's in my girl's house."

Johnny didn't crack a joke like he wanted to, closing his jaw that wanted to hang open as he caught the tightly contained venom in his captain's voice when he pushed Gaz to drive faster, faster. None of them had to ask for instruction. This was their captain's girl, even if they hadn't known she existed. This was personal.

Gaz shortened the 20 minute drive into 5. He could deal with the ticket later.

You were crying now, hot tears running down your cheeks as you tried to keep yourself as quiet as possible. Heavy boots stomped closer to your room. Someone was trying the doorknob. John was still talking, his husky voice running into your ear, but you couldn't hear him anymore. Not really.

You were too focused on the sound of glass shattering, a small part of you wondering if your favourite mug would survive all this. There had to be at least two people, that much you were sure of with the way the footsteps seemed to split, each pair going off to cause their own path of destruction.

"Someone's banging on my door!" You gasped, tucking your knees up to your chest. "Oh, god. John they're gonna-"

A low groan of agony morphed into a cry of anger, splitting the air. Your fear muddled mind desperately tried to catch up. They were fighting each other. Why would the theives be fighting each other?

A soft knock on your bedroom door tore you from your spiral, gentle, but loud enough for you to hear it even where you were hiding in the closet.

Blinking, the sound of John's voice brought your attention back to your phone.

"What?"

"I'm here, luvie."

What?

"Open the door, sweetheart."

"But.. but I.. you don't.." Your mouth felt dry, the words stuck like sandpaper on your tongue.

"Open the door, sweetie. Let m'see you're safe." With wooden joints, you pushed yourself off the floor of your closet, walking robotically towards the door of your bedroom. The doorknob sat mockingly.

"What if they're still there? What if they-" He cut you off with a soft shushing noise. "You trust me, yeah?" You couldn't hear the crashing or banging anymore.

"..yes." You whispered.

"Open the door."

Shaking, your fingers met the cool metal of the doorknob. You hit the lock, and before you could swing the door the rest of the way open, John was pushing his way into your room. Walking by you, he starting scanning around all while you stood there dumbfounded. Tears still drying on your face, you watched in rapt confusion as he checked the closet you were just hiding in, moving to the window and pulling back the curtain to look outside.

"John?"

Oh, you poor, sweet girl.

He pushed urge to rip the heads off the men who Ghost and Soap were now tying up in your living to the back-burner, crossing the room in two long strides. He didn't wait to take you in his arms, pulling you flush to his chest and tucking your head under his chin.

John smelt of cigars, woody and strong, the tinge of gunpowder that seemed to linger on him caused you to wrinkle your nose. His arms were around you and he kept a hand on the back of your head, preventing you from looking anywhere but his broad chest and just like that you were crying again.

"Shh.." He cooed. "I know, I know, sweetheart."

God, he hated this. Just a week. All it took was just a week and getting your phone number for you to get caught up in the messy world of his work. There was no doubt in his mind that the men who'd attempted to ransack your apartment were part of the group Laswell had the 141 hunting for the last few months. The tattoos on their hands confirming his suspiscions.

But, he didn't give a fuck about work or unraveling how they'd got close enough to find you through a phone number he got on a stroke of luck. Letting out a heavy breath, he stroked the softness of your hair, almost to reassure himself that you were safe.

"M'gonna take you with me, yeah?" With bleary eyes you looked up at him, all sniffles and sugar and he was just about ready to go stop Ghost and have a chat with the men who'd-

"I'm still... I'm still in my pajamas." Your voice was airy, trembling, something that John had seen all too well in shocked civilans. "My clothes... my.. my.." You couldn't seem to think about anything aside from how you were wearing your pajamas, your mind forcefully ignoring the state of your apartment and everything that just happened.

"S'okay, sweet girl." Glancing down at the state of you, John felt a pang in his chest. You were wearing an old t-shirt and some sleep pants with little bunnies printed on them. "Let's get you out of here, yeah?"

Opening your mouth, you tried to respond, but all you could muster was a noise of agreement.

"Jus' look at me, yeah?" Steering you out of your bedroom, John kept your shaking frame tucked carefully into his size, holding your gaze with a hand on your cheek.

"Eyes on me."

He wouldn't let you see the state of your apartment, the glass and broken furniture littering the floor.

Wrapping his flannel around you, Price drew your attention with a poorly executed joke, keeping you from seeing the bloody and battered bodies Soap and Ghost were cleaning up.

As you got to the bottom of the stairs and outside, you passed by a man with a friendly looking smile and worn baseball cap.

"M'takin her. Call Kate and let 'er know 'bout the situation. She'll send you a car."

"Right, sir."

You didn't argue when he guided you into the passenger seat of a red truck, buckling you in and going over to the driver's seat himself. You didn't argue as he started the engine, pulling onto the road and taking you somewhere else. He kept a hand on your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing soothing circles onto your skin.

Through the thick haze of your tears, you found your voice.

"Hell of a first date, huh?"

[winwintea]

dreamies meeting their kid for the first time + as a parent

GROUP ↬ ot7 dream x reader (ft. their child)

TAGS/WARNINGS ↬ some angst, LOTS OF FLUFF MY TOOTH IS LITERALLY ROTTING, spider-mark agenda is real, the child is sometimes a cockblock, haechan does some weird michael jackson-sherlock holmes roleplay idk it made sense in my head, jaemin going on shopping sprees, chenle never loses, ji... is ji.... (poor baby)

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ everyone say thank you to @https-lvesick for getting me on that baby fever stuff... like i hate children but i love children. iykwim... anyways this is meeting their kid for the first time, but i can't come up with reasons why they were separated so you fill in the blanks. probably angsty reasons i love angst.

Mark Lee

when you come back through that door with a child holding your hand, it’s him you meet first again, and the tears are already glossing his eyes over before you can say anything.

literally has no words when you smile at him gently, saying it’s his.

mark swallows nervously, before making his way to the both of you, holding the two of you in his arms for only god knows how long.

“i.. can’t wait to live my life with you both, my love,” he mumbles into your hair, ears slightly tinged, only causing you to laugh at his adorable antics.

as a father, he isn’t very strict, and he isn’t all that good in child-rearing, either.

but he tries! give him some slack — you have to keep reminding yourself of this when you see your child holding a sword?! 

and of course mark was in his halloween costume. typical.

“baby.. i can explain,” mark says calmly when you first find the two of them

well actually, three; it seems haechan was in on this little practice, though he quickly bolted when he saw you. good strategy.

“엄마, papa said he was iron man! he teached me how to be a superhero!” your child exclaims, flailing the sword around excitedly as your gaze only darkens.

“well, you see, i meant spider-man, but—” his words die down when he sees your unimpressed face practically dripping with murderous intent.

mark slowly kneels down to whisper something you couldn't make out to your child. the little one nods seriously, slowly putting down the weapon.

then, as seconds pass, mark immediately hoists your child up in his arms, running out of the room as both his laughter and your child’s squeals echo throughout the halls.

“mark min-hyung lee, you are so dead!” you scream, running after them.

“3, 2, 1 — I COULD DO THIS ALL DAY!” the two of them scream back, before bursting into laughter. they’re always in sync. It’s exasperating.

but you love it anyways

Huang Renjun

when you meet him at the door, there's a flurry of emotions clear on renjun's face, but his smile says it all.

“is it too much to say i’ve been waiting for you this whole time?”

regrets the fact that he wasn’t able to be a part of his child’s life for the first few years, literally becomes wrapped around your little one’s finger because of it.

so adorable and happy that he’s blessed with your lovely child, always smiling when he thinks of them.

literally makes the other members question whether or not they want a child too.

bonding time is painting of course!

usually ends up with all three of you cramped in the shower, you scrubbing furiously at the sticky paint on their skin.

“i’m sorry for having you do this all the time,” renjun's soft voice makes you forget why you were mad in the first place tbh.

massages your shoulders from behind you, causing your fingers to halt in their journey of rubbing some stubborn blue paint off your child.

“it’ll take more than that if you wanna make it up to me,” you hum, leaning back into his chest and gazing into his eyes.

your lips were just about to meet, when —

“ma, i'm not clean yet!”

damn. cockblocked by your own child.

you groan, renjun laughing as he picks up the pouting child with their arms crossed.

“don’t give 妈妈 too much of a hard time, okay?” he never forgets to take care of you above all.

Lee Jeno

when you walk through that door once more, nervously telling jeno that this child is his, you’re afraid of his reaction.

and when you finally gather the courage to do it? his jaw drops and he can’t stop staring at you nor the child and you have to help him sit and calm down.

“아빠?” your child asks, staring up at the still slightly panicked jeno as you hold your breath.

he stares for a moment, mouth wide, before finally, finally smiling, albeit a little awkward and rough around the edges. “yes, little one?”

very new to this whole parenting thing and can barely do anything without asking you first, so he feels bad quite often for having to lean on you so much.

plus he barely knows how to handle a sobbing child, nor can he entertain the child very well,

but you find that the both of them are quite content in each other’s presence as is. so that's a plus !

you'll usually find them in jeno's room together, while you need jeno to watch your child while you go out for an errand or something.

but when you see jeno, well, he starts to look ethereal as the sun shines through the windows in his room.

then, a gentle smile gracing his face as he stares at his sleeping child.

jeno utters your name, causing you to look up, only to find him tracing circles around your child’s soft skin. “딸,” he rasps out, cracking a bleary eye open and gripping their wrist softly. Then, he smiles, all sorts of soft and lovely and.. unguarded.

“You two.. are the best things that have happened to me.”

Lee Donghyuck

haechan tries swallowing back the lump in his throat when he sees you standing in front of that damned door, though to no avail as a tear slips.

starts full-on crying when you say that you’re back for good and that the child is his. it's okay, let it out hyuck. <3

“ah, crying like that on our first meeting… don’t you think your fath — i’m a bit embarrassing?” he asks, sniffling as he tries to muster a smile through his tears.

your child giggles, eyes crinkling while grinning. “no! mommy told me a whooooole lot about you, daddy!”

you have to intervene at this point to stop him from sobbing again.

haechan wastes no time in making up for what he’s missed, so he's definitely going to spoil this child every second that he can.

you’d always find the two of them either going out shopping or messing about at home

also probably just chilling in the comforts of his room, doing god knows what.

one day you were curious, so you peeked through a tiny crack of the open door.

genuinely concerned at what you saw.

was that a... trenchcoat on your child? the two of them were engaged in conversation as haechan started nodding with a serious look on his face.

“so, mj, do you think waffles make mummy happier?” your child asks, holding his magnifying glass up like a mic in front of haechan's face.

mj???

haechan strokes his chin for a moment, before answering, “seeing her reaction when we gave her the ones we bought yesterday, i dee-hee duce they do, sherlock!”

sherlock...?

“good deduck – deduction, mj! i thought so too.”

you can't help but snort as haechan grabs his crotch and poses while high fiving your child.

as stupid as this was, your heart literally melts. the two are far too cute for you, you having to calm yourself before walking in with the widest smile on your face. dorks. 

Na Jaemin

“i was hoping you’d be back, my dear.” his perfunctory smile is so smug that sometimes you just want to punch him in the face. “with a lovely little thing in hand.”

“Your lovely little thing,” you say gently, trying to ignore your anger. you were here to show your child to jaemin. jaemin looks at the two of you with surprise, the curves of his mouth inching upwards.

hey jaemin wasn't trying to be possessive... cause that's weird. but the way you emphasized the word 'your' made his breath hitch. we can unpack that later though.

for now, na jaemin is a certified sugar daddy

jaemin is wrapped around the little one’s finger, his rotten spoiling being the effect of not being in your child’s life for a good while, and, of course, his indispensable regret for having you come back to him.

you asked jeno the whereabouts of your lover and your child, only for him to give you the look, responding that they were out yet again, and are probably not coming back without a few shopping bags in hand.

okay something needed to be done about this. so you decided to conduct a harmless experiment.

placing a few coins on one side of his desk, a toy in the middle, and a beloved fruit on the side. after explaining to him that it’s to see what your child’s fate would be — picking between fortune, fun, and, well, snacks, you think — he simply leans back, interest shining in those eyes of his.

but your child pushes all these away in a second, opting to hug the wide-eyed man on the soft armchair behind the desk.

“and what.. does this mean, ma chérie?” fuck him and the words he's picked up from traveling abroad. but jaemin looked honestly confused as his hands slowly wrap around your child’s.

you smile softly, “isn’t it obvious, silly? the little rascal loves you more than anything.”

he laughs. he doesn't get it. preparing for yet another shopping spree. why do you even try at this point?

Zhong Chenle

oh my god. when he first sees you after years with a child, his child, grasping your hand, chenle has to literally take a quick second to calm down cause he’s so angry.

no, not at you, of course, he would never. but at himself.

he wasn’t there for his child, for you, and god, even if he were, would he have been a good father?

“Y/ — 甜心,” he starts, running his fingers through his already messy bed-head hair and staring at you with eyes that practically scream "please hug me, i'm insecure"

“how am i supposed to take care of a child when i couldn’t even take care of you?”

but don't worry, after many reassuring words and warm hugs, chenle's finally okay and back to his normal self, holding your child up and giggling.

maybe this was a wrong idea cause now you have to take care of a manchild and a child.

is surprisingly very gentle with your child because he honestly doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. (just because he has a nephew does not mean he knows how to parent a child.)

also very grounded and doesn’t fall for cute little tricks as much, so out of the dreamies, he’d end up becoming one of the better fathers.

also cause he never loses. and no way is he gonna lose an argument with a child.

“不行。” “爸爸, pleaaase?” “no. 不可以。”

chenle seemed to be holding a chocolate bar high above his head, steely gaze fixed on your young child trying to ignore their pleading puppy dog eyes.

“妈妈说 no chocolate, right?” your heart warms when you realize he remembered you scolding your child yesterday, though you can’t help but to feel a little bad.

“chenle,” you say, both their heads turning towards you. “how about you give the little baby some chocolate and we can eat the eggs i just made in the kitchen?”

the way both their eyes shine almost identically is so fucking adorable.

Park Jisung

??!?>!?!>?>!?@#?>(*#(@*(*#!?!@?

“that’s… mine??” “what?” “… it?” “it?” “the.. child?”

actually malfunctions.

jisung is very flustered, for lack of better terms. he was always considered the baby maknae of dream, but his own child? lord, help him.

you... him.... the baby... it or they.. came out of you??? what.

gets awfully flushed whenever he’s carrying his child around the building. everyone tries to stop and coo at the baby, + chenle and haechan have decided to make his life a living hell cracking up jokes whenever they can.

jisung is surprisingly good at getting your chaotic child to sleep with his bedtime stories, which are usually all his big yap sessions.

“and did daddy get that bruise on his forehead because he slipped while chasing uncle chenle and uncle haechan?” you question the two of them, wondering what they had been talking about earlier.

your child nods, bright eyes sparkling and grinning, “아빠 also said, ‘get back here, you devilish imbeciles!’”

oh fuck.

your accusatory gaze turns towards jisung, who averts his eyes, holding an ice pack to his bruising forehead, trying to shield himself from possibly getting more bruises.

“i-in my defense, they were—”

“one more time, park jisung, and i’m changing their legal godfathers to the two imbeciles you love and appreciate so so much.”

his eyes widen in shock, “you wouldn’t.”

“try me.”

now jisung is a grumbling mess when the two idiots are around his child, but the lack of chasing them around can be counted as an upgrade, i guess.

TAGLIST ↬  @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @ldh0000 @galacticnct @peterm4rker

[xo-hoon]

25 Days Later — p.sh

Continuation of 25 Days Later

pairing: ethical serial dater!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, fake to real relationship trope

synopsis: For Park Sunghoon, relationships should remain uncomplicated. With life already filled with complexities, he believes that dating should only last for twenty-five days—just enough time to enjoy each other's company before parting ways. And there’s Yoon Y/n, who was driven by her curiosity rather than romance, finds herself intrigued by Sunghoon's unconventional plan, prompting her to join him for these twenty-five days. Yet, beneath their playful interactions, an unpredictable tension hints that things may not be as simple as they appear.

word count: 4k

warnings: EXTREME FLUFF! hoon’s a sweet heart (i’m goona cry), mentions of accidents, someone died, hoon being jealous, very very very slight angst. Grammatical and typographical errors ahead!

a/n: It’s finally done! I had a lot of troubles writing this fanfic and experienced many, MANY (MANY) breakdowns throughout the process, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

I really really hope that ya’ll would enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. 🫶🏻

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS WOULD BE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!

here you go, bae @zara2318 🧎🏻‍♀️

Day 25

If Jake and the others were to see him now, they'd probably laugh. He was hardly recognizable as the Park Sunghoon they knew. The old him wouldn't have bothered chasing after a woman who clearly didn't want him anymore. But he couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't that simple for you to break things off.

Fine, maybe he was being arrogant. But you had shared something special with him.

Why would you do that if he meant nothing to you?

No, he refused to believe that what happened between you two was just a fleeting moment brought on by the storm.

And you weren't the type to take such a bold step without good reason. You weren't someone who'd make such a move lightly. He couldn't accept that he was just a passing fascination, a curiosity you explored only to move on to the next person. No, it wasn't that shallow.

Alright, maybe it was just his pride speaking, but he wasn't ready to let go. Not yet.

Today, he planned to convince you to give things another chance.

He just hoped you'd agree.

His brow furrowed as he spotted a black sedan parked in front of your house. Slowly, he pulled up beside the unfamiliar car and got out.

Just then, he saw you coming out, laughing with Jiwon, who was following behind. Your smile faded the moment you noticed him, and for a brief second, silence filled the air.

"Hey, man," Jiwon finally broke the tension. "How's it going?"

Fuck off.

He could've said that. But he didn't and just glanced at him briefly and gave him a nod, and then looked back at you.

"Are you heading somewhere?" he asked, despite his racing heart.

"I'm just walking Jiwon to his car."

Sunghoon nodded. "I'll wait for you."

"Ah, I actually have a client waiting on the other side," you explained, referring to the funeral home.

Your voice and gaze pleaded with him.

"Just a quick chat. Five minutes maximum, please,”Sunghoon urged, watching as you considered.

"Alright," you finally agreed. "I'll just walk Jiwon to his car."

"Catch you later, man," Jiwon said, giving a friendly nod.

Sunghoon didn't go inside. Instead, he waited by the door, observing your interaction with Jiwon. He couldn't hear what you were saying, but he saw you laugh at something, and a pang of jealousy hit him.

Why was it so hard for him to see you happy with someone else?

His fists clenched and his jaw tightened when he saw Jiwon give you a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek before getting into his car. You stood there, watching as he drove off. Sunghoon took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He knew he had no right to feel jealous and needed to get his emotions under control.

You turned to him at last. "Let's go inside," you said, leading him in.

"I thought we already cleared things up yesterday?" Your face was expressionless, the opposite of how you'd looked while talking to Jiwon, and that irritated him even more.

"So, is he the one you're replacing me with?" he asked, his voice tense.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "And you knowing the answer to that question is important because?"

Sunghoon swallowed hard. "Y/n, I want another chance." You raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. "I believe what we had was something special. You're definitely not like the other girls I've dated."

You crossed your arms. "And?"

"And you said you appreciated honesty. If you're truly being honest with yourself, you’d recognize that what we had was unique."

"Can you just get to the point?" you said, your impatience showing as you glanced at your watch. "I have a client waiting."

Under different circumstances, you might have laughed at the idea of your so called ‘client’ really waiting for you as if it would grow frustrated when you took too long. But he seemed anxious about it and his words spilled out. "I want another shot. Another twenty-five days with you." You paused, staring at him, before letting out a soft, humorless laugh, your eyes starting to water.

"You really are a hopeless case, Park Sunghoon." You looked down, discreetly wiping your eyes. "Just go home. I need to get back to work."

He reached out to grab your hand, trying to stop you from leaving. "Wait, you haven’t given me your answer yet."

"Seriously?" You rubbed your face in exasperation, then you locked eyes with him, tears welling up. "No, Sunghoon. My answer is no. And please, stop coming back here." You stormed out, slamming the door behind you.

You were still feeling down while working on the body of a forty-two-year-old woman who had died from bone cancer. She had implants in her breasts and buttocks that needed to be removed, making the task labor-intensive, which was fine with you. You preferred to stay busy at that moment rather than let your mind wander back to Sunghoon. You were irritated enough as it was.

You sang along to an Ariana Grande song while your hands were busy dressing the body in a white gown.

"Leave that, Y/n," your mother said as she entered the preparation room. It seemed she was going to take care of the remains of a child who had died in a car accident. "Sunghoon is waiting for you at home."

Your expression soured further, and you continued working. You started applying makeup to your client’s face. "You could have just sent him home. We talked earlier, and there's nothing left to discuss."

"Is there a problem between you two?" She began gathering supplies to clean the body.

"I don’t know about him," you replied.

"Have I mentioned that he’s been here almost every day for the past few days?" she said. "He says you aren’t answering his calls or texts. He’s really worried about you."

You grimaced at the mental image of him. "He probably can’t accept that I broke up with him before our twenty-five days were up."

"Why did you break up so quickly, anyway? Didn’t you enjoy his company?"

You sighed and adjusted the skirt of the body. "Mom, can we talk about this later? I feel like it’s disrespectful to our clients to gossip about that jerk."

Your mother chuckled softly. "Alright, we’ll talk later. I just need to finish this up."

After a few minutes, you completed your task. "I’ll be in the office," you said before leaving her in the preparation room. You tidied yourself up and headed to your mother’s office, only to find your father there.

"Oh, too bad. Sunghoon just left."

You secretly frowned. You thought you would need to wait over an hour before facing the conversation about him. Apparently, you didn’t need to wait for your mother to finish after all; here was yet another person ready to pry.

“We already talked,” you said while booting up your laptop, hoping that if you acted busy, your dad wouldn’t ask too many questions.

After a brief silence, you glanced over at him. You met his intense gaze, as if he were scrutinizing you.

“What?” you asked, a bit anxious.

He smiled. “I always say that ‘life is short’ is the most valuable lesson we learn from this business. But there’s something even more significant.”

Ah, yes. You found this kind of discussion preferable. You would rather engage with a philosophical funeral director than a curious father.

“What’s the more important lesson?” you inquired.

“For me, realizing that life is short has taught me not to hold back my feelings. It’s vital for me to express my love for you all. I don’t want to look back with regret for not telling you how much you matter to me.”

You had heard this from him countless times before, but it was alright—even if it was repetitive, as long as the conversation didn’t veer towards the guy you dated for twenty-five days.

You nod to keep the conversation going. “Your mom, since life is short, prioritizes the eternal life in heaven, which is why she's religious.” He smiled. “Daehi enjoys his life and pursues her dreams because she understands her time is limited.” You shrug. “We’re both the same.”

Your father shakes his head. “That’s not all you’ve learned.” He moves closer to you. “You’re hesitant to commit fully to anything—a job, a person—because you fear you’ll be miserable when they’re gone.”

You blinked, feeling a lump in your throat. Clearing your throat, you joked, “Dad, why didn’t you tell us you took Psychology class?”

“I think this explains why you often change jobs, courses, and interests; you’re reluctant to fully commit to just one. Why didn’t you feel pain when your relationships ended, Y/n? Was it because you didn’t really love them? You never allowed yourself to get attached because, deep down, you believed they would leave you eventually.”

The memory of your first client on the embalming table surfaces, the mother in tears over the dreams that were lost with the death of her eldest child.

But what stuck in your mind was the image of the deceased man's girlfriend, nearly beside herself with grief. Misery shone in her eyes. You later learned that she was pregnant at the time. You didn’t want to experience that kind of pain. If love could end like that, you wanted no part of it.

Your eyes burned with emotion. “Isn’t it natural for anyone to avoid pain, Dad? It’s survival of the fittest, right?”

Your father stepped closer and gently stroked your hair. “But living without love isn’t really living at all, my child. And pain is a part of love. We must accept that.”

Well, all your reservations about loving seemed pointless now. Despite your previous reluctance to love fully, it happened anyway. You fell in love.

While you were busy enjoying your dates and casual conversations, you were completely unaware that the man had already took your heart. The irony was that you, who feared falling in love, ended up in love with someone who couldn’t truly love back. For Sunghoon, relationships lasted only twenty-five days; after that, all feelings expired, and it was time to move on to the next.

That was just how it was.

That's why you avoided the guy; you realized you were already in love with him. You couldn’t even bear to imagine a line of people like Yuri waiting to catch Sunghoon after your breakup. The thought of him with someone else was unbearable.

And now, it was happening—the very thing you feared: getting hurt.

Ah, damn it. This was all Sunghoon’s fault!

Is it possible to un-fall for someone? If only it were that easy.

Day 26

He roughly ran his hands over his face, even tugging at his hair in frustration. "Fuck! Is karma getting back at me?"

He looked up, staring blankly at the ceiling as he recalled Y/n's beautiful face-the sweet smile, the lively laugh, the softness of her hair, the smoothness of her skin, and that night…

After that, he remembered what you looked like the last time you spoke—how you held back your tears, the sadness in your eyes, and the words you said that pierced his heart...

"You really are a hopeless case, Park Sunghoon. Just go home. I need to get back to work."

"No, Sunghoon. My answer is no. And please, stop coming back here."

Why is he such a mess?

"I want another shot. Another twenty-five days with you."

That’s what he requested from you...

Who would be pleased with that!?

He’s such an idiot! That’s not what he truly wants from you. He doesn’t want just twenty-five days; he wants twenty-five thousand days with you. Or even better, twenty-five thousand lifetimes with you.

It seems he’s finally discovered a love similar to that of his parents.

Sunghoon no longer cares about what his friends think. He’s ready to admit to anyone that he’s given in and can’t make any more excuses: he loves you wholeheartedly.

He chuckles at himself now. Why was it so difficult to accept that before? Is there anything wrong with falling in love with a beautiful, kind, and intelligent woman?

Speaking of you, he needs to talk to you and share his feelings before you completely turn away and choose a conceited lawyer instead.

He saved his work and shut down his computer. He quickly took a shower and got dressed. And within minutes, he was driving. If he could, he would push his car to the limit just to reach you faster.

He was eager to see you.

He was almost there. The sign for Yoon’s Funeral Service was in view, and he was about to see the woman he missed so much.

He pressed the gas pedal harder, lost in thoughts of her, when suddenly a motorcycle cut in from the side. Sunghoon swerved to avoid it, but a streetlight appeared in front of him. Before he could react again, his car crashed into it. A loud crash filled his ears as he lost consciousness.

—

You wouldn’t have noticed that you were staring at the picture of you and Sunghoon on your phone if you hadn’t heard Daehi calling out to you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, immediately feeling anxious at the sight of your sister entering your room.

“Sunghoon had an accident, just down the street. He’s in our morgue right now, he—“

It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over you.

You weren’t able to let Daehi continue what she was saying as you screamed and rushed down to the funeral home below, nearly tripping in your haste, barely able to see the path through your tear-filled eyes.

This was the nightmare you had feared for all these years.

You didn’t bother putting on a mask or coat; you just ran to the preparation room. There was indeed someone on the embalming table, covered with a white sheet stained with a lot of blood.

You froze near the door and broke down in tears.

A fellow mortician was preparing instruments at the sink on one side of the room and glanced over at you.

“Y/n?” they called out.

You forced yourself to speak. “Just… just give me five minutes, please, Chae.” The employee looked puzzled, but you didn’t notice due to the pain overwhelming you. “Okay, sure?” Chae replied before leaving you alone.

You stepped closer to the body. “You idiot! Damn you, Sunghoon! You made me fall in love with you, and now you’re just gonna leave me!? Again?! You didn’t even give me a chance to tell you I love you…” Despite your trembling knees, you approached the corpse, wanting to see Sunghoon one last time. Taking a deep breath, you slowly pulled back the white sheet.

Your tears hung suspended in the air as you took in the sight of the cadaver: dark skin, a crooked nose, a large face, and a scar on one cheek.

“Y/n?” you heard a familiar voice call out.

You turned and saw Sunghoon standing in the doorway. He had bandages on the side of his forehead and one cheek, looking at you in surprise.

You redirected your gaze back to the body before looking at the young man again. “This isn’t you.”

“It’s not,” he responded.

Daehi suddenly appeared next to him, chuckling as she scratched his head. “That’s what I was trying to tell you, right? I was saying that Sunghoon got into an accident and is in the morgue because he wanted to help.”

You stared at your sister in shock for a moment. When you finally understood what had happened, your legs gave way beneath you.

God, forgive me for all the sins I’ve committed….

You felt the urge to blame her for the emotional chaos she caused you, but she wasn’t at fault. That was what your sister had meant to say, but you hadn’t allowed her to finish. So, it was partly your fault.

You glared at Daehi. “Why do you always have to make your sentences so unclear? You made me panic.” You wiped your tears and tried to regain your composure.

You walked out of the preparation room, brushing past the two by the door.

You ran into Chae, who seemed ready to start embalming the body you had mistaken for Sunghoon. She looked at you in surprise, likely noticing your puffy eyes and red nose, but she didn’t say anything.

“Thanks, Chae,” you managed to say as you continued outside. You intended to go home, lock yourself in your room, and just like your sister had suggested, you wanted to cry properly.

But you didn’t even make it to the entrance of the funeral parlor. You were still in the casket showroom when someone grabbed your arm.

“Hey,” Sunghoon greeted you as you turned around.

A surge of emotions hit you all at once—relief that he wasn’t actually dead, embarrassment, sadness, fear…

But you let your annoyance be the only thing he saw.

“What?” you snapped, irritated both from the embarrassment and from realizing how much you actually love him.

A faint smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth, and you noticed for the first time the dried blood on it.

“I’m giving you the chance to say everything you wanted to say to me. That way, when I really do die, you won’t have any regrets—Ow!” He flinched as you punched him in the shoulder.

“You’re so annoying!” you shouted, hitting him repeatedly.

Sunghoon caught hold of your arms to stop you “Come on, have some mercy. I just got out of an accident. I’ll probably have more bruises from you than from the crash.”

You felt a bit sorry for him, but you kept up your glare as he looked ready to burst out laughing at any second. “And you still had the audacity to joke around? Do you think this is funny? I nearly had a heart attack earlier, you jerk!”

Sunghoon pulled you into a hug, and you couldn’t help but relax, surrendering to the warmth of his embrace. "I'm so, so sorry, Y/n. We never meant to scare you," he said softly.

You started to cry against his chest. But this time, it was a tears of pure relief. He held you close, then gently kissed the top of your head. And just like that, all your hurt seemed to dissolve. It felt almost magical.

He raised his hand in a gesture of apology. "I’m really sorry. Scaring you was never our intention."

You reached up, lightly touching the bandage near his eyebrow. "What happened? How did you end up in an accident?"

"I was hurrying to get here," he said. "But don’t get me wrong, I was careful—until a motorbike suddenly cut me off. I swerved to avoid him but ended up crashing into a pole. Luckily, the airbag deployed, so I only got a few scrapes. And guy on the motorbike made it past me safely," he went on. "But he was being reckless, and he ended up cutting off another vehicle. This time, he got hit by a bus."

You closed your eyes, silently praying for the soul of the person left in the morgue, while also thanking the heavens for Sunghoon’s safety. You didn’t even want to think about what you would have done if he hadn’t made it.

"I… I was so scared," you whispered, voice shaky. "I thought… I thought you were gone."

He hugged you tighter, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. Looking up, you saw Sunghoon’s eyes were closed, as if he was savoring having you in his arms. A warm, sweet feeling filled your chest.

"I’ve been dying to do this again; dying to be with you again," Sunghoon whispered, his voice soft and intimate. His eyes opened, and his gaze seemed to pierce right through to your soul. "Why did you suddenly go to Jeju?" he asked, a hint of sulk in his voice.

"I couldn’t say no. It was Jiwon’s sister’s birthday celebration, and she’s my friend, too. Plus, I thought I needed some space to think about us. But I promise, I already turned Jiwon down. Again."

"Good." He smiled. "For days now, my mind’s been filled with nothing but Y/n, Y/n, Y/n. Honestly, I got scared—I thought I was going crazy."

A smile crept onto your face. "Oh? Haven’t you always been a bit crazy?"

"Only for you." He reached out and gently brushed your cheek.

"I’m sorry. The words that came out of my mouth yesterday were wrong. I didn’t mean that I wanted just another twenty-five days with you; I want twenty-five lifetimes with you, Y/n. I love you."

You could only stare into his handsome face, his eyes shimmering with sincerity. There was no way you could say no to him.

"I’d like that, too. Twenty-five lifetimes with you," you replied, making him smile.

"Hold on." He kissed the top of your head before pulling away, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

"What’s that for?" you asked, a bit confused.

He started typing on his phone. "I have a letter here that I meant to read to you yesterday. But when I got so annoyed when I saw you with that Jiwon guy that I completely forgot about it.

You chuckled at the sarcastic mention of your former suitor. "Okay, let’s hear it."

"Here it goes." He cleared his throat, lowering his voice as he read. "To my lovely mortician," he began, making you smile. "You brought life to the living dead that I was before I met you. Now, here I am, dying to be yours completely because I simply can’t live without you."

You laughed loudly. "God, Sunghoon! That’s so cheesy!" You rolled your eyes playfully.

"Wait? I’m not finished? I still have a closing line?” he sassily said but laughed as he wrapped his arm around your waist. He looked into your eyes, smiling as he read the final part of his so-called letter. "I’m head over heels, dying for you. Yours truly, Park Sunghoon."

Before you could laugh out loud, he kissed you, silencing your supposed laughter with a passionate embrace that made you melt into him. You moaned softly and kissed him back, realizing how much you missed him… and how much you missed this.

"I love you to death, Yoon Y/n," he whispered against your lips before pulling you into another deep, heated kiss. You clutched the fabric of his shirt, letting your kisses express everything you couldn’t put into words.

Day 803

You looked beautiful in his arms, still catching your breath from what you had just done, but happiness radiated from your face. You reached out and pinched his cheek playfully. "Wow, you’re so good at this!" you gasped. "How did you become such an expert so quickly? Have you been practicing with someone else?"

"No one else. It’s way more enjoyable when I’m with you," he replied, planting a kiss on your lips. "Come on, let’s get up."

You pulled him up from the parachute you had just been lying on. Yes, it was indeed a parachute. You had just finished skydiving. It was your third monthsary when you first introduced him to that extreme sport, and he had become so addicted to the thrill of flying that here you were again for what felt like the umpteenth time.

Life with you—his girlfriend, felt like skydiving—exhilarating, exciting... it was the adrenaline rush of his life.

So much had changed for Sunghoon since you officially became a couple twenty-five days after you first met. Most importantly, he had trashed out his 25-day dating method. People he knew were amused, confused, or even laughed at him, but he didn’t care about their opinions anymore. What mattered to him was that he had seen the light. His life had never been this fun.

Your relationship wasn’t perfect—you had disagreements and problems like anyone else—but you always managed to overcome them. He was confident that you could face anything that came your way because you both had each other's support and love... and, of course, the support of your families.

Now, it felt like he was ready for even more days of joy with you.

Sunghoon sighed contentedly with a smile, pulling you closer to him and kissing your forehead. "I love you." You grinned but didn’t have a response.

"Look over there." He pointed at something flying in the distance.

"Hey, there’s a drone!" you exclaimed. "I wonder if it captured our flight!"

He just smiled at you.

Before long, the drone flew up to you and stopped right at your feet. "What’s this?" you asked, narrowing your eyes as you shot Sunghoon a doubtful look. You noticed a small black coffin taped to the top of the device.

"Just take a look," Sunghoon replied casually.

Together, you both removed the tape from the drone, and then he handed you the small box. Your eyes widened as you examined it. "What now, Park Sunghoon?" you exclaimed, feeling a surge of nerves. It seemed you already guessed what he was planning. "Does your proposal really have to have a Halloween theme?"

He laughed. "What do you mean ‘proposal’? Just open the coffin and see for yourself. You’re so quick to assume, you know that?” he laughed as you playfully punched his arm and slowly opened the tiny box.

"It’s ring!" you squealed when you saw what was inside. You read from the small note attached to the ring.

I’m dying to spend the rest of my life with you.

"Oh my god, Sunghoon, you’re so annoying!" You lightly punched his shoulder.

He cupped your face in his hands, and you felt a rush of butterflies in your stomach from the nerves. You smiled, even though he could tell you were on the verge of tears. He let the words pour out with all the overwhelming emotions inside him. "You’ve brought my faith back to life. You’ve revived my long-lost dreams of finding a love like my parents had." He sighed. "I’m completely down bad dead in love with you. Please m-marry me, Yoon Y/n."

Tears filled your eyes. With love shining brightly, you replied, "Okay, fine. I’ll marry you. I couldn’t say not to a poor thing, can’t I?"

He laughed and wrapped you in a tight embrace, holding the woman he loved more than anything in the world.

[mustainegf]

high sex with kirk. just being his best friend but you get so horny from the weed that you just HAVE to fuck. need that NEOWWW

THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA?? AND SOOO KIRK

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ¹⁹⁸⁶

We were lounging on the old couch in Kirk's basement, the joint being passed back and forth. The room was dark except for the lava lamp, its slow hypnotic glow casting a dim light on everything. Everything was seeming a little funky, like the weed was hitting us a little bit harder than it usually did. My head was foggy in the right way, my body felt heavy, it was sinking deeper into the cushions.

Kirk took a long drag, his eyes half closed. "Man, this stuff is good," he managed to say in a slow, lazy tone. He passed the joint back to me and I hit it, feeling the smoke burn slightly before I let it out in a soft, hazy cloud.

I turned to him, and something caught my eye. He shifted in his seat, almost uncomfortably. It took a moment for me to realize what was going on, and then when I did, I couldn't help but laugh. "Kirk, are you…?" I laughed, motioning to the very obvious bulge in his black jeans.

He groaned, tossing his head back onto the couch. "Don't," he muttered while covering his face with his hand. I was already laughing, that uncontrollable, high pitched giggle that comes when you're way too high and everything feels way more hilarious than it should be.

"I can't help it!" I sputtered, giggling. "It's just there!" I waved my hand in a general direction at his lap, and he groaned again, his cheeks flushing a little. "What's got you all worked up, huh?" I teased, nudging his arm.

He was groaning, but at the same time he was smiling, the corners of his mouth twitching up, he couldn't help but find it kind of funny too. "It's the weed," he mumbled. "It always makes me… you know."

I raised an eyebrow. "Horny?" I asked, barely suppressing another laugh. He nodded, clearly embarrassed which just made it funnier.

"Well," I said, smiling wryly, "what are you gonna do about it? 'Cause it doesn't seem like it's going anywhere." I relaxed back, my head resting against the back of the couch.

Kirk chuckled, running a hand through his messy black hair. "I don't know," he said, shifting uncomfortably again. "Just trying to, like, think of other stuff."

I looked at him, then at the bulge, which wasn't very clearly going away. "You sure about that?" I asked, grinning. I could see frustration on his face, but it was rather comical, in a weird way.

I couldn't stop myself. Without even thinking about it, I reached over and pressed down on his crotch, right on top of his jeans with a giggle. "Maybe 'little Kirk' just needs some help going down," I laughed.

The second my hand touched, though, he let out this low, almost helpless moan. I froze a second, my eyes wide. "Whoa," I said, laughing but also a little surprised. "Did that actually feel good?"

He bit his lip, half lidded eyes on mine. "You have no idea," he said, voice rougher now, almost desperate. "I told you, I'm too fucking high for this shit.

I blinked, teasing still but intrigued a little now. "So you're saying this isn't going away, huh?" I asked, pressing down again, this time harder. He moaned again; his hips shifted slightly under my hand.

I should have stopped there. Should've let it go, made another joke, moved on. Something about the way he reacted stirred something inside me. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was the way he looked at me-his eyes dark, needy. And I felt my body spark up, a burn started low in my belly.

"Well, what are you gunna do about it?" I asked, my voice lower now, maybe not quite as teasing.

Kirk looked at me, his eyes hot. "I can't… it's not just gonna go away," he growled, his voice low. "Not without, you know…" His eyes flashed to my lips and my pulse sped up.

My mouth went dry, but I forced a smile, keeping it light despite the fact that I was beginning to feel it, too. "What, you need me to fix it for you?" I teased, but there was heat behind my words now.

He didn't say a word, but the glint in his eye said it all. And before I could really think about what I was really doing, I moved, scrambling on top of him, straddling his lap. His hands came up to rest on my hips, like he’d been waiting to do so.

"This is probably a terrible idea," I said, but I was already tilting forward, my lips grabbing his.

"Probably," he agreed, but then his mouth was on mine, and the rest of the world went away.

It was a sloppy kiss, all fire and need. His hands slipped up underneath my T shirt, his calloused fingertips grazing my skin and shooting shivers down my spine. I could feel how hard he was beneath me, the rigid length of his arousal pressing against me through his jeans. I rocked down on him, and he groaned into my mouth, his grasp on my hips clenching tighter.

I pulled back just far enough to tug my shirt over my head, flinging it aside before reaching for his. He helped me, tugging it off in one smooth tug. His chest was hot to mine, heart pounding just as hard as mine was.

I leaned down, pressing kisses along his jaw, down his neck, while my hands fumbled with the button of his jeans. "Let's see if we can help 'little Kirk' out," I whispered, smirking against his skin.

He laughed breathlessly, but it degenerated into a groan when I finally succeeded in unzipping his jeans, sliding my hand inside. His cock was hot and pulsing, and I couldn't help but stroke him slowly, teasingly.

"Fuck," he hissed, hips bucking up into my hand. "You're killing me.”

I smiled, enjoying the control I had over him in this instant. But I was just as riled up now, my own body aching with need. "Then let's make it better," I said, getting up briefly to remove my jeans and underwear, just as he did his.

When we were both naked, I climbed back onto his lap, his cock pressing insistently against my entrance. I hesitated for just a second, meeting his eyes, and everything felt more comfortable, more real. But then he kissed me again, and I felt myself fall a little bit in love.

I sank down onto him slowly, both of us groaning at the sensation. He filled me completely and for a moment we just stayed like that, savoring the feeling. Then I started to move, rolling my hips in slow, steady motions, and he matched my pumps, his hands clamping onto my hips and guiding me up and down on his length.

It was messy, sloppy, but in the best of ways. We were frantic, our bodies slick with sweat. I rode him quick, my nails digging into his shoulders while his tip rubbed my G spot relentlessly.

Truthfully, it didn’t take either of us that long. The weed, combined with everything going on, just had both of us on the edge.

The tension built and built within my body, tighter and tighter until I just could not hold it back anymore. I came with a soft cry, my whole body trembling around him, and a few moments later, he followed, his hips jerking up into mine as he released inside me. Warm spurts heated me from the inside.

We stayed that way for a moment, both of us breathing hard, still tied in each other's arms. Then I fell against his chest, and he wrapped himself around me, holding me tight as we came down from the high.

"Well," I said after a minute, my voice still tired, "that was…"

"Fucking crazy," he completed, and we both erupted into laughter, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room.

We were high, tangled up in each other, but now the calm was in, that lazy satisfaction after the storm. I burrowed my face into his neck, feeling his heartbeat start to slow down beneath my cheek.

"I guess weed really does make you horny," I said, smirking against his skin.

He chuckled softly, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back. "Apparently.".

We spent some time just lying there, cuddling, our bodies still buzzing from the high, but much more relaxed now. No trace of awkwardness whatsoever, no weirdness-just two of us, laughing, holding each other, absolutely comfortable in the aftermath of everything.

Finally, I drew back far enough to take a good look at him, my fingers brushing a stray lock of hair out of his face. "So… round two?" I joked, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned. "Maybe after a nap.

[thezombieprostitute]

Barista Steve - Part 4

Summary: Finals have you super stressed out. Steve knows how to help with that.

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: Bad parents, Dom/Sub dynamics, Smut. Please let me know if I missed any!

You were dealing with the big F's: Finals, Family and Fear of Failure. Your parents wouldn't stop reminding you of the importance of passing your exams. Your classes were incredibly difficult. And you didn't want to think about what would happen if you didn't pass one of your finals.

As you leave your latest study group, you see Steve waiting for you by his motorcycle. You're practically running to hug him, finding solace in his scent, his touch, his comforting words.

Steve has been frustrated by your situation as well. He knows you're not getting real support from your family. Well, not the kind of support that actually helps. More the kind of support that only makes things worse. He's doubtful of your defense of "they mean well". He's seen the effects of the stress and while he's worked hard to help mitigate them, there's only so much he can do.

The one big light at the end of the tunnel for both of you was your agreement to move in together as soon as you got your degree. Neither of you cared that your parents wouldn't approve of Steve, you both knew there'd be no one else for either of you. You took care of each other, supported each other, and you were tired of keeping him a dirty secret.

Besides, your parents had told you time and time again they wouldn't support you forever. Part of you knows you should've moved out sooner, but it was a truth you couldn't realize until you got a taste of what you really wanted. Steve definitely provided that. You'd be forever grateful to him for his patience.

"Hey there, Good Girl," Steve coos into your ear. "I figured you could use a break. A chance to shut down your brain."

"That sounds perfect, Sir," you agree. "Need to let my brain relax."

"Then let's put your choker on and get your helmet."

Steve didn't take you to the studio like you thought he would. Instead he parked the motorcycle outside of one of your favorite diners. The constriction of the choker reminds you that he's in charge, you're not to question his commands, but you can't hide the look of confusion on your face.

He sees your face and puts his hand on the back of your neck, "I need to take care of my Good Girl and I know you haven't been eating well lately. So we're going to get you food, water. And remember, I'll order for you so you don't have to waste brain power."

"Thank you, Sir," you happily sigh. You've been subsisting on granola bars and coffee lately. Your stomach rumbles at the thought of real food.

Steve orders you both moderately sized meals. He knows you need to eat but too much food could hurt you just as much as the too little you've had lately. He also makes sure you both drink water. He doesn't want to be unfair and order something for himself that you can't or shouldn't eat and he knows you need to hydrate. Especially after you start drinking your water and it's gone in a blink!

After the meal you're starting to feel sleepy. Steve kisses your forehead and says he's taking you to his place. Again, you're confused that you're not going to the studio but you don't question. You just enjoy holding onto him while riding his motorcycle. Breathing in his scent, feeling his muscled torso underneath your arms. The cold wind doesn't bother you much because he's just so warm.

Steve walks you up to his apartment. You hope it'll be both of yours soon. He directs you inside and tells you to wait for him in the bedroom. You don't need to be told twice.

Once inside the bedroom, you drop to your knees and let your arms relax as you wait for his orders. It's taken a lot of time and effort but you've learned how to shut down the part of your brain that feels bad for "sitting around doing nothing". Wearing the choker, feeling it every time you breath, is a good reminder and a good focus to keep you from fidgeting and thinking about what's next.

Steve walks in wearing nothing but a pair of low hanging grey sweatpants. You fight the urge to moan at the view of his tattooed, muscly torso while your pussy clenches. He steps in front of you. "Undress," he orders.

You stand as you hurry to obey. When you're fully naked you successfully fight the urge to try to cover yourself with your arms. You never have to feel ashamed in front of Steve. He's told you time and time again how much he loves seeing all of you. He's shown you as well.

"Good Girl," he purrs. He brings out a skimpy but soft looking nightgown. "Arms up."

You raise your arms and he puts the nightgown on you. It fits perfectly, like you knew it would. Steve always seems to know what feels comfortable for you. Knows what you need and how you need it. It's why you trust him enough to shut your brain down around him.

He caresses your cheek, eyes full of love, before pulling back the blankets on the bed. "Now lay down on your side for some cuddles."

You practically leap onto the bed in eagerness. Cuddles with Steve are always so restful and generally lead to more. A part of you is worried that you're going to fall asleep, but you quiet that down. You're following Sir's orders, being his Good Girl. He knows what he's doing.

Steve gets into the bed and holds you from behind. You've never felt so safe and warm as you do in these moments. He gently caresses you, giving you occasional kisses to the top of your head. Your eyelids are getting so heavy. He whispers, "go ahead and sleep, Good Girl. Pretty sure you need it. I'll hold you the entire time."

He says more but your brain doesn't processes anything other than that he's talking, it just drifts off to sleep.

You're not sure how long you slept for, but every part of you knows you needed that sleep. True to his word, Steve is still holding you and you smile in appreciation, small tears forming in the corner of your eye. You feel Steve stir and he squeezes you tight.

"Did you sleep well?" He yawns and kisses the top of your head.

"Yes, Sir."

"Glad to hear it," he mumbles as he continues to kiss you. You can feel his erection against your ass and fight the urge to roll your hips against him. "My Good Girl needed some rest, didn't she?"

"Yes, Sir," you rasp. Your need is building. He can definitely hear it in your voice because he softly chuckles against your skin.

"I think my Good Girl needs something else now," he purrs into your ear, sending electricity straight to your core.

He moves his hand down your body and reaches underneath the nightgown. You understand now why it was so skimpy; not only did it show off plenty of skin, but it gave him ready access to everything. He starts rubbing his fingers along you folds as he nibbles gently on your shoulder, making you whimper.

"I'm going to get on my back and you're going to sit on my face," he tells you. "No hovering."

"Yes, Sir," you whimper, both excited and nervous. Steve had a tendency to get lost in the taste of your pussy, making you overstimulated.

Before he lets you go he whispers, "what's your safe word?" You tell him and he thanks you before rolling onto his back.

You're quick to move into position, but you still let yourself enjoy the sight of Steve's body, his erection making a prominent tent in his sweatpants. As you're settling onto his face, Steve is already pinning you to him and devouring you. His strong hands hold you in place as he uses his tongue to reach all of your favorite spots. They're some of his favorite, too, because of the sounds the elicit from you.

The headboard is the only thing you can grasp and you do so with all your might as the first orgasm of many hits you hard and you cry out from pleasure. A small part of your brain realizes how much you've been needing this as it feels like everything in your system is finally unclenching from all your stress. It's only been a minute or so and your limbs are already feeling like jelly.

After the second orgasm, you're already crying from relief and pleasure. You repeatedly rasp, "thank you, Sir," not knowing if Steve can actually hear it or not. You try to roll your hips, a silent plea for him not to stop. He responds with a squeeze to your hips, an acknowledgement of your request as he adjusts just enough to reach that one spot he knows drives you crazy. He smiles as you cry out from the sensation and ride his face like your life depended on it. He keeps going until you cum on his face a third time.

He slows to a stop as your body goes lax, tears flowing freely down your face. He gently maneuvers you so that you're beside him, still repeating your mantra of "thank you, Sir". He looks you over but doesn't pick up on anything worrisome. "How's my Good Girl doing?"

"Thank you, Sir," you whimper. "Thank you for taking care of me."

He kisses along your cheeks where your tears are falling. "Such a Good Girl. But we're not done yet. Lay on your stomach."

As soon as you turn, Steve spreads your legs. "Such a pretty pussy," he groans. He kneads your ass cheeks for a bit before kissing up along your spine until he's covering you like a weighted blanket. He wraps one of his arms around so that he's got a hold on your throat. He kisses you once again before he roughly pushes his cock into you.

"Best pussy I've ever felt," he tells you as he starts up a brutal pace that has you keening. "Taking my cock like the good girl you are," he praises. "Taking everything I give you and begging for more."

"S--S--Sir," you croak.

"Cum for me," he orders. Your body automatically obeys. "That's my Good Girl," he groans as your pussy squeezes him tight. "Fucking you brain dead feels so good." You moan in response to his words. "You like being fucked like this? You like when my cock makes you dumb?"

"Y--Yes, Sir!"

He licks along the back of your neck, making you squeal. "I need one more from you." He readjusts you so you're slightly on your knees, making his cock feel so much deeper. He resumes the brutal pace and you start to see stars from the pleasure. "Cum for me, Good Girl."

Your body obliges and you cum with a lewd sob. He's quick to follow with a few grunts before he lets go of your throat and starts giving you small kisses along your back.

He pulls out of you with a soft hiss and immediately goes into aftercare mode. He removes your choker, cleans you up, and gives you reassurances as he holds you.

Finals are done. You've officially completed your degree. You opt to not go to the graduation ceremony, too many people. You've moved in with Steve, much to your parents' disbelief and outrage. They called you a lot of not very nice things that only reaffirmed your choice to get away from them.

One of Steve's friends at his art studio actually got you connected with a well paying job near the apartment. You were happy to finally be contributing financially. More importantly, Steve didn't object to you having your own bank account. Steve never wanted you to feel you had to be with him because of finances. He wanted you to have agency. It was something you'd probably spend forever getting used to.

Thankfully, Steve had the patience to help you out.

Okay, so this series is done, right? Barista Steve won't continue to bug me, right?!

Edit: Part 3/Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ronearoundblindly

[storiesforallfandoms]

a perfect world ~ jack chambers;don't worry darling

word count: 2122

request?: no

description: in which she finds out that their picture perfect world is not as perfect as it seems

pairing: jack chambers x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, kind of an au where jack isn't an incel but he still does the bad thing of taking the reader into the simulation, jack tries to gaslight the reader, kind of a dark fic if you think about it but not super dark

masterlist (one, two, three)

Jack knew something was wrong the moment he walked into the house. It was the quiet that tipped him off. It was never quiet. Usually the place was filled with music. Either the soft lull of the radio, or his wife's humming, or both.

This time, though, the house was eerily quiet.

Jack came around the corner to find his wife stood at the kitchen counter. She had a glass of wine in her hand, with the bottle next to her on the counter. She was staring off into space as she took a sip of her wine, her movements almost robotic.

"(Y/N)?" Jack said, cautiously. "Love, are you alright?"

(Y/N) didn't respond at first. She took a long sip before slowly placing the glass down. Jack's worry was growing further. Not only worry for his wife, but worry for himself. If something was seriously wrong with her, then it would result in demotion, or worse, from Frank.

Finally, (Y/N) turned to face him. Her face was so calm that it scared Jack. When she spoke, her voice was also eerily calm.

"I know about Victory."

Jack tried to laugh off the comment. "My job? Of course you know about it, love."

"No," (Y/N) said, shaking her head. "I know what Victory is. I know why we're here, Jack. And what you did to me."

Jack's blood ran cold.

In his fear and anxiety, Jack started laughing again. (Y/N)'s face was still blank as she looked at him.

"I don't know what you're on about," Jack said. "I didn't do anything to you, besides put a ring on your finger."

(Y/N) chuckled, but there was no true humor behind it. "Well, yes, you did actually do that. But you didn't do it the way we've been telling the story, did you?"

Jack started to walk away. He was trying to seem nonchalant, but the panic was starting to overwhelm him. He didn't want (Y/N) to see his panic, otherwise he wouldn't be able to convince her that she was wrong.

He stopped when (Y/N) called after him, "How long do you intend to keep me in this simulation?"

Jack spun around before he could stop himself. "You are crazy! Do you hear yourself? You're talking crazy!"

Emotion was finally showing on (Y/N)'s face. It quickly went from shock to anger. "You're going to call me crazy? When you're the one who has me hooked up to a machine and making me play happy little housewife?!"

"You don't know what you're talking about!"

Jack couldn't help but quickly look around in panic. There was no way Frank was listening in on their private conversations, right? This wouldn't get back to him, would it? He needed to stop (Y/N) before things got too loud or somehow their neighbors noticed the arguing.

He tried a more calm approach, saying, "Love, I don't know where you got this idea. We are not in a simulation, you are not hooked up to machines. I'm sorry I called you crazy, but you have to understand that is how everyone will react when they hear you saying this."

(Y/N) pulled away as Jack tried to reach for her. "I got this idea when I went to the Victory headquarters."

Jack backed away from her. No, she couldn't have been to the Headquarters. None of the wives even knew where the Headquarters was, and they wouldn't be able to even go out that far.

Except for Margaret, but Ted wore he had her under control.

They locked eyes, silently daring the other to make a move. Jack had lost any sense of confidence he had mustered seconds ago. He felt like everything was about to slip from his fingers. Everything he worked so hard to build for him and (Y/N), all gone in the seconds it took for her to utter that sentence. Meanwhile, (Y/N) had gone back to looking emotionless. She didn't even realize how much she was about to lose.

When Jack didn't break the silence, (Y/N) took it as her opportunity to explain, "I was on the trolley and it broke down. The driver told me it would take some time for it to be fixed, so I offered to just walk back to town. But, oddly, the driver started trying to convince me not to get off. He was very adamant about staying on the trolley. I was a little put off by how insistent he was on it, but I thought he was just worried for my safety."

Jack felt himself unconsciously clenching his fists. The damn trolley driver. Couldn't he have been a little more subtle?

"I did stay on for a while," she continued. "But it was just the two of us, and I knew I'd get home quicker if I just walked. So I did. When the driver wasn't paying much attention, I got off and started walking. But we were in the desert, and none of us wives have ever been out that far, so I was a bit lost. I found his building I've never seen or heard of before. I knew I shouldn't go to it, but...my curiosity got the better of me."

Jack felt as though he was going to start crying. Even though he already knew the answer, he asked, "What did you see?"

"Nothing," (Y/N) responded. "Not at first. Not until I touched the building. Then I saw the truth. All of it."

Jack winced.

That's it. There's no denying her when she saw the building.

The truth was that (Y/N) was right: she was hooked up to a machine that was putting her in a simulated perfect 50s town.

In the real world, Jack and (Y/N) were really married. They fell in love young and married right after they graduated university. Everything was great, until Jack lost his job. His company was on a fast downwards spiral that resulted in a number of employees getting terminated, and Jack was one of the unfortunate ones. (Y/N) was still trying to get a job within her field of study, so she was working a minimum wage retail job. While Jack was unemployed, (Y/N) had to carry the financial burdens, and that made Jack feel awful and useless.

Then he discovered Frank and Victory.

Frank promised a perfect world and a perfect life. All Jack needed to do was work for eight hours a day, as well as all the other men within their town, for Frank; for Victory. It was a small price to pay for him and (Y/N) to live their dream life.

And now all of that work was ruined. Frank would take care of (Y/N) for finding out, whatever that meant, and Jack would be exiled from Victory.

He had to sit down.

He lowered himself into a chair at their dining table. (Y/N) was still watching him. He wished she would just do whatever she planned to do; scream, break things, go right to Frank and tell him she knew about everything. Whatever the plan, he just wanted her to get it over with. The unknown silence was killing him.

"Why?" she finally asked. "Why did you do this?"

"For us," Jack said. "So we could live a better life."

"What was wrong with our life before?"

Jack scoffed. "Seriously? (Y/N), we were struggling. I was unemployed, you were working a shitty job. You were pulling all the financial weight, and I hate that all of that was on your shoulders."

"So instead of talking to me about your feelings, you hooked me up to a machine and put me into a simulation without my consent?"

Jack hung his head. There was no way to paint that part in a good light. He hadn't brought up Victory because he was afraid (Y/N) would reject the idea, and he couldn't take their real life for much longer.

"I just wanted to take care of you," Jack said, his voice small. "You were doing it for so long, and you never complained even though I know it was tough. I didn't want you to do it anymore, and Frank offered the perfect life for us."

He heard (Y/N)'s heels clicking against the tiled kitchen floor as she approached the table. He couldn't look up at her as she leaned on the table, basically towering over him.

"What happens if Frank finds out that I know?" she asked.

Jack shook his head. "I don't completely know. He just says he takes care of it."

"Did he take care of Margaret?"

He didn't ask her how she knew that Margaret had known the truth as well. It was probably pretty obvious now that she knew. Instead, he just nodded. "And he told Ted that if he didn't get Margaret under control, then he'd be fired from Victory."

"So, if Frank finds out, this is all over for both of us?"

He nodded again. He had a feeling he knew where she was going with this. She'd go tell Frank that she knew the truth about Victory, even though it would be a risk for her to do so. But the risk would be worth it if it meant Jack was fired from Victory, sent back to the reality that he was trying to desperately to save them from. Once they were back in their own reality, (Y/N) would no doubt divorce him as well. He'd deserve it, of course.

"Then I'll just have to get really good at keeping a secret."

Jack's head shot up quickly to look at (Y/N). There was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and there was something in her eyes as she looked at Jack.

"What do you mean?" he asked, dumbly.

"I mean, what you did was very fucked up. Like, extremely fucked up. Next time you're making big decisions like, I don't know, putting us in a fucking simulation, maybe talk to me about it first. But, with that being said...I'd be lying if I said I preferred our real life over this one."

Jack was stunned. This was not what he was expecting at all.

(Y/N) gestured for Jack to push his chair back. When given enough room, she sat herself on his lap and put her arms around his neck.

"We can't stay here forever," she told him. "We have real bodies that need to be taken care of, and families and people that will worry if we just disappear. But, it's hard to give up on this life. It's so...perfect."

"So what are you saying?" Jack asked.

"I'm saying we put a cap on how long we stay here. Give it...I don't know, another year. We let ourselves be happy, be worry free. Then, however we have to, we get out of here and we get to working on making our reality just as perfect as the simulation is."

"You'll have to go back to work."

She nodded. "I know. But I'm not opposed to working. I did get a whole degree so I could work my dream job, after all."

Jack put his arms around her. He wanted to pull her in close and not ever let her go, but he couldn't just yet. "Why?"

She furrowed her brows. "Why what?"

"Why aren't you more mad? Why aren't you going to tell Frank so that I get in trouble? Why do you want to stay here...stay with me?"

(Y/N) gave him a look like she thought he was being incredibly stupid before cupping his cheeks. "Because I love you, you idiot. And, like I said, the way you went about doing this was very stupid and wrong, but I know you did it because you love me, too. As long as you can agree with my deal, I don't see any reason to be mad and want to leave you."

Jack finally allowed himself to kiss her. It caught her off guard, which made her giggle against his lips. Every memory he had with her, both in the real world and in their simulation, came rushing back to him.

"I agree," he said. "I'll do whatever you want, I promise."

"Right now, I think I want to make love to my husband in our super cool retro bedroom," she told him. "Just to make sure I don't forget how to do that when we get back to the real world."

Jack smiled at her. "Oh, don't worry love. I won't let you forget."

[queerfables]

So Buck and Tommy are sitting down at this swanky but discreet hotel bar, an hour early to their meet up with Abby because at some point between the words "Sure I'll have a threesome with you and your girlfriend" coming out of his mouth and waking up this morning next to the fiance he's spent years trying to want, Tommy has had a life altering realisation about himself.

Tommy had suggested rescheduling the meeting, but apparently Buck's girlfriend is super busy with a bunch of life stuff that Buck was vague on the details of, and this is the only time she can make for like three weeks.

"And look, it's no pressure," Buck had said. "Even if nothing ends up happening like that, I still want you guys to meet. You're cool, she's cool... You should totally be friends."

So instead he's here checking his watch and trying to figure out how to tell Buck that he doesn't want to sleep with his girlfriend because he maybe doesn't want to sleep with girls at all, and side note but he kind of has a fiance he probably needs to leave, and he has to say it in the next... oh God it's only 47 minutes now.

But the thing is. The thing is. It turns out the words I'm gay are so, so easy to say. He's spent years locking them carefully behind his teeth and now that they're finally out all he feels is relief. And Buck just blinks at him, and then his face splits into a huge grin, and Tommy realises that Buck's mirroring him, because he's grinning too.

"So that's a no on the threesome, then?" Buck says.

Tommy laughs. "Yeah, not so much. But look, if you have any hot boyfriends you want me to meet..."

And then he's gearing up to say the next thing, the Evan, there's something else, because if he's going to start being truthful then maybe he should try being all the way truthful, when Buck's phone rings.

"Oh, hold that thought," Buck says, checking the caller ID. "It's her, and listen, I know I said it's hard for her to find time, but I can still totally cancel, I mean, this is big for you, right?" But Tommy, feeling lighter than air, waves him off.

So Buck answers the call, and Abby is like "Hey, listen, I know I said I couldn't get there until later but my - well, I was supposed to have a fitting for this stupid wedding I'm going to be in, but the groom rescheduled last minute so I'm free. Want to meet up early?"

And Buck is like "You're gonna be in a wedding?"

"Yeah, well, in theory. I'd invite you but I've sort of already got a plus one."

"Maybe next time," He says, pleased when Abby laughs, though he's not sure he's in on the joke.

He tells Abby they're already at the bar and they'll see her when she gets there, and she's like "Oh, that's perfect, because I'm actually walking through the door right - "

And then her voice cuts off abruptly, and beside him, he feels Tommy go still as ice.

"Abby?" Tommy says.

In perfect unison, Abby says, "What the fuck."

Okay but WHO is gonna write me the fic where Buck meets Abby and Tommy while they're still together and accidentally seduces both of them independently of each other. And homewrecks the hell out of that relationship but, like, for their own good.

[lumimis]

sometimes i think

[redysetdare]

If you're first response to a repulsed person's identity is "As long as you're not sex/romance negative" then you don't ACTUALLY support repulsed people. if you're first response is basically "this is the qualification you have to meet for me to view your identity as valid and it's up to my interpretation on if you reach this unknown criteria" then you don't actually support repulsed people.

you can't go around saying how repulsed people are valid ONLY IF they're the "good ones" that's not how that works buddy.

[coquelicoq]

i fucking love prereading. getting documents about what's going to be discussed in a meeting and reading them and then going to the meeting and having context for all the things that are happening. if i could do this in all areas of life i would. send me a list of the words i'm going to need the definition of in order to understand what you will be talking about. give me a rundown of what topics might come up during this social encounter. provide detailed documentation of what to expect in a new setting. i will read the fuck out of that shit.

[hella1975]

sometimes i think about the fact my grandparents literally overnight just cut us off and im like. how did u even do that. does it torment you

[bogology]

so true bestie all the things i like are connected to each other even if they aren't. they are now

[soulsxng]

It's always funny to me that I don't realize how I tend to talk to my oldest dog like he's an elementary schooler until someone points it out. For example, I just told went "Sweet Pea, you know you can't watch TV unless you have your good boy (his ball, but we had to stop saying that because it used to make him get super riled up when he heard ball, and we just never changed back lmao). Go find it, and then you can watch.", and my grandma heard me and goes "You're going to confuse him, he's not going to understand all of that!"

Then she was floored when he gave the grumpiest old man sigh, and went to search the house for his ball. Comes back to the room to show me he has it, and then goes back into the living room to sit on the couch when I go "Oh, good job! You can go watch TV now!" And my grandma was just standing there staring at him all shocked.

[inkskinned]

probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.

we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."

at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.

the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.

the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.

what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.

here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.

[incognit0slut]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Behind Closed Doors

Your admiration of his vest leads you to an empty office with his face buried between your thighs—and an urgent Emily demanding your whereabouts.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) soft!dom spence (are we even surprised), fingering, oral sex (f), semi-public, slight overstimulation, and Emily kind of overhears because she calls Reader in the middle of the deed (oops). 5k words

A/n: I don’t have any excuse for this one, I just wanted to rewrite this scene of him because looking at it is not enough

You heard him before you saw him. It wasn't his voice per se, but the distinct sound of rapid shots cutting through the air. The noise seemed to intensify as you stepped into the control room, almost overbearing, but you'd long since grown used to its piercing sound.

"Is that Reid?" You asked, your polished boots echoing into the confined space. The officer monitoring him through the surveillance camera glanced over at you, and even though her expression didn't betray outright displeasure, you could hear a subtle edge in her voice.

"Agent Y/L/N," she greeted, her eyes darting between the rows of monitors, then to you, and finally settling on the clipboard in her hand. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Actually, I am. It’s Tuesday, my usual training day.”

"Not for another hour."

"I know," you countered, holding up your wrist to check your watch. "But I have some spare time, thought I’d come by early."

“I’m afraid it’s occupied right now. Agent Reid is still in the middle of his test."

This caught your attention. "What test?"

She glanced at you, her expression conflicted. "It's just a routine evaluation."

"He's currently not an active agent," you pointed out. It hadn’t been too long since his release from prison. It didn’t make any sense for him to go through an evaluation, not when he was behind bars for the past few weeks. Then recognition dawned on your face. "He's being evaluated to rejoin the team, isn't he?"

"I... I'm not at liberty to discuss that," she replied. Her gaze faltered momentarily before she nodded slowly, confirming your suspicions. "But yes, it's standard procedure for agents returning from extended leave."

"Oh wow—okay," you responded, absorbing the information. Your eyes flickered towards the monitor. "How's he doing?"

Her lips formed a thoughtful line before she answered, "Like the second coming of Wyatt Earp."

You let out a laugh, finding the comparison amusing. You'd known Spencer for what, three, four years? While he wasn't bad with firearms, comparing him to a historical figure like Wyatt Earp seemed a bit exaggerated. However, as you watched him through the monitors, despite your initial skepticism, you couldn't deny the truth in her words.

You had witnessed him handle a gun countless times, but always in situations where there was a real threat, where you both had to be on high alert. Yet as you observed him now from a different perspective, it was hard to tear your eyes away. It was as if he was in his element, and Spencer Reid in his element never looked so... attractive?

Now that wasn't an exaggeration. Although you had never admitted this to anyone—god forbid what your teammates would say—there was an undeniable charm to the confidence he exuded. While Spencer had always been attractive, there was something different about the way he handled the gun.

You were sure it had something to do with his time in prison. After all, who wouldn't be affected by such a daunting place, especially when you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place? Yet, surprisingly, Spencer seemed to be coping better than you expected. Despite the toll it must have taken on him, it was evident that his experiences had shaped him, perhaps more than he let on.

Although he was still the same sweet, adorable guy you considered one of your closest friends. But you weren't sure your current observation of him fitted the typical definition of friendship… because there was nothing remotely friendly about the thoughts running in your head right now.

Not only was it not friendly, but it wasn't exactly innocent. Because look at him. Look at the way he was gripping the gun, his arms defined beneath his rolled-up sleeves. Look at the way his protective glasses covered his face, the black-rimmed frames accentuating his handsome features. And even though you had seen him wear the uniform vest countless times, somehow it was undeniably distracting the way it hugged his chest. 

Yep—there was nothing remotely friendly about how you wanted to climb up the man.

A sudden buzz echoed in the room, snapping you to reality. You glanced up and noticed the officer you were talking to entering the monitor screen and it dawned on you that you had been so distracted by your thoughts that you hadn't realized she had left the control room.

"I'll send the results to the review board this evening," the officer's voice resonated from the screen.

"Did I do okay?" His voice came through.

"Like the second coming of Wyatt Earp," she replied, echoing her earlier assessment. Her gaze shifted to the printed cardboard image of a man, supposedly representing the Unsub, which was shredded right around the face. "Or... Al Capone, maybe."

You observed Spencer's slight nod as she turned and walked out of the screen. Quickly, you exited the control room and met her in the hallway.

"Agent Y/L/N," she called out as she spotted you. "You can have the room in five minutes—"

"I need to reschedule."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Reschedule?"

"Uh... yes, something urgent came up," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual.

She regarded you for a moment before nodding. "Alright, just let me know when you want to reschedule."

"I will, thank you," you said quickly. Sensing her lingering gaze, you added, "Oh, I'm just waiting for Reid. I need his help on... something."

A faint smile played on her lips, though she didn't press further. "Of course, I'll leave you to it then." 

With a nod, she turned and walked away just as the door at the end of the hallway opened, revealing Spencer emerging from the room. His eyes met yours in confusion, and you could sense his curiosity as he approached you.

"Hey," he greeted. "What are you doing here?"

You cocked your head to the side.

What were you doing here? 

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before offering a shrug. "Just passing by, I guess."

His brow furrowed slightly as if he sensed there was more to your answer than you were letting on. "Alright," he said, though his curiosity lingered in his gaze.

You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, suddenly feeling the need to change the subject. "So, how did the evaluation go?"

"So you've heard.”

"Yeah," you confirmed, starting to walk down the hallway as he stepped in pace beside you. "I can't wait for you to be back on the team. Officially, that is."

"If they let me back on the team."

"Of course they will," you reassured him, your hand finding its place on his shoulder, offering support. "You're more than qualified."

He sighed, and you tried not to notice the subtle movement of his vest across his chest, or how it shifted under your touch. "You think so?"

"I know so," you affirmed, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me, they'll definitely bring you back."

He stopped his pace, and so did you, before his eyes flickered towards your hand on his shoulder. He must've sensed something different, considering you weren't exactly the type of person who liked physical contact. Neither of you were, actually. While Spencer was known for his aversion to germs, you simply preferred maintaining a certain level of personal space.

"Seriously," he wondered, his tone laced with curiosity. "What are you doing down here?"

You cleared your throat. "I told you, I was just passing by."

"Really? Is that why you're talking to me instead of going through your usual training?" he pressed on. "It's Tuesday. I'm well aware of your schedule."

Damn him and his eidetic memory. You shifted away from his gaze. "Can't a girl just choose to have a chat with a friend?"

"You chose me over your scheduled routine?” his lips curved into a subtle smile. “Am I that much of a distraction?”

Yes, that damn vest is distracting me.

"Distraction might be a bit strong,” you replied, the lie sounding feeble even to your own ears.

"So you’re admitting I’m slightly distracting?"

"I never said that.”

Spencer leaned in and you felt the heat of his proximity radiating from his body. "But you didn't deny it either.”

You felt a faint blush creep onto your cheeks as you realized the shift in his tone. Dare you say he was... flirting with you? Or was it just your imagination running wild? From the corner of your eye, you caught the subtle way he licked his lips, and without meaning to, your own gaze was drawn to the movement.

It was a habit of his, one you'd observed countless times before whether it was out of concentration or a mere reflex. But seeing it up close now, the way his tongue traced the curve of his bottom lip, was driving you insane.

You swallowed hard. This was not friendly behavior. A friend wouldn't be imagining what it would feel like to have his tongue on your lips instead.

"Y/N?"

Your face felt hot as you met his gaze. "I..."

Before you could respond, the sound of laughter and chatter from down the hallway reached your ears. You heard Penelope's unmistakable giggle with JJ's animated voice, and suddenly your instinct took over. Without a second thought, you reached out and grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him into an empty office nearby. 

The door shut with a soft thud, and you frowned, suddenly feeling embarrassed. You didn't want to be caught in a state of flustered panic like some nervous school girl talking to her crush, but as Spencer stood behind you, you realized you were overreacting. The more you dwelled on it, the more absurd it seemed to hide away when there was no reason to.

With a sigh, you turned to face him. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to..."

But as your gaze met him, your words faltered because he was standing closer than you expected. Close enough that the color of his eyes seemed to intensify under the soft light filtering through the window—a rich brown, like warm chocolate, with specks of gold that danced in the sunlight.

Your eyes involuntarily traced downwards, from the sharp lines of his nose to the curve of his lips, lingering on the stubble lining his jawline. Your mind wandered, and now you couldn't help but wonder how it would feel having it against your skin. Or how it would feel pressed against your thigh.

Your face grew hotter at the thought.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" he asked, taking a step forward. You squeaked in surprise, an actual high-pitched sound leaving your lips, as you felt the hard surface of his vest pressing against your chest.

"It's just..." You hesitated, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. "You're standing really close..."

He glanced down at you, his eyes resting on your lips. "Do you want me to move?"

"I... uh..."

His eyes flickered back up to meet yours. "I'll take that as a no."

Before you could process his words, his hand reached up, fingers gently gripping your waist. You felt a rush of heat spread through you at his touch, the sensation seeping through your shirt and you found yourself leaning into him, your breath catching in your throat as his face hovered closely above yours.

It was happening. Your heart pounded in your chest as his lips drew closer. You couldn’t believe it, he was going to kiss you—Spencer-fucking-Reid was going to kiss you.

But just as his lips hovered dangerously close against yours, he suddenly stopped.

"Just to make this clear," he began, running a thumb along your side. "I respect you, both as a friend and a colleague. I don't want to force you into anything you're not comfortable with, so if you think this is pushing any boundaries then—"

"Spencer," you cut in. "Just kiss me already."

With a hint of relief and a small smile playing on his lips, he finally closed the gap between you.

You never imagined his lips could be so soft. He had the softest lips that moved against your own with a hint of coffee and something undeniably sweet. Those soft, soft lips parted away from yours for a moment before he leaned back in, more desperate, more needy. And when he swiped your bottom lip with his tongue, seeking entrance, you couldn't help but welcome him with a soft moan of pleasure.

He devoured you then, his tongue pushing eagerly into your mouth, his lips enveloping you with a hunger that left you breathless as he pressed himself against you. Before you could fully grasp what was happening, you were walking backward until your back collided with the solid surface of the desk. 

With strength you didn’t know he possessed, he effortlessly lifted you and perched you on top of it, prompting a surprised squeal to escape your lips. He laughed in response but you were too caught up in the moment to worry about whether he found you amusing. 

Your hands eagerly roamed over his chest, fingers curling around the strap of his vest as you pulled him closer. He slipped between your parted legs with ease and when he pressed his evident bulge against your core, you both gasped in pleasure.

"We should... we should probably stop, right?" he murmured, his voice muffled against your lips. Despite his words, his actions betrayed his self-control as he began to roll his hips against you.

“We're at work, someone might—” He groaned. “Someone might… hear us..."

He was right, but you found yourself unable to care about anything else but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your heat.

"We could stop, or..." you found yourself saying without thinking. Your hands moved with a mind of their own, finding their way between you as you started to unbutton your shirt, the fabric slipping away to reveal more of your skin. 

"Or..." He prompted, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip yet again, his breath coming out in shallow, ragged bursts.

"Or..." you repeated, pushing the front of your shirt open. "We could be quiet."

"We could be quiet," he agreed all too quickly. "We could definitely be quiet."

You let out an amused laugh. "We’re going to get in trouble if anyone finds us."

“Then you shouldn’t make a sound.”

“Me? What about—oh.”

His lips were already trailing down your body, leaving soft kisses as they lingered on your neck, across your collarbone, and then he moved lower, sucking lightly on the swell of your breasts. A whimper of his name escaped your lips, your fingers entwining in his hair.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes drinking at the sight of your breast pushed up against your bra, a glistening sheen of his saliva coating your skin.

“You are stunning,” he murmured, before leaning back in to place a tender kiss on the spot where your collarbone met your shoulder. “How far do you want to take this?”

You blinked, trying to ground yourself into the moment between the lust fogging your brain. “What do you mean?”

“This,” he muttered as he rutted his hips against yours, drawing a needy moan from you. “How far are you willing to go?”

“If you’re asking whether I want to have sex with you, the answer is a hundred percent yes.”

You could practically feel his smile on your skin as he buried himself in the crook of your neck.

“That’s good to know,” he whispered, causing you to arch your back as your chest pressed against the hard material of his vest. “But I don’t think we can do much considering we’re supposed to be working. Well, you at least.”

You grasped his shoulders, pushing him away to meet his gaze. “I thought we agreed to keep quiet.”

“We can keep quiet,” he assured you, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “But I can’t rush my time with you. Besides, you deserve a much better setting than an unoccupied office full of dust.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers trailing lightly along your jawline. “Maybe, but it’s more about time, really. I just want to take—” His lips brushed against your cheek. “My time—” A peck on your lips. “With you.”

You melted right there and then. You could’ve sworn you were nothing but a puddle mess. If he wasn’t holding you for support you were sure you could fall right back to the floor.

“Alright then,” you finally said, reaching for the buttons of your shirt with trembling hands only to be stopped as his fingers curled around your wrist.

“What are you doing?”

You shot him a puzzled look. “I thought you didn’t want to have sex right now.”

“I didn’t say anything about stopping,” he replied, releasing your hand before his palms slid up your thighs. “There are plenty of other things we can do.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks. “Like what?”

“Well, I guess we'll just have to get creative.”

Your breath hitched when his fingers hovered over the button on your pants. You watched with a mix of excitement and disbelief as he started to undo them, your mind turning into a mushy mess. It was as if every neuron in your brain had decided to stop working.

“Lift your hips for me.”

You met his gaze, trying to summon up your composure but you couldn’t help the nervous twitch of your lips. He smiled at you.

“Come on, pretty girl, we don’t have all day.”

Not only were you melting, but you were practically liquid by now. Your body moved on its own accord—your hands gripping his shoulders as you lifted your hips, synchronizing perfectly with his gentle movements to slide the material over your hips and down your legs.

He placed your pants on the empty space beside you while his eyes never left your body. His gaze lingered on the rise and fall of your chest, and he leaned in, his fingers trailing over your skin before settling on the hem of your panties. His thumb slid to the front, brushing along the delicate material. Your hips bucked as he continued to run his thumb up and down as if he were trying to map out your slick folds over the fabric.

“Look at you dripping,” he mused, his eyes fixated on the way his thumb slid over to your clit. “Are you always this wet?”

Your cheeks heated at the question. He wasn’t even trying to make it come off as dirty talk; he asked it like a normal question, as if he were simply wondering about what you ate for breakfast. But the question alone had your face burning because you did not expect it to come from him.

“I… I guess so.”

“You guess so?” he asked, his tone amused. He hooked his fingers into the material of your panties before pushing it to the side.

“I-I don’t know.” You let out a breathless moan when his fingers grazed your slit. “Whenever I’m turned on, I don’t... I don’t exactly touch myself just to check how wet I am.”

Spencer chuckled softly, angling his hand between your thighs before gently pushing his middle finger into your entrance. You gasped at the sudden stretch, brows furrowing as he pressed further, and your hand instinctively gripped onto his arm.

“Do you often touch yourself?”

Your head fell back as he started to move.

“M-Maybe,” you managed to stutter out.

"What do you think of when you do?" he asked slowly, his own breath starting to grow shallow as he watched your face contort in pleasure. He observed the way your mouth fell open, your tongue slightly slipping out in the corner, and the way your eyes shut closed. He was fascinated by the effect he had on you, on how just a simple touch had you squirming.

“A… a lot of things,” you managed to reply.

“Have you ever thought of me?”

Whoa.

The question caught you off guard, and you blinked, momentarily stunned.

This was dangerous territory, but then again, nothing seemed quite as risky as being fingered by your coworker on a Tuesday afternoon. So what harm could it be if you admitted that yes, in fact, he had crossed your mind when you touched yourself wishing it was his fingers instead?

A lot of harm, actually. One, it seemed like an inappropriate confession given your friendship. Friends don't usually imagine each other in sexual scenarios. And two, you could die of embarrassment.

"No," you replied, hoping your voice sounded more confident than you felt.

He hummed skeptically. “I thought we were past the point of lying between profilers.” With a pause, he added another finger inside you, causing you to bite down on your lip to stifle a moan. “Is this how you imagined it in your fantasies?”

What was the point of lying now? You swallowed hard, trying to think of a witty response to distract from the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

“Uh… This is slightly better.”

“Slightly? I’m hurt.” He pressed his thumb onto your clit. “What else did you think of then?”

Your cheeks flushed even more. “You… well, um, you also used your tongue.”

The airy laugh he let out sent a shiver down your spine. “Really? And how did that fantasy play out?"

Your heart raced as you tried to find the right words. "Let's just say it involved a lot more tongue action and a lot less talking."

His smile widened, and he leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear. “Then let’s reenact it.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you. “Lay on your back.”

With a shaky breath, you complied, sprawling out on the desk, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you. When he reached for the waistband of your panties, you couldn't help but crack a joke. "If I knew this was the direction this day was heading, I would've worn my fanciest underwear."

Spencer shook his head. “Trust me, you don't need fancy underwear to drive me crazy."

He then deftly removed your panties, his movements confident yet tender, like he was unwrapping a precious gift. When the fabric pooled at your ankle, he got down on his knees and parted your legs wider, positioning himself between them.

You watched, anticipation building, as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your inner thigh. Then, with a teasing glance, he pressed his lips to your skin, planting soft kisses along the trail of your inner thigh, inching closer to your core.

You shivered at the sensation and your heart raced with every kiss. His hands roamed over your thighs, tracing delicate patterns while his mouth brushed closer to where you craved him the most. You bit down your bottom lip, unable to contain the moan that escaped as his tongue flicked out, grazing your sensitive flesh.

This was definitely better than your fantasies, the ones you'd harbored in secret, too taboo to admit even to yourself. But here you were, living out those desires in the most deliciously real way possible.

You gasped as his tongue lavished your slit, tasting every inch, mixing your arousal that was beginning to drip from your core with his saliva. Your back arched off the desk, thighs trembling and when they threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag over your clit.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Somehow it felt like a dream, but everything was real. His face was right between your thighs; his mouth pressed against your cunt, his tongue lapping through your wet folds. And it wasn’t as simple as tasting you, he was eating you, devouring you, swallowing every drop of your arousal as if he couldn’t get enough of your taste.

You started to lose control of your mind, your body, your actions. Your hips bucked to meet his tongue, your jaw slackening as stifled moans spilled from your lips. And that was when you felt it—a faint vibration against your thigh. At first, you thought it was just the sensation of his touch, but then the loud, unmistakable loud ringtone of your phone shattered the moment.

"Shit!" You squealed, scrambling to grab your phone from your discarded pants. The last thing you needed was for someone to discover you in this compromising position.

"It's Emily—“ You pushed his head away, trying to hide your flushed face as he looked at you with surprise. His lips were glistened with your arousal and his hair seemed messier. God, he looked so pretty.

"Don't answer it."

"It might be important." With a pointed look, you silently urged him to keep quiet as you brought the phone to your ear with trembling fingers. “H-Hey... what's up?"

Emily's voice came through the line, slightly muffled by the sounds of commotion in the background. “Hey, I need you to review the report you submitted yesterday, you left a few details about the Unsub.”

Spencer's lips brushed against your inner thigh, sending a shiver down your spine, and you had to bite back a moan. You shot him a warning glare, mouthing ‘stop’ before turning your attention back to the call.

“Y/N? Are you listening?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “So… um, which report?”

"The case in Florida," your boss explained. "You mentioned that the Unsub was targeting women between the ages of 25 and 35…”

You were trying to listen, you really were, but it was hard when you felt his fingers ease into your cunt, your juices dripping out, coating his flesh as he curled them inside. You almost let out a whine as his thumb pressed to your clit, caressing in circular motions. 

“…he's also been stalking younger women."

Your eyes screwed shut as he sped up his pace. His touch was driving you crazy, and you could barely register the conversation over the sounds of your own arousal echoing in the room.

“Y/N.”

You snapped your eyes open, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you tried to concentrate on the call. "Uh, yeah, go on," you managed to stammer, hoping she didn't notice your wavering tone.

“Are you okay? You sound... off," Emily's voice cut through the haze of pleasure. You shot Spencer another pleading look, but he simply smiled at you with a hand still between your thighs and the other slipping underneath your bra.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, fighting against the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. "Uh, yeah, I… I-I’m doing my training.”

You mentally cursed yourself for the terrible excuse. Emily didn't seem entirely convinced. "Training?"

"Yeah, you know, the uh... firearm training? I-It’s Tuesday.”

There was a pause on the other end before she spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound like you're in pain."

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as his fingers curled inside of you. "No, no, I'm fine. Just... a little out of breath from all the… shooting."

Spencer let out an incredulous scoff, and you shot him a pointed glare.

“Are you with someone?”

You hesitated, racking your brain for a believable excuse, but all you could muster was a feeble, "Uh, nope.”

There was a pause on the other end, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken as your body flushed with heat. Meanwhile, Spencer seemed intent on torturing you, never stopping his pace. If anything, it seemed like his movements were increasing. Just when you thought you couldn't feel more exposed, another scoff echoed through your ear, this time from Emily.

“Alright, where are you really?” she pressed, her tone indicating she wasn't buying your flimsy excuse.

“I told you I-I’m doing my training.”

She laughed. “Y/N, we profile people as a job. I can sense your lie even through the phone.”

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. What was up with these profilers and their knack for sniffing out lies? You were one yourself, but apparently, you were no match for their scrutiny.

“I’m not—“ your words were cut short when he stood up, hovering above you. You looked up at him, smiling at you innocently as his fingers continued to curl deep inside you. You clutched his forearm with your free hand, attempting to steady yourself.

"I'm not lying," you managed to squeak out.

"Mhm," came Emily's voice from the other end. “Just come by my office and grab the report, okay?”

Your breath hitched as his fingertips delved deeper, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight of his hand moving between your legs, coated in your arousal with each thrust. You could feel your orgasm edging closer. Your hips moved in sync with his motions as the pressure built, the tension coiling tighter in your stomach and—

“Y/N!”

“Y-Yes, I’m… I’m coming.” Spencer's low chuckle filled your ears, and you realized what you'd unintentionally implied. Your eyes widened in embarrassment. “I mean, I-I’ll be there soon, okay, bye!”

You quickly slammed your phone down on the desk, ending the call with a thud. But before you could even take a breath, Spencer's fingers were back to their rapid pace, driving you to the edge of sanity. Your body staggered under his touch, your hips moving in sync with his relentless rhythm, the world outside the room fading away into a blur of pleasure.

"A-Ah—w-wait, fuck—"

You barely managed to utter a protest before his hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries of pleasure. Your back arched, your head thrown back as you tightened your grip on his wrist, your body writhing beneath him as your orgasm consumed you.

It lasted longer than you expected and Spencer seemed determined to push you over the edge as he shifted his attention from your cunt to your sensitive clit. His fingers withdrew momentarily, only to return with a renewed intensity, applying just the right amount of pressure.

Your senses were on overload as you moaned into his hand, the sound muffled but still audible. He worked you, over and over, and you didn't even know your body could take so much. Every stroke, every caress sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you, building up to an intensity that bordered on overwhelming.

Your legs shook uncontrollably as the sensations reached a fever pitch. It was all too much, too intense, and in a moment of desperation, you pushed his hand away. When the last tremors of your orgasm finally faded away, you collapsed back onto the desk, panting heavily, your limbs feeling like jelly. 

Spencer removed his hand from your mouth, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he watched you catch your breath. “Are you okay?" 

You nodded weakly. “Yeah, just… that was intense.”

“Good intense?”

“Really good intense,” you replied with a sheepish grin, which only made him smile. With shaky hands, you pushed yourself up from the desk, feeling a wave of satisfaction wash over you. As you began to dress yourself, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him—or rather, the evident bulge underneath his pants.

“That… that doesn’t look comfortable,” you remarked.

Spencer waved off your worry with a dismissive chuckle. “Don’t worry about me, I can take care of it myself.”

“Here? At work?” Your eyes widened at the implication. “I didn't know you had it in you.”

He cocked his head to the side. “That’s not what I meant. It’ll eventually go away if I ignore—stop staring at it,” he added with a laugh. “You’re not helping.”

Your gaze lingered a moment too long on his bulge. "I can think of another way to help.”

Spencer's breath caught in his throat, his imagination running wild with possibilities, but he quickly regained his composure. "Go," he said, gently nudging you towards the door once you were properly dressed. "Emily's waiting for you."

Your eyes swept over him and a wave of awkwardness suddenly washed over you. What was the protocol after experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life? Shake his hand? Give him a high-five? You couldn't help but stifle a nervous laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

After a brief moment of contemplation, you decided to trust your instincts. With a hint of hesitation, you stepped closer and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. He blinked in surprise, but before he could respond, you were already rushing to the door.

He couldn't help but smile as he watched you leave, a tingling sensation lingering on his cheek where your lips had briefly touched. But as he licked his lips absentmindedly, he couldn't shake the taste of your arousal that lingered there.

Groaning softly, he shifted uncomfortably as his mind filled with vivid images of you squirming under him; your mouth agape, eyes half-closed, your pretty legs spread apart. The memory of your moans echoed in his ears and his cock stirred in his pants. 

He sighed, realizing he was in for a long day if he didn't do something about it. With a slight grimace—and the embarrassment gnawing at him for what he was about to do—he let his feet carry him to the nearest bathroom.