#MASSIVE HEART EYES EMOJI

[esote-rika]

the memory of your lips | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: Flangst. Summary: At the end of a great date, you have to deal with the realities of dating a BAU agent. Content: Mentions of alcohol, reader is tipsy and flirty and LOVESICK, Spencer is a gentleman, kisses, no use of y/n, reader is called angel. I had s3 or 4 Spencer in mind when I was writing, but it works for any season.  Word count: 1.4k A/N: Here’s the fic for the Lovesick by Laufey (listen to it right here, PLEASE I BEG!!!) poll I did a while back. I know I originally planned for it to have smut, but I opted out because it didn’t feel right with the tone??? Anyways, this was just really fun to write, and I hope you enjoy! 

Three dates are an embarrassingly short amount of time to have fallen in love with someone, but in your defense, you have not encountered anyone quite like Spencer Reid in all your years of dating. 

Never have you met a man so intensely focused and attentive, so intelligent without any hint of pretense. His arrogance is founded, but he never used his genius to make you feel less; instead, he’s committed everything you’ve told him to memory, from your favorite book to the throwaway comment you made about liking a specific shade of lipstick. Two dates and he’s already memorized you like a poem. It’s exhilarating. 

This third date had been the one to seal the deal. 

Sure, the anxiety is still there, and it might have caused you to have one too many glasses of wine over dinner, but still. Everything had gone so beautifully. A stroll around the art gallery where Spencer had eagerly shared the history behind the paintings. When you’d paused at a particular hallway, he stood right by a window and was hit just so by the golden afternoon sun that his eyes turned to the color of moss, you could have sworn you’ve forgotten the ability to breathe. You’re convinced you were the walking equivalent to the heart eyes emoji at that point, staring up at him with a starry gaze, all throughout the following dinner at an intimate restaurant, where you allowed yourself to indulge in some wine. 

Not that you needed it. At that point, you felt so relaxed and at ease with him that you were afraid you might float away. The alcohol only served to heighten the giddiness, casting the world in soft hues of sparkling gold. Like Spencer’s eyes. Which reminds you—

“You’ve the prettiest eyes,” You’re giggling as he walks you to your door, a lean arm firmly wrapped around your waist  to steady you. Head angled up, all of your attention is on him while you walk up the stairs, which isn’t helping your stumbling gait in the slightest. 

Despite his attempts to fight it, a small smile pulls at his lips. He’s obviously trying to seem stern, but his eyes look upon you with fondness. “I should have cut you off sooner.”

“Mhm, no, I wouldn’t have let you.”

“You’re gonna feel this tomorrow,” he warns as he stops at your doorstep, “Keys.”

You fumble through your purse, quickly locating them and pressing the keys into his palm. He slots it easily into the lock, and turns. 

He hesitates. Your hands shake as you wait.

“Can I trust you to make it to your bed in one piece?” he murmurs, fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“Probably not. You might need to help me out,” you whisper, even though you’re not really that drunk. It’s a (very thinly veiled) attempt to get him inside your apartment, in your bed. You’re not sure where you got the confidence.

But it’s Spencer, the sweet man who frequents the same bookshop in which you also spend a lot of time. The same man who’d been so shy about making a move that he decided to buy you a book and slip his number into the pages. 

So there’s no pressure, he had scrawled in messy, rushed letters. Embarrassingly, the note is in your wallet, kept as a memento.

It’s him, and the entire date has been a series of signs that simply validated the small (massive) crush you’ve had on him. You don’t want it to end yet. Or ever, really. If he’d let you keep him forever. 

Ever the gentleman, he nods and guides you inside. You stumble onto your couch with a low groan, an arm flung over your eyes as the harsh overhead light flickers open. Quick, shuffling footsteps, and then the couch dips beside you.

“Here, have some water.”

You accept the glass with a lopsided smile. The way his eyes linger on you would be enough to make you melt when you’re sober, but right now, with alcohol coursing through your veins, it’s downright cruel. “Your eyes are so pretty.”

“You’ve mentioned that already,” he says, urging you to drink, “Thank you. You have very beautiful eyes too.”

Once the glass is empty, he sets it on your coffee table and kneels down. With gentle hands, he eases the heels off of your feet, fingers pressing into the ankles carefully. 

“Come on,” he helps you to your feet, and you all but become deadweight in his arms as he walks with you to your bedroom. 

Spurned mainly by alcohol, you lift yourself to your tiptoes for a kiss. His surprise makes him pause, but he kisses you back gently, hands coming up to cup your cheeks. It makes you sigh, this tender way he likes to kiss, cradling your face as though it’s the most important thing he’s ever held. When your tongue sweeps across his lower lip, he pulls back.

“What—”

“You’re drunk,” his lips move to your forehead, “You need to sleep.”

“But Spence…” it’s childish to whine when he denies you, but it’s the only thing your dejected, alcohol-addled brain is capable of doing.

He chuckles, slowly walking you backwards onto your bed. “No, angel, it wouldn’t sit right with me.”

“I’m giving you all my consent right now.” you pout as he hands you a disposable towel from your bedside table. With a huff, you set on wiping away your makeup as he rummages through your drawers for pajamas. He finds some shorts and an old tshirt, and helps you out of your dress, shaking his head as you try (and fail) to seduce him into sleeping with you.

“Shouldn’t have had that last glass if this was how you wanted the night to end.” he says,  a teasing smile on his lips.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?”

He kisses your temple as a response, and gently pushes you to lay down. Chuckling, he sits on the edge of your bed, a hand on your knee. “I just don’t want you to be inebriated if we’re going to be physically intimate. Especially not the first time.”

You pout, “Boo, you’re too sweet for your own good.” It earns you a laugh from him, and it’s enough to wipe the pout off your lips, “Will you at least sleep over?”

He seems to consider it, running his hand up and down your thigh. However, it is as though the universe is conspiring against you, and his phone rings. You watch as his brows furrowed in concern as he checks whatever message he’s received. “I have to go in, we have a case.”

Your heart drops. The pout returns, “It’s Friday night.”

“I know, angel.” he leans forward and kisses your forehead again, almost in apology, “I’m sorry, I did tell you I don’t work traditional hours.”

Your hands close around his shirt and you pull him down. He surrenders to your eagerness this time, kissing you deeply, hands tangled in your hair, before he stops, breathing ragged. “I’ll make it up to you when I return, I promise.” he kisses you again, languidly, savoring the last few moments before he has to leave. 

You don’t have his eidetic memory, but you memorize the feeling of his lips all the same. “Stay safe,” you whisper when he finally pulls back, feeling oddly sobered up now that the reality of him leaving you is more present, “Text me when you can.”

“I will, angel.” he gives you one last kiss on your forehead before he stands up, “Drink lots of water tomorrow, okay? I’ll see you soon.”

You nod, and stare at his retreating back with a sad smile, blinking away the tears when you hear your apartment door click into place, signaling his departure. You try to tell yourself you’re being silly. It’s been three dates and you’re already acting so clingy. You chalk it up to the alcohol, twisting your feelings. Earlier, it had made the world seem effervescent, but now that he’s left, it only exacerbates your loneliness.

Is this how it’s going to be when you date him? He’d laid it out quite clearly during your conversations, that sometimes they get pressing cases that require them to drop everything else.  You aren’t sure you’re prepared to have dates be interrupted with one phone call. Morning afters without him beside you. With a sigh, you sink into bed, eyes closed, and only the memory of his lips to tide you through the night.

[putellas14]

Friends to Lovers (An “It Was Only a Matter of Time” fic) - Alexia x Reader

Warnings: Explicit content. Minors DNI.

If you haven't read It Was Only a Matter of Time yet, I'd highly encourage you to read that first. This takes place between ficlet 1 and ficlet 2.

Alexia made it exactly 3 hours after you arrived in Ibiza. You'd landed a day after everyone else and so when you walked into the rental house, everyone was already outside enjoying the pool and recovering from a hangover from the night before. You saw Alexia in her bright red bikini sitting on the edge of the pool with Vir, talking. You'd texted her to let her know you were on your way from the airport and had gotten a string of hearts and kissy face emojis in response.

It was like she sensed you. As soon as you walked out of the house, her eyes snapped to you, and she faltered in her conversation. You awkwardly waved at her. This was the first time you two were seeing each other since the morning she left for Barcelona. And it was true, you had talked every day. But seeing her, here in the flesh, was so different from seeing her through a screen. You were less sure of yourself here. You didn't know if you could just rush to her and haul her into a hug. You didn't know if you should approach with a small kiss. You didn't know what steps to take to not make a fool of yourself in front of Alexia.

As if she could see the turmoil on your face, she stood, carefully walking along the edge of the pool towards safer ground. And then sprinted. Full force. Right into you. You had enough wherewithal to brace before she slammed into you, and were glad when you managed to stay upright.

"You made it!" she said, squeezing her arms around your shoulders, grin massive on her face.

"Hi, babe," you sighed into her neck, keeping your arms locked tight around her waist. She smelled incredible, like that rose body wash she had always preferred. Not like a girl who had been sitting, baking, out in the Spanish sun for hours.

She pulled back just enough to take your face in her hands and kiss you. You moved in perfect sync with each other. Her pushing, you pulling. As her tongue explored your mouth, you were both hit with freezing cold water. You jerked away from her.

"What the hell?" You glared at Leila, who was standing next to you holding an empty cup.

"Get a room," she tossed out.

"If you say so," Alexia said. She held out her hand to you, and when you took it, lacing your fingers together, she led you into the house. "Is this yours?" she asked pointing at the suitcase by the front door. You nodded and she took it in her other hand, rolling it behind her. "I'll show you where you're sleeping." The two of you walked through the house and down a flight a stairs, coming to a door at the end of the hall. She pushed opened the door and stepped through with you.

There was a beautiful view of the ocean from the room. You took in the simple room around you - the king size bed, small side tables, the large mirror in the corner propped against the wall, and a few bags, already sitting in the opposite corner.

"I figured we could share a room. I hope you don't mind," Alexia said nervously.

You obviously didn't mind sharing a bed with Alexia. The two of you had shared beds hundreds of times over the year. You were also logical enough to know that you and Alexia would probably end up having sex on this trip. Sharing a room, sharing a bed, wasn't something you were concerned about.

But it was the way Alexia was looking at you. Nervously, like she wasn't sure if she had overstepped some unspoken boundary. Your favorite little crease was forming between her eyes as she watched you.

Not wanting her worry to drag on, you brought your linked hands up to your lips and pressed a kiss to her fingers. "Wouldn't have it any other way," you said, looking at her over the top of clasped hands. "Here, let me," you said gently, gesturing towards your bag. Taking it from her, you put it on the bed and unzipped it. You'd packed your swimsuits on top, knowing today was a pool day.

"I'll wait outside," Alexia said.

You didn't say anything, just let her go. You weren't shy, and the both of you had been in locker rooms with each other for years. But things were different now. Maybe that meant the rules were different too. You didn't think too hard about that. There was time to figure all that out still. A lifetime if you had your way.

You changed quickly into the emerald green bikini you had bought for this trip. It left very little to the imagination, leaving all your muscles on perfect display. Looking at yourself one more time in the mirror, you shut your suitcase and moved it off the bed.

Alexia was leaning back against the wall waiting for you when you stepped out into the hall. One of her long legs was bent, her foot resting against the wall under her. She let her eyes slowly work up you, taking in every detail that was now on full display. Your body had changed since you'd moved to England. Where before you were skinny, now your muscles had filled out. You no longer looked like a kid but had become a woman.

"This might be the best swimsuit you've ever worn," Alexia said.

"Thanks. It's new." You reached out to touch her hip. "Ready to go back to the pool?"

"In a minute." She looked up at you expectantly, waiting for you to catch the hint that she wanted another kiss. Smiling at her, you leaned down, letting your lips find hers. But only for a second.

"Last one to the pool has to make the bed all week," you said quickly, running in the direction of the pool.

"Cheater!" Alexia yelled, running after you.

You let Alexia win, grabbing her around the waist and canon-balling into the pool with her. She came up, sputtering and pushing her wet hair out her face. You grinned at her, your face already hurting from how wide your smile was.

"You asshole!" She pushed your shoulder and when you just laughed in response, she went for your head, dunking you under the water.

You took the opportunity while you were down there to graze your fingers over her thighs. She let you go almost immediately and you floated back to the top.

"Even?" you asked.

She just nodded at you, eyes wide, mouth slightly slack.

"You want something to drink?" you asked, swimming to the side and hoisting yourself out of the pool. You glanced down at Alexia and found her staring. "Babe? You want a drink?

Alexia dunked her head back under the water for a moment. When she came back up, she closed her eyes, tipping her head back to sweep her hair off her face. "I'll take a beer," she said, not opening her eyes yet.

"You got it." You went in search of the cooler. You found it tucked away in a shaded spot of the patio. Opening it, you dug around, looking for something you knew Alexia would like.

"Y/L/N," Vir said.

"Vir, hi. How you doing?"

"Better now that Ale is better." There was something sharp in the way she said it.

You grabbed the two beers and straightened, closing the lid of the cooler. "We cool?" you asked cautiously.

"We will be if you never break her again."

Your heart pounded in your chest. Tears burned the back of your eyes, an immediate response that you had no control over. Thinking about the last year, your heart hurt. For yourself and for Alexia. You both had wasted so much time. Had hurt each other so much.

"I love her, Vir. She's it for me." You looked across the patio, where Alexia had pulled herself out of the pool and was laying on a chair next to Leila. "I'll never break her again," you said with as much conviction as you could muster when your heart was in your throat. "At least on purpose. Because if I do, it'll break me too."

Satisfied with that, Vir nodded and left you standing there. You took a minute to yourself. The year without Alexia had been such a dark time for you. You had survived, finding people in London that you cared for deeply. But no one had filled the Alexia-shaped hole that was ingrained in your soul. No one could ever fill that hole other than Alexia. She'd been it for you since you were teenagers and now that you had her, you weren't ever letting her go.

Not intending on wasting any time, you went back over to her, pulling a chair closer to her. You held the beer bottle out to her. "Here you go."

She smiled at you, taking the bottle. Studying your face, she scrunched her eyebrow and reached out to rub a hand over your shoulder. You knew how tight it probably felt. "Everything okay?"

You looked at her, taking in everything about her face. The way the crease on the left side of her smile was deeper but longer on the right side. The way her eyes held yours, waiting for you, nothing but gentleness and kindness in those big beautiful brown eyes. The way her smile started to falter the longer you sat there, not saying anything. How had you ever let this break? This woman knew every bit of you and had shown up every day for you.

"All good, gorgeous," you finally managed. You dropped a kiss to her collarbone. "Ready to get this vacation going," you said easily. You turned in your chair, stretching out your legs in front of you.

"You're too far," she whined. Instead of waiting for you to move, she put a hand under your chair and pulled it towards her until your chairs were right next to each other, no space left between you. People shouted across the patio at her for causing such an abrupt loud noise.

"Well alright then," you said with a small laugh. You tipped your head back, letting it rest against the chair and closed your eyes, intending on taking a nap.

You made it 5 minutes. A hand landed on your leg. Your eyes snapped open and you looked down. Slowly, torturously slowly, it slid toward the middle of your thighs. Alexia's hand stopped just short of where you wanted her, just pushing on the boundaries of what their friends would likely tolerate from them. You glanced at her, eyes wide, but she was completely engrossed in her conversation with Leila. When her fingers flexed into your thigh, you bit back a groan. You adjusted your hips, trying to squeeze your thighs together without drawing any attention. You needed to relieve some of the pressure that was so quickly building. You saw the corner of Alexia's lip turn up into a smirk.

You barely registered Leila stand up, your mind hyper-focused on the hand between your legs. Alexia turned her body towards you, dragging her hand across the top of your thigh to rest in the space between you.

"Ale, what are you doing?" you whispered.

"Nothing," she said innocently. "Can't I touch my girlfriend if I want?"

"Yeah. On my head, my arms, my chest, whatever. But not there!" you hissed. "We're surrounded by our friends."

Alexia straightened, leaning her weight on her hands so she could get closer to you. "Just making sure we're ready for lunch."

"How is that going to help me get ready for lunch?"

"You're the lunch," she whispered. She pressed a kiss below your ear, letting her tongue touch the sensitive skin there.

Every nerve in your body short circuited. "Jesus." You looked around to make sure no one could hear your conversation. This was a new side of Alexia that you had never seen before. If you weren't already so attracted to her, the boldness would've sent you spiraling over the edge.

Alexia smirked, letting one of her fingers trail up your arm. This time you let the groan out rather than biting it back.

"Ale, it's a while before lunch. Keep your hands to yourself or I'm going to end up embarrassing both of us."

"Yeah, don't care." She moved closer, her body almost covering yours. Her chest met yours, wet bikini tops slightly sticking together. She cupped your cheek, looking at you for a minute. "I love you, Y/N." And then she kissed you. She pushed your shoulder back and moved to straddle your hips.

"Nope." You broke the kiss, pushing her backwards. "Nope, we're not doing it like this. Like two horny teenagers who can't wait."

"We've waited so long, baby." Alexia dropped her forehead to yours. "I can't wait any longer."

You'd thought about this, Alexia desperate and nearly begging. But this was wrong. You were in public. Your friends were around. You might already have a small pool forming between your legs, but you weren't going to let Alexia go further right now. Not this first time. Not when you'd both already waited so long.  

"Just a little while longer, gorgeous, and then I'm yours." You pulled her back into you for a brief kiss. But it was full of heat. Full of promise. "How about you sit here with me for a bit? I haven't gotten to spend nearly enough time just holding my favorite girl." You could tell Alexia liked that. She turned, positioning herself between your legs and melted back into you. You let your hands settle around her and pressed a few kisses to the side of her head.

And if over the next hour, you let your hands wander a bit, you told yourself you were just getting her back for working you up earlier.

The girls went inside about an hour later, needing time to get ready for their lunch. They had booked a private patio for a new poke place on the island. You and Alexia stayed curled on that chair.

When they were leaving, Vir came out to make sure you didn't want to go with them. You both smiled and politely declined. Vir gave you a look, like she knew why you were declining lunch, but left you behind anyways.

The house had been quiet for ten minutes before Alexia stood and held her hand out to you. You knew what it was, an offer to keep going or not. But you'd never been more sure of anything before. You wanted Alexia. Had been wanting her for a long time. You took her hand, lacing your fingers with hers. She pulled you up off the chair, giving you a kiss.

You had barely closed and locked the door to your bedroom before Alexia was attacking your mouth. You wrapped both arms around her waist to pull her closer. The movement brought her to her toes. You walked her backwards, until her knees hit the edge of the bed. Not wanting to break the kiss, you gripped her waist tighter and hurled both of you backwards on the bed. She moved backwards until her head hit pillows, dragging you with her deeper into the bed.

You started to wander down her body. Pressing your lips to her collarbone. The slight whimper let you know she liked that and you filed that information away for later. Years of thinking about her under you and now that she was here, you were starved for her. The edges of your brain were already going foggy, and you forced yourself not to pass out. Forced yourself to pay attention.

Running your tongue along the edge of her swimsuit top, you reached under her to untie the tiny string holding the bikini in place. In every scenario you'd run through of this in your head, none of them included peeling Alexia out of a tiny little bikini. You scraped your teeth lightly over the sensitive skin.

Alexia's hands came up, cupping the fabric to her and she moved back a little, breaking the contact between you.

"Hey," you said, sitting back slightly. You put a hand on her cheek. She leaned into the touch. "Are you okay?" Worry was settling in. Had you hurt her? Had she changed her mind? It was okay if she had. You wouldn't push her to do anything she didn't want to do.

She reached out, resting a hand on your chest. Her eyes were searching your face, for what you didn't know. "Have you ever done this before?" she asked quietly.

"No. I was waiting for you," you said honestly. She gave a small smile at that.

"I'm scared I'm going to do it wrong," she admitted. "Scared you won't like it."

"Baby, there's no right or wrong here. Just tell me if there's something you don't like or something you want. And I'll do the same. Okay?" you asked gently. "I'm already a mess for you."

"Really?" she asked, bewilderment clear in her tone. Her eyes skimmed down your body.

"Really. Look at me, babe." You waited until Alexia's eyes met yours again. You could still see the fear behind those beautiful brown eyes. "We can stop anytime you want."

"I don't want to stop. I'm just scared."

"We'll talk each other through it, just like we talk each other through everything else." Alexia nodded. "Can I please get back to what I was doing?" Alexia nodded again. "I love you." You leaned down to kiss her, waiting for her to settle again. Eventually her arms relaxed, the hand on your chest moving around your body to rest on your back.

You moved back to her chest, trailing open mouth kissies as you went. "Can I take this off?" you asked, hooking a finger under one of the strings. She looked up at you again, that fear still evident on her face. But she nodded. And that trust, that willingness to go forward despite her fear, made your heart turn in circles. Because her ewas Alexia, literally baring herself whole to you. You'd both seen every corner of each other's souls and this was the last barrier between you. Drawing the swimsuit away from her body, you took a minute to just look at her. She was so beautiful. Instinctively, her hands came up to cup herself again.

"Let me," you said, moving her hands to replace with your own. She didn't protest. Progress. Her nipples were already hard, pressing into the pads of your hands. Her hips involuntarily jerked under you when you rubbed your thumbs over the tips. "Okay?"

"That feels good," she said, watching your every move. 

Pushing her, you leaned down and took one of her nipples into your mouth. Your own stomach was filled with a thousand butterflies. Alexia tasted so good. You let yourself just feel her, flicking your tongue over her nipple a few times, seeing how she responded. With your hand, you gently massaged her other boob. You felt her fingers grip the hair at the base of your neck. You dragged your mouth to her other nipple, wanting to give it the same attention, encouraged by Alexia's reaction.

Needing to feel more of her, you moved your hand down her body, skimming her waist, her hip, and stopped at the top of her bikini bottom. "Can I?" you asked, looking up to meet her eyes. Your voice was thick, and you barely recognized yourself. She nodded once, her eyes unfocused, her lips parted, that crease evident between her eyes like she was trying to focus and failing.

Sitting back on the bed, you were careful not to break all physical contact with her. One hand stayed on her stomach. You were trying to make sure she stayed grounded in this moment. For now.

Swallowing, you ran a finger over the space where the fabric met the top of her thigh. She sucked in a breath. Testing, you tried it on the other leg as well. Same reaction. You trailed her finger to the top band, where fabric met her stomach.

"Y/n/N." You looked up. She was looking at you through hooded eyes. Don't pass out, you reminded yourself. "Can I see you?" she asked quietly, her hand moving up your side to play with your bikini top. She sat up, her hips shifting away from your hands. "I need to feel you." She waited, patiently, for you to nod at her before carefully untying the strings. You let the top fall away. Alexia's eyes moved hungrily over you.

"Fuck," she whispered. Your eyebrows shot up. Alexia rarely swore. "You're too beautiful, Y/n/N, it's driving me crazy." She leaned into you and greedily took one of your nipples into her mouth.

"Shit," you breathed out, hooking an arm around her shoulders to hold yourself up. You were certain your knees were going to give out any second. Her mouth on your skin was so much warmer than you anticipated, so much warmer in comparison to her colder hands. Her mouth was wet, creating a sensation that was wholly unfamiliar to you. Now you understood why Alexia had such a reaction to your earlier. You could feel yourself getting wetter every second that she worked your nipples between her hands, her lips, her teeth, her tongue.

Needing to see if you were having the same effect on her, you trailed your hand back down her stomach. This time you didn’t let the fabric stop you, instead moving back in, down between her legs, to the heat. The front of her swimsuit was soaked against the back of your hand. You moved your fingers down, trying to decipher what you were feeling while Alexia continued wreaking havoc on your chest. She was so warm, so wet, and when you accidently grazed her clit, she jerked so hard against you that you pulled your hand out.

"Are you okay?" you rushed out.

"More than okay. I need you to touch me, baby, I can't wait anymore."

Fuck. That was all you could think. No fantasy you'd had over the years had even come close to the real girl. Keeping your eyes on hers, you moved your fingers back down, through the heat, the wet. You tried to push one finger into her. And now you really were on the verge of passing out. Nothing had ever come close to the feel of Alexia squeezing around your finger.

"You're gonna have to move it, baby."

"Uh, right," you said, momentarily embarrassed that you had just stuck your finger in her and left it there. Refocusing, you leaned down to kiss her neck as your hand got to work. You moved in and out her slowly, your thumb starting to rub slow circles on her clit. Her hips were rolling into your hand with each movement. You bit down, maybe too hard, when you felt her fingers move into your bikini and through your folds. "Fuck, Ale." You bucked against her hand. "God, you feel so good."

She kissed you, hard, as you both kept moving your fingers, kept pulling different reactions, exploring each other's bodies for the first time. You were having a hard time holding on, a hard time focusing. But you couldn't stop, not when Alexia's body was moving under yours, when she was clearly getting closer to the edge.

Your entire body was tightening and you used what little willpower you had to keep yourself up on your knees. You'd never had an orgasm in this position and you were desperately afraid your body was going to give out and collapse on top of Alexia any second.

"Ah, shit," Alexia said, burying her face in your shoulder. "I can't hold on much longer."

"Let go, Ale." You circled your fingers around her clit, trying desperately to give her what she needed. Alexia's head fell backward just a second before her entire body started quaking. And when she let out the filthiest moan, your stomach tightened and the orgasm ripped through you. You tried to keep your fingers moving, to help her through her own orgasm but you blacked out for a second, collapsing down.

You came to with the feel of her fingers drifting up and down your back. Gently. Too gentle in comparison to what had just happened. You shifted so your weight wasn't fully on her, and propped yourself up your elbow to look down at her.

"You look pleased with yourself," you said, taking in the closed eyes, the softened features, the smirk.

"I made you pass out," she said. Opening her eyes, she looked up at you, cocky smirk still on her face. You buried your face in her neck, embarrassed beyond words. "Oh, I'm never letting you forget that one," she said, laughing.

And then you were teenagers again, laughing at each other, with each other, rolling over the bed as you tickled each other. You tickled the space under her ribs that was most sensitive. "Say mercy," you said as her laughter grew to silence and strangled breathing.

"Mercy mercy mercy," she said, throwing up both hands. 

"That's what I thought." You had ended up side by side. Rolling onto your elbow again, you rubbed a finger over the band on her bikini. She sucked in a breath, the air in the room immediately changing. "Can I take these off now?" She gave you permission and you slipped your fingers into the band to pull them down her legs. "God, you're so beautiful."

Alexia's hands went to your bikini. "Off," she sighed. You wiggled your hips, pulling them off and throwing them on the floor.

You leaned over, trailing your lips from her shoulder to her neck to her jaw, stopping to nibble just under her ear. "I need to taste you, Ale. Do you trust me?"

"With my life," she said.

You wrapped an arm around her waist and rolled until she was on top of you.

"Wha-?"

"Sit on my face," you said, more confidently than you thought you'd feel asking her for what you so desperately needed.

"I- Are you sure?"

Cupping her face in both your hands, you kissed her, tongues and teeth, messy, just bordering on the edge between so fucking good and too messy. "I want you to sit on my face. I'll take care of you, baby," you promised.

You could see the fear in her eye but also the curiosity, the excitement. Tapping her hips, you helped her get settled above you. She hovered over you, just out of reach. You could feel the heat of her on your chin and your mouth watered.

"Won't I crush you?"

"I'll let you know if I need to tap out." You wouldn't need to but if it reassured Alexia, you would promise her anything. Dragging your hands up her thighs, you settled them on her ass. "Ready?" Alexia gave the smallest nod and you yanked, pulling her flush down on top of you. Her hands flew to the top of the headboard to hang on.

Using your whole tongue, you licked from her entrance all the way up to her clit in one broad stroke. "You taste amazing," you sighed into her. You let your tongue explore, sliding up and through her folds, over the sensitive bundle of nerves that was already jerking. Closing your lips over her clit, you let your tongue swirl around it a few times before returning to the flat broad strokes. Alexia's taste was intoxicating.

Alexia gasped above her, one of her hands coming down to play with her chest. You glanced up, burning the image of Alexia into your mind. You moved her other hand to her chest as well, encouraging her to give into the feeling fully.

You continued your work, moving to pay her clit some attention before sliding your tongue down further, sliding into Alexia. Alexia was talking above you, no coherent sounds coming from her. You gripped her tighter as you felt her start to slide, her muscles clearly having turned to Jello above you.

You had one goal and one goal only - make Alexia fall completely apart.

Anything that pulled an extra twitch or moan out of Alexia got extra attention. When it started to become too much, Alexia reached down and grasped your hair, holding it tight. You slid your tongue back into her and Alexia moved her hips, fucking herself on your tongue.

It's how you knew she had finally given in. She wasn't worried about anything but pleasure now. And that drove you crazy. You squeezed your own thighs together, feeling the slick spread around your thighs. When Alexia's thighs tightened around your head, you dove deeper, trying to pull everything she had to offer, every bit of pleasure she had in her, out to the surface.

"Baby, I'm gonna cum." She said it like a warning.

You figured you weren't working hard enough if she was still saying full sentences. You drew away from her, letting air move between you. She whined at the loss of contact. Moving your hand between her legs, you pushed two fingers into her without warning and attacked her clit with your tongue. You set a furious pace, intent on making her lose her mind.

"Baby," she whined. Her hips were moving fast, trying to keep up with the pace you had set, that you weren't letting her out of. As her movements became messier, your own pleasure grew. Finally. She was giving in to you, to herself, to this feeling you were creating together.

The orgasm took you both by surprise, moving into her so fast it left her breathless, gasping. You fucked her through it, letting your fingers slow but giving her something to clench onto. You gave yourself the pleasure of licking through her a few more times as you withdrew your fingers. She whined again, pushing your head back.

"Too sensitive?" you asked. She nodded, unable to speak. Success. Wrapping an arm around her waist, you brought her down to lay next to you. When you could feel her eyes back on you, you lifted your fingers, the ones still covered in Alexia, to your mouth and sucked them clean. "Damn, Ale, you taste good," you moaned.

"Jesus," she said, when she could breathe again. "You're trying to kill me."

"Can't have that. We're just getting started."

"Oh obviously. I haven't even had my lunch yet."

The laugh was automatic. You didn't know how the both of you had managed it, but in your first time together, you'd found the balance between sexy and best friend, between breathy moans and laughter, between coming apart and coming together. It shouldn't have surprised you. You two had always been in sync with each other.

"I just need a minute," she said, sliding a hand up your thigh to rest at your waist. You bit your lip to keep the moan from escaping. Pleasing Alexia had turned you on so much you weren't sure how long you could hold on. But you wanted to. For her. For her to get the same pleasure of tasting you for the first time.

After her allotted minute, she turned her head to look at you, leaning her head towards you for a kiss. She grabbed your jaw in her hand, holding you in place, groaning as the taste of herself hit her tongue. Her hand moved down, stopping to squeeze one of your boobs before continuing down over toned abs to your heat. When her finger slid through, she broke the kiss.

"You're so wet," she said in fascination.

"That's what you do to me, babe."

"Oh my god." She moved her fingers through your slick folds a few times, unable to believe this was because of her. You moved your hips into her hand, trying to get her to touch you where you wanted. "Aren't you a needy girl?"

"I need you, Ale." You were on the verge of begging. "Please."

Alexia moved down the bed, positioning herself between your legs. You widened your legs for her, giving her room. She used two fingers to spread you open and used the flat of her tongue to swipe through you, causing your eyes to roll back in your head.

"Fuck, that feels so good."

"You taste incredible." She moved her tongue through you slowly, deliberately. You looked down to find her looking up at your face, which nearly sent you over the edge. She reached up for your hand, lacing her fingers with yours over your stomach. "Relax, baby," she mumbled when you strained against her.

Keeping her eyes on yours, she put her mouth back to work. But this time, there was nothing soft about it. Now she was devouring.

Her tongue moved quickly, searching, swirling, her lips closing over your clit to suck. You had lost your mind. The heat had spread throughout your entire body. Her tongue pushed into you, and you moaned, completely at her will.

It wasn't perfect. You were still learning each other. But it was so fucking hot. Alexia was eating you like it was her job. And she had always been really devoted to her job.

"Ale, don't stop. Don't - ah." Your body bowed back, your hand going up to grip the pillow below your head. She whined into you when your muscles tightened around her tongue. You was so close, barely hanging on. "I'm so close."

Alexia continued the same movements until you fell apart, your legs fighting to stay open and not kill Alexia between your thighs, your entire body pulsing. Alexia's moans vibrating against your clit making it more intense.

"God that was so fucking hot," she said when your body stopped shaking. She crawled up, hovering over you. "You're incredible." She leans in and kisses you, the taste of yourself on her tongue sweet. "You okay?"

"Perfect." You tipped your face back towards her, needing her to keep kissing you. She kissed, cupping your face to hold you to her.

When your body calmed down, you rolled off the bed. Alexia stared at you, nerves clear on her face. You leaned over and gave her a small kiss. "Give me a minute."

Not caring that you were completely naked, you walked out of the room to the bathroom across the hall and got a washcloth. You turned on the faucet, waiting for the water to warm and wet it, wringing out the extra water.

In the bedroom, Alexia was still laying on the bed, waiting for you. You nudged her legs apart and cleaned her up. She stared up at you in awe. You used the same washcloth to quickly clean yourself. Dropping it near the door, you climbed back onto the bed and pulled Alexia into you. You let your hands wander, left small kisses on her shoulder, her forehead, the side of her head. These touches weren't to turn her on. These touches were to comfort. To keep you connected.

She pulled the blanket from the bottom of the bed and covered both of you. Tucking her head into the curve of your neck, she threw her arm around your waist.

"I need a nap," she mumbled. "And then we're doing that again."

[gublernatural]

Hiii! I absolutely love your writing and I was wondering if you could write something about Spencer reid and reader who have just started dating and they get into their first ever argument and it’s a bit angsty but cute(?) cause he gets all worried while reader is more experienced in the relationship department so she (or gn!reader, your choice) doesn’t worry as much cause she knows it doesn’t mean they’re over? And then he gets all pouty and clingy when they make up cause he hated being far from her sm🫶 I know its very specific and idk weird so its totally okay if you don’t wanna write it but I’d really appreciate it!!!

as an insecure certified lover girl i love this request and i am so sorry it took me so long to get to <3

spencer was not expecting you to leave. to argue, to complain, even to berate, but to leave? the thought the didn’t even cross his mind.

the argument had started over something stupid, probably like a teasing remark that had gone too far, or the fact that he had been nagging you about doing the dishes. he wasn’t sure. all that filled his mind now was the fact that you walked out the door and slammed it behind you. he wasn’t sure where you went to, or if you were coming back.

yet, he was frozen in place. his knees had begun to shake as tears started to well up in his eyes. for a genius, you are really fucking stupid, he thought. he couldn’t believe he blew things with you, already.

you two hadn’t officially been together long. only around 3 months, but had spent much more time together prior to that. he was truly falling for you, something he wasn’t expecting to do. he loved the way you laughed and the way you listened to him. he loved that you were always there to greet him with a wide smile and a tight hug when you he came back from cases. he loved being around you and he loved the positive energy you put out.

and he just ruined all of that over some stupid argument.

spencer was rarely one to be unsure. after all, he is a genius, so there wasn’t many things he didn’t know. but, standing alone in front of his apartment door, he was clueless. should he run after you? should he wait it out? should he start packing up all of the things you’ve left at his apartment over these three months? he didn’t know.

so, like with most things he didn’t know, he was going to research. sure, to the common person googling “what to do after a fight with your girlfriend” would be corny, maybe even a little dumb, but not to spencer. when he couldn’t figure stuff out, he found other sources that could. so that’s what he was trying to do now.

much to spencer’s dismay, he was met with a whole bunch of editorials. not a single academic paper, dissertation, or research project had been conducted on the topic. so, he took what he could get and began reading over the newest People Magazine article titled “steps to making your girlfriend happy after being a bad boyfriend”.

he wasn’t sure how long he’d been reading, or how many different pop culture magazine websites he’d accidentally signed up for on his old desktop by the time his phone rang. it startled him, but he moved quickly to get it, assuming it was hotch calling him to come in for a case.

his heart sped up but his stomach dropped when he saw your first name, with the little otter emoji next to it. you had picked it, spencer didn’t even know there was an otter emoji.

his thumb slid over the answer button as quickly as he could move it, but once he brought the phone up to his ear, spencer couldn’t find any words.

the line was silent for a minute. you weren’t sure if he was even breathing on the other side. you wanted to give yourself time to cool off, separate from spencer. his little remark about your poor cooking skills had gotten to you, and you didn’t want it to become a massive argument. you didn’t know that spencer had spiraled after you left.

“are you going to come over or what?” you couldn’t help but let the residual anger you were holding slip out. despite this, spencer’s breath caught in his throat. you heard him take a deep exhale before saying, “you want me to come over?”

the desperation in his voice was so apparent, it broke your heart. any anger you were holding onto, or any bitterness about the comment he made completely wiped away when you heard spencer’s voice. you guessed that he had probably been crying. you softened your tone, and spoke slowly as you answered him, “of course i want you to come over, spence. we don’t get to have two sleepovers in a row very often.”

spencer’s hand was shaking as he listened to your words. he thought for sure you were going to break up with him. all he said was, “i’m on my way.” before hanging up.

you shouldn’t have been surprised at spencer throwing himself in your arms when you opened the door for him. he always craved physical touch, despite his fear of germs. he knew you and he cherished you, and all he wanted was to be close to you.

your hand snaked around his back as he buried his head in your shoulder. you tried to pretend you couldn’t feel the tears escaping from him. he wasn’t sobbing, there was just other way for him to have the emotional release he needed than to allow his tears to fall. your hand rubbed lovingly over his back, letting him adjust to being back with you.

“i’m so sorry,” he muttered against you. his hands were balled up between you two and you could feel him nervously squeezing his fists tighter. “spencer, it’s okay,” you assured.

you pulled away from him, only to wipe his tears away and move his hair out of his face. despite his height, he looked so tiny and vulnerable. “i didn’t mean to upset you,” he whined. “it’s okay,” you repeated, grabbing his hand to move him to the sofa.

you sat across from him, but he stared at the floor. “i thought you were breaking up with me,” he muttered. his voice was quiet and gentle. you couldn’t help but laugh at his statement. “why would i do that?” you moved closer to him, tucking his hair behind his ear to get him to look at you. “i-i don’t know! you just left and you were angry and i thought you weren’t coming back,” tears were filling up his eyes again as he finally met your gaze.

“spence,” you cooed, “couples fight and sometimes they need space. a little argument like that is nothing. we’re okay,” you promised him. he nodded, then reached out to pull you into his chest. “i don’t like when you storm out like that,” he said. “‘m sorry,” you mumbled against him. he just nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

[kittenan2]

Tuna Temptress

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader (Cursed Princess!Reader) Genre: Fantasy, Romantic Comedy, Smut, Crack, Fluff Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI) Warnings: Explicit sexual content, accidental marriage, magical chaos, nudity, bickering, dirty talk, playful dominance, oral (f & m receiving), riding, magical quirks during sex (e.g., purring, water bursts), mild exhibitionism (beach scene), language, alcohol mention, Jin being a flustered himbo, Reader being a sassy ex-tuna, mild jealousy. Kinks: Accidental arousal, playful teasing, magical sex consequences, “fish wife” energy, light dom/sub dynamics, intense foreplay, praise. Word Count: ~3k Summary: You’re a sea princess cursed to live as a tuna until someone marries you for love. Enter Kim Seokjin, a food vlogger who jokingly proposes to you on a livestream. The curse breaks, you’re human (and naked) in his bathtub, and now you’re his accidental wife. Chaos, bickering, and steamy love ensue as you navigate land life and your new “marriage.”

Kim Seokjin was not having a great day. His fishing vlog was bombing, his subscribers were roasting his new haircut (“You look like a sexy alpaca,” one comment read), and the fish weren’t biting. Desperate for content, he stood on the pier, holding up a massive bluefin tuna he’d barely managed to reel in after an hour of cursing.

“This,” Jin declared to his livestream, winking at the camera, “is the sexiest sea sausage you’ll ever see. Look at that thicc tail. I’m in love.” The chat exploded with laughing emojis and “JIN NO” comments. On a dare from a subscriber promising a $50 donation, he doubled down. “You know what? I’m gonna marry this fish. Will you, Madame Tuna, take me as your lawfully wedded husband?”

The crowd roared. Jin smirked, expecting viral fame. What he didn’t expect was the sky to crack open like a bad CGI movie. Lightning flashed, the wind howled, and the tuna—you—vanished in a swirl of glittery mist. The livestream cut out. The chat went wild: “DID JIN JUST SUMMON A DEMON?”

Jin stumbled home, convinced he’d hallucinated from too much sun and cheap beer. “I need a nap and therapy,” he muttered, kicking off his sandals.

That night, Jin was mid-lotion routine—shirtless, humming a song, looking like a snack—when he heard a splash from his bathroom. “Did I leave the tap on?” he grumbled, grabbing a towel. He pushed open the door and froze.

There you were. A woman. Naked. Glistening. Sitting in his bathtub, eating his lavender conditioner like it was yogurt. Your hair was a wild tangle of sea-salted waves, your eyes wide and otherworldly, and your skin shimmered faintly, like you’d been dipped in pearl dust. You were also, very obviously, not a fish.

“WHAT THE FU—” Jin screamed, throwing the towel at you. It landed on your head. You blinked, unfazed, and kept licking the conditioner bottle. He slipped on a wet tile, flailing. “WHO ARE YOU? WHY ARE YOU EATING MY HAIR PRODUCTS?”

You tilted your head, voice regal but confused. “Where’s my kingdom? And why is this potion so bitter?” You spat out a glob of conditioner, frowning. “Mortal alchemy is disgusting.”

Jin clutched the doorframe, heart racing. “Mortal? Kingdom? Lady, this is my apartment! How did you get in here?”

You stood, water cascading down your body, and Jin’s brain short-circuited. He averted his eyes, face redder than a lobster. “Towel! Use the towel!” he yelped.

You ignored him, stepping out of the tub with the grace of a queen, conditioner bottle still in hand. “You broke my curse, human. You proposed. I am your wife.”

Jin choked. “My WHAT?”

You stepped closer, and he backed into the sink, knocking over a soap dispenser. You sniffed him, then licked a stripe of salt off his neck, your tongue warm and startlingly soft. “You taste like the sea,” you murmured approvingly.

Jin squeaked, shoving you back. “NO LICKING! I’m calling the cops!”

He grabbed his phone, but it sparked and transformed into a wriggling trout. He dropped it, screaming again. “WHAT IS HAPPENING?”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “The curse binds us. You cannot escape your vow. I am Y/N, Princess of the Cerulean Depths, cursed to swim as a tuna until a mortal wed me for love. You said the words. Now, I am human. And yours.”

Jin slid down the wall, head in hands. “I proposed to a fish. For clout. This is my life now.”

The next morning, Jin woke up praying it was a dream. No such luck. You were sprawled across his bed, wearing his oversized Gucci hoodie (and nothing else), munching on a bag of sea salt chips you’d raided from his pantry. “These are acceptable,” you declared, crumbs dusting your chin like edible glitter.

Jin groaned, rubbing his temples. “You can’t just eat my snacks and claim my bed, Y/N.”

You patted the mattress with a smug grin. “Our bed, husband. Join me. You’re warm.” Your tone was commanding, but your eyes sparkled with curiosity, making Jin’s stomach do a weird flip.

“I’m not your husband!” he snapped, yanking the blanket off you. Big mistake. The hoodie rode up, revealing way too much thigh, and he yeeted the blanket back, face flaming. “Put on pants! This is a civilized household!”

You scoffed, licking salt off your fingers. “Pants are cages for my fins... uh... legs. In my kingdom, we swim free.” You stretched, the hoodie slipping to expose a shoulder, and Jin nearly choked on his own tongue.

“Civilization isn’t optional!” he barked, storming to his dresser. He threw a pair of sweatpants at you. “Wear these, or I’m locking you in the bathroom.”

You caught the pants, sniffed them, and wrinkled your nose. “They smell like... regret. Did you wear these to cry over lost dreams?”

Jin’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me? These are clean! And I don’t cry!”

You smirked, tossing the pants back. “Liar. I saw you sniffle at that glowing box (TV you meant) last night. The one with the sad fish.”

“That was Finding Nemo, and I had allergies!” he yelled, turning red. “Get dressed, or I’m throwing you into sea again!”

You relented, slipping on the sweatpants—backwards. The drawstring dangled over your butt, and Jin facepalmed. “You’re a walking disaster.”

Teaching you human life was like teaching a shark to knit. Jin tried, but you were a regal, stubborn ex-tuna with a knack for chaos.

Jin dragged you to his closet, desperate to cover you up before his neighbors called the cops. “Pick something normal,” he said, pointing to jeans.

You ignored him, grabbing a sparkly sequined vest and tying it around your waist like a skirt. “This is royal,” you declared, striking a pose. Jin pinched his nose. “That’s my club vest! You look like a disco ball ran away from home!” You twirled, sequins catching the light. Secretly, he thought you looked weirdly stunning, but he’d rather eat sand than admit it. He tossed you a proper shorts, muttering about “keeping you safe from creeps,” and later hid his flashiest clothes in a locked suitcase, worried you’d parade around town in a feather boa.

Once, Jin made ramyeon, thinking it’d be foolproof. You stared at the chopsticks like they were alien probes. “Why not eat with hands?” you asked, diving in with both fists. Broth splattered the walls, your face, and Jin’s favorite hoodie. He shrieked, “Use the sticks, you savage!”

You flicked a noodle at his forehead, where it stuck like a slimy third eye. “In my kingdom, we sip from shells!” you huffed. Jin wiped the noodle off, muttering, “Your kingdom sounds like a soup warzone.” He showed you how to use chopsticks, guiding your hands with surprising patience, and later stocked the pantry with seaweed snacks after noticing you devoured them.

Jin handed you his phone. “This is how we communicate.” You poked it, and it blared “Baby Shark” at ear-splitting volume, looping like a cursed siren song. Jin yeeted it onto the couch, screaming, “WHY IS THAT YOUR SUPERPOWER?” You shrugged, grinning. “It sings of the sea.”

One day, you found his TV remote and flipped channels, landing on an adult-rated drama—with way more skin and questionable moans. A couple was tangled in bed, all heavy breathing and wandering hands. You tilted your head, fascinated. “Is this... foreplay?” you asked, pointing at the screen.

Jin, sipping coffee, sprayed it across the room. “WHERE DID YOU HEAR THAT WORD?”

You pointed at the TV, unfazed. “They’re... rubbing. A lot. Is this how humans mate? Why is she screaming? Is he hurting her?”

Jin’s face was a furnace. “TURN IT OFF! You’re watching nasty stuff!” He lunged for the remote, tripping over a lamp cord and faceplanting into a cushion. You held the remote aloft, smirking. “Answer me, husband. What is foreplay? Why does it look so... slippery?”

He groaned, snatching the remote and switching to a cooking show. “You’re banned from TV! That’s not—okay, it’s part of mating, but it’s private, and you shouldn’t be watching that garbage! Stick to Pororo or something!” He was mortified, but later, he set parental locks on his streaming apps, muttering about “corrupting your fish brain.” He also noticed you hummed along to ocean-themed jingles, so he made a playlist, pretending it was for his vlog.

The bickering was endless. At the grocery store, you wielded a cucumber like a trident, shouting, “Behold, my sea scepter!” Jin yanked it away, hissing, “It’s a vegetable, not Poseidon’s pitchfork! Stop terrorizing the produce aisle!” Shoppers stared, and Jin shielded you from their gazes, muttering about “keeping you out of trouble.” You sulked, but when he slipped a bag of seaweed snacks into the cart, you beamed, hugging his arm. He froze, grumbling, “Don’t get clingy,” but didn’t pull away. You felt it—his quiet care, the way he watched you like you were precious, even if he’d never say it. He’d scold you, but his eyes softened when you laughed, and you knew he was already hooked.

By day five, Jin was unraveling. You kept “accidentally” brushing against him—your hand grazing his thigh during movie night, your breath tickling his ear when you stole his popcorn. And the licking? You did it again, swiping your tongue along his jaw while he cooked. “Still salty,” you teased. Jin dropped a spatula, yelling, “I’M NOT A SNACK!” But his dreams that night begged to differ.

By week two, Jin was losing it. You were everywhere—lounging on his couch, stealing his hoodies, leaving wet footprints everywhere because you insisted on “hydrating” by sitting in the sink. And you were flirty, in the most chaotic way.

“Seokjin,” you said one evening, perched on the kitchen counter in his apron (and nothing else), swinging your legs. “Why do humans kiss? Is it like biting, but soft?”

He dropped a spatula. “It’s... uh... affection. Or attraction. Not biting.”

You hopped down, sauntering over. “Show me.”

“Nope!” He backed into the fridge, heart pounding. “We’re not kissing. You’re a fish. I mean, ex-fish. I mean—boundaries!”

You pouted, but your eyes gleamed with mischief. “Coward. I’m your wife.”

“Stop saying that!” he groaned, but his resolve was crumbling. You were so close, smelling like sea breeze and his shampoo, and your lips looked... soft.

Then you did it again—licked his jaw, slow and deliberate. “Still salty,” you murmured, and Jin’s knees buckled.

“OKAY, FINE!” he snapped, grabbing your waist to keep you at arm’s length. “You want human lessons? Here’s one: don’t lick people unless you’re ready for consequences.”

You grinned, undeterred. “What consequences?”

He opened his mouth, then shut it. “Bed. Now. Separate beds!”

That night he slept in another room, but you climbed into his bed anyway, curling against him. “For warmth,” you mumbled, already half-asleep. Jin lay there, staring at the ceiling, painfully aware of your bare legs tangled with his.

It all came to a head during a thunderstorm. The sky roared, lightning flashing like an angry god, and you, a sea princess used to the ocean’s calm depths, were terrified. You’d never heard such noise—sharp, cracking, like the world was splitting. The power went out, plunging Jin’s apartment into darkness, and you dove under the kitchen table, trembling.

“Seokjin!” you called, voice small. “The sky is dying!”

Jin, who’d been rummaging for candles, rushed over, crouching to find you curled into a ball, eyes wide with fear. “Hey, Y/N, it’s okay,” he said softly, reaching for your hand. “It’s just a storm. Loud, but harmless.”

You shook your head, clutching his wrist. “It’s angry. Like the sea gods when I was cursed. What if it takes me back?” Your voice broke, and Jin’s heart twisted. You weren’t just scared—you were reliving the moment you lost everything.

He crawled under the table, sitting beside you. “No one’s taking you,” he said firmly, pulling you close. “You’re here. With me. Safe.” His arm around you was warm, solid, and you buried your face in his chest, inhaling his scent—salt, soap, home.

The thunder boomed again, and you whimpered, clinging tighter. Jin rubbed your back, murmuring, “I got you. Just focus on me, okay?” He lit a candle, the flicker casting soft shadows, and you relaxed slightly, still pressed against him.

“Seokjin,” you whispered, looking up, your face inches from his. “I’m scared... but I trust you.”

His breath hitched. Your vulnerability, your closeness—it undid him. “Y/N, I—” He stopped, then admitted, “I wanted you too. Not just for the curse. I saw you, even as a tuna, and thought... ‘This fish has attitude.’”

You laughed, a shaky sound, and kissed him. It was clumsy, desperate, tasting of salt and fear. Jin froze, then kissed back, hands sliding into your hair. The room sparked—literally. A candle flared, and the couch cushions turned into a pile of seaweed.

You pulled back, giggling. “Oops. Magic. My magic is unstable when I am horny.”

Jin stared, breathless. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Things escalated fast. You tugged at his shirt, and he yanked it off, revealing toned abs that made you hum approvingly. “Strong mortal,” you teased, trailing fingers down his chest.

He smirked, confidence surging. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, princess.”

Jin lifted you onto the kitchen counter, the storm still raging outside, forgotten in the heat between you. Your borrowed shirt—his shirt—rode up, exposing thighs that glistened in the candlelight. He stepped between your legs, hands gripping your hips, and you gasped, a soft, needy sound that set his nerves on fire.

“You sure about this?” he asked, voice rough, giving you one last out.

You nodded, eyes blazing. “I want you, Seokjin. Teach me everything.”

He kissed you again, deeper, tongue teasing yours in a slow, hungry dance. You were eager, hands roaming his shoulders, nails scraping just enough to make him groan. “Easy, tuna,” he teased, nipping your lip. “You’ll break me.”

You smirked, tugging his hair. “I’m a princess. I don’t break things. I claim them.”

That snapped his restraint. Jin slid the shirt over your head, tossing it away, and drank in the sight of you—bare, glowing, perfect. Your skin was warm, faintly salty, and when he kissed your collarbone, you purred, a dolphin-like trill that made him laugh and ache.

“Keep doing that, and I’m gonna lose it,” he warned, hands sliding up your thighs, thumbs brushing closer to your core.

“Then lose it,” you challenged, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him flush against you. You were bold, unashamed, and it drove him wild.

He kissed down your chest, slow and deliberate, savoring every gasp. When his lips closed around a sensitive peak, you arched, a burst of magic making the sink spray water like a fountain. “Sorry!” you giggled, but your hands were in his hair, urging him on.

Jin grinned against your skin. “You’re a walking disaster, and I’m obsessed.”

He knelt, kissing your stomach, your hips, then paused at your inner thighs, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses that made you squirm. You tensed, confused. “Seokjin, what are you doing?” Your voice was shaky, curious but nervous. In your kingdom, mating was straightforward—instinctive, functional. This was... new.

He looked up, eyes soft. “Just trust me, princess. I’m gonna make you feel good.”

When his lips brushed your core, you jolted, a mix of shock and heat flooding you. “That’s—not how it works!” you stammered, hands gripping the counter. His tongue flicked, slow and teasing, and you gasped, confusion melting into something else. “Oh... oh.”

Jin chuckled, the vibration making you whimper. He worked you with deliberate care, learning what made you tremble, what made you moan. You were vocal—trills, gasps, his name in a desperate chant. Your mind spun; you’d only known the mechanics of intercourse, not this... worship. Pleasure was a foreign tide, pulling you under.

When you came, it was with a cry, your body shaking. You panted, dazed, as Jin stood, kissing you hard, letting you taste yourself. “Good?” he asked, smug.

You blinked, still reeling. “I... didn’t know pleasure could come in so many ways.” Your voice was awed, vulnerable.

Jin’s smirk softened into something wicked. “Oh, princess, I can show you so much more.” He kissed your nose, teasing. “Stick with me, and you’ll be ruined for anyone else.”

He lifted you into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom. The main event was chaotic, perfect. He entered you slowly, watching your face, but you were all in—eyes locked on his, hips meeting his with a primal rhythm. You purred again, a vibrating hum that made him curse and thrust harder.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, hands gripping your thighs. “You’re unreal.”

You flipped him onto his back with surprising strength. “My turn, mortal.” You rode him like the sea—wild, relentless, nails digging into his chest. Another magical burst turned his lamp into a coral reef, but he was too lost in you to care.

When you both peaked, it was explosive—sparks, thunder, a flood of water soaking the bed. You collapsed on him, laughing, breathless. “I think I love being human,” you gasped.

Jin kissed your forehead, dazed. “I didn’t know sea princesses could ride like that.”

You grinned, nuzzling his chest. “I was born to swim, Jin.”

The next morning, you woke tangled in Jin’s arms, the room a wreck of seaweed, broken glass, and soggy furniture. He looked at you, soft but serious. “Y/N, what happens now? You’re free. You could go back to your kingdom.”

You traced his jaw, heart heavy. “I was cursed for being too proud to need love. I thought I was above it—above mortals, above weakness. But you... you made me want it. Want you.” You paused, swallowing. “My kingdom is gone. The curse severed my ties—my family, my throne. Returning would mean facing exile or worse. Here, I’m free to be... me. Not a princess, just Y/N. With you, I’m home.”

Jin’s eyes softened, glassy. “No one’s ever chosen me like that. Everyone expects the funny guy, the clown. But you see me.”

You kissed him, slow and tender, a promise in every brush of your lips. “You’re my husband, Seokjin. Funny, kind, mine.”

The sex that followed was different—soft, unhurried, like the tide caressing the shore. Jin held you close, his hands gentle as they traced your curves, mapping you like a treasure. He whispered your name, his voice thick with emotion, and you felt his heartbeat under your palm, steady and sure. You moved together, not chasing release but savoring each touch—his lips on your temple, your fingers in his hair, the warmth of his skin against yours. When you came, it was quiet, a shared breath, your foreheads pressed together. You didn’t break anything—just each other’s walls, letting love fill the cracks.

A month later, you and Jin stood on a beach at sunset, exchanging real vows. He’d made rings from seashells, polished to perfection, and you wore a dress of pearls and silk that made him tear up. The ceremony was small, attended by Jin’s closest friends, who’d met you a month after the bathtub incident and instantly adopted you as “Jin’s weird hot fish wife.”

Flashback

The first meeting was at Jin’s apartment, post-sex disaster, with seaweed still stuck to the couch. Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook piled in, expecting a chill hangout. Instead, they found you, wearing Jin’s oversized hoodie and boxer briefs, eating seaweed snacks like a queen.

“Who’s the model?” Jimin whispered, eyeing your legs.

“Is she... licking salt off her fingers?” Taehyung muttered, fascinated.

Jin, flustered, introduced you. “This is Y/N. She’s... uh... my wife. Long story.”

You waved regally. “Greetings, mortals. I am Y/N, Princess of the Cerulean Depths.”

Yoongi raised a brow. “She’s weird.”

“But hot,” Hoseok added, grinning.

Jungkook, munching chips, pointed. “She’s perfect for you, hyung. You’re both unhinged.”

You proved it by turning Jungkook’s soda into a fish with a flick of your wrist. He screamed, then laughed. “Okay, I love her.”

Namjoon, ever the scholar, asked about your curse. You explained, and he nodded thoughtfully. “That’s... wild. But you and Jin make sense. He needs someone to keep him on his toes.”

Jimin teased, “So, hyung, how’s married life? She turn your bed into an aquarium yet?”

Jin turned red. “Shut up, Jimin!”

You smirked, leaning into Jin. “He’s salty, but I like him that way.”

The boys roared, instantly smitten. They spent the night joking, teaching you to play Uno (you ate a wild card, thinking it was kimchi). Jimin and Hoseok, ever the flirts, couldn’t resist. Jimin winked, saying, “Y/N, if Jin ever screws up, I’m free.”

Hoseok chimed in, “Yeah, I’d treat you to the best seafood dinner.” Jin’s smile tightened, his hand resting possessively on your waist. “Keep dreaming, losers,” he said, voice light but eyes sharp. You caught the glint of jealousy and squeezed his hand, amused.

Flashback Ends

At the ceremony, the boys were in full chaos mode. Namjoon officiated, nearly dropping the rings into the sand. Yoongi played a soft piano melody on a portable keyboard, muttering, “This is too romantic.” Hoseok and Jimin threw rose petals, half of which landed in Jungkook’s hair. Taehyung kept snapping photos, yelling, “Work it, fish queen!” Jungkook, tipsy on soju, toasted, “To Jin and his tuna soulmate!”

Jin’s vows were heartfelt, with a touch of humor. “I, Kim Seokjin, take you, Y/N, ex-tuna, forever. I promise to cook you ramyeon, even when you flick noodles at me, and to love you, even when you turn my phone into a trout.”

Yours were equally you. “I, Y/N, take you, Seokjin, my salty savior. I promise to stay, to love, and to only lick you when you deserve it.”

The boys cheered, Jimin fake-sobbing into Hoseok’s shoulder.

That night, under a full moon, you pulled Jin into the shallow waves, your pearl dress discarded on the sand, leaving you bare in the silver light. The ocean lapped at your ankles as you kissed him, hungry and free, tasting salt and love. His hands roamed your back, pulling you close, his suit jacket long gone, shirt unbuttoned to reveal his chest.

“Y/N,” he murmured against your lips, voice rough, “you’re glowing. Literally.”

You laughed, your skin shimmering with faint magic. “Good. Then you’ll find every inch of me.”

You pushed him onto the damp sand, waves teasing your knees, and straddled him, hands splaying over his abs. He groaned, eyes dark with want. “You’re gonna kill me, princess.”

“Not yet,” you teased, grinding against him, feeling him harden beneath you. You kissed his neck, licking a slow stripe, and he cursed, hands gripping your hips.

He flipped you, pinning you gently, the tide washing over your legs. “My turn,” he growled, kissing down your chest, lingering until you arched, gasping. The water glowed blue around you, magic humming as he kissed lower, teasing your core until you purred, a loud, vibrating trill that echoed over the waves.

“Fuck, that sound,” he groaned, returning to your lips. You fumbled with his pants, freeing him, and he entered you slowly, the ocean cradling you both. It was primal, urgent, each thrust timed with the tide, your moans blending with the crash of waves. You clawed his back, magic sparking—starfish appeared in the sand, shells glowed, the water pulsed with your rhythm.

“Seokjin,” you gasped, “harder.” He obliged, whispering praise—“My princess, my wife, so fucking perfect”—until you shattered, your climax triggering a wave that soaked you both. He followed, groaning your name, collapsing into you.

You lay tangled, panting, the glowing water fading. Jin laughed, breathless. “God, I married a tuna.”

You kissed his nose, smirking. “And you’re hooked for life.”

Six months later, you and Jin were settled in a beachside apartment, your magic mostly under control (except when you turned his toaster into a crab during an argument). One lazy Sunday, you lounged on the couch, wearing his hoodie, teasing him as he cooked breakfast.

“Seokjin,” you said, smirking, “remember our first time? You said you’d show me more ways to feel pleasure.” You stretched, letting the hoodie ride up. “What were those ways, hmm?”

He froze, spatula in hand, ears red. “Y/N, I’m holding a hot pan. Don’t start.”

You sauntered over, wrapping your arms around him from behind. “I’m just curious, husband. You promised. Or was that all talk?”

He turned, eyes glinting. “Oh, princess, you’re playing with fire.” He set the pan down, pinning you against the counter. “Want a lesson now?”

You grinned, purring softly. “Show me.”

Breakfast burned, but neither of you cared.

A/N: Hope you’re soaked from this chaotic, spicy ride! Like, reblog, or comment if you loved Jin and his fishy soulmate. Requests open for more unhinged fics! 🐟💖

Taglist: @the-djarin-clan . @jeonjamiekim . @moonjinniecafe  . @minpdrecs . @bontensbabygirl . @this-most-assuredly-counts . @taolucha . @mytaegiheart . @dear-mono . @lilyficrec . @janeluvwonuuuu . @k-fan-fics . @iztrouble . @pikajooni . @namluvili . @alonahh . @paradise172 . @stay-tiny-things . @micdropitlikeitshot . @softhaes . @littlebluhellfire . @niqueesthings . @nocturnalsingularity . @syudoeslove . @namjoonbaby17-blog . @mar-lo-pap . @bebabido . @naesarang07 . @diame93 . @themwordsblog

[yoonguurt]

Summary: Spring brings with it the need for a change. You're in a writing rut and that just can't happen right now. You decided to spend a few months with your aunt at her massive garden estate. for the first time in 10 years. Dreams of a boy you don't remember become a nightly thing. Who is this boy?

Pairing: Hongjoong x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, fantasy

AU/Trope: long lost friends to lovers, a twist on The Secret Garden

Word count: 12,295

Warnings: parental death, themes of curses, talks of insanity, mentions of kidnapping, a horrible old woman, threats. I think that's all but it's also 2 am so brain a little fuzzy. NSFW warnings under the cut

A/N: This is for the Language of Flowers event for @cultofdionysusnet I really did put everything I have into this fic. It has taken me a while and I will probably revisit this later since I didn't get everything I wanted in here. Thank you to @kwanisms for making the title banner and reading bits and pieces of this. @anyamaris @pyeonghongrie @justhere4kpop @stardragongalaxy also helped me with reading some of this. Thank you guys for putting up with the screenshots and eye emojis.

Smut warnings: unprotected sex (do not do, I will hunt you down), fingering, dry humping, so much kissing, Hongjoong is king of aftercare, virgin Hongjoong, there's no power dynamic here, they’re just soft

Walking into the courtyard of your aunt’s estate was like walking back into a long lost memory. You spent many summers here as a child and while it had been some of the best times of your life, as you had gotten older, the trips stopped. Once you began to transcend into your older teen years, the allure of the massive mansion and grounds lost its appeal. You stopped coming when you were 15. You remember that there was a specific reason why, you just couldn’t remember what that reason was. 

You closed the large iron gate behind you, listening as it made a loud creak. The gate was covered in rust, which was unusual since your aunt was a very meticulous woman. She had to have everything in perfect condition at all times. At least, that was how she was the last time you had seen her 10 years ago. From the phone call you shared, she seemed to still be the same woman she had always been. She may be older, but she still has the same fiery spirit she’s always had. You guess that was where you got it from. 

In all honesty, you have never been overly close with your aunt. You loved her, sure, but she was kind of a mean woman. She was quite a few years younger than your father, 11 to be exact, so she wasn’t elderly when you were a child. She seemed to be a little miserable your entire life, though you were too young to realize that at the time. Thinking back on it now, you realized that your aunt had any possession she could ever want, but you had never seen her have a companion of any sort. No women from the nearby town ever came to visit, and you had never seen a man, other than Steven the gardener, ever pass through the gates. You knew that no one needed anyone of the opposite sex to make their lives better, but you also knew that she must live a lonely life.

The real reason you fell in love with coming to stay the summers was the grounds. The estate was massive. Many times you had spent all day wandering around the grounds, just exploring everything your heart yearned for. You knew you had a favorite spot when you were younger, but its location was another thing slipping your mind. You’d have to make a mental note to try and find your special spot.

The old door is silent as you open in and step inside. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed. A quick glance around the foyer lets you know that not much inside the house has changed either. There are still the same two blue and white flowered vases standing on either side of the door, holding the same kind of lilies they had always held. The small table that held the rotary phone was still in the same place at the base of the stairs, rotary phone still sat atop. Even the curtains were the same. A light sage in color, small embroidered flowers running down the fabric. 

Flowers were always a large part of the decor of your aunt’s home. Each guest room in the house was themed with a different flower. There were numerous gardens spread throughout the grounds, some with mixed plants and some that only grew a particular plant. You knew flowers were really important to your aunt, though every time your curious child tendencies come forward, she would only give a stiff smile and tell you that flowers were beautiful and a woman of her standing deserved to have beauty all around her. Looking back, you can see how forced her smile had been.

“Aunt Helen!” Your voice rang throughout the empty home, surprising even yourself at just how loud your voice carried. You had been told to come right in and make yourself at home, but it didn’t feel right. Not only had you not been here in ten years after abruptly deciding that you didn’t want to return for the summer of your 16th year, but you had also called her out of nowhere to ask if you could spend some time there. Her side of the line had been silent for a few moments before she told you that there shouldn’t be an issue with you coming, but it still felt like she wasn’t sure about her decision. 

You hear footsteps coming from the top of the stairs and you turn to face the stairway with a smile. Helen comes around the corner, her face showing no emotion as she looks down at you. “Y/N. How nice to see you, dear.” Her voice is pleasant enough, though her face is still blank. You guess you must have hurt her by your sudden refusal to come back during your teen years, and then surprised her with an equally sudden request to return. You try to shake the thought from your head, making sure to keep your smile. “Thank you so much for letting me spend the next few months here. I know it was a sudden request, but I think it will really do me some good.”

The last year of your life had been hectic to say the least. You moved from your home on the outskirts of the city to the city proper to be closer to publishers. You had always wanted to be a writer. You could remember always having notebooks full of stories as a child. You had hid them away in any room you could find. By the time you turned 16, you had probably filled 50 notebooks. Like many children, the stories were fantastical and some were nonsense, but it was the process of writing that you enjoyed. Bringing whatever idea that had popped into your head to life was an addiction to you. 

Helen’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making you focus your attention back on the aging lady who was now making her way down the stairs. “It’s no problem at all, dear. There’s no one here but me and Steven, so there’s plenty of room.” Her feet stop in front of you as she lifts her arms toward you for a hug. You quickly drop your bags, scrambling to return her gesture as quickly as you can. The hug is an awkward one. Arms are around middles, but there is a gap between bodies. To anyone looking from a distance, it would seem as if you two don’t even know each other. But, at this time in your life, that’s essentially true. The hug breaks apart almost as soon as it begins, both of you taking a step back to put some distance between you. 

“I’m sure you’ve had a long trip. Go ahead and choose your room and get settled. Though, I’m sure you’ll choose the gardenia room. It always was your favorite.” A smile creeps to your lips at the mention of your childhood choice of room. She was right about it. That room had been your favorite. “Do you still have the gardenia garden, Aunt Helen?” The look on her face takes you aback a little. For a split second, she looks angry. She quickly changes her expression to one of confusion. “Oh dear, there’s never been a garden dedicated solely to gardenias. However, there are some planted in one of the rose gardens. Maybe that is what you’re thinking of.” It’s your turn to be confused. You distinctly remember playing in a garden full of nothing but gardenias. 

You don’t want to argue, there is a chance that you created that memory as one of your stories, so you give her a nod as you tell her that you’re going to go get settled. You grab your bags, though you didn’t bring many, the three that you do have are large and filled to the brim. Making your way up the stairs is a little tricky since there are 20 of them in total, but you manage. Turning left at the top of the stairs, you pick up your pace a little, excited to get to your room. It sits at the end of the hall on the right side. You take a deep breath as you set your bags down to open the door, making sure to open it slowly so you get the wave of nostalgia that you know will come with seeing the room for the first time in years. 

Seeing the room is like a breath of fresh air. It feels like coming home after a long day of work, knowing that relaxation and happiness are waiting for you. It almost makes you want to cry. You leave your bags at the door for a moment, you just need to feel the room first. There are fresh gardenias in a small, white vase on the bedside table. That has always been one of your favorite smells and it makes your heart flutter when it hits your nose. The king size bed has the same white and green bed set it’s always had. The handmade quilt, certainly not made by your aunt, is the color of grass and has gardenias sewn into the fabric. You run your hand over the top of the quilt, memories of spending nights completely enveloped in the warmth of the fabric as you write in one of the many notebooks you always brought with you.

There’s an oak writing table that stands in front of the large bay window that overlooks an area that looks different than the rest of the estate. It looks more run down, like it hadn’t been taken care of in years. You could have sworn that it was once a beautiful garden that you had spent much of your time in. It hits you that you seem to remember that patch of land being your favorite spot, but it doesn’t seem like that is true. 

You turn your attention to the wallpaper. It gives a little more color to the room. The background of the paper is a soft yellow while images of gardenia bushes cover the rest. All perfectly spaced out, just like you know Helen had wanted. You finally decided to grab your bags and start to put your things away, a little more pep in your step. You’re more than excited to be back in this room, where it seems like all of your story ideas seemed to have formed. You feel as if you had the greatest idea for a story while staying here over those summers, but it’s just another thing you can’t remember. Perhaps it will come back with time. You certainly need it to come back.

After all of your things are put away, you make your way back down the stairs to familiarize yourself with the house again. You’re sure that it will all come flooding back, but you’d rather get the learning process over now to prevent any future issues. The sitting room is off to the left of the stairs, through a doorway, the dining room is off to the right. Deciding to look through the left side of the house first, you make your way into the sitting room. The same old couches and chairs adorn the room, though they still look like they’ve never been used. You guess that there’s a chance that they haven’t. The fireplace stands tall and clean, another thing you’re sure Helen has never used. There are multiple tables placed around the room, all made with dark, polished wood. 

To the left there’s another doorway, this one leading into the sunroom. Wicker chairs are placed a few feet from each other, a small table in between each chair. You remember spending your time here when the rain prevented you from your outdoor adventures. You’d sit on the floor since the chairs were always uncomfortable, writing your heart out. You sure wish you could find where those notebooks had gone. The back half of the first floor is Steven’s quarters. He’s always been a nice man, but he keeps to himself and you respect that.

Making your way back through the sitting room, you take a second to look out of the small window that sits on the front of the house. Gardens fill your field of view. More gardens than you ever thought a person could have. You feel certain that Helen has a garden for every flower she could possibly grow. 

The dining room houses a table long enough to sit around 14 people, though you know nowhere near that many people have even been in the house. Like everything else, it’s a dark, polished wood. Helen is nothing but consistent in her design choices. The kitchen sits behind a set of double doors, which are painted a pristine white, no doubt kept clean by the lack of traffic. Helen has to have a maid that comes and cleans at some point, there’s no way she’d ever stoop so low as to clean herself. You already know what the kitchen will look like, large stoves and ovens that could cook meals for an obscene amount of people. Your watch tells you that it will be dark soon so you put off your plan of going out to the gardens until tomorrow. 

Helen is nowhere to be seen, though you aren’t surprised. She’s always been a mysterious woman, keeping to herself much like Steven. A rumbling from your stomach lets you know that you should probably eat, which means that you have to actually venture into the kitchen. Opening the doors, you’re surprised to find a portly woman rummaging through some pans. “Oh. I didn’t realize someone was in here. Usually Steven is the only staff that stays here at the mansion.” Your voice seems to startle the woman, causing her to hit her head on the cabinet she was looking in. She lets out a groan as she rubs the back of her head. “Fuck! Shit! Damn! I am so sorry!” You aren’t sure if you mean to curse, but it happens anyway. The lady turns to face you, a bright smile on her face. “It’s ok, really. I probably would have done that even if you hadn’t startled me.” The giggle she lets out after speaking is infectious, making you giggle along with her. “I’m Julia.” You take her outstretched hand and give it a firm shake. “I’m Y/N. Helen is my aunt.” 

You watch as Julia’s expression sours and you’re half expecting it to bounce back, but it doesn’t. “Didn’t know that mean, old broad had family.” She immediately seems to realize what she said since her eyes go wide and she looks a little panicked. “Oh, shoot! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean that. Ms. Helen is lovely.” Her nervous giggle and her flustered state makes you smile. “Hey, you’re the one that works here and spends more time here than I do. Your opinion of her is probably more accurate than mine. I haven’t seen her since I was 15.” She heaves a sigh of relief at your blatant uncaring attitude towards her unkind words about your aunt. “Whew. Thought I really made a mess of things there. Can I get you something to eat?” You give her a shake of your head, telling her that you were just refamiliarizing yourself with the house before you head up to your room. She gives you a little nod and a smile, telling you that she’ll be heading home soon, but she’ll be back the next morning for breakfast. 

The bed in the gardenia room looks like heaven as you walk through the door. Maybe the trip hit you harder than you expected or maybe it’s just being back here, but your eyes are suddenly heavy and all you want is to sleep. No alarm, no designated time to wake up, just sleep as long as your body needs. You take your time changing into your pajamas and washing your face and brushing your teeth before climbing between the sheets and stretching out. It hits you that you haven’t let your mother know that you arrived safely, so you pull out your phone to type out a quick text. Annoyance comes over you as you look at the screen. No service, of course. You should have known, you are in the middle of nowhere after all. You make the decision to call her from Helen’s phone tomorrow. You wiggle a little, making yourself comfortable and set your phone back on the bedside table, not even bothering to charge it. Flicking the lamp off, you quickly fall into a sleep filled with dreams of a boy with a dazzling smile. 

You wake up feeling more rested than you have felt in years. The sun is already high in the sky when you crawl out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom. You settle for a simple sundress to wear for the day, grabbing a cardigan just in case you get a chill. Today, you explore the gardens. Breakfast is being put away when you make your way into the dining room. Luckily, Julia spots you and greets you with a smile and a wave. “Morning, sunshine. I saved you a plate. I put it in the microwave for you.” You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your stomach growling at the mention of food. You follow her into the kitchen, reaching into the microwave to grab the plate of blueberry pancakes and bacon and involuntarily let out a moan. “These are my favorite. How did you know?” Julia gives you a sly smile. “A certain gardener told me.” Steven? There’s no way he remembered that. You haven’t seen him in years. The look on your face must give your thoughts away. “That man remembers everything. It’s insane, really. So, what are your plans for the day?”

The sundress was a great choice. The weather is wonderful. It’s not too hot, not too cold, the perfect balance fornthe spring. There’s a light breeze blowing, enough to keep you cool, but not make you cold. It’s the perfect day for exploring. You stand by the steps, looking around trying to figure out where to go first. After some thought, you decided to start with the daisy garden. It took some time for you to orient yourself, but you managed more quickly than you thought you would, though most of the layout seemed like muscle memory to you. 

The daisies were off to the left of the grounds, tall hedges sounding the garden. That was something universal with the gardens. Every garden had hedges all the way around it, Helen’s way of making sure that to be able to fully see the garden, you had to actually enter the garden. Every hedge was neatly trimmed, Steven’s doing you’re sure. Taking your time, you slowly maneuvered your way through the garden. Daisies of every color surrounded you, some you were sure were some sort of hybrid or something. Helen seemed to have flowers in colors you had never seen before. There was a patch of what looked like a peach color, and it honestly took your breath away.

In the center of the garden, there was a stone bench that gave a good view of the hedge lion that stood in front of you. You weren’t sure you’d ever not be amazed by Steven’s gardening skills. Every garden seemed to be like it came right out of a fairy tale. The thought of why Helen never opened the grounds to onlookers crossed your mind as you stared at the beauty of the daisy garden, but you quickly dismissed it. Helen was a selfish woman, you wouldn’t dream of denying that. There was no way she would share the possession most dear to her with anyone that she wasn’t related to. You also weren’t sure anyone would come. Your aunt had a bit of a reputation for being a rude woman. 

A memory of going to town on your last summer here came to the forefront of your mind. Helen had taken you to town with her for some reason or another. She rarely made trips into town so you had been excited for the journey. Everyone seemed to move out of the way as Helen walked by. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it, assuming that they were just being polite. Thinking back on it now, it seemed like they had been afraid of her. It was like they were living in fear of even being perceived by her. 

You had heard them whispering, and if Helen had heard she hadn’t let on. You hadn’t been able to make out much of what they had been saying, mostly just ‘witch’ and ‘old Mrs. Kim.’ That brought back another memory. On your rare trips into town, you had heard old Mrs. Kim mentioned numerous times. Mostly when mothers were disciplining their children for being out late. “I told you to be back here by dusk! Do you want me to end up like old Mrs. Kim?” You hadn’t been, and still weren’t, sure what that meant. Other times, it had been when two women were talking, usually one insinuating that the other was crazy. “You’re acting like old Mrs. Kim, you need to get your head on straight.” You made a mental note to ask Helen who Mrs. Kim had been.

The sun was starting to be a bit much for you, though it wasn’t unbearably hot, you were starting to get a bit uncomfortable. Heaving yourself off of the bench, you made your way back through the garden, still taking your time. The entrance to the garden gave you another flash of memory. A vision of you running as fast as you could, white dress flowing with each step you made. You couldn’t have been more than 9. There was a smile on your face, and it made you smile just seeing the memory. Past you ran towards the run down part of the grounds, but the memory faded as you reached your destination. You shook your head as the image of yourself disappeared, your feet automatically carrying you back to the house. You’d make it to investigate the dilapidated garden. Eventually.

Climbing the stairs to the front porch, the urge to sit in one of the rocking chairs hit you. You smiled to yourself before making your way inside and to the kitchen. You were sure Julia must have made some tea or lemonade, maybe both. Pushing the doors to the kitchen open, the smell of food invaded your nostrils and you gave a pleased hum. “You took longer than I thought you would. It's been about 3 hours.” That explains the sun. You gave her a toothy grin as you made your way to the fridge. “Any chance you have tea or lemonade in here?” The woman gave you a smirk before she spoke. “Both.” You knew it.

Planting yourself in one of the rocking chairs, you sipped your drink. The mix of tea and lemonade was as refreshing and you had hoped. Your thoughts wandered without control. Who had you been running to? Your mind drifted back to the dream you had the night before. The boy with the dazzling smile. Who was he? He seemed so familiar to you, but you couldn't quite place where you knew him from. Maybe he had been a playmate from town. But then again, that didn't make any sense. You were barely in town as a child and even when you were, you never spoke to anyone.

The creaking of the door brought you out of your thoughts. You turned, expecting Julia to walk through, perhaps taking a small break while the food was in the oven. Instead, Steven's form greeted you. “Steven! It's been a long time, how have you been?” Your voice seemed to startle the man since his head whipped in your direction, eyes a little wide. He relaxed once he realized that you were the one speaking. “It's good to see you again, Miss Y/N.” Your face scrunched at the title. He had always called you that and you had always hated it.

“I've told you a thousand times, just call me Y/N. Miss Y/N makes me feel old and like you're below me or something. Helen may like that, but I'm not Helen.” Steven gave you a soft smile as he made his way to sit in the chair to your left. “No can do, Miss Y/N. I'm a gentleman with manners.” The statement made you laugh and give him a playful swat on the arm. “The most gentleman to ever gentleman, Steven.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, enjoying each other's presence. Steven had never been the most talkative, but he had always been comforting. He listened to your childish ramblings all those years ago, nodding his head and gasping when you said something dramatic. He was a friend to you and you loved him for that. 

It was Steven who finally broke the silence, surprisingly. “It sure has been quite lonely without having your visits, Miss Y/N. Glad to have you back. The gardens need you.” You gave him a bright smile, though you were sure that the gardens were thriving in his perfectly capable hands. “Steven, these gardens need no one but you. They're only this beautiful because of the time and care you put into them.” The look on his face was a little somber as he spoke again. “I appreciate it, Miss Y/N, but you and your heart are more needed than you realize. But you will remember in time.” With that, he stood and walked off into the grounds, leaving you rather confused.

The sun was starting to set by the time you went back into the house. Your stomach was starting to growl, and you were sure dinner was close to being ready, if it wasn't already finished. Helen was descending the stairs as you made your way through the front door. “Dear, dinner is ready and you look a bit of a mess.” She glanced down at your hands and legs, which prompted you to look as well. You did have a bit of dirt on your skin. “Go wash up before you join me.” 

Helen had always been this way, a bit rude. You flashed her a tight smile, nodding as you made your way to your room. Stepping through the door of your special sanctuary, you heaved a sigh of relief. The room just felt lighter than the rest of the house. You made quick work of undressing and showering, a bit eager to get food into your body. Once you were bathed and dressed, you stepped out into the hall, not noticing the notebook sitting on your bedside table.

Dinner passed slowly. There wasn't much conversation, though the food was amazing. Julia had made roast and potatoes with a side salad, and you were sure you had never tasted a roast so tender and full of flavor. Voices from the kitchen could barely be heard, Julia and Steven no doubt. You wished you could retreat through the doors and eat with them, their company would be much more welcome than Helen’s. She had finished her food already, but had always been adamant that everyone be finished before anyone left the table.

“Dear.” Her voice caused you to meet her gaze, which was hardened. “While I am pleased to have you back, I must ask why the sudden wish to return.” You knew this would come up eventually. You took a deep breath, thinking through your words carefully. “I needed a break from city life. I have hit a wall with my writing. Being here always gave me new and wonderful ideas. I thought it might help.” Your aunt gave you a curt nod, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin even though she hadn't eaten anything. “Well, if you're done, I'll retire to my room now.” The sliding of her chair filled the quiet room as she turned and made her way to the stairs.

The bed was comfortable as you fell onto it. You weren't particularly tired, but it felt nice to lay down. Steven’s words from earlier swirled through your head. He obviously knew something you didn't, but you also knew that trying to pry would get you nowhere. Out of habit, you turned to grab your phone, mentally cursing yourself when you remembered you had no service and you had forgotten to call your mother. Your attention was immediately diverted to the notebook sitting neatly by your phone, puzzling you.

You hadn't taken a notebook out of your bag, that you knew for certain. Your hand changed direction to reach for the notebook. Shuffling down under your blanket, you brought the book in front you, flipping through the pages. You stopped at a page that was dated just after your 9th birthday. 

The gardens here are so cool. There's so many of them. It'll take me weeks to go through them all.

You chuckled at the thoughts of your past self and flipped a few more pages. This entry was set a few days later.

I found a new garden! I was exploring around the old, gross part of the grounds and I looked through some vines and found it. Aunt Helen called me back before I could get a good look, but I'm gonna go back tomorrow. 

This gave you pause. You didn't remember ever exploring the old part of the grounds. Helen had always told you to stay away from that part of the estate, stating it was dangerous. Deciding to read the next entry, you quickly flipped to the next page.

The new garden is so pretty! It's already my favorite. It has some of every flower and it's huge. And there's a house in there! I didn't see anyone, but maybe tomorrow. 

This had to be some of your childhood stories. There was no way that there was another house on the property. With a sigh, you set the book back on the table and clicked your light off. Giving your pillow a fluff, you laid down and drifted into a dream. 

“Hongjoong that wasn't funny!” The young boy stood in front of you holding his belly and laughing. “You should have seen your face!” He flailed his arms around and made an exaggerated scared face while you pouted. “You shouldn't scare me like that. It's not nice.” One look at your face let him know that he had really messed up, you looked like you were about to cry. “I'm sorry Y/N. I didn't mean to make you sad. I never want to make you sad.” You perked up after his apology, telling him that it was ok and reaching for his hand. He took your hand in his and you both ran off into the garden. 

You awoke with a startle, a little disoriented. The dream was still fresh on your mind, and it left so many questions. Was that the garden you had written about in the notebook? Why did the dream seem so real? It had been like a distant memory. And who the fuck was Hongjoong? Your immediate reaction was to grab the notebook again and try to search for the name, but a knock on the bedroom door made you put that off. “Y/N dear, I’m going into town today and I would like for you to join me. Do hurry and get ready, please. I’d rather not have to wait much longer.”

The ride to town with Helen was silent, just as it always had been. Why she wanted you to join was beyond you, but you could use the time to go over your thoughts. Despite being confused,  you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness at having woken up from your dream. The boy, Hongjoong it seemed, had already created a home in your mind. He seemed so familiar, like an old friend. But you were sure you had never met him. So, why was he invading your dreams? And why did you have such a vivid picture of this new garden? Was it something your mind had conjured on its own? It had to be. There had never been a garden in the dilapidated part of the grounds, and there certainly had never been another house. 

The abrupt stop of the car brought you out of your deep thoughts. Swiveling your head, you noticed that Helen had parked at the town market. It was a small building for a small town, nothing fancy, but it had all the essentials. The market was set in a shopping center of sorts, again just a small little gathering of buildings. There was a clothing store, a barbershop and the library all huddled around one parking lot. An idea sprung to the forefront of your mind. “Aunt Helen, I think I’d like to visit the library, if that’s ok. I could use a good book to read.” You aren’t entirely sure why you decided to lie to your aunt, something just told you that you probably shouldn’t tell her your actual plans. Helen heaved a heavy sigh from the driver’s seat. “I was hoping you would actually help me, but do as you wish, dear.” Turning your head and rolling your eyes, you stepped out of the car and made your way to the library doors.

The library was like any other library, you weren’t really sure why you expected anything else. Like everything in the town, it was small, but it seemed to be bigger than it looked from the outside. Rows of bookshelves spanned down each side of the building and behind the librarian’s desk. Stepping forward, you stopped at the desk where an older lady with thin glasses and a tight bun looked up at you. You held in a giggle at the stereotypical librarian look. “Good afternoon, how can I help you?” She had a friendly smile, a genuine smile rather than the customer service smile many people wore when they were working. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Does this library have newspaper archives?”

Surprisingly, the library had a basement. It was a bit drafty, letting the cool, spring air run through the room. It obviously wasn’t used much, boxes stacked up in one corner. The librarian led you to a single computer that sat on a desk in the very back of the basement. “Sorry that you have to come all the way down here for the archives.” She gave you a kind, somewhat sad smile. “Pretty much everything has transferred to tablets or whatever new fangled technology the kids are using these days. But the newspaper archives haven’t been switched over yet, they’re still on this computer, aside from much older ones that are still on floppy disks.” You gave her a nod of your head with a reassurance that this was fine. “What year are you looking for, sweetie?” It took a moment for you to answer. “I don’t know.”

The blinking cursor on the screen was a bit daunting. The kind librarian had been patient with you, letting you know that it was ok to not know a year and that a name could be used as well. All you had to do was type it into the search bar. If the name couldn't be found, always check the floppies. You didn't think you'd have to go back that far. Were you crazy? You didn't even have a full name. Just Hongjoong. There had to be more than just one Hongjoong, how would you know what you were looking for? Pushing the doubts aside, you typed in Hongjoong's name and pressed enter.

Unlike what you expected, only a couple of articles popped up. The headlines were vastly different from each other, and you were sure the two couldn't be related. After looking over the words for a moment, you chose to click on the first link.

Father takes son and runs.

Kim Jae-seok and Kim Hongjoong have been missing for 3 weeks at this point. While it was first suspected that the father and son had had an unfortunate accident, the running theory now is that Jae-seok has kidnapped his son and left his wife, Kim Eunbi. Mrs. Kim has adamantly argued against this theory, blaming a local woman for the disappearances, but there is no evidence at this time to substantiate her claims.

You stared at the screen with a baffled expression. At the bottom of the article there was a picture of a young boy and an older man, both wearing giant grins. The boy sat on the man’s shoulders, arms wrapped around the man’s forehead. The caption at the bottom of the picture gave the pair’s names. Kim Jae-seok and Kim Hongjoong. The article was dated around the time you would have been 9, and the boy looked to be around your age. He was also the Hongjoong from your dream.

It took you a few minutes to gather the gumption to click on the next article. After a few deep breaths, you moved the mouse, ready for what came next.

Mother of missing boy ostracized: grief or insanity?

2 years after the disappearance of her son and husband, Kim Eunbi has been shunned by the community. She has stuck to her initial claims that a local woman is responsible for the disappearances. Her claims that the owner of the large garden estate has her family hidden away have remained consistent throughout the investigation. Searches were done, but no trace of Kim Jae-seok and Kim Hongjoong were found. The woman is quoted saying “I feel for the poor woman, losing her family, but I certainly have nothing to do with her misfortune.” At this time, the case has been cold. It is still thought that Jae-seok had kidnapped their son.

As you read the words, your mind swirled. Mrs. Kim seemed to believe that Helen had something to do with the disappearances. But to your knowledge, Helen hadn't really spoken to anyone from town. Her visits were always quick, with as little interaction as possible. Looking at you watch let you know that you didn't have much time left before your aunt was done with her errands. On a whim, you erased Hongjoong's name from the search bar, typing in his mother's name instead.

The same articles popped up, only there was one thing added. An obituary. Your heart panged as you read it. She died without knowing what became of her husband and son. You quickly closed out of the tab, rushing back upstairs, thanking the librarian again on your way out. Helen was just getting back to her car as you stepped through the library doors.

You helped her put her groceries into her car, silent the entire time. You definitely had some things to think about. There was no way your hermit of an aunt could have anything to do with the case of the missing men. Mrs. Kim had to have had some sort of mental break due to her grief. Once the bags were neatly placed in the trunk, you took your place in the passenger seat once more.

“Where's your book, dear?” Helen was quick to notice that you came back from the library empty handed and you quickly came up with a believable excuse. “Nothing really interested me. I didn't want to keep you waiting.” That seemed to satisfy her, giving you a nod and a hum. Your thoughts drifted again. Sure Helen was rude, but she wasn't dangerous. Was she?

Steven came to help bring the groceries inside, Julia following soon after. With their blessing, you decided to tour another garden. Maybe that would help you clear your head. You started walking, not really having a particular garden in mind, stopping at the first one you came to. Camillas. Though the camilla garden was one of the smaller gardens, it was still large. 

Rather than hedges surrounding it, there was a tall fence, dark wood of course. Helen did have a theme after all. Despite your thoughts, you tried to pay attention to the beauty surrounding you. Once again, there were flowers of every color. How Helen managed to find so many colors baffled you, but you guessed that when you had that much money, things were more possible for you.  

At the center of the garden stood another statue. Every garden had one, or some sort of hedge animal, if you remembered correctly. This particular statue was of a man with a young boy peeking from behind the man's leg. The base of the statue had no plaque, but was surrounded by yellow camillas. The man's face was rather somber looking, which was odd for such a beautiful garden. 

Helen watched you from the window, a scowl on her face. You were hiding something and she could tell. She could always tell. Except when it came to her oaf of a gardener. She had never been able to get a good read on the man, despite years of experience and practice. She would have done away with Steven if she were able, but she knew the deal and she couldn't go against that. She didn't know what or how, but she knew something had to be done about your nosey tendencies.

You sat amongst the camillas until the sun began to set and a chill started biting at your skin. You still hadn't made sense of the information you had found in the library. Nothing made sense. You wanted to ask someone if they had heard of Hongjoong and his father, but Helen wasn't an option. You doubt Julia knew anything, which only left Steven. Even if he knew anything, you doubted he would say. He'd been working for your aunt for years, he had a loyalty to her.

“Hey mom. Sorry for not calling sooner. My phone has no service here and it kept slipping my mind.” Your mother’s voice was pleasant as she told you that it was ok. She was sure Helen would have called if you had never arrived. A thought passed through your mind and you considering asking your mother if she knew anything about the Kims. Your voice made the decision for you. “Mom, do you know anything about a missing boy and his father?” Silence. It felt like 5 minutes of silence before your mother spoke again. 

“Jae-seok was a friend of your father's. They had gone to school together and had been close ever since. Your dad had always joked about him becoming his brother in law one day.” Your mother left out a breathy chuckle and you kept your attention steady, wanting to know more. 

“When Jae-Seok met Eunbi, the jokes stopped. It was clear that the two of them were meant to be together. They had been so in love. It didn't take long for them to marry, your father was the best man. After Hongjoong was born, Helen gave Jae-Seok the job as her gardener. He made those gardens what they are.” 

You knew that Jae-Seok had been the gardener, but just how close he was to your family was new information. Your mother continued, giving you everything you knew.

“When Jae-Seok left with Hongjoong, both Eunbi and your father had been insistent that there was no way Jae-Seok would do that. He loved his life and he worshiped Eunbi and treated her like a queen. Your father searched for him as much as he could, but after a while he had to give up. The disappearances were the reason we moved. He just couldn't handle staying in a town with so many memories.”

You didn't know what to say. Your head was spinning a little. You had gotten so much information in such a short period of time. Despite all of the thinking you had done today, you still had more to do. You thanked your mother and talked a bit more before you said your goodbyes. Deciding that you weren't particularly hungry, you let Helen know that you would be skipping dinner. The woman looked far from pleased, but you paid her no mind. You were also unaware of the man standing not too far off with a smile on his face.

Laying on your bed, you felt exhausted. You hadn’t really done anything extensive, but your mind hadn't stopped running in circles since your trip to the library. You went through the facts one more time.

1. You had dreams and journal entries about a boy named Hongjoong. 

2. Your father knew the boy's father.

3. Your aunt had been accused of being involved. 

4. Hongjoong was missing.

Turning to your bedside table, you reached to grab the journal you had found the night before. You paused. There was another journal sitting on top. Where were these coming from? A knock on your door took your attention away from the journals. Giving a deep sigh, you prepared yourself to face Helen. 

Opening the door, you were a little surprised to find Steven. “Thought you should probably eat.” He extended his arm, a plate of the dinner Julia had made in his hand. You couldn't help but smile. Steven was a really nice guy. As you took the plate, you gathered enough courage to ask him a question. “Steven, do you remember me ever mentioning a boy named Hongjoong when I was a child?”

The man stiffed a little before relaxing, as if he was trying to hide his reaction. “I'm sure I can't say, Miss Y/N.” Not the answer you were expecting. Steven remembered everything. “It's getting to be a little past my bedtime. Gotta be up early. You should do some reading, Miss Y/N. Goodnight.”

His mentioning reading struck you as a little odd. He had seen you come back from town, he had to have known you hadn't brought a book back and there weren't any books in your room. Sure, he could have assumed you had brought some with you. That was the most logical explanation, but something was still bothering you.

Shrugging the odd conversation off, you took your food to your bed, planning to nibble on it as you read the journals. You chose the new one, flipping through the pages. Your browsing stop and a page that was dated when you would have been 13.

“Hongjoong and I read today, it was pretty relaxing. I like that I can have someone that doesn't feel the need to always fill the silence. Sometimes that's just what I need, to be in someone's presence but still enjoy the quiet. We did talk a little, though. He's such a great listener. He did get a little sad when I asked him to come look at the gardens with me tomorrow. He said something about not being able to leave. I'm not sure what he meant. I'll try again tomorrow.”

There was a large break in the page before a sentence placed at the very bottom.

“I'm gonna marry him one day.”

You almost closed the book immediately. Your 13 year old self was thinking of marrying her imaginary friend. It just seemed silly. You grabbed the other journal, finding a page before the last one you had read.

“I'm writing this in case I forget, the new garden can be hard to find. All you have to do is find the part of the fence with two missing boards. There's a few spots like that, but the one to the garden has vines all over it and an H carved into the board next to it.”

You finished your food, setting the plate and journal back on the table. Looks like you had some exploring to do tomorrow. 

“Don't do this, Y/N. Please. You know I can't come with you, please don't just stop coming. The look on Hongjoong's face broke your heart. He was your best friend, but you were starting to think this was all in your mind. Some imaginary world you had created in your mind. “Joong, I'm getting too old to play make believe with people who aren't there.” His face changed from sadness to anger. “You know damn well that I'm not an imaginary friend. You know what, go. Leave and don't come back. I'm fine here with my dad anyway.” You couldn't help the tear that fell from your eye as you watched him walk away.”

Waking up in a sweat was becoming normal. You groaned as you climbed out of bed to brush your teeth and change your clothes. Choosing to forego a shower, you'd be getting dirty today anyway, you picked out some jeans and an old shirt that you had turned into a night shirt. You sat and ate breakfast with Helen, choosing to ignore her comments about your outfit. She asked what your plans for the day were and you kept your cool, simply telling her you would be visiting the lilies today. She said nothing as she gathered her dirty dishes and took them to the kitchen.

Steven watched as you walked out of the door and headed to the old part of the estate. He couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him and the smile that came to his face. He watched your form disappear before he spoke. “Finally.”

The vines were far overgrown. Steven must not worry about this section because there was nothing here. You felt a little ridiculous. Looking around for some garden that probably didn't exist. After an hour of searching, you were ready to give up. You could barely see any of the fence, there was a slim chance you'd be able to find missing boards and a carving. Moving to turn around and head back, you saw a sliver of a missing board. Stepping over to it, you pulled the vines to the side. Two missing boards. You searched around the boards around the gap. On the left board, a small H. 

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the incoming feeling of feeling like a silly little girl. Crouching down, you stepped through the gap. It took a little bit of wiggling, but you made it to the other side. When you lifted your head, you were in awe. The most beautiful garden you had ever seen was before you. Gardenias. Gardenias everywhere.

You stood still for a moment, just taking in the beauty. The shock subsided a little and you took your first steps further into the new majestic place you had found. Your feet seemed to know where to go, weaving you through the bushes. You stopped when you came upon a house. Just like the house from your dreams. You studied the house for a few seconds. It wasn't run down at all. In fact, it looked like it had been well taken care of. You watched the door open and a man step out. He stood there looking at you for what felt like forever. A smile slowly creeped across his face. “You're back.”

Your mind went blank. Suddenly a rush of memories came back to you. Meeting Hongjoong for the first time when you were 9, daily visits to the garden, meeting his dad, kissing him when you were 14. Everything hit you like a wave. You took a small step forward, barely moving. “Hongjoong.” The two of you slowly made your way to each other, both of you a little cautious. Once you were right in front of each other, you took a moment to just take him in.

He was handsome, he had grown into one of the most handsome men you had ever seen, if not the most handsome. He tentatively brought his hand to your cheek as if he was worried you'd back away from him. His thumb made soft movements against your face, his eyes boring into yours. “I thought I'd never see you again. I've waited. Every day I come out and take care of the flowers I planted for you, hoping I'll see you walk up. I've missed you so much. I'm sorry for the last conversation we had.”

You felt tears forming and you did your best to blink them away. You leaned into his touch, relishing in his warmth. You had so many questions for him, but you couldn't bring yourself to ask yet. Your brain was screaming at you to touch him. You quickly reached for him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. He took no time in hugging you back, squeezing a little tighter. “I'm sorry it took so long for me to come back.” Your words were spoken into his chest, coming out a bit muffled. He must have heard you because he responded immediately. “You're here now. That's all that matters.”

Hongjoong pulled you inside, asking you to tell him about the 10 years he had missed. You told him about your high school and college graduations, moving to the city, becoming a writer. His gaze never wavered from you, fully enthralled in what you had to say. Every now and then he would give your thigh a squeeze. Once you had filled him in on your life, you asked him the same. He could see you looking around the house, obviously wondering where his father was. He let his head fall forward a little.

“Dad died about 3 years ago, it's just me now.” Your heart sank. He had lost the only person he had. He had been completely alone for 3 years. Guilt ran through your body. As if he knew what you were thinking, he grabbed your hand. “Please don't feel guilty. You had a life to live and death is natural.” Your questions finally made their way back to the forefront of your mind. Taking a deep breath, you squeezed his hand. “Joong. Why can't you leave the garden?”

He was silent for a while, gathering his words. “Dad explained everything to me before he died. There was a woman who was in love with him. She had asked him to be with her multiple times, but he always turned her down. When he met my mom, things got bad. He was the gardener here and we lived on the property. In this house, actually.” He paused, taking a deep breath before he continued. 

“She continued to try to change Dad's mind even after he married Mom and I was born, but he still refused. Mom had left to go to town one day and Dad and I were playing in the garden, it was pansies then.” He gave a sad chuckle and met your eyes, gaging your reaction as he continued. 

“Your aunt came to the garden, looking for Dad. She started talking, but she wasn't making any sense. Next thing Dad knew, she was gone. He went looking for her, but when he got to the gate, he couldn't leave. The gate would open, but he couldn't step out. We were trapped.” You could feel the tears running down your face. You were filled with sadness, but also rage. How could Helen do this? Mrs. Kim had been right all along.

“The last thing Dad heard was your aunt telling him that he would stay here until he realized that they weren't meant to be. She said until true love was realized. She said we wouldn't be able to be found, especially by my mother. So, I'm stuck here. I don't even know anything about Mom.” The tears were falling harder now. You knew you had to tell him, but it was so hard.

“I found news articles about your disappearance. Your mother never stopped looking. She looked until she died.” Hongjoong looked broken. He had lost everyone, and he had lost you for years. Every bit of emotion you had ever had for Hongjoong had hit you full force. You had forgotten him, yes, but your heart had apparently not. You decided right then that even though you weren’t sure how, you’d figure out how to get him out of the garden.

You kept returning to see Hongjoong every day for weeks. You were sure that Helen was getting suspicious, but you did your best to keep her from figuring out where you were going. The two of you talked like old times, sometimes even playing tag and hide and seek like you had when you were kids. Hongjoong still had the books the two of you would read all those years ago, and it became a routine of reading together. You had even taken trips to the library to bring him new books to read, which he was immensely grateful for. 

After a month of daily visits, you were sure that you were in love with Hongjoong. You suspected that some part of you always had been, but you were old enough to understand the things you were feeling. You wanted to tell him, but you were nervous. You knew that he would never treat you badly for telling him that you had fallen in love with him, but the fear was still there. The sight of his house made you forget about your worry immediately. He was standing outside, just like he always was. His back was turned to you while he was bent down watering the gardenias that bloomed around the house. With a smirk, you quietly walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. He jumped with a small shriek and turned to face you with a pout. 

“That wasn’t funny. You scared the hell out of me.” You couldn’t help but laugh, remembering how you had said those words to him so many years ago. “Consider that payback for scaring me when we were 9.” The pout disappeared from his face and was replaced with the bright smile you loved to see him wear. Looking at him now, you were definitely in love with him. Without giving it a second thought, you pushed forward, lips meeting his. 

It took him a moment to react, obviously surprised. As soon as he realized what was happening, his lips started to move against yours. Your heart was soaring, you were absolutely sure that you could kiss him every second of the day and never get tired of the feeling. One of his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you closer, the other making it up to your cheek. Time seemed to stop as the two of you kissed until you had to separate for air. The two of you stared at each other, just taking everything in. “I love you, Joong.” 

Your eyes widened as you heard your own voice. That was definitely not planned. You dropped your gaze, feeling a bit embarrassed. Hongjoong’s fingers found your chin, tilting your face up. “Do you know what gardenias mean?” The question caused you a little confusion, but you shook your head. “Gardenias mean secret love. I planted these because it was my way of telling you that I loved you.  I’ve been in love with you since I was 15. I didn’t realize it until after you left. At first I thought it was just that I missed the only friend I had ever had, but that wasn’t it.” You smiled at him softly, letting him speak until he had said all he needed to say. “I knew it wasn’t that when I would go to the gate every day and just read and wait. I would hear voices on the other side every now and then and I always hoped that it was you. I stopped caring about whether or not I would ever leave the garden, as long as I had you here with me.” He ended his thoughts with a peck to your forehead. 

The tears came again, damn him for being so sweet. “Hongjoong? Will you make love to me?” He took a step back from you and you were sure that you had fucked up. He lowered his head to hide the blush that decorated his cheeks. “I don’t know how.” His voice was only a whisper, and you mentally kicked yourself for not thinking about that. “It’s ok. I’m sorry. We don’t have t-” Your voice was cut short as he stepped forward to grab your hand. “But I want to. Is that ok?” 

Hongjoong laid you onto his bed with shaking hands. Your lips had been pushed against each other since he had told you that he wanted to make love to you. Your heart was so full. You could tell he was nervous. “Joong. Take as long as you need. We don't have to do this now.” Your reassurance seemed to relax the man. “I want to do this now. I'm just nervous.” He gave an embarrassed chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. 

You reached down, rubbing him over his pants. His hips bucked into your hand and he let out a sigh at the contact. He buried his face in your neck, leaving small kisses along your skin. One of his hands slid up your body to your breast, giving it a cautious squeeze. You let out a small moan, letting him know he was doing the right thing. 

The sound seemed to relieve him of some of his nervousness, causing him to nibble on your neck and slide his hand further down your body, stopping over your clothed core. Due to the dress you were wearing, he was able to feel your damp panties, moaning at the feeling. “So wet.” His lips were back on yours immediately. His movements weren't completely on target, but you let him experiment until he found what made you moan the loudest. 

He leaned back, slipping his pants off, leaving him only in his boxers. Looking over him, you could tell that he had made them himself. You could also tell that he was very well endowed. Hongjoong moved to hover over you, resting on his arm beside your head. An idea popped in your head and you hoped it would help with his nerves.

You pulled back from his lips just long enough to speak. “Thrust your hips forward. We can start over our clothes.” His face relaxed a bit as he thrust into your core. His cock hit your clit on the first try and you moaned as your lips found his again. Hongjoong kept a slow pace and you assumed it was an attempt to not cum early. You would have been fine if he had, just having him like this at all was enough. 

He was obviously a natural, hitting the right spot every time he moved his hips. Your hands found their place on his back, nails digging in slightly. He groaned into the kiss and you made a note to push a little further next time. His breathing began to quicken. He pulled back from your body, a little flush on his cheeks. “I don't want to cum yet and I was getting close.” 

You let him know that it was ok if he came, but he shook his head. “You first. You just may have to help me.” You pecked his lips with a nod. Grabbing his hand, you slipped it under the hem of your panties, placing it directly on your clit. “Rub in slow circles, only a little bit of pressure.” He immediately got to work and again, he was a natural. 

His lips found yours yet again, his tongue rubbing at the seam of your lips. Giving him entry to your mouth, your tongues tangled in a perfect dance. You let him lead the kiss, knowing he would do it right. His playing with your clit felt good, but you needed a little more. You pulled away again to give a few more instructions. “Keep your thumb on my clit and slide your fingers down. I need you to finger me.” The circles on your clit stopped for barely a second before he moved into action.

Sliding his index and middle fingers down your pussy to your entrance, he groaned. He suddenly stopped, eyes meeting yours. “Can I see you? All of you?” You gave him a soft smile and a nod reaching to take your dress off. He grabbed the edges of your panties and slide them down your legs. And then he stared. Just stared.

You started to get a little self conscious, squirming. “Beautiful.” His voice was barely audible, but it made your heart flutter. He admired you a little longer before he moved his hand back into position. This thumb found your clit as if he had been doing this for years. His fingers circled your entrance and he smirked at the whine you let out as your hips bucked into his hand. 

He leaned down to kiss you as he slipped his index finger inside of you. You moaned against his lips, wrapping your arms back around him. Just like with his thrusts earlier, he kept his pace slow. After a few slides of his finger, his middle finger joined his index. The feeling of being slightly more full than only a second ago had your head spinning. You were about to pull away to tell him to curl his fingers when he did that on his own. Your nails dug into his back again, causing him to pick up his pace.

You were getting close and you couldn't tell if it was because he was a quick learner, or if it was just him. You didn't care. Hongjoong whined as you began to squeeze his fingers, picking up his pace again. He was the one to pull away this time, moving his face back to your neck. His lips found your ear, biting your lobe slightly. “Cum for me, my love.” And that was all it took for you to cum around his fingers.

He kept his pace until you were pushing his arm away. “Sensitive.” He pulled his hand away from you, looking at your wetness on his fingers. He looked like he was thinking about something, then slowly lifted his hand to his mouth, pushing his fingers into his mouth. The moan he let out was obscene and it made you clench around nothing. You were still a bit winded when you reached for his boxers, letting him know you wanted them off.

He was big, but not too big. His cock was perfect. He positioned himself over you again, giving you another small peck to your lips. He reached down to wrap his hand around his member, placing it at your entrance. He looked up at you. “Ready?” You gave him a nod and he pushed into you slowly, causing you both to moan in unison. Once he was fully seated inside of you, he paused, letting himself get used to the feeling. 

You rubbed his back, trying to help him relax. After a few moments, he pulled his hips back, leaving only the tip of his cock inside of you before he pushed himself back in. He sped up a little, relishing in the feeling of your walls wrapped tightly around him. You could tell by the look on his face that he wouldn't last much longer, and all you wanted was to see him cum. To fill you completely. “It's ok, baby. Cum whenever you're ready. Don't hold back.” 

He sped his hips again, his moans getting louder. His thrusts were getting sloppy and you dug your nails into his back. “I love you, Hongjoong.” He shivered and let out the loudest moan yet as his hips stopped and his seed began to fill you. “I love you. I love you so much.” His words were shaky, but full of emotion. Once he calmed down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

It took two months for your aunt to finally say something to you about the garden. You had woken up, brushed your teeth and changed, and had breakfast before you walked out to go see Hongjoong. This had become such a routine that you could do it without thought. Just as you were approaching the missing boards, a voice came from behind you. “And just where are you going, dear niece?” Your body stiffened as you turned to face her. 

Her face was full of rage. You stood your ground, she had hurt so many people already. You wouldn't let her hurt anyone else. “I'm going to the garden you trapped two innocent people in.” Her face twisted into absolute hatred. “You ungrateful brat. I let you into my home and you disrespect me. How dare you?” It was your turn to feel rage.

“How dare I? How dare YOU? You couldn't accept that you weren't wanted and you cursed an entire family. You took a son and husband away from a woman who did nothing but love a man. You're disgusting.” 

You turned your back to Helen, intent on continuing your trek to see Hongjoong. Your aunt took the opportunity to grab your arm and pull you back towards her. “You will not go back there. I forbid it. If you continue to disobey you can go back to your life in the city.” You tried to pull your arm back, but Helen was stronger than she looked. “Let go of me you wretched woman!”

Hongjoong heard you yell from the garden and his feet moved faster than his brain. He ran to the garden gate, pulling on it, not even thinking twice when it opened for the first time in his life. When he stepped onto the other side, he noticed you with an older woman's hand wrapped around your arm. He saw red. He ran forward, wrapping his arms around the older woman and doing his best to pull her off of you. He managed to get her away, but she quickly broke free from his grip.

“Helen, that is enough!” Steven's voice drew everyone's attention. He was standing a few feet away, Julia by his side. He held a large book in his hand, which he handed to Julia. “This has gone on for too long, it's time to let it go. The boy has done nothing to you.” Helen made eye contact with Julia, noticing the book she held tight to her chest. 

“Yes, I found your book, not that you really hid it.” Steven's voice brought her attention back to him. “You. I don't know how you did it, but this reeks of your doing.” Her words were filled with venom, but Steven looked unbothered. He straightened his back, standing tall and proud.

“You may have forced me into silence about this situation, but I'm a crafty man. You never noticed Miss Y/N's notebooks, but I did.” Everything clicked into place. The sudden appearance of the notebooks, Steven's cryptic words. Everything made sense now.

Hongjoong stepped next to you, both of you still not realizing he had left the garden. His hand reached for yours, intertwining your fingers. You both focused on Steven, waiting for his next words.

“For years I have been forced into this sham of a marriage, into silence about how awful you are. And now it's over. The boy has made it out of the garden, Helen. True love has been realized. Your curse is broken.” 

Everyone seemed to realize that Hongjoong was free at the same time. Heads whipped to face him. Helen’s expression full of anger, yours of awe, and Hongjoong's of confusion. You wrapped your arms around him immediately, bringing him into a hug. It took him a moment to catch up to your enthusiasm, but it wasn't long before he held you tight against him.

“Now, if Miss Julia will help me, we have something planned for you. See, you're not the only one that read this little magic book of yours. We've waited for the day the boy could leave the garden. Now, he's made that garden into a home and I see no reason to take that from him. But a little garden of your own seems appropriate.”

With that, Julia began to read from the book. Her words were quick, not giving Helen enough time to make it to her to stop her. In a flash, Helen was gone. You looked at Julia, confused. You had thought that Helen's new home would appear in front of you. “I never said the garden would be here” 

It didn't take much consideration to decide to stay with Hongjoong in the house he grew up in. The garden was covered in the flowers that he planted for you. It was where your love story began, and it would be where your love story would end. 

Steven reported Helen missing and as her legal husband, that you still didn't understand, he got ownership of the estate. He had tried to give it to you, but you refused. You didn't need the big house, you just needed Hongjoong. 

You received a call from your publisher, letting you know the good news. The draft of your novel had been approved. “You still haven't told me the name of this book, my love.” You smiled at your husband, giving him a sweet kiss. Leaning to place your lips next to his ear, you whispered lowly. “The Secret Garden.”

[vanillawurld]

༊*·˚ Wait For Your Love

✧.* Pair - Joost Klein x Fem! Reader

✧.* Tags & Warnings - Angst, crying, alcohol, kissing, cussing, fluff at the end.

✧.* Summary - After not seeing each other for almost a year due to a breakup, a whirlwind of emotions flooded both Joost and (Y/N). The desperation to be with each other again took over for the both of them.

✧.* Extra- We can't be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande crying emoji heartbreak emoji.

✧.* Word Count - 1,998

The club was always packed with drunk assholes and beautiful women dancing. It was a place to have fun. Dance, drink, and not worry about tomorrow (unless someone had to work). (Y/N) and her friends decided to go clubbing to celebrate a friend’s birthday. Everyone wanted to get shit-faced drunk and some wanted to end up in a man or woman’s bed by the end of the night. (Y/N) couldn’t wait to get drunk and dance her ass off to the music that was playing. As soon as they get into the place, everyone was already ordering shots and mixed drinks.

Even though she wanted to get drunk, (Y/N) decided to get mixed drinks because she hated the bitter taste of hard liquor in tiny shot glasses. She decided to take her night a little slow to be more alive in the club. (Y/N) felt like she needed the time out with her friends. After a massive heart break 10 months ago, it felt like she couldn’t move from her home, especially her bed. Her friends would try to get her to hang out, but most of the time all she wanted to do was stay in bed and stalk her ex-boyfriend’s social media.

By the time she was on her second mixed drink, some of her friends were already on their 4th shot of the night. The music was starting to get to everyone and they all dragged each other to where everyone was dancing. The DJ was playing American 2000’s music so the whole club was dancing and/or grinding on one another. (Y/N) and her best friend were dancing and practically grinding on each other to the beat of the music while singing and laughing together. Everyone was having the best time.

That was until (Y/N) mysteriously smelled a familiar scent she hadn’t smelled in a while. His scent. She slowly stopped dancing and started looking around to see if she can catch him somewhere in the crowd. (Y/N)’s best friend looked at her, “Are you okay? What happened?”

(Y/N) didn’t want to ruin everyone’s night with the topic of her ex-boyfriend, “Im fine, girl. I just need to use the bathroom and then im gonna get a shot.” (Y/N) walked away but stopped when she felt someone grab her wrist. She turned around and saw her best friend holding her wrist.

“Do you want me to go with you?” She asked. (Y/N) simply shook her head and continued making her way to the restroom. (Y/N) thanked God when she saw there wasn’t a line to go to the bathroom. She immediately walked in and looked at herself in the mirror.

She let out a sigh and was trying to convince her brain to not freak out because she smelled his scent. She didn’t want to ruin everyones night, she just wanted to have fun with no worries. She quickly fixed her lip liner and lips and head out to the bar. When she got to the bar to order her drink, she had a feeling someone was watching her. She decided to ignore it because there were a lot of people in the club so it didn’t matter.

The feeling of being watched got stronger by the seconds and it bothered (Y/N). She looked around to catch whoever was staring at her and when she turned around, she locked eyes with him. Joost Klein, her ex-boyfriend. She felt her heart race and her stomach drop to the floor. He looked extremely handsome and beautiful. They stared at each other strongly until the bartender put (Y/N)’s drink on the table, making her break the contact and turn around.

Even though they stared at each other for a couple of seconds, it felt like an eternity for them. (Y/N) leaned forward towards the bar table and let out a deep sigh. She was trying to keep herself together. Tapping her foot against the floor, sighing, but all of that didn’t work because she felt her eyes start to water. She knew she couldn’t stay in that place much longer. She didn’t want to look like the weird bitch crying in the club. She quickly took her shot and sped out the doors, walking toward the empty side of the club wall. She started to hyperventilate before letting the tears spill. She covered her mouth to prevent making any sound, but everything was going crazy in her mind, she didn’t care who listened.

Beautiful moments between (Y/N) and Joost started flashing in her mind. (Y/N) truly loved Joost. She still loves him. She truly felt a connection with that man. He always took care of her and she returned the nurturing energy all the time. They never had a dull day together, it was always filled with happiness and laughter. Everyday was a blessing for them. Everyone, fans and friends, idolized their relationship, so when they broke up, everyone was filled with shock and confusion.

The day Joost left (Y/N) was the day she died. She didn’t want to go out anymore. She had no motivation to do the things she loved. Everything reminded her of Joost. Even when she went to the places her and Joost last visited together, she would always tear up a bit. The truth was, (Y/N) was waiting for Joost to come back. She was waiting for his love to find itself back to her. The more she waited, the worse she got. (Y/N) slowly started detaching herself from him 7 months after the break up and was slowly started bettering herself. But in that moment in the club, felt like all of her self improvement was tossed out the window.

While (Y/N) was in her head, she hadn’t notice a tall male figure walking towards her side. When she looked, it felt like her heart skipped a beat. There he was, staring at her with a yearning look with sadness in his eyes. (Y/N)’s tears started coming in more but she didn’t want to cry more in front of him so she looked away and looked up at the sky.

“Hey,” she heard Joost say. That didn’t make things better. Hearing his voice made her tear up even more. At that point, she didn’t care and let her tears flow.

“Hi,” she said back.

Joost stared at (Y/N) and started tearing up as well. He was finally looking at his girl again after almost a year of not being able to. Even with running mascara, puffy lips, red eyes, and a tired look on her face, she still looked pretty as ever to him. He rubbed his eyes to get rid of his teary eyes and got closer to her. “How are you?” was all he said.

“Uhm, i’m… doing good, I guess. What about you?” she asked.

“Im doing pretty well too. I just saw the most gorgeous girl at the club, but she walked out and now she’s crying,” he said. He wanted to lighten up the mood. While his body language gave off zero energy, deep down he wanted to hold (Y/N) and kiss her tears away. Joost missed (Y/N) more than anything and seeing her teary eyed made his heart ache.

(Y/N) let out a chuckle and went silent. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two until Joost broke the silence, “I’ve missed you.”

That made (Y/N) tear up even more. “Then why did you leave me,” She asked.

Joost stayed silent for a moment before answering, “Honestly, I don’t know why. At the time, my mental health was down the toilet and I thought you were the reason why. I thought leaving you was going to fix it.”

Hearing that made (Y/N)’s heart ache. “Did it?” she asked.

“No. It didn’t. It actually got worse. When I realized you weren’t the problem, I felt like it was too late for me. I thought you hated me and didn’t want to talk to me. I thought of that saying you told your friend once ‘You made your bed, so now lay in it’ and that’s exactly what I did. I punished myself for ruining something so beautiful,” he replied.

Deep down, (Y/N) was happy when she realized she wasn’t the problem. But at the same time, she was sad for Joost when he thought she was mad at him. “Can I tell you something?” she asked and he nodded, “I was never mad at you. You could never be mad at someone you truly love.”

Love.

She said love. Not loved. That made Joost smile.

“For a good few months, I was stuck in a delusion that you would come back. I wanted to reach out to you so badly, but my friends kept telling me to let you feel my absence and that that was the best thing to make someone realize their mistake,” she continued.

“They were right,” he spoke, “when I realized you were gone, I wanted to crawl back to your apartment and beg for your forgiveness. I had no one to text me ‘good morning’, ‘good night’, ‘i love you’, ‘i miss you,’ it was hell for me.”

Their confessions made both of them realize that they were still in love with each other. They never stopped. They followed through with the, ‘if it was meant to be, let it be,’ and it brought them back. They never gave up on each other, even when they were apart. That is the true beauty of love.

Joost grabbed (Y/N)’s chin, making her look up at him with her beautiful teary doe eyes. “baby, I am so sorry for breaking your heart. I regret it so much and seeing you makes my heart ache and happy at the same time. I would do anything to be with you again,” he said with a yearning voice.

All (Y/N) could do was look at him. Her eyes started to become more teary. “I love you. I never stopped loving you,” she replied. They both started getting closer and closer until their lips touched. It was electrifying for both of them. The more their lips were in contact, the more loving and passionate it became. (Y/N) wrapped her hands around the back of his neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist, deepening the kiss.

When they pulled away, they looked at each other in the eyes. Deepening the intimate moment. The moment was ruined when Joost’s phone rang. When Joost checked who it was, (Y/N) saw it was one of his friend’s. She frowned because she thought their moment was over, but instead, Joost ignored the call and pulled her close to him by the waist. He laid his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes, wishing this was his forever moment.

They stayed like that for a couple of minutes. Getting comfortable and feeling each other’s presence after months of not being able to. It all felt like a dream come true. Until reality hit (Y/N). She didn’t want to break away from the moment, but she kind of had no choice,

“Joost.”

“Hm?”

“I have to go.”

“No, you don’t.”

(Y/N) giggled, “I do. My friends are probably looking for me and I have to visit family tomorrow in the morning,” she said while pulling away from his embrace. Joost and frowned. He didn’t want her to go. (Y/N) kissed him on the cheek and started walking away.

Joost watched as she walked away before calling her name, “Can we… call tonight?” he said, referring to staying on facetime while they slept like they use to. (Y/N) nodded and blew him a kiss. Joost practically sprinted towards her and passionately kissed her, one last time for that night.

“I’ll call you when I get home,” She said.

“You promise?”

“I promise, handsome.” She said. He raised his pinky, indicating a pinky promise gesture. She raised her pinky and hooked it onto his. Settling the promise.

˖◛. *. ⋆ Vanilla Speaks

Guys was this good be honest also im too lazy to spell check

[oceansprompts]

text message prompts

[text] You okay?

[text] GO TO BED!

[text] hey you better be alive in there

[text] SOS save me please holy shit

[text] call me this date is going so bad

[text] I have way too much shit to do.

[text] Honestly I'm really worried about you.

[text] Why are you trending on Twitter?

[text] Please let me come over and pet your (pet).

[text] We are in the same building, you could come talk to me.

[text] It's not going to work out.

[text] This is a terrible idea.

[text] people have fetishes

[text] They really do crucify anyone these days huh

[text] I don't know why but that really means me want to stab you

[text] That movie was awful.

[text] For the love of god please help me

[text] I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.

[text] I'm blocking you.

[text] YOU ONE BRAINCELLED BITCH

[text] I regret swiping right.

[text] Everyone lies on their dating profiles.

[text] That absolutely can't be an actual picture of you.

[text] This forced open my third eye and I saw the devil

[text] I'm like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

-

[text] That's just all fucking sorts of fucked up

[text] Why are we here? To suffer? Every other day I get messages that cause pain

[text] In the department of old man fucking, we've got you beat.

[text] have you gotten any work done?

[text] I am beyond shame, try again

[text] You left your left your underwear at my place.

[text] Don't you dare put this on Facebook.

[text] My brother in Christ you're being haunted

[text] I want to wring you like a wet towel and slap you against a wall

[text] The mind is weak but the body is funky

[text] I'm a zombie the law can't stop me.

[text] Jealous of my massive honkers

[text] We left you to die to play minecraft

[text] She would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

[text] I puked all over the Uber driver's backseat.

[text] I just took a screenshot of that and posted it to Reddit

[text] You said you'd be right back and it's been months.

[text] Can't we talk about this face to face?

[text] Yeah, you'll come learn I just have a thing for milk

[text] Why did you like one of my pics from 2014?

[text] Now's as good a time as any to exchange nudes.

[text] Why would you send me an eggplant emoji?

[text] I write five paragraphs, pouring my heart out, and all you reply with is k?!

[text] Who would dare to lie on the internet?

[text] When I die, please delete all my shit off the internet

[text] He's so hot, I briefly started texting like a straight person

[text] And because I'm god and I've decided that; no, in fact, I'm not done.

-

[text] I know you love bloopy reggae jams, now is not the time.

[text] You better not be standing catatonic in your room again.

[text] God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

[text]: My neighbor just told me he can fix my water heater for 50 bucks. I’m skeptical.

[text]: Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy apples? I paid 10 dollars for 6.

[text]: I mean, I wouldn’t say I have a problem with buying Squishmallows..

[text]: Hey, so you know how you told me no dog? *sends pic* I don’t do well with no’s.

[text] Stuart Little is a bitch and Remy could take him any day.

[text]: My roommate just said that Lola Bunny is hot. I’m moving out.

[text]: Hey I posted that vid of you drunk, singing Ariana Grande, wearing all black and people said not to do it again. Sorry.

[text]: Do you think the price is ever right? Like, I feel like it’s not.

[text]: I booped your nose. Boop the last five people you texted or–nothing happens really.

[text]: I’m actually in the ER and it’s a long story that involves Best Day Ever from spongebob.

[text]: I fucking hate you–wait you’re not my ex. Who are you?

[text]: You ever ask yourself if birds see a bee and just go ‘wow a bee’? im high.

[text]: sometimes all i think about is–sour patch kids. bet you thought it was you.

[text]: I love you—not as much as I love my dog. But still a lot!

[text]: I found a cat on the way home and now it’s mine. But it hates my guts so this should be fun.

[text]: I have questions about the marvel cinematic universe…how long do you have?

[text]: why do donald duck and winnie the pooh not have to wear pants but other people do?

[text]: Hey you know that show floor is lava? I may have turned the apartment into that..this isn’t a joke, btw. the floor is sticky.

[text]: I bought too much soap off etsy and now I don’t know what to do with it…I smell like Captain America.

[text]: On a scale of one to ten, how many drinks would you need to sleep with me? This isn’t a tiktok trend…or it is.

[topsmirae]

🔮 Pick a Pile: How Would Your Life Be as a K-Pop Idol?

Take a deep breath. Center yourself. Which pile/emoji pulls you in? 🎤✨🖤 🎧💎🌙

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🎤 Pile 1 As a K-pop idol, you shine brightest on stage. Performance is where you come alive—your charisma, stage presence, and undeniable charm captivate audiences worldwide. Fans are drawn to your magnetic energy, the way your confidence lights up a room. You’re known for your power moves, unforgettable facial expressions, and the way you pour your heart into every routine.

Behind the scenes, your work ethic is unmatched. You’re likely the one practicing late into the night, pushing yourself beyond your limits not because you have to—but because you want to be better. This dedication earns you deep respect from peers and staff alike. You’re seen as the group’s leader or motivator, someone others rely on when the pressure gets intense.

Fame does take its toll. Sometimes you struggle with the heavy expectations and the need to always be “on.” But your fans (and fanbase is massive) constantly remind you that your presence means something. You’ll have fan letters from people saying you gave them the courage to keep going. And even when you're tired, that keeps you grounded.

Your style becomes iconic, especially for bold outfits and edgy looks. You’re constantly booked for brand deals, CFs, and variety shows. You may even launch your own fashion collab or streetwear line. Your name becomes synonymous with strength and presence—someone who owns their power and uses their voice.

🌟 Vibe: Fire on stage, loyal fans, fierce independence 🛠️ Strengths: Performance, charisma, drive 💬 Signature Quote: “If I’m going to do it, I’m going to give it everything.”

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✨ Pile 2 Your idol life is a dream come true—not just for you, but for the fans who fall for your ethereal energy. You're the visual, the one with a soft but captivating presence. Your aura is pure elegance, and everything from your smile to the way you wave during fan meets leaves people enchanted. You carry a sense of calm that balances your group, offering quiet comfort amidst the chaos of the industry.

You’re deeply in tune with emotions—both yours and others’. This makes you a natural at connecting with fans through songwriting or heartfelt video messages. You're known for that one solo song or performance that goes viral—not because it was flashy, but because it felt real. People cry watching you sing.

Your life as an idol is gentle yet powerful. You gravitate toward artistry—photography, journaling, writing lyrics late at night. Though you're not the loudest in the group, you're one of the most beloved. You’re thoughtful in interviews and adored for your authenticity. You’ll probably be the idol with a dedicated fancam that gains millions of views for your soft expressions during an encore stage.

That said, you sometimes wrestle with impostor syndrome, questioning if you're “enough” in such a competitive world. But your growth is steady and beautiful to witness. Eventually, you may even release a solo album that charts well because it’s so emotionally raw and unique.

🌟 Vibe: Angelic presence, poetic soul, slow-burn success 🎨 Strengths: Emotional connection, artistic depth 💬 Signature Quote: “Even soft things can leave a deep impact.”

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🖤 Pile 3 As a K-pop idol, you’re the enigmatic force—the one fans are drawn to without fully understanding why. You exude a mysterious charm, and even when you’re quiet, your presence is undeniable. You likely become known as the “cool one,” the member with a sharp jawline, iconic expressions, and a deep voice that commands attention. You don’t chase attention—it finds you.

Your image may be dark, edgy, or unconventional. Think smoky eye makeup, leather jackets, and late-night V-Lives where you speak softly but say exactly what fans need to hear. You have a strong inner world and may struggle with letting people in at first. Still, over time, fans and groupmates come to see your true nature: loyal, introspective, and fiercely protective.

You bring intensity to your artistry. Whether it’s rapping with raw emotion or dancing like you’re telling a story with your body, your performances leave a lasting mark. You’re often praised for your creative direction—music video concepts, choreography ideas, and styling inspiration. You may eventually become involved in production or direct a music video yourself.

Despite your strength, you carry hidden vulnerabilities. You’re a perfectionist and can be hard on yourself. But you learn to transform that into growth. Your fanbase becomes a space where others who feel “different” or misunderstood find acceptance through your authenticity.

You might eventually branch into acting, alternative music, or artistic fashion—whatever lets you express your inner complexity. And when you speak at award shows, people listen. Every word feels like poetry.

🌟 Vibe: Velvet nights, whispered secrets, fierce self-expression 🧠 Strengths: Aesthetic vision, emotional depth, quiet leadership 💬 Signature Quote: “You don’t need to be loud to be unforgettable.”

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🎧 Pile 4 Your life as a K-pop idol would be defined by fun, connection, and versatility. You’re the all-rounder: a triple threat who can sing, dance, rap—and charm anyone in the room. You're the mood-maker, always cracking jokes backstage, lifting spirits, and bringing warmth wherever you go. Fans love you for your natural charisma and authenticity. You're the idol who goes viral not just for killer performances, but also for funny memes, iconic interviews, or dance challenges.

Your bond with your group is strong—you’re the glue that holds everyone together. You create a sense of family within the team. You’re the one cheering for everyone else, hyping them up during their solo stages, and celebrating even the small wins. Fans call you their “emotional support idol” because you make them feel seen and understood.

Musically, you may thrive on upbeat tracks, fun choreography, and songs that get stuck in your head. But when it’s time to get serious, you surprise everyone with your ability to deliver powerful emotional moments. Variety shows adore you, and you’re often invited back because of your energy and relatability.

Your fame skyrockets because you’re genuine. People fall in love with you—not just the idol version, but the real you. Whether it’s vlogs, fan calls, or behind-the-scenes moments, your true personality shines through and builds an incredibly loyal fanbase.

In time, you might transition into MC roles, variety show hosting, or even launch your own creative brand. Your versatility and people skills give you longevity in the industry.

🌟 Vibe: Golden retriever energy, fan-favorite, all-around star 🎤 Strengths: Variety, emotional intelligence, charisma 💬 Signature Quote: “Let’s just have fun and do it together.”

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💎 Pile 5 Your K-pop idol life would be polished, luxurious, and filled with major main character energy. From the moment you debut, people know you're meant for the spotlight. You have a regal vibe—poised, confident, effortlessly stylish. You’re the member known for going viral with airport fashion, red carpet looks, and those iconic "ending fairy" close-ups that leave fans breathless.

You command attention. Whether it's your vocals, visuals, or sheer stage presence, you're unforgettable. But you’re not just about appearances. You’re incredibly disciplined and focused behind the scenes. You treat this career like an art form and a business. You might be the one attending meetings with stylists, suggesting ideas for music video concepts, and practicing until every move is exactly right.

You rise fast—and your success is global. You may become the group’s first member to land a solo CF, walk a Paris runway, or collaborate with a major international artist. Luxury brands want you as an ambassador. You’re invited to exclusive galas and fashion weeks—and you shine just as bright offstage as you do on it.

Despite all the glitz, you’re deeply grounded. You know how much effort it takes to maintain the image, and you’re not afraid of hard work. Some may mistake you for aloof, but your inner circle knows you’re loyal, thoughtful, and driven by passion. You're always pushing for more—not just for yourself, but for your group’s legacy.

Eventually, you may launch a solo line, a high-fashion brand, or even move into film. Whatever you do, you do with elegance.

🌟 Vibe: Designer heels, rooftop photoshoots, champagne success 💎 Strengths: Star power, leadership, high standards 💬 Signature Quote: “If I do it, it’s going to be iconic.”

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🌙 Pile 6 Your K-pop idol journey would feel like a soulful odyssey—full of quiet growth, deep impact, and genuine connection. You’re the introspective member, the one fans call their “comfort idol.” Your energy is calming, your voice soothing, and your performances feel like healing spells. You’re more than an idol—you’re a storyteller.

People are drawn to your sincerity. You may not be the loudest, but when you speak, it matters. You’re the idol who makes heartfelt speeches at fan meetings, who writes honest letters to fans, who posts late-night thoughts that resonate on a soul level. You’re emotionally intelligent and often the person your groupmates confide in. You carry others through hard times without needing the credit.

Your artistry shines through subtlety—maybe your vocals are soft but haunting, or your dancing is delicate yet powerful. You might release a solo EP filled with acoustic ballads or lo-fi vibes, paired with dreamy visuals. Fans listen to your songs to cry, to heal, to feel something real in a world that often feels fake.

You’re very connected to nature, dreams, and spiritual energy. You may practice meditation or use journaling and crystals to stay centered. Over time, you’ll inspire fans to slow down, reconnect with themselves, and chase authentic joy—not perfection.

You may not chase fame, but it comes to you anyway because of how genuine you are. Later in your career, you might become a producer, therapist, or even write a book. You’ll always be remembered as someone who changed lives through gentle truth.

🌟 Vibe: Warm candlelight, late-night walks, soul-deep resonance 🌿 Strengths: Empathy, artistry, authenticity 💬 Signature Quote: “Fame fades, but honesty lasts forever.”

[dearsnow]

THE LAST TIME

- ten out of the countless times you have seen neil perry, and nine where you saw him alive. (neil perry x gn! implied to be shy reader, fluff to angst, canon-typical main character death, major spoilers for dps but i assume you’ve watched it before, i included my own poetry so i hope y’all like it, sad face emoji i teared up while writing this).

word count: 9,006

a/n - thank you so so much to my beta readers @sorencd and @chuudidit for reading this massive piece, i appreciate you endlessly <3 this was definitely a labor of love, one that i took a considerable amount of time to write and edit. i adore dead poets society and poetry in general (i have written 130+ poems and never plan on stopping) so i definitely needed to put my thoughts into words lol 😭 anyways, i hope you enjoy, because i definitely enjoyed writing this for you.

When Neil Perry first saw you, and god, did he see you, he knew nothing would ever be the same again.

You were simply sitting there under the old tree just outside the borders of Welton with a book under your nose and the soft rays of a flashlight filtering through your hair. You had one knee up, holding the book in a gentle balancing act as he stared. Charlie gave him a nudge, eyebrows raised and a tease on the tip of his tongue, but Neil couldn’t even move. He was completely and utterly dumbstruck. The moon was hanging above your head, full and bright, drowning you in a poetic haze. You flipped a page and he could feel his heart beating in his chest. He thought he had never seen anything so beautiful before, and he had no idea why.

After a long minute, he peeled his gaze away from the figure under the tree and followed the other dead poets to their second ever meeting. From the corner of his eye, he swore he saw you glance up at him when he passed, but no one else seemed to notice.

When Neil and the poets were walking back to Welton, you weren’t there- something Neil noticed instantly. Of course, being who he was, Todd noticed that Neil noticed, and Charlie noticed that Todd noticed, and before he knew it, Neil and his fixation were the new tortured topics of the evening. 

“Oh, love at first sight! The most beautiful kind.” Charlie teased, clasping his hands and spinning around. “How romantic.”

Neil shook his head, trying desperately to clear his suspicions. “It’s not like that. I swear, it’s not even a crush. I just thought it was weird.”

Cameron chimed in with a slightly hushed tone. At least he was aware of the fact that they were quickly approaching the earshot of every single person in Welton Academy. “I wonder where they came from. I mean, it couldn’t have been comfortable or safe to be out here at night. Especially alone.”

“Same. What do you think they were reading?” Neil responded, quick to try and put the teasing behind him. Despite his efforts, the teasing carried long into the night and the days following it. It seemed like nothing and no one would ever let him forget he ever saw you.

He would find out later that you were reading a poetry book.

He saw you for the second time on a trip to the main town. He recognized you instantly, from what little knowledge of you he had gained. You had the same hair, the same stature, the same book tucked under your arm as you peered into the musty old bookstore in the back corner. Just Todd was with him this time, and he definitely knew what was up.

Todd glanced at him, a warm expression on his face. Once again, Neil was entranced.

In the new glorious daylight, he noticed things he never could’ve before. The undertones of your hair, your skin, the way you seemed to glow even when you dipped into the shadows. He saw the pure beauty of you in a manner he had never seen anyone else in before. He took a step forward, pulled towards you somehow as his heart beat a mile a minute. The bookstore loomed over you, cracked and imperfect, yet casting the evening in a scene plucked out of a storybook. You turned, seeming to have seen him in the window’s reflection, and he flinched. He almost had a heart attack as his brain registered the color of your eyes and exactly how your mouth pulled up into a smile. Quickly turning away, he grabbed Todd’s sleeve and hightailed it out of there. Todd followed, as he always did. Neil was enamored, and Todd could tell.

“Do you think they saw me?” Neil gasped, pulling Todd into the square’s corner. He was panting lightly, red-cheeked, with a lopsided grin on his face. Todd had never seen him nervous, much less shy. In fact, he was the opposite- friendly, inclusive, and not the type to run away from a challenge. Something must have been different about you.

Todd raised his eyebrows. “Probably, Neil, they looked back.” He, too, saw your eyes, though he was mostly focused on the anxiety coursing through his veins rather than committing them to memory.

Neil’s gasping breaths were definitely louder than they needed to be. “Oh god, they definitely saw me. They probably think I’m a creep. Jesus, it’s definitely over.”

“What’s over?” Todd put a hand on his shoulder worriedly. “There was nothing there to begin with. They’re just a person, you’ll be fine.”

“Way to kill my dreams, Todd. Look, can you promise me that you won’t tell this to anyone else?” Neil asked, suddenly very serious. He glanced around like someone would waltz into the trash-filled and truthfully disgusting corner. The bathrooms were just around the bend, and he could smell it.

Intrigued, Todd nodded.

“I need you to say it. Promise me.” Neil whispered. His coat crinkled as he moved closer to Todd, the material dipping around his sweater. The fall air was the perfect background for whatever Neil was trying to get up to.

“I promise.”

Neil grinned boyishly and glanced around the corner again. “This is stupid, but I think I’m in love.” From the look in his eyes, Todd could definitely tell. His friend was suddenly more animated than he had been in a very long while, and he knew that he would do anything to keep him that way. His caution, however, took over.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. What if you never see them again?”

“And what if I do?” Neil breathed. “What if I see them tomorrow, or the next day, or a week from now? What if I see them every day of my life because I just went out and said something?”

Todd shook his head. “Just be careful, alright? There’s a very good chance that nothing will come of it.” Neil clasped Todd’s jacket, quirking his eyebrows.

“No.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“Just no.”

The first time you saw Neil Perry, you didn’t even know you saw him. You were sitting under a tree, reading an Emily Dickinson book you bought in the town’s bookstore. It was a way to relax to you. A way to forget all of your troubles and just enjoy the wonders of the world. You don’t know why you picked that tree, or why you stayed so long you had to use the flashlight you so hastily packed, but life has its ways of pulling you towards something you didn’t know existed.

The scenery was absolutely beautiful, even at night. You wrapped your thick coat tightly around your shoulders. The fall leaves beneath you gave a crackle and the moon hung high above your head, slightly illuminating your page. Welton Academy loomed just outside of your line of sight. It was beautiful, too, but something about the cold stone walls made you shiver.

As time slipped away, you began to hear a hushed cacophony of boys around your age coming out of the school to the side of you. They had their hoods up, laughing and giggling like they were in some sort of secret club. You looked up, and one of them stopped dead in his tracks. You could see his breaths clouding in the night as the others urged him forward. Your eyes drifted back down to your book, as if you were embarrassed. The moment broke, and he was on his way.

You weren’t there for his return back to Welton.

The second time you saw him, you noticed him a lot more clearly. You were window shopping just outside of the bookstore. Even though the building was dusty and marred, it smelled like home. It smelled like stories and adventures and comfort. You were a frequent visitor to this place, and one of the owner’s best customers. 

He often set up his new imports in the big, yellow-tinted window in front of you. As you gazed in, you noticed a face appear in the space next to you. You turned around partially, meeting his dark brown eyes. Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at him.

It was an electric moment. His lips were slightly parted, and the gray clouds above him were engorged with unshed tears. You gaped at him, dumbfounded, as milliseconds ticked away like hours.

Before you knew it, he had sped away with his friend in tow. Huh, you hadn’t even noticed he had a friend. All you could think about was the fact that he looked familiar, and the fact that he was the most handsome boy you had ever had the pleasure of locking eyes with.

His stature reminded you of the boy by the tree, the boy from Welton Academy. There was just something about him that screamed “you saw him once in a dream”.

Somehow, you thought one simple thought: you were in love with someone you did not know.

When Neil saw you for the third time, and the third time you saw him, he worked up the courage to talk to you.

Mr. Keating was instructing the boys outside yet again. They were in the courtyard, taking inspiration from the world around them. From leaves, patches of mud, anything that struck their fancy. 

You were taking a walk by campus. Once again, you didn’t know why; you just were. The boys were not a quiet group, and you could hear their shouts very clearly. You strained your ears, hoping to hear one voice in particular. Of course, you didn’t know what his voice sounded like, but you were listening anyway. If you were right, and he was a boy from Welton, maybe you might be able to catch a word or two.

That’s when Neil spotted the person walking loops around the front of campus. Maybe, for the first time, you could be his inspiration.

He looked over his shoulder, quickly trying to assess whether he could slip away unnoticed or not. No one seemed to be looking at him. He left his group behind and jogged up next to you.

You saw him coming. Even from a distance, you knew it was him. Your heart began to pound in your ears, loud and fast and just a little bit lovesick. You were right.

“Hey!” He exclaimed. You took a small step back. Your nerves were on their highest setting and your mind was reeling. What did he think of you, you wondered. More importantly, who was he?

As he approached, you put on your best nervous smile. “Hi.”

“My name’s Neil.” He said, reaching out a hand for you to shake. You complied quickly, saying your own name in turn. His palms were slightly damp, but you couldn’t blame him. Yours were probably worse.

The moment your hand held his, fitting perfectly under his fingers, he knew you were made for him. “I saw you in town the other day. Do you like books?” 

Your voice was hesitant, unsure, and Neil wished he could reach out and smooth the wrinkles in the sound like an old coat. “Yeah.”

“What were you reading?” Neil asked. He tried to stamp down his own nerves, but something about you made his breaths flutter in and out like butterfly wings. It was a feeling he was completely and entirely new to.

You shifted the bag on your shoulder to your hands, reaching in to pull out the book. “Oh, Poems by Emily Dickinson. It’s not the traditional type of book, but I love poetry.” Your cheeks began to warm. You knew nothing about this boy. What if he thought poetry was stupid, just a lesson in his English class and nothing else? How could anyone know how much those words meant to you?

Neil beamed, big and wide and lovesick. You truly were perfect for him, he thought. Poetry. You certainly were poetic, with those gorgeous eyes and an equally beautiful mind. “I love poetry too.” He breathed.

Your tense smile turned genuine. “You do? That’s awesome.” A quiet flutter started to pick up in your heart.

“Yeah. You know what?” He grinned, “my friends and I have a sort of poetry club. The dead poets society- we do readings, original works, whatever the members are feeling at the moment.” He sucked in a silent breath, pausing just enough to let his reeling mind decide on what he wanted to say. “It’s at night in the old Indian cave.” You nodded along to his words, growing increasingly intrigued the further he carried on. This dead poets society began to excite you. It was all you ever wanted in life: a community of like-minded people sharing the verses that made your heart tick. “If you want, I mean, you should go to our next meeting. It’s tonight.” Neil offered. He could tell his words were cycling through your mind, finally catching up to his proposal.

You wanted to join the dead poets society so badly it made your heart ache. A little inkling, though, in the back of your head, sparked a pit in your stomach. “Would your friends be okay with me being there? I… I don’t exactly know them.”

Neil was head over heels. You were so wonderfully lively, in the way that a breeze touching his eyelashes with the tips of its fingers would be. You were exactly how he expected, and exactly who he needed.

He waved away your concern with the flip of a hand and a laugh. “Don’t worry about it. The others bring guests too, and gosh, I’m sure they’re going to love you! Especially Todd. I’m sure you two would get along real well.” 

“Then I’ll definitely be there.” You replied. The sparkle in your eye shot Neil at full force. You were excited, smiling, happy. He made you happy. He mentally patted himself on the back.

“Great!” Leaves rustled from behind Neil, and you could see a group of boys approaching in the near distance. “Shoot. I gotta go, but make sure to show up. I’ll be waiting for you.” He whispered, leaning in closer to you before turning around to walk towards the group. You felt cold air where he had once been, and you wished for a moment that he would come back. His friends, however, were hooting and hollering, and you thought you could hear a kissy noise or two. You shook your head, a shaky warmth creeping its way up your neck, before turning to walk away.

You were going to go to a secret meeting in a secret cave at a hauntingly secret hour, and you had never been quite so excited in your entire life.

The fourth time you saw each other was the dead poets society meeting. You were brimming with nerves beforehand, shaking fingers gathering your materials as you tried to prepare for waltzing into a place with people entirely unknown to you. The bag you were holding contained a couple of your favorite poetry books, your own poems scratched in the empty spaces on certain pages that really inspired you. You weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to read a poem out loud, especially your own work, but earlier in the evening, you resolved to “go with the flow” and do what the others were doing. You hoped you wouldn’t have to regret that decision later.

After putting everything together and making sure to turn off your light and close your door, you slipped out of your house into the black night.

The scenery on your walk was entirely too beautiful. You never noticed just how much the bark on trees formed swirling patterns, or how the stars seemed to twinkle on their own. The ground under your feet was littered with fallen leaves in fiery shades and clumps of moist dirt. You began to smile just a little bit, thinking of a poem you had written when autumn had first started. That is surely what you would say if the dead poets wanted you to speak.

Nothing felt greater than breathing in the crisp, cold air and swinging your arms as you stepped along the path less traveled on. 

When you finally reached the cave, heart significantly lighter, the sound of laughter floated up to your ears. It was bountiful and boyish and beautiful. You peered around the edge of the cave entrance, and Neil’s eye immediately caught on you.

“Come in, come in! We’re just about to begin.” He called. You stepped fully into the light and glanced around at your company.

They were giggling and shoving, gaping at you and Neil with a sort of uncertain certainty. Some were standing, some sitting, a couple moving around, and all of them male. You took a seat next to Neil, between him and the boy you saw with him in town. He gave you a meaningful nod and looked to Neil, who was opening an old, thick book. He was frightened to so much as speak in front of you, as silly as it might have seemed.

“Attention, dead poets. Today is another wonderful night.” He announced, voice deep and commanding and humorously theatrical. “I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately… I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life! To put to rout all that was not life… And not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived…” His voice trailed off, and someone from the back of the cave echoed his last word. He closed the book with a snap, and the boys began to murmur excitedly.

Neil took a seat and turned to you, a glimmer of something sweet in his eye. When he looked at you, all he saw was magnificence. “Who wants to start?”

A boy jumped up. In his fist was a crumpled piece of paper, which he made a show of unfolding. “For those of you who don’t know,” He said, with a pointed glance at you, “my name is Nuwanda, and today, I actually made a poem.”

A couple boys yelled in support, and Neil gave you a nudge. “Charlie Dalton.” He whispered, making sure to not alert the others. You thanked him with a shy nod. Then, as “Nuwanda” was starting to begin his woefully homemade poem, Neil put his arm around your shoulders. 

His touch sent jitters through your entire body, lighting you up like a firework. It just felt so right, so natural, so breathtaking. It felt exactly like shaking his hand and feeling his eyes and seeing his breath hang in the air- like it was destined, written in the stars, utterly perfect. You leaned into his touch, feeling his warm breath fanning over the back of your neck and shoulder. “To live, to learn, to die,

my boys, 

to see, to love, to burn. 

To touch, to know, to harm, 

my dear,

to eat, to reap, to sow.” 

Charlie recited. For someone who seemingly took poetry lightly, he wasn’t particularly bad. He put more passion into his words than most other boys you knew. In fact, you’re sure he would be a great writer if he put more than an ounce of effort into it.

He took a bow as the room erupted into applause, Neil’s arm still wrapped around you. He could feel it too, the electricity. He wanted nothing more than to bottle that feeling and keep it forever.

Charlie sat, staring at you and Neil with a smirk on the corners of his lips. “Hey, why don’t we let our guest take a crack at it?”

The cave filled with a rumble of excitement from all of the poets. Neil’s brows were furrowed, but he gave an urge of support anyway. “If you want to, of course.”

You wanted to. Energy thrummed throughout your company, filling you with a sense of confidence you rarely had anywhere else. For once, you truly wanted to speak up. The air was crackling with a sense of anxious anticipation, and you could smell the love each boy held for each other. They knew, somehow, that the moment meant a lot to Neil, and they were willing to put aside any inhibitions to help him enjoy the night.

“I’ll go.” You uttered. Neil’s face lit up as his previous worries slunk away into the night.

You pulled out a book from your usual bag and opened it to the page you knew so well you could recite the poem it held without looking. And, of course, your own poem was scribbled in the margins. 

Everyone was attempting to peer over your shoulder, to take a glimpse of what made you a poet. Having attention on you was an odd feeling, like ants crawling along the back of your spine. You took a deep breath. “When you die,

the beetles will still sing.

The trout will still jump,

and the earth will still rumble.

When you die, the moon will still turn

and the stars will still burn.

When you die,

The lakes will still ripple

and the trees will still creak

and I will lower you into the ground

and I will cry so hard the world stops moving.”

As the last words left your lips, a profound silence enveloped the group. Then, all at once, it exploded.

“We’ve got a real poet in here!” Came Charlie’s teasing (yet not entirely unkind) voice. “Truly Keating material. What sparked your creative melancholy?”

You felt yourself glowing as you sat. If you were being honest, you never could have imagined that anyone would genuinely enjoy your work. That notion was entirely unfounded and untrue, considering they were a group of poets, but it persisted nonetheless. “I don’t know, really. Just the notion of losing a loved one, I suppose.”

When Neil saw you, in that moment, when he heard your voice, he couldn’t breathe. He knew so little about you, yet you pumped his pulse up to be as fast as a racehorse. He wanted, no, he needed to learn everything that made you you. He needed to know what you looked like when waking up in the morning, or how your fingers felt threading through his hair, or your deepest, most desperate passions. He needed to be so close to you he could feel your heartbeat through the fabric of your shirt. He was intrigued. 

When he first discovered acting, he felt the same exact way- a burning desire to learn, to know, to discover. If you let him, he would recite his lines all the way into your heart.

The meeting continued as the sky grew ever darker, complete with poems and rhymes and words spoken in deliberately lyrical tones. You fell into every verse and every story as easily as you would if they were written in a book. You began to learn every name in the room, and they quickly caught on to yours. It was a community, a group of people that began to feel like home. 

Of course, by the time they decided to end things, the stars were full and bright. The sun would surely peek its head out of the fog in a couple hours. You were smiling harder and more genuinely than you ever had before, with Neil by your side, and Todd on your other. As they all stood up to leave with boisterous whispers, Neil turned to you.

“Will you come tomorrow? And the next, and every day after that?” His question was so excited, so innocent, like he didn’t know that you would kill for the chance to be near him and everything he held dear.

You smiled. “Of course. I’ll be a dead poet for life.”

Your eighth encounter with Neil was not a lucky twist of fate. He got permission to leave school for some something or other that you never bothered to find out. Now, it was just you two and the big town square looming in front of you.

In truth, it wasn’t that big, but when you’re standing at the beginning of a new day with the boy that holds your heart, everything feels intense.

He took hold of the sleeve of your sweater, as he so often did, and you descended upon the shops.

“Come on, you’ve absolutely got to try the milkshakes at Tom’s Ice Cream Parlor! They’re just the best. Hurry, hurry!” He tugged you along, a bright smile on his face. God, how you loved him.

You had grown closer in the past five dead poets society meetings. Often, he would stay with you in the cave long after the meetings had ended. You would talk about whatever crossed your mind in the moment, and he would spin stories out of thin air. He didn’t ever seem to talk about real life things, though. His work at school, sure, but anything outside of that was uncharted territory. When you asked him about his family, he just clammed up.

You laughed as he weaved through the clumps of people with you in tow. “Slow down, Neil! You’re gonna get us killed.”

The sound of your voice, especially your laugh, was something Neil had come to relish. He would keep you talking all day if it meant he could hear that giddy ring in his ears every time he craved your presence. “You’ve just got to go faster. The line is horrific at this time of day.” 

“This place had better be good.”

“It is, believe me. It’ll be the best you’ve ever had.”

When you arrived, bodies hot and just a little uncomfortably sweaty, the sight of the ice cream parlor was a welcome one. He led you through the doors and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. You wished you could do it for him. The line was, unsurprisingly, quite long. You made idle chat, but his words fell on deaf ears as you stared at him.

“…he was real impressed when Charlie played his sax. Mr. Nolan, though, he definitely wasn’t-“ And, before you could think about it, before the screaming in your head could tell you no, you reached up and smoothed the cowlick that always seemed to mess up his part. When you pulled your hand away, he was beaming.

“Thanks.” He said, simply. You smiled back at him.

“No problem. So, what happened to Charlie afterwards?” You questioned. Neil gave you a look, one you had come to realize meant “I’ll tell you later”.

As you stood three people away from the front counter, Neil fumbled around in his pockets. “Shoot, I could’ve sworn I brought more money than this…” He muttered. He pulled out a dime and three pennies, all slightly covered in the fuzz from his jacket pocket. “I’m sorry. I don’t know, I must’ve spaced out- I’m usually so good about things like this.”

You took his arm with one hand and slipped the other in your pocket, rooting around for any spare change you had. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I have more than enough.”

You did not, in fact, have more than enough. You had a single quarter and a spare button. Pooled together, you could get exactly one milkshake and have his three pennies left over. Neil looked at you regretfully.

“You take it. I’ll get one another time.” He said, putting on a smile. “I’ve had too many sweet things today anyways.”

You would not accept this as an answer. Not here, not now. He deserved all the good things life had to offer, and you would be damned if he didn’t get them- starting with this milkshake. “It’s alright, you have it.”

Neil looked at you with furrowed eyebrows. “You should have it, really.” He would be damned if you didn’t get what he dragged you out here to experience. If he could see your face, smiling and sticky-lipped, after taking a sip from something he contributed to, he would be the happiest man on earth. 

The back-and-forth was getting nowhere and you both knew it. “Why don’t we just share it then? Ask for two straws?” You sighed. “It’s the best solution.”

He paused. It wasn’t ideal, and it wasn’t the life he wanted to give you (if this was any indicator), but it would work. Everything would work as long as you were there. “Okay. Yeah, let’s do that.”

There was another quick conversation about which flavor to choose, but you settled on one that you both liked equal amounts. You discovered that he had far different tastes than you milkshake-wise. If you were any less filtered, you would’ve told him his opinions were downright wrong.

You sat with him, smiling so hard you thought your face would break as he finally told you what happened to Charlie. Apparently, Nolan had reprimanded him as he so often had to do, but Charlie couldn’t stop smiling during the lecture. Eventually, Nolan just stopped mid-sentence and ushered the boy out the door. Apparently nothing and no one could ever crush Charlie’s spirit, not even the hardships of wooden rulers.

You leaned in to take a sip absentmindedly. As you reached your straw, you felt the tip of Neil’s nose brush against yours, and you realized you were so close to him you were almost kissing. You pulled back quickly, a hotness enveloping your cheeks.

“Sorry.” You uttered, trying not to look him in the eye. You were so mortified you almost killed yourself on the spot.

Neil, however, was overjoyed. He felt your breath on his chin and it was all he could think about. You, close to him, like you would’ve touched him if you hadn’t pulled away. He relished the feeling.

He shrugged, trying in vain to make it seem like he was just simply all right with it. “It wasn’t a problem,” He said, before noticing that the milkshake was running dangerously low. “Hey, why don’t you take the last sip?”

You cocked your head slightly. “Why?”

“Because I never want to be the one to end it.” He grinned. You shook your head, the corners of your lips rising up as he let out a little laugh. You adored his laugh.

“If you say so.”

That conversation stuck with you a long time after it happened.

It took four more dead poets meetings for Neil to ask you to go somewhere with him again. By the twelfth experience, though, you knew him like the back of your hand.

He loved acting. Loved it. He loved it so desperately that he was willing to face the wrath of his father to pursue the play he was casted in. Oh, and you learned about his father through whispers, mostly from Charlie. Neil, he told you, would never say a word about him. Tyrannical, inhospitable, red-hot like fire and ice-cold like ice. You knew of his mother, too, and her quiet indifference. Neil held a special place in his heart for Todd, the new boy at Welton. He loved puppies and poetry and soft scarves. Not the scratchy ones, as those irritated his neck. He wanted to be an actor in the future, but his father wanted him to be a doctor. He loved so many things, and yet could not have them; however, he definitely hated when people felt sorry for him.

So, you weren’t sorry. You felt his desires like a burning in your gut, stripped away piece by piece, but you were not sorry. You loved him.

You needed him to be fulfilled in every way possible, and you were not sorry. He was going through so many conflicting things, and you were not sorry. You were hopeful.

Life would turn around, you told him. He would see. In ten years, he would be on Broadway, waving at you and Todd and Charlie from the stage. He would be great, and you knew it.

“I’ve never skated like this before. Are you sure it’s safe?” You asked, standing at the edge of Welton’s lake. It was late in fall, with powdery snow dusting the edges of the ground, but the lake may have been in the process of freezing still. Neil took your gloved hands.

“Trust me, it’s good.”

He often asked you to trust him, and you always did. There was just something in his deep, dark eyes that whispered exactly how strong he was.

You took a tentative step onto the ice, nose already feeling the cold burn of pre-winter air. The ground under your feet was slick, but it held. Neil walked backwards, gently guiding you, and you followed.

You found a sort of rhythm in the movements, pushing off with your feet and letting them slide forward on the ice. Neil’s face was tinged with red as you skated on flat shoes, never letting go of your hands. You laughed, truly and honestly. The world spun around you in a blur, white and brown and beautiful. The air snuck through the gaps on your clothes, but you did not care. In that second, it was just you and Neil and the most beautiful day you had ever known.

His eyes softened when he looked at you. Even through the lack of words, he knew exactly what you were thinking. That crinkle by your eyes, the curve of your lips, your laugh. You were content, happy even, because he brought you here. When you reached the middle of the lake, leaning against him, trusting him, he felt a fluttering in his stomach. 

Throughout his days with you, he had come to discover the person behind the book, behind the shy smile. He could firmly say that he knew you, and he loved you even more for it.

He knew your favorite book, which jokes made you laugh so hard tears formed in your eyes, your favorite ice cream flavor. It wasn’t his, but it was completely and entirely you. There was nothing he adored more in the world than you.

You stared at him with a smile gracing your lips as you came to a stop. He reached his hand up to your face and brushed a small snowflake away from the corner of your mouth gently. His hands were soft.

He leaned in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his face. It was now or never, he thought. Carpe diem.

Neil pressed his lips to yours, and all of your feelings exploded from your connected flesh like dynamite.

He was warm, so warm. You kissed him fervently with your arms wrapped around his shoulders like you were dancing. He had finally done it, put to action the kind thoughts he had expressed, and you were glowing. There were stars in your tightly shut eyes, and you reveled in how they spun.

Neil’s mind was racing as you didn’t pull away. He didn’t know what he expected, but you pulling him closer was not his first thought. He most definitely didn’t mind.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both panting feverishly and looking starved for more. Your combined breaths hung in front of your faces.

“We should do that again.” He whispered. You huffed a laugh, feeling every bit as blushy as he looked.

“Only if you’re okay with never stopping.”

It was a week and a half before Neil’s big play, and the twenty-fourth (maybe twenty-fifth, you had lost count) time you saw him. It was also your tenth official date.

“Date” may have been a loose term, as it was more practicing lines than talking, but the atmosphere was quiet and calm at the café you sat in. There were grainy pictures of favorite customers on the wall and the chairs were just the right amount of wobbly. It felt like a place where you could relax without abandon. Neil’s hand was on top of yours and he was staring deep into your eyes as he spoke line after line, trying to steel his nerves and push past the stress of his approaching deadline.

“If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumber’d here while these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream, gentles, do not reprehend: if you pardon, we will mend: and, as I am an honest Puck, if we have unearned luck…” He hesitated for a moment, eyes unfocused. You squeezed his hand in support and he gave you a small smile. Clearing his throat, he continued. “…now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue, we will make amends ere long; else the Puck a liar call; so, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.” 

You gave a quiet cheer and clasped your hands together. “I think that was your best runthrough yet! I’m so proud of you.”

His eyes lit up as he gazed at you bashfully. “You think?”

“Absolutely. You’re good, you’re really good. You could probably perform tomorrow if you wanted to.” He smiled and ran his fingers over his fleece sleeves as you spoke. If you were in the audience, he was sure he would be able to do anything. “In fact, you could perform any time you wanted to. You’re just that amazing.”

You were so impressed by the sheer amount of talent and emotion he had that you just couldn’t help but smother him in compliments. Every single one was true.

Neil tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, blushing like a madman. Every time you said something kind about him, his heart leapt for joy. “What about you? What have you been working on?” He posed. He had heard your poetry before, of course, but you always seemed to be creating something new.

You pulled out a book from the bag sitting next to you and flipped around. There was one specific poem you wanted him to hear. One you had written about him.

When you found it, you turned the book sideways so you both could see and pointed at it. “This one.” Neil tilted his head, opening his mouth to read it aloud. “I think, 

if I was blind,

I would still know your face.

The curve of your nose would call to me

and your eyelids would flutter under my touch.

There is no one else, no one at all

who could make the pads of my fingers

see the entire world.”

He gazed up at you with a starstruck expression. “Is this about anyone in particular?” Neil leaned forward and dipped his head down to rest on his propped-up hand. He had a grin on his face. He absolutely knew who it was about.

“I wrote that one for Meeks. He’s just so cute, don’t you think?” You teased. Neil’s mouth dropped open as his expression turned to comical shock. 

“I’m wounded, my love! How dare you.” He shouted, throwing his arms up. You started laughing as he continued his theatrical expressions, much to the dismay of the café workers.

“Be careful, we might get thrown out!”

“I’ll throw you out myself if you don’t stop laughing at my demise.” He furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose as you giggled from your seat. “I’m so lucky to have you.” He murmured, suddenly as soft as a spring rain. You ran your fingers over his hand underneath the table, finding every groove like it was your own.

“And I’m lucky to have you. I love you, you know.” 

Neil smiled gently. “I love you too. So much.”

You sat in that café for a few hours more, until the workers had to politely remind you of their closing hours. You laughed and talked and felt the sheer joy of being with the boy you had begun to consider your soulmate. He was a star, shining his light and illuminating you with his rays. Too often, however, the brightest lights fade within the snap of a finger.

“I hope that when I die,” Neil wrote, right before your thirty-first meeting,

“God will send me back to Earth.

He will say,

‘Live again. Run again,

hope again,

plunge your body into ice-cold water again. 

Hate again, 

and cry again,

run your fingers through the grass again.

Kiss them again, 

press your palms to their faces again,

and lose them again.

Let yourself feel again,

and never forget

that life is what matters, 

not death.’

And I will say,

‘I promise

to do everything I have ever told myself I could not do

again and again and again.’”

He closed his journal with a thump and tucked it into his drawer calmly. That was something he would rather not share with anyone, not even you. 

The day was cold and drizzly, but he stood up with a kind of manic smile. He walked out of the doors of Welton and into your awaiting arms.

You both sat down on a park bench under the cover of a tree. Your seats were slightly wet and very cold, but it didn’t matter all that much. You were just glad to be there with him, with Neil. He was the love of your life, and any time with him was well-spent.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly. He was the same as he always was, you thought. But his eyes were welling up with tears and you just felt the need to ask, like some unearthly force was telling you that you needed to.

He leaned back, putting his arm around the back of the bench with a sigh. “I’m trapped.” He was smiling, but there was such an utter lack of humor behind it that it made you shiver. You shifted closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder as a silent sign of comfort. By this point, knew everything there was to know about Neil Perry- even the parts he tried to keep hidden.

“How so?”

“I don’t even know, I just… I want to be an actor. That is what I want to do for the rest of my life. But I can’t, and I’m trapped, and no one can help me, no matter how much they try.” His voice was sullen, but he was still smiling. Curse him for trying to make you feel better even then.

You placed a kiss on the back of his hand and threaded your fingers through his. Your heart ached for him. You knew there was nothing you could do about it, though, and that’s what made it even harder. Holding his hand, telling him it’ll all work out, everything ultimately did nothing for his situation, and you cursed the being that forced him into this position. If you could scream into the night, into the big, black sky to execrate the universe, you would. You did, in the future. You regretted not doing it sooner.

“I’m sorry.” You started, squeezing his hand. “ Just keep going, alright? I promise you, in the future, none of this will matter at all. You just have to stick with it. The world will find a way of figuring it out.”

His face formed a more genuine smile as he laid his head on top of yours. “Yeah. I guess it will.”

The last time Neil Perry saw you was the night he had been anticipating, dreaming about, and dreading: the night of his play. He was prepared. He knew every line and cue by heart, and yet he was still nervous. He was so nervous he could hardly think. 

He stood behind the curtains listening to the chatter of the audience. The rest of the cast members and some of the technicians were scrambling to put everything in place, but he just stared at the dark walls of fabric separating him from his new life. That was it. He was going to put on the best performance of his goddamn life.

The lights dimmed, and he stepped away to take his place.

When it was finally time for him to make his entrance, Neil did it with flourish. “How now, spirit! whither wander you?” He spoke. Cheers came from the audience, whoops and hollers from the dead poets. He could hardly keep himself from smiling.

Then, he saw you. You were grinning wide and large from your seat, giving him that quiet encouragement he had always loved. You whispered his name, and Neil could hear it in his heart.

He was having fun. So much fun. With every line he spoke, with every movement he made, Neil was sinking deeper and deeper into the play and his love for acting. He didn’t remember the last time he had ever felt that alive. 

But with every sinking, there comes a point where one drowns.

His father was there. When had he come? Neil hadn’t seen him before. God. He was burning a hole in the back of his head with his piercing gaze, and it took everything in Neil not to turn and run. That was it, he thought. He was done. But gods be good, he was going to finish his play. He would not let his father ruin this for him.

By the time he was speaking his last lines, the ones he had practiced with you, he barely remembered his father was part of the audience. The curtains closed, and the audience exploded into cheers. He could hear your voice, he swore he could- he was the happiest man on Earth. He had put on the performance of his lifetime, and he couldn’t be more proud. Until, of course, he was dragged out the door by his father.

He was back home before he had even registered his father’s anger. All he could feel was emptiness as the gnawing hole in his stomach expanded to encompass his entire being.

“We're trying very hard to understand why it is that you insist on defying us. Whatever the reason, we're not gonna let you ruin your life. Tomorrow I'm withdrawing you from Welton and enrolling you in Braden Military School. You're going to Harvard and you're gonna be a doctor.” His father stated, eyes sharp. Neil let out a noise of protest.

“But that's ten more years. Father, that's a lifetime! I won’t be able to see any of them again, not one person I knew before. You can’t do this to me, you just can’t.” Tears formed in Neil’s eyes, and as he looked at his mother, she was feeling the same way. And yet she said nothing. He could feel himself becoming increasingly more desperate. 

His father scoffed. “Oh, stop it. Don't be so dramatic. You make it sound like a prison term. You don't understand, Neil. You have opportunities that I never even dreamt of and I am not going to let you waste them.”

Neil rose to his feet, suddenly angry. He needed to fight for this, for himself. He couldn’t just let one man take away everything he had ever loved. If he couldn’t see you, his friends, if he couldn’t act, there was no purpose in his life. “I've got to tell you what I feel.”

Neil’s mother reached for him. “We’ve been so worried about-“ 

“What? What? Tell me what you feel. What is it? Is it more of this, this acting business? Because you can forget that. What?” And just like that, it was gone. Neil sat back down, staring blankly at his lap. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do anything because he was just a stupid boy who wouldn’t listen. His father scoffed once again before leaving the room.

His mother, ever the soft one, paused.

“I was good. I was really good.” He whispered. She sighed, urging him to his feet. 

“Go on, get some sleep.”

Neil nodded, still in a trance, before trudging to his room. That was it. He was done. He would never see you again, no matter what, and it hurt him so badly he didn’t know what else to do. He ran his fingers over his things lightly before removing his shirt. That was it. He grasped his crown of twigs and placed it on his head, staring out through his open window. The cool air kissed his body sweetly, like your lips on a rainy day. He took a deep breath.

It was time for his last act, his curtain call, his final carpe diem. There was no warning, and yet there did not need to be one. That night, that cold, bitter night, he knew what he needed to do. 

The last time you saw Neil Perry, he didn’t see you. He couldn’t see you. It was December 18th, and you had been asked to read a poem at his funeral. 

God, the word “funeral” hit you like a train. Neil was dead. His sweet demeanor, his gentle words, his soft hair, they were all going to be covered in dirt within the next few hours. You couldn’t stand it. The world needed so much more of him, but terribly, horribly, the world did not deserve it. No one deserved him.

It was odd, you thought, how the sound of one gunshot could replay over and over again in your mind without you ever having heard it at all. The boom, the thud, the scream. It was all so clear in your mind.

As the priest spoke, you felt an emptiness pool in your guts. He was really gone. Your Neil, your poor Neil. You sat between Charlie and Todd, all three of your faces streaked with tears. You could feel more welling up in your eyes, and you let them free without a care. Neil was dead, and nothing else in the world mattered.

In a way, you couldn’t believe it. He was just here, warm and happy and yours. When you got that phone call, you almost joined him. Nothing was worth it anymore, nothing at all. The eulogies, the sobs, they faded into the background as you stared down at the ground.

Before you knew what was happening, you were standing at a podium with a piece of paper clutched between your shaking fingers. Neil’s mom looked up at you in silent support.

You took a breath, so much like the breaths you always took before reading a poem and yet so different. Neil could not hear this one.

“When you died,

the beetles still sang.

The trout still jumped,

and the earth still rumbled.

When you died, the moon still turned

and the stars still burned.

When you died,” Your voice cracked. Looking out into the audience, at people you didn’t know and people you knew so well you could identify them by a strand of their hair, it was too much. Hot tears slipped their way down your face as the pit in your stomach grew ever-wider. 

“The lakes still rippled 

and the trees still creaked

and I lowered you into the ground

and I cried so hard the world stopped moving.” 

There was a murmur throughout the audience, choked sobs and utters of agreement. “For Neil, who lived as he died and died as he lived.” You rasped.

You were quickly ushered away from the podium and back into your seat.

Neil was one in a million. There was no one else in the history of ever that could make you feel so amazing. Like you were a real person, like you mattered. He made everyone feel that way, but something in him burned for you in a way that you believed was unique. And, of course, you burned for him the same. 

The rest of the service went by in a blur. Everyone around you began to get up, and you knew it was time. As you sat there, still as a rock, when everyone went to say their final farewells, you were extinguished. 

You felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. When you looked up from your tear-soaked lap, Todd was there, and he clasped your hand. “Let’s go.” He whispered. “Let’s say goodbye.”

You pulled a page from the book by your feet and shoved it into your pocket. It was for him, it always was and it always had been.

“In some other universe, I found you again.

Maybe in this one we held hands, gently and honestly,

or leaned against each other’s shoulders on the train,

or sobbed against each other’s shirts when we crashed and burned,

because anything with you

means flying too close to the sun.” It read. 

As you stood in front of his casket, you could hardly bear to focus on his pale face.

He was cold, so cold. The embalmer had done well with his head, but there was so much that just looked off. He didn’t look like your Neil. He looked empty. You gripped his hand and brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes. It was winter, and he was colder and paler than the snow.

You held him far longer than what was deemed socially acceptable before tucking the page into his lapel and swiftly walking away.

You weren’t there for his burial, and you knew you couldn’t be. It was just too much. If you had seen his casket close, if you had watched them shovel dirt on top of the wooden box, you would’ve dropped to your knees and screamed. Much like you’re doing now.

You sat on that same old park bench, knees clutched up to your soaked chest, sobbing harder than you ever had before. Your Neil was gone and you could never see him again, not ever.

When you saw Neil Perry for the last time, and god, did you see him, you knew nothing would ever be the same again.

[tan1shere]

Hi I was wondering if you could please write a billie fic where she comforts the reader? it could literally be anything at all i just like the hurt/comfort or angsty that ends off fluffy kinda stuff if that makes sense!! 💙

You're My Comfort

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: coming rightttt up !! Enjoy, babe <3 (this is a lil short I'm sawry ☹) -alsooo dunno If you just put that heart or want to be on my emoji anons, just lmk if so !

Summary: you had been struggling lately, and like always you bottled it up, til you were at your breaking point. But rest assured billie was there to pick you back up again.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, anxiety attack and slight depression, bit sad but fluffynezzz near da end 😇

Masterlist

You loved weather like this, it made you feel comfortable and secure in your own weird little way. You've always loved the rain. The foggy atmosphere. As crazy as it sounds it brought you joy. So when Billie found you out, laying in your guys backyard. Letting the rain drench your body. She knew you were at your happiest. Or were you?

No. The answer was no. You had been a tad more distant with her recently and it did worry her, you were always so bubbly but she was very aware of the depressive states you'd occasionally get into. It worried her more so, the fact she never knew when. You'd keep it to yourself because you never wanted to feel like a nuisance. Like you were troubling her. But little did you know she'd help massively. She came out, seeing your body laying down, back against the grass. It was pouring down, you were truly soaked and maybe even a little cold. You felt cold regardless. Icy.

She got on the ground with you. "Talk to me." She said calmly. Looking to her side at your face. You had silent tears which she thankfully couldn't see. You didn't respond at first. "Please." She pleaded, grabbing your hand and placing it in hers. You could be in mud and she'd still join you. You didn't know why you weren't worth the trouble. Your head turns to face her, blank. No emotion. "Isnt the rain pretty." You averted your attention back on the dull sky. Making her sigh. "Baby, Somethings really bothering you. Are you getting into a depressive state again?" Again, no answer. But if she kept going you might just break.

"Are you feeling gross-?" - "Yes billie. I'm feeling disgusting. I feel stupid and i don't even know why, maybe it was that dumb interaction I had with that lady the other day. Maybe I'm freaking out like crazy because I can't seem to get this little tiny demon. Out. Of. My. Head."

She stared at you in shock as you were shaking, you hadn't even noticed. But now tears were streaming out. Billie immediately wraps you in her embrace, saying nothing. Letting you cry in the safety net of her arms. Your eyes soon shut letting out all that pent up emotion, that you tried so desperately to get rid of. Turns out you needed what Bill was doing. You needed that kind of warmth. Being in your true happy place. Her hand strokes your hair sweetly, her chin resting atop your head. Wishing she could take all your pain away.

You sob into her chest, shaking uncontrollably. But not because you were cold. Your heart rate picked up, feeling every little thing come crashing down. She rocks you in her arms, giving quiet shh's repeating "You're ok. Its fine." Until your breathing eventually calms down, getting over that pesky anxiety attack. "There you go." She speaks, moving your wet hair out of your face.

"I'm worthless Bil." Her brows furrow. "Where on earth is that coming from love?" You shrug. "My brain, it keeps repeating it. Over and over." She looks in your eyes. "Well say that it's not true and tell it to go find some other mind to bug. You're not worthless baby, you're amazing. And strong might I add. Dealing with this almost every day. I'm proud of you." Your eyes gleam as she says those 4 words, having a small smile on your face after what felt like weeks. It warms her heart tremendously. Missing that smile heaps. Her arms wrap you in such a warm hug briefly.

"I get you angel girl. Always have, yeah?" She explains, pulling back to cup your face. "But you need to let me in. Please." You want to now. Even if you and billie haven't been dating for long, you knew you were in love with her. And that kept growing and growing each day. "Let me help you I'm here, and I always will be." You nod at her, a thumb swiping under your eye shortly after. The rain continues to cascade over you both. "Billie?" She hums in response. Admiring your features. "I think i love you."

A long pause emerges making you panic. "Well I mean- not think that sounds a bit mean and i-" Her lips meet yours in a soft kiss. Shutting up that silly rambling. "You're adorable." She laughs a little. "I love you." Your eyes light up as she says that. "You're truly my comfort Billie, thank you for that." She smiles big time, bringing you back into her arms. "Head up baby girl, I ain't leaving."

"Promise?"

Her smile grows.

"Going to put a ring on that finger. I promise."

:,)

[squoxle]

🗼Peril in Paris ~ Minho ff 18+

🗼pairing: Lee Minho (Lee Know) x Female Reader (close proximity) | 🗼wc: 4.2k | 🗼summary: On a study abroad trip to France, you're forced to share a room with the handsome and cold-hearted Minho. |🗼cw: angst, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, fingering f., slightly rough sex, squirting (sry if u don't like that), choking, profanity, swearing

⋆｡°✩Smut Scenes are Highlighted w/ Fire Heart Emoji❤️‍🔥

Disclaimer: this ff came from my drafts in April and was made originally for Sunghoon, so if u see his name anywhere…that’s why (April 25, 2023)

You and your two best friends were so excited to study abroad in France. You had been practicing your ‘française’ and now you could have a few intermediate-ish conversations. Well, actually it’s more like basic-advanced conversations. One of your friends, Charlotte, was super advanced in comparison to you—like halfway fluent to be specific. You have a habit of looking to her for extra help. But Noemi, your other friend, is more on your level. So, you tend to joke around a lot. For the next 16 weeks, you and the rest of your class will be touring all over the beautiful city of Paris.

You continued prancing around your room, packing your suitcase with everything you’d need for your semester away. This was your first time traveling to a country overseas and you weren’t entirely sure of what to expect. You tried your best to "prepare" by binging YouTube vlogs from Paris. Luckily for you, your friends were going to be right there with you. When you were together, nothing could go wrong. Or so you thought…

Charlotte’s Parents drove you and Noemi to the airport where you met up with the rest of your class. When you walked into the massive airport you followed the signs pointing to your group. “Okay everyone. I need to see two lines. One for the ladies and one for the gentlemen.” The head professor—Mr. Zhao—said as he waved his hands around to get everyone’s attention.

The students got into the appropriate lines with their suitcases and boarded the plane. “Omg! I still can’t believe we’re going to Paris~” Noemi giggled. “Yeah, this is an amazing opportunity to immerse ourselves in this beautiful language and culture.” Charlotte chimed. “Y/N! Come on! Let’s GOOO~”Noemi said. You were still locking eyes with Lee Minho. He had been staring at you almost the whole time you guys were in line. But it wasn’t the type of staring that would cause your heart to flutter, it was the cold glare that pierced your soul.

You proceeded to board the plane with your friends. Fortunately, you all had seats next to each other…it always felt like fate kept you guys together. “I saw him staring at you,” Noemi whispered as she nodded her head in Minho’s direction. He was sitting in the row next to us with some other boys.

“Ok, so what?” You snapped “He’s super attractive. And, he might be into you, just saying. If I were you I’d totally be into him” She giggled. Charlotte had already fallen asleep so she was missing all the drama. “Knock it off, Noemi. I’m not interested and I don’t think he is either.” You replied, nudging her shoulder. “So you’re telling me you don’t think he’s hot?” Noemi smirked. “I mean…he’s good-looking, but I’m not just gonna hop on him.” You said as the two of you glanced at the boy. “He really was beautiful,” you thought to yourself.

After the plane landed you and the rest of the group boarded a large tour bus that took you to the hotel you’d be staying at for the next 16 weeks. The female instructor, Ms. Rei, gathered all of the female students and put them into the 5 rooms in groups of three. Mr. Allen did the same with the male students.

However, for some reason, there was one room left and the only people who hadn’t been grouped up were you and Minho.

“Sorry. We miscalculated the room arrangements and you two will be sharing a room with me.” Mr. Zhao said with a shrug. To be honest, he’s one of the cooler teachers so this wasn’t a problem. The problem was that you were separated from your best friends.

You definitely DID NOT see this coming. "What are the odds," you sighed to yourself.

“Umm…well I was supposed to be all alone in this room. But since I’ll be sharing with you two…I’ll take the sofa and you two can share the bed.” Mr. Zhao said as we reached our room. “And don’t worry. It’s a king-sized bed. So, the two of you can sleep at some distance.” He awkwardly chuckled.

Minho remained dead silent the whole time. He then headed to your shared room with his phone in his hand. He was probably doing the same thing you would do…text your friends. You remember him sitting next to two other boys—also attractive, but that’s not the point.

“Which side do you want?” Minho said breaking the silence. “Oh…umm…I’ll take the side by the window if that’s okay with you,” I replied. “I obviously don’t care. That’s why I asked.” He shot back coldly. I really don’t understand why he’s being so cold. Neither of you wanted to be here, but at least you were trying to make the best of it.

Since you arrived at night, you only had enough time to shower and unpack a few things before bed. Mr. Zhao ordered some dinner from the hotel’s restaurant, but Minho decided to just shower and go to sleep.

While eating dinner, Mr. Zhao told you about a few of the things you were going to do the next day. By the time you finished, you were ready to go to bed. Without thinking, you walked straight into your room, locking eyes with Minho.

He was wearing a plain white tee and his hair was slightly damp. He was also wearing a pair of grey sweats with a towel around his neck. “I’m finished in there just so you know.” He said before sitting on his side of the bed with his phone in his hand. I couldn’t help but stare. “Are you going or what?” He asked, snapping me out of my head. “Oh yeah. Sorry.” you stammered, picking out your nightgown before heading to the shower.

When the morning finally came, I got ready for the day. On the tour bus is where I found my friends, Charlotte and Noemi.

“Hey…so what happened? We were texting you all last night.” The two of them said upon greeting you. “My phone died and I couldn’t find a charger.” “Oh, okay.” They looked at you as if waiting for you to tell them some juicy gossip.

“I’m sharing a room with Mr. Zhao and Minho if that’s what u were wondering,” you said slinging the bag over your shoulder. You watched as their jaws dropped halfway to the ground after what you just said.

“NO WAY! You are so lucky~! Did you and Minho ‘do’ anything?” Noemi asked mischievously.

“No, we just shared a bed--"

"Shared a bed! How are you being so chill right now?" Noemi spat, cutting you off. "Girl, the thing I would've done with an opportunity like that."

"You wouldn't have made much progress. When I came out of the shower he was still glued to his phone,” you continued.

“Oh, bummer. I thought he would’ve been cooler.” Noemi said waving her hands in the air.

When you guys arrived at the Louvre Museum you broke off into the same groups assigned last night. Which meant you had to be with stone-cold Minho and Mr. Zhao. Though you'd much rather be goofing off with your friends.

“Well guys, what do you think, huh? There’s some pretty amazing artwork here.” “Hmm. Yeah, I guess.” Minho said with a shrug.

Before you could speak, Mr. Zhao’s phone rang. “Hold on you guys. I’ve gotta take this call really quick.” He said before stepping out of sight.

Again, here you were. Alone. With Minho. The taps of his phone echoed throughout the quiet hall. That and the random sounds of him sniffing through his nose.

For weeks this cold behavior persisted from Minho and you’d had enough of it. He was making this trip miserable. And now was your chance to maybe change things up a bit. Or at least make it less awkward.

“What’s wrong with you?” You asked, sternly.

“Hmm? Were you talking to me?”

“Obviously. Who else is around?”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed before turning back to his phone.

“You’re letting life pass you by while you tap away at that damn phone.” Saying this caused him to look up at you. “Since we got here you’ve been driving me insane. You make everything feel awkward, you hardly talk, and when you do, you have an attitude. What did I do to you?” Minho tucked his phone away in his pocket.

“There. Are you happy now?” His passiveness pissed you off even more. He could see the look of frustration on your face at his nonchalant behavior. You were fuming at his casualness.

“Sorry. I don’t know how else to tell you this. I’m just not a ‘people’ person.” He said looking down at the ground. “How about I make it up to you?”

“How do you plan on doing that?” You asked.

“Follow me.” He grabbed your hand as he led you out of the museum.

“But--" You stammered, trying to think of a valid excuse. After all, this is kinda your fault, right? If only you had just kept your damn mouth shut.

Like any sane person, you were weary about venturing off in a foreign country. Especially, alone...with a boy. "What about Mr. Zhao?” you spat, digging your feet into the ground in an attempt to stop him from leaving.

“Relax. I remember where the hotel is. Even if we get left behind, we won’t be lost.” He said with a smile.

This was the first time you saw Minho smile…ever. It was like diamonds. And I know how corny that sounds, but it really was just as rare and beautiful as diamonds.

He led you into a park that wasn't too far from the museum.

“What are we doing here?” You asked in a slightly shaking tone.

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you wanna go back already. Daddy’s just getting started,” he smirked before holding your hand and walking further away.

“What had gotten into this boy?” You wondered to yourself. How does someone come from quiet and cold to cheeky and adventurous? Was he putting on an act or is this the person he’s always been? You couldn’t tell because both sides seemed so genuine, but by the time you snapped out of your thoughts it was already too late to turn back.

“So, what are you gonna do now?” You asked.

“Taking you out for a drink of course,” he said before walking into the cafe that stood in front of you.

“You think a cup of coffee is supposed to make up for you acting like a stone cold bitch?” You asked casually. To be honest you were trying to match his energy, but this type of lingo really wasn’t your style, and it honestly made you cringe at yourself.

“I can do so much more,” Minho whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek. The flustered look on your face caused him to giggle a bit.

“What the hell is going on?” You thought to yourself.

Once you made your way to the register, you were greeted by the young man behind the counter. He was tall, attractive, and had a naturally toned body. You could tell through the crisp white collar shirt he wore. You were speechless for reasons aside from his looks. As you could assume, he spoke to you in French. And, as you mentioned earlier, you weren’t very good.

Minho watched as a dazed and confused expression formed on your face while your brain played connect the dots. “Don’t worry. I got it,” he smiled before telling the young man what you wanted.

Luckily for you it was just a cup of black coffee. Minho’s ordered something else, but you definitely heard the word for coffee. You felt like kicking yourself in the ass for not studying enough.

You and Minho walked over to a table near a window. It was growing darker by the minute and you were starting to worry.

“So, you wanna talk? Let’s talk. Tell me something about yourself,” Minho said as you started out the window

“What do you want to know?” You asked as you toyed with your fingers under the table.

“Hmm…let’s start simple and then escalate to something a little crazier. How’s that sound?” He suggested, tilting his head slightly to the side.

You nodded in response as he asked you the first question, “What type of music do you listen to?”

"Uhhh. Honestly, I'll pretty much listen to anything," you said switching your attention to the conversation.

"Me too, but I prefer listening to good dancing music. It just makes me feel better," the two of you went on asking a few more random questions back and forth. However, the entire time he was talking you couldn't help but search desperately for that smile. Every now and then you'd see it peek out a bit, but you wanted to see it in full.

"See something you like?" Minho smirked as he ripped you out of your inner thoughts.

"Huh?" you stammered.

"Well, you keep looking at my lips. Did you want to kiss or would you rather keep thinking about it?" he leaned closer to you, flashing that cheeky smile.

You were speechless and you could feel your face heating up as he came closer to you.

"Since you haven't said anything, I assume a kiss is exactly what you want," he chuckled to himself. "Let's save it until after we leave okay. Hopefully, you can control yourself long enough."

It wasn't long before the waiter came out with your order. Two black coffees and a small box with a bow. "What's inside the box?" you asked Minho.

"It's a surprise," he smiled. "You can have some later," he said before sipping from his cup.

You were really starting to like this side of him. Especially the fact that you were the only one who got a chance to see it.

After finishing your drinks the two of you walked around for a bit more before Minho was ready to head back to the hotel. He also told you that he texted Mr. Zhao earlier, telling him that you felt sick and he was taking you back to the hotel. The box of treats was something for the three of you to share.

"I guess he forgot about the kiss," you thought to yourself as you climbed into the taxi.

Even though you initially told yourself that you wouldn't do something like that with him, you were getting the feeling to do a little more than just that.

The ride home was dead silent. It was like he had gone back to his old self again. Completely zoned out on his phone and absent in reality. Was it something you said? Or was that really all just some act to get you to shut up? You weren't sure, but you'd still hold on to the memories from that moment.

The glint from his smile flashed into your head as you walked through the hotel door.

"Feeling better?" Mr. Zhao asked as you came in.

"Yeah," you sighed as you watched Minho silently walk to the bedroom.

"Where're you going?" Mr. Zhao asked him.

"I'm going to take a shower," he muttered before walking into the room.

"Hey, next time you're not feeling well. Make sure you let me know. I could've taken you back here and got you some medicine," Mr. Zhao said, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"Okay, I will," you smiled. "And Minho bought these for us," you said handing him the box.

"Aww. Let him know I said thank you. Did you want to pick yours first?" he asked as he opened the box.

"No, that's okay," you smiled before walking to the room.

It felt like a heavy weight was on your shoulders. The thrill was gone and everything had returned back to normal.

Just like last time, Minho came out of the bathroom with damp hair and plopped on the edge of the bed, tapping away at his phone. You pulled out a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt before heading to the shower.

You turned the water on high, causing the mirror to fog up. You got lost in the thought of Minho coming into the bathroom and joining you in the shower.

You squeezed your thighs together as the warm water ran down your body. You could feel yourself getting more and more excited, but the sound of the soap dropping to the floor startled you. You felt a bit of guilt after realizing that you were getting turned on by a casual interaction with a classmate you never really paid attention to.

You finished up in the shower before balling your clothes up to toss in the laundry bin.

As expected, you saw Minho lying in bed when you came out. The feelings of pure annoyance returned as you thought back to the way he behaved like Dr. Jekyll and Hyde. The two-faced, bi-personality this man wielded was insane. Both sides seemed so genuine. It was hard to figure out who he really was.

You went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before going to bed. You looked over to see Mr. Zhao sleeping soundly on his makeshift bed. He'd gathered together extra pillows and sofa cushions to make a platform on the floor.

You walked back to your room and climbed into bed, moving around to get into a comfortable position.

"Can you keep still?" Minho said sharply.

"Sorry," you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you plopped your head down onto the pillow.

"Here we go again," you thought to yourself. "Random, grumpy, asshole," you sighed to yourself as you rolled over and closed your eyes.

"Hey," Minho whispered.

"What?" you angrily whispered back.

"Did you still want that kiss?" he asked as you rolled over to meet his gaze.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you spat back.

"No, I'm serious."

"You must've lost your fucking mind."

"Sorry, it's just that..."

"It's just that what?"

Minho moved in closer to you. So close that to the point that your faces were barely an inch apart.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about it," he said glaring into your eyes.

"You can't be serious. I'm not falling for this lame-ass act again. Good night," you huffed before turning away from him.

"I'm sorry for getting cold on you again. That's just the way I am," you heard him say from behind you.

"Look, there're two sides of me--"

"Yeah, I see that now," you mumbled, cutting him off.

"Let me explain--"

"I don't wanna hear it. I'm trying to sleep so can you just be quiet," you spat.

Minho pulled the cover off of your body causing you to turn your body over to face him.

"What the fu--" You were startled by Minho climbing on top of you. You were completely speechless.

Your eyes doe eyes glistened under the faint light emitting from the bedroom window. You watched as his body hovered over you. His facial features looked even more amazing in the cool moonlight.

Minho leaned in to kiss you while you were still dazed. Just a small peck, but enough to get your attention. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before kissing again.

You couldn't believe what was happening right now. You were in a shared hotel room making out with one of your classmates while your professor was asleep in the other room.

The kissing intensified as you thought back to your fantasy in the shower. You gripped onto Minho's hair as your tongues intertwined. Your breathing became ragged as you desperately begged for more. But what really got things started was when you accidentally moaned in his mouth.

❤️‍🔥

Minho paused to straddle your body as he looked at you lying beneath him. "What was that for?" he smirked. "Nothing," you lied. "It didn't seem like nothing," he leaned in closer. "Tell me what you were thinking about," he said as he began kissing on your neck.

"I was thinking about you in the shower," you blatantly admitted. You were surprised that those words had even escaped your lips, but Minho's reaction made it all worth it.

"Oh really? And what were you thinking?" he asked as he rubbed your thigh. "Go on. You can close your eyes if it makes you feel better," the feeling of his breath against your neck made your insides flutter.

"I was thinking about you coming into the bathroom and fucking me in the shower," you said as you closed your eyes. You could hear him slightly chuckle in your ear as he moved his hand between your legs. You felt his hands massaging your pussy through your shorts.

"Mhmm. And how did that make you feel?" he asked. "Ngh!" you groaned as he pressed his thumb against your clit. "Nevermind, I already got my answer," he smiled as he felt your pussy throbbing through your shorts.

"How about I tell you a little secret? I wasn't talking in the taxi because I was too busy thinking about all the things I wanted to do to you back there," Minho spat on his fingers before sliding them into your shorts. "And when we came in, I jerked off in the shower because of you," he continued as rubbed your clit.

"You're so fucking wet," he smiled as he kissed you again. "Do you wanna know what I was thinking about?" he asked to which you hummed in response. "How about I just show you," he smirked.

Minho reached down to pull your shorts off. You moved your legs to wiggle them off before they fell on the floor. Minho rubbed the print of his dick through his pants before pulling out his dick. He glided himself between your folds, you watched his dick twitch as he was eager to enter your wet walls. "Mmm. Your pussy feels so good," he groaned.

You sat up slightly to remove his shirt, revealing the scar on his stomach. Minho continued to stroke his dick back and forth between your pussy lips, coating it in your fluids. You watched as the precum seeped from his dick before inserting it into your pussy.

You let out a soft moan as he inched his way through. "Shhh," he hushed as he covered your mouth. "We don't wanna wake anyone up." You felt him pushing every inch inside of you before taking long, slow strokes in and out of your pussy.

The room was filled with the squelching sounds of your pussy and your muffled panting as Minho increased the speed. He moved his hand as he raised your legs to change the position. Your ankles were now over his shoulder as he pounded hard into your pussy. You tried your best to stay quiet, but the pleasure was overwhelming.

You started to moan quietly through your closed lips, that was until Minho grabbed onto your waist and fucked you deeper. A loud moan escaped your lips as he railed you deeper. "You like that don't you baby?" He wrapped his hands around your throat and pushed you into the bed as he hammered your pussy. Choked moans hiccuped from your throat as you reached your climax.

Your chest raised up and down as you gripped onto Minho's waist. "Come on baby. You're almost there," you felt your pussy tightening around his dick as he pumped in and out of you. "That's it. Cum for me like a good girl," he groaned as you panted breathlessly.

You were just at the point where you were about to cum when Minho lifted you up and began drilling you as you squirted all over his abs. Minho pulled you close as his dick twitched inside of your pussy.

Feeling drained but relaxed you weren't ready for what Minho wanted to do next.

Minho dropped you on the bed and turned you over. Your ass was up in the air facing him as he gripped it before hammering into your pussy from behind. "Ugh. I can't get enough of your perfect fucking cunt," he hummed. You could hear the sounds of your skin slapping against each other as he fucked you.

Your legs quivered as you were getting ready to cum again. Your moans were muffled by the bed sheets. Minho pressed your head into the bed as he faintly moaned from behind. "Ngh, fuck. You feel so fucking good." You could tell Minho was reaching his climax as the speed increased even more.

He pulled your body back, gripping one of your breasts in his hand, while the other wrapped firmly around your throat. "Ngh," Minho whimpered as he filled your pussy.

❤️‍🔥

You and Minho fell down onto the bed before lying lazily under the covers. "We can go again in the morning if you want," Minho said kissing your cheek. "You just gotta get up early," he continued before caressing your face. "Then we can fulfill your fantasy," he smirked.

You agreed to some steamy shower sex before the two of you fell asleep, naked and wrapped up in each other's arms.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @nikisdubblchococake @addictedtohobi @parkjonseongswife @hoyeonheeseung @cas104 @doseoflily @neoteez01 @fics-jillian-liked @skzfelixlove @hyunjinswifeee @urfavberry @ihrtlix @emily1310universe-blog @tiddiesbruhposts @stay-berry @hwanghyunjin2 @cherry8183 @hyunjinslovebott @ta3baee @skz-lover21 @skztalkersworld @hyunjinnie2000 @hyunjinswifeyy @luvyblossom @th3-g1rl-y0u-10v3 @bratty-tingz @skzenhalove

[ltash]

Pretty Little Teacher

Simon Ghost Riley x female reader

Warning: 18 plus, dubcon and noncon theme, dark themed, dark ghost, s*x and erotica, forced sex.

He loves me like a monster, all teeth and talk and hiding in the dark. That's my speciality, Men with strong bodies and fragile hearts, and if you hold them too tightly they will crumble beneath you like an avalanche that is waiting."

●●○~ Lindsey Hobart ~○●●

Ghost sat in his dimly lit room, the blue glow from the laptop screen casting sharp shadows across his masked features. Laswell's voice echoed in his ears, calm yet commanding.

"You have to go undercover to gather some intel," she instructed, her face a picture of seriousness on the screen. Ghost's fists clenched, his eyes narrowing as deep creases appeared at the corners. He remained silent, absorbing the gravity of the assignment.

"You'll be posing as a high school student. We have made all the arrangements. The principal and teachers are informed. We need important intel about a person working there. I'm sending you a report. Read it," Laswell said, her tone leaving no room for discussion. She hung up the video call before Ghost could utter a word.

"Fuck!" Ghost cursed, his frustration evident. "Now I have to become a fucking high schooler," he spat, the absurdity of the situation gnawing at him.

As a highly trained SAS soldier and an elite killing machine, Ghost was used to the most dangerous and covert missions. But this? This was entirely different. How the hell was he supposed to blend in as a high schooler with his massive height and muscular build? He would look like a fish out of water, a grown man playing dress-up.

He opened the report Laswell had sent, scanning through the details of his new identity and the target he needed to surveil. The mission was critical, he reminded himself. He had faced worse odds and more dangerous situations. But even as he reassured himself, the thought of navigating the social labyrinth of a high school filled him with a unique dread.

"Guess it's time to go back to school," he muttered under his breath, already strategizing how he would tackle this bizarre new mission.

Ghost scanned the report, eyes moving quickly over the lines of text. Someone from the office staff was involved in terrorist activity, and the school's security was compromised. The specifics were still murky, but the mission was clear: infiltrate, gather intel, and neutralize the threat.

As he read, his phone buzzed with an incoming message. It was Soap.

"Hey, high schooler! Need help picking out your backpack?" Soap's message read, followed by a string of laughing emojis.

Ghost growled in irritation. Soap had been making fun of him since he got the assignment. In truth, Ghost thought Soap was the one who was fit for this job. With his leaner build and younger appearance, Soap would blend in effortlessly. But orders were orders.

"You're just jealous you can't relive your glory days," Ghost shot back, though he knew Soap would get a kick out of his reply.

He closed the report and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. This mission was unlike any he had faced before. It required a different kind of camouflage, a different kind of patience. He was about to step into a world of teenage drama, cliques, and homework. But he would adapt, as he always did. He had no choice.

Monday morning arrived too quickly. Ghost stood in his small apartment, the usual grey hoodie and sweatpants hanging off his frame. Soap had helped him gather the essential school supplies: notebooks, pens, and a new backpack that didn't look out of place for a high schooler. He slung the backpack over his shoulder and slipped on his skull-printed balaclava. His identity had to be hidden at all costs.

He climbed into his Range Rover and drove to the school, parking a distance away to avoid drawing attention. With a deep sigh, he exited the vehicle and made his way to the school entrance.

The moment he stepped into the corridor, the contrast of his presence was stark. Teenagers milled about, chatting and laughing, but Ghost felt like a fish out of water. His height and build made him stand out like a sore thumb, despite the hoodie and balaclava doing their best to conceal his identity.

He pushed forward, reminding himself of the mission's importance. He needed to find his way to the office, get his bearings, and begin gathering intel. The corridor seemed endless, each step echoing with the sounds of lockers slamming and indistinct chatter.

"Fucking Hell," he muttered under his breath, trying to blend in as much as a heavily-built, masked adult could in a sea of high schoolers.

Ghost made his way to the last classroom on the K-12 hallway, assigned as a senior posing as an 18-year-old. Despite being 29 with a muscular build, he hoped to blend in with the 12th graders.

He opened the door and walked in, immediately feeling the curious eyes of his new classmates on him. Ignoring the stares, he scanned the room for any signs of the person he was here to investigate. The teacher, a middle-aged woman with a warm smile, looked up from her desk.

"You must be the new student," she said, motioning him to an empty seat near the back. "Welcome."

Ghost nodded and made his way to the seat, keeping his head down. He dropped his backpack on the floor and settled in, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. The other students eventually lost interest, returning to their conversations and distractions.

As the teacher began the lesson, Ghost's mind raced. He knew he had to keep a low profile while also staying alert for any signs of suspicious activity. His eyes roved over the room, memorizing faces and noting behaviors. The target could be anyone-an unsuspecting office staff member, a seemingly innocent teacher, or even a fellow student.

The day had been a tedious blur for Ghost, each monotonous class blending into the next. Used to the adrenaline of combat and the precision of sniper shots, he found the slow pace of high school unbearable. But all that changed when you entered the room.

Your presence was electrifying, a stark contrast to the dull atmosphere. The click of your red Louboutin pumps echoed in the silent classroom as you made your way to the front. Your black dress pants, stylishly slit, and button-up shirt under a sleek black blazer highlighted your figure. Long, blonde hair cascaded down your back, framing your big blue eyes and perfectly pink lips.

Ghost felt a surge of desire course through him, his mind racing with thoughts he knew he shouldn't entertain. He imagined gripping your tiny waist, pulling you close, feeling your petite frame against his as he lost himself in you. The urge to take you, to dominate you, was almost overwhelming.

"Hey! Newbie, are you listening?" Your voice cut through his fantasies, pulling him back to reality.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, his husky British accent barely masking his distraction.

"Your name?" you asked, standing near his desk, your eyes meeting his.

"Simon," he answered, using his real name to avoid any potential mistakes.

"Well, Simon, try to pay attention," you said with a faint smile before returning to the front of the class.

As you began the lesson, Ghost forced himself to focus, but it was a losing battle. His thoughts kept drifting back to you, and the way your presence stirred something primal within him. He needed to remember his mission, but in that moment, all he could think about was how desperately he wanted you.

The period ended, and Ghost watched you leave the classroom, struggling to control his thoughts. You stood out among the middle-aged teachers, looking so young, no older than 25. How could someone like you be teaching 12th graders? The question burned in his mind, but it was more than just curiosity; he was captivated by you.

He barely remembered the rest of the day, his mind fixated on you. As soon as he could, he retreated to his apartment. The urge to release the tension was overwhelming. Stripping off his clothes, he stepped into the shower, the hot water cascading over his muscular frame. His cock was already hard, fueled by the image of your lips wrapped around him.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hand wrapping around his shaft. He imagined you on your knees, your pink, plump lips taking the full length of his cock in, your big blue eyes looking up at him with a mix of innocence and desire. His strokes quickened, his other hand gripping the air as he fantasized about it tangled in your long, blonde hair.

His body tensed, muscles straining as he neared the edge. The thought of you sucking him off, your pretty little mouth taking him deeper, his cum all over your face pushed him over. He climaxed hard, a guttural groan escaping him as he came, the pearly liquid mixing with the warm water and flowing down his thick thighs.

Leaning against the shower wall, he panted heavily, trying to catch his breath. The intensity of his release did little to quell the longing he felt. As the water washed away the evidence of his fantasy, he knew he was in trouble. This mission was supposed to be about gathering intel, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you. He needed to stay focused, but the image of your gorgeous face and enticing body lingered in his mind, a distraction he couldn't afford yet couldn't resist.

The next day, Ghost found himself eagerly anticipating school, though for entirely different reasons than his usual missions. From the moment he had first seen you, you became his muse, eclipsing the seriousness of his undercover assignment. Dressed in blue jeans, a black T-shirt, and a sleek black leather jacket that concealed his tattoo sleeve, he waited through all six periods just for a glimpse of you.

When you finally entered the classroom, the atmosphere seemed to shift. Students greeted you warmly, but Ghost's attention was solely on you. You wore high heels that accentuated your figure, a casual T-shirt, and form-fitting pencil jeans that emphasized your curves. It was undeniable-you were the most stunning woman he had ever encountered.

As you distributed MCQ papers among the students, you approached Ghost's desk. Your curiosity got the better of you as you inquired about his mask. "Why are you wearing a mask?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine curiosity.

"I get sunburn," he replied smoothly, trying to maintain his cover.

You chuckled softly, the sound sending a thrill down Ghost's spine. "Weirdo," you whispered teasingly, but your words were loud enough for him to hear. The image of dominating you right there, bending you over the desk, fucking you from behind and hearing you begging to stop, flashed vividly in his mind, your body arched in his hands, pussy clenched around his length as he rails his full length till the hilt into you, ruin your pretty little cunt for everyone while you screaming out his name.

"Concentrate on your paper, weirdo," you mocked again as you moved away.

His jaw clenched with frustration, anger simmering beneath the surface. Despite the rush of desire coursing through him, he remained stoic and silent, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He knew indulging in these fantasies could compromise his mission, yet resisting the pull of attraction toward you seemed almost impossible. Ghost was torn between duty and desire, unsure how much longer he could keep his composure around you.

He had finished his paper along with the other students as the bell rang, signaling the end of the period. One by one, they handed their work to you, you seated at your desk. Ghost lingered, the last student to leave, quietly closing the door behind him. Remaining seated, he watched you intently.

Stealth was his forte, and he approached you silently. You were small compared to him, your back elegantly arched as you organized the papers into a neat pile. Standing right behind you, he suppressed the urge to touch you. Suddenly, you moved back, inadvertently brushing against the bulge in his pants. A squeak escaped your lips as you jumped, startled like a bunny, and turned around.

Leaning heavily against the table, you panted, eyeing the behemoth of a man standing before you at his full height for the first time. A shiver ran down your spine from the sensation of his arousal against you. He stood there with a menacing look in his eyes, extending his paper to you. With shaky hands, you took it, feeling a jolt as his gloved hand brushed against you.

Without a word, he turned and left the classroom.

Throughout the drive to his apartment, he couldn't shake the image of you, how your inadvertent touch had stirred a primal urge within him. How you bumped into his erect cock ready to sprung out. The urgency of his mission weighed heavily on his mind, but thoughts of you kept intruding.

Later that day, consumed by desire, he found himself jerking off imagining you once more. He couldn't help but picture your round ass, the sensation of you against him, his cock stretching your gummy walls as he fucks you doggy style, the fantasies growing more vivid with each passing moment. It was a distraction he couldn't afford, yet couldn't ignore.

The next day, he arrived at the school as usual, anticipation swirling within him. Your period had become his favorite, and he waited patiently until you appeared, as usual, with an air of cautious awareness. As the lesson progressed, you couldn't help but notice his chocolate brown eyes fixed on you through his balaclava.

He was no ordinary teenager - tall, dark, and undeniably handsome even with a balaclava on his face, with a presence that set him apart. You felt the weight of his gaze, the tilt of his head to the side like a predator sizing up its prey. Despite the distraction, you continued with your class routine, distributing checked papers to the students, your focus unwavering on your mission.

His gaze remained locked on you, unwavering, as if he had something more than mere curiosity driving his attention. You knew you couldn't afford to be distracted, not with what was at stake.

As you hurriedly left the classroom, your footsteps echoing in the empty corridor, you reached for your cellphone and stepped into the quiet solitude of the bathroom. With a hushed voice, you spoke into the receiver, "Yes! Tomorrow is the day. We will hunt another doe tomorrow."

Across the line, a voice crackled with excitement, "Perfect. After school, then?"

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding to yourself. "After school." With that, you hung up, slipping the phone back into your pocket.

Unbeknownst to you, Ghost known as Simon, the new student who had been quietly observing the dynamics of his new environment, had overheard your conversation.

From the first day of his undercover assignment, Ghost had sensed something amiss. How could a 25-year-old teacher be instructing seniors when others with more experience were available? It gnawed at him, a puzzle piece that refused to fit neatly into place. As he stood in the hallway, a vicious smirk spread across his face.

"So you are the one," he whispered to himself, the realization sinking in. "And now, there's nobody that can save you from me. Not even yourself." His mission had taken a dark turn. You are the one involved in human trafficking.

Tomorrow was the day Ghost knew he had to act swiftly. He slipped on his skull mask, adjusted his gear-blue jeans, black hoodie, and vest. His Beretta rested against his chest while his sniper rifle was ready on the passenger seat of his car.

He parked in the nearly deserted school lot, waiting patiently. It was nearly two hours past school hours when he spotted you approaching from the back of the building. You met with another person near a car.

"The girl is in the bathroom, I've hidden her there. Wait here, let me take her out," you said.

Without hesitation, Ghost aimed his sniper rifle at the man's head and took the shot. Skull fragments and brain matter scattered as the bullet found its mark. A scream tore from your lips as chaos erupted.

Ghost calmly placed the sniper rifle on the seat and stepped out of his car. You saw him approaching and instinctively ran. Darkness was descending, the winter chill settling in.

You ran for your life, heart pounding with fear, but Ghost closed the distance quickly. Desperation set in as you realized you had no weapon. You took out a pocket knife and attempted to attack, but Ghost deftly seized your wrist, disarming you.

You screamed and struggled, but he immobilized you, securing your wrists with a zip tie. With a forceful push, he slammed your back against a car, the impact knocking the breath from your lungs.

Fear and confusion engulfed you as Ghost stood before you, his identity finally revealed, and his intentions chillingly clear.

"Let me go," you tried to scream as he pinned you against the car, looming over you. His 6'4" frame towered over you, casting a dark shadow. The edge of his knife pressed against your throat qnd his hand on your chest kept you pinned against the car.

"Just got you. Now I can't let you go, won't let you go," he whispered in your ear with his husky voice. "How can I waste this pretty little cunt of yours, princess?"

You whimpered and squirmed, fear coursing through your veins. His hand traveled to your neck, his grip so firm that you could barely breathe. You struggled to breath. Your vision blurred as darkness enveloped you, and you melted into his arms like putty.

You went limp in his arms like a rag doll, a pretty little thing for him to play with. He strapped you into the passenger in his car seat and drove off, his mind racing with twisted excitement.

He stroked your hairs with his fingers while he drove. He just had got his little plaything.

Upon reaching his apartment, he carried you inside, laying you gently on the soft sheets of his bed. Even in your unconscious state, you looked so beautiful and irresistible. His excitement grew, his cock twitched from the anticipation building as he stood over you, lost in the dark allure of the moment.

You whimpered as you slowly opened your eyes. Ghost was perched on a couch in front of you. Sitting up slowly, you noticed your hands were still tied in your lap. Your tiny body shivered at the sight of him as he rose to his full height. The room seemed small, his eyes behind the skull mask full of menace, looking straight through you. Your lips quivered with fear as he approached.

"Wakey, wakey, Princess," he taunted, stepping out of the shadows. His blue jeans were tight around his thick thighs, and his black hoodie strained to contain his muscular physique. The skull mask shone dimly in the light. The tattoo peeked through the space between his sleeve and his gloved hand.

You gulped, "Who are you?" you asked in a small voice.

"Ghost. Heard the name before?" He tilted his head to the side, and realization hit you hard-it was Simon.

"What do you want?" you barely whispered.

"You," was his only reply as he stepped closer.

A whimper escaped your lips as you pulled yourself to the other side of the bed and stood up.

"Don't make this hard for yourself, Princess."

Panting, you frantically ran towards the door, but his hands were around your waist in no time. He slammed you against the wall, the impact sending pain throbbing through your back.

His hand smacked the wall beside your head. The barrel of his gun made contact with your chin.

"Look at me!" he shouted, his voice an order. You squeaked in response, your eyes meeting his.

"Good girl," he praised, his hot breath fanning against your face. "I'm a lieutenant, not your average student, and you have to comply-or else." The barrel of his Beretta poked under your ribs. "Choices have consequences," he said softly this time.

"I've been thinking about your body since the day I saw you." He stroked the soft skin of your chest with his gun, trailing it down the valley between your breasts. Your skin quivered under the touch of the cold metal.

"So irresistible, Princess." His husky voice sent shivers down your spine.

You gasped as he snapped your ziptie with a strength so brute it took only a second to come off. Your buttoned blouse came next as he snapped it apart. All the buttons came crashing down on thefloor. Your pearly necklace was snatched from your neck. The pearls came rolling down on the floor.

You gasped as he snapped your bra from the front. Your perky breasts liberated from the confines of the lacy material.

He pulled his mask upto his nose and his lips grazed your neck as his thumb met your nipples squeezing your breasts so hard it was almost painful. A painful moan mixed with pleasure escaped through your lips.

He held you close by your waist and he chuckled as your small waist fitted so easily in both his hands all while kissing your neck while his hands played with the soft skin of your back.

"So soft like plush in my hands." He said as he rubbed your nipples with his rough thumb. A sexy hiss escaped your lips as you threw your head back biting your lips.

"You gave in so easily princess." He whispered. His sexy voice made you moan.

He tossed you over the bed, with a squeak you fell, soft sheets cushioning your back as you landed with a gasp.

His eyes, filled with a hunger that mirrored your own, locked onto yours. "Been waiting to bend you over that goddamn desk in that class and fuck your needy little cunt, princess," he confessed, his voice low and husky with desire.

As he removed his hoodie, revealing a canvas of scars that gleamed against his muscular frame, you couldn't help but gasp. Each scar told a story of battles fought and survived, adding to the allure of his rugged demeanor. His predatory approach, intensified by the skull mask he wore, sent a thrill through your veins. He moved closer with a confident stride, his presence filling the room with a primal intensity that both thrilled and unnerved you.

You gasped as he closed the distance. His hands reached for the strap of your jeans, deftly unbuttoning them with a deliberate touch. With a smooth motion, he slid the denim down your legs, revealing your bare skin in the soft moonlight filtering through the curtains.

"So beautiful," he murmured, his voice a low rasp that sent a shiver down your spine. You laid exposed before him, feeling both vulnerable and empowered by his gaze.

You knew you were powerless infront of him and he will have his way with you one way or another. Wetness had already pooled between your legs and you were trying hard to hide it by closing them.

He traced the barrel of his gun along the soft skin of your inner thighs. Shivers ran down your spine as you felt the cold metal against your sensitive skin.

"Open your legs Princess." He ordered slowly parting your thighs.

"So sensitive, aye?" he said with a mocking tone.

You hissed at the sensation. He slowly pressed the barrel against your clothed folds, eliciting a moan from your lips.

"Please! I beg you, don't do this," you pleaded, my voice trembling.

"Look at you! A wet, hot mess for me," he sneered.

He knelt before you, his hands reaching for your panties. With one tug, he tore the strap, leaving you completely exposed.

"You should thank me, princess, that I'm gentle with you. I'm not very gentle with women. They run from me after what I do to them," he laughed.

Your breath hitched in your throat. "Oh my god," you moaned.

He opened your legs slowly, his fingers parting your folds as he gently touched your swollen clit. Your body quivered with the sensation.

"So soft, so sensitive," he said, as he slid his rough fingers inside you.

A slow scream escaped your lips as your pussy clenched around his fingers. Your back arched, moans spilling from your mouth. He watched your face contort with pleasure as he leaned down, his tongue making circles around the buds of your nipples.

You clutched the sheets, your eyes shut tight as his fingers curled up, hitting just the right spot.

"You sound so pretty, love," he teased, his tongue continuing to play with your nipple. The sensation was heavenly, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

He adjusted himself between your thighs, kissing your entire body as he moved down toward your stomach and then your most sensitive part.

He gently kissed the inside of your thighs before his tongue met your folds. Screams of pleasure spilled from your pretty mouth as he nipped and sucked at your already swollen bud.

"Oh, fuck!" you moaned.

He kept teasing your folds with his tongue, sucking your wetness as he held your hips tightly in place.

He kept torturing you with his tongue until you couldn't take it anymore.

"I-I can't take it anymore," you begged.

"Ssh!" he whispered, placing a finger on your lips. "You're going to take it, just a little longer."

Your body trembled as he continued his relentless assault with his tongue, the pleasure overwhelming. He moved his finger from your lips to your clit, rubbing it in slow, torturous circles while his tongue continued its work.

"Please," you whimpered, your voice cracking with desperation.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "Beg me," he commanded softly.

"Please, please, I need more," you cried out, your body aching for release.

A satisfied smirk played on his lips. "Good girl," he said, his voice low and husky. He increased the pressure of his tongue and finger, driving you closer to the edge. "Now, let go for me."

With his words, you felt the dam break, and waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Your back arched, and a guttural moan escaped your lips as you finally reached your climax. He continued his movements, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from your trembling body.

As you lay there, breathless and spent, he gently kissed your inner thighs before moving up to your face.

You were still high when he unzipped his pants.

"Been waiting for this ever since I laid my eyes on you," he said, taking his cock and positioning himself on top of you.

You looked at him with dazed eyes.

"Like what you see, princess?" he asked with a smirk.

"I-I can't do this," you pleaded.

"You can do this, and you will," he replied firmly.

He pressed his cock against your entrance, bending you down. Without warning, he pushed his entire length inside, pinning your wrists against the bed. You screamed as your walls wrapped around him, your body struggling to adjust to his size while he fucked you deeply, not giving you any time to acclimate.

You were completely at his mercy, a plaything for his desires.

"Fuck! Princess, you feel so tight around me," he growled, thrusting in deeply.

You were breathless, disoriented by the intensity of it all. He drove into you with unrelenting force, hitting inside you to the extreme. Your back arched under him as waves of pain and pleasure coursed through you. His cock was so big it made an impression inside your belly where it hit.

"How does it feel, me ruining your pretty pussy, love?" he growled, sitting back on his knees and gripping your waist tightly.

Your eyes rolled back as he railed into you with brute force, the sensations overwhelming and consuming.

Whimpers escaped your lips as his hips thrusted against your pelvis. Skin to skin, the intense connection between you sparked a fire that threatened to consume you both. You hid your face in the soft pillow, the tears mingling with your whimpers, your cries echoing in the room like a haunting melody.

He chuckled at the sight before him, the raw vulnerability and passion in your every movement only adding to the intoxicating air surrounding them. "Look at you, eh," he murmured, his voice a low growl filled with satisfaction. "Taking me so well."

With a sudden move, he lifted you up by your waist, your heart racing a mile a minute, your vision blurred with the overwhelming sensation of being completely lost in him. "Oh my god, I am gonna die," you whined, the words a mix of fear and ecstasy that only served to fuel the flames of desire burning between you both.

But he just chuckled, his hold on you firm and reassuring. "Not on my watch, luv," he whispered, his voice a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of emotions and pleasure that threatened to consume you.

He pulled out abruptly, spinning you around and delivering a stinging slap to your ass.

You clutched the sheets as he seized your hips, pulling you towards him and plunging deep inside once more. A primal groan escaped his lips as he grabbed your hair, tilting your head back and driving himself deeper with each thrust.

Your impassioned cries only fueled his intensity. With a firm grip on your waist, he pounded into you relentlessly, embodying the raw, primal desire of a man possessed. Your body arched and trembled on the bed as he pinned you down by your head, pressing your face into the bed.

"I can't do this anymore," you begged him.

He pulled you up onto your knees, his free hand gently gripping your neck while his other arm rested between the valley of your breasts. His hold on your neck was firm but not painful, asserting his control. With a strong grip on your waist, he thrust deep into you.

You leaned against his chest, your face turning towards him as you neared your release. He captured your lips in a hungry kiss, swallowing your moans.

His cock twitched and pulsed as he reached his climax. His movements grew erratic as he poured himself into you, filling you with his essence.

Exhausted, you collapsed onto the bed, eyes shutting tight as the waves of ecstasy washed over you.

He settled beside you, carefully tucking you under the sheets while you lay on your stomach, peacefully asleep.

"Sleep well, princess," he murmured, his fingers gently caressing your hair.

The next morning, you woke to find him already seated on the couch, wearing the same skull-printed balaclava, his eyes still filled with menace. Your whole body ached and marked with hickeys. Last nights encounter spiralled in your mind.

"Good morning, princess. I hope you're feeling well," he greeted you, tossing an oversized t-shirt in your direction.

Confusion and fear gripped you. "Who are you? Why did you do this to me? What were you even doing in my class?"

"I'm Lieutenant Simon Riley, also known as Ghost," he replied coolly. "I was in your class because we've been keeping an eye on you. Now, get dressed. You have visitors."

You rose silently and headed to the bathroom to change. As you finished, there came a knock at the door.

He opened it, and police officers entered the room.

"She's all yours," he stated with a smirk beneath his balaclava.

"You'll regret this! I'll make you pay for this!" you screamed as they cuffed you and led you away.

"Fuck you!" You screamed.

He chuckled darkly, watching as you were taken into custody.

"I just did." He winked as you were taken away.

[bun-nnybun]

Okay, so I got a new lip tint, and I'm having some very nsfw thoughts

Kissing and giving Si a bj while wearing a glossy liptint, but his dick gets stained for a bit 🤭 even better if it's one of the plumping liptints >:3

~💋 [Can I be 💋 anon?]

YES HELLO SWEET ANON i apologize to all of you its taking me so long to respond so much going on this past week my first ever anon with a emoji YIPPIE! bUT THIS IS SO GOD DAMN GOOD i love a good liptint i personally use this one that looks like blood i bet you look to die for in that liptint ANYWAY a lil somethin for ya NSFW MDNI

Simon definitely has a thing for lips; maybe it's because his are dry and scar-covered, but he LOVES seeing your lips all nice and soft, even lovingly putting chapstick on you no matter where you are. His favorite pastime is holding your chin between his fingers. He uses his thumb and pointer finger to squish your cheeks lightly, making your pretty lips pout for him as he applies your favorite flavor. So when you come home one day from the mall with a small bag in hand with a name he recognizes, excitement courses through him immediately. He follows you like a guard dog throughout the house as you climb the stairs to your bedroom. He's right behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body hovering behind you perfectly. "I got a new lip tint today," you chirp as his hands reach your hips. Without looking at him, you could tell he was grinning, knowing exactly where this was heading. It doesn't take much longer till you are sat between his massive thighs, his pants and boxer pulled down enough to let his cock free, leaking from its pretty reddish tip aching for your attention, but Simon ignored it for now, he was too busy looking at your sweet face as he slowly spread the wand of the lip tint applicator against your bottom lip letting out a pleased groan as he watched the shimmery light pink liquid coat your soft lips. "There we go...look a' that...so pretty... spread it around your lips for me, " says Simon in that deep, husky voice that makes your heart flutter. You obey immediately, letting him watch as you press your lips together, letting the glittery pink substance stain the rest of your lips, giving them a lovely crepe pink. His honey-brown eyes never left your lips, and a soft groan pulled from his as he watched you smile up at him. One of his hands went to your chin, making you sit up on your knees, nice and ready for him. he slaps his thick cock against your cheek a few times, watching as his precum sticks to your face letting the needy tip run from your cheek to your cute lips. his breath hitching as he rubbed his cock head against your bottom lip, watching as the glossy gel coated his member. "open that mouth for me, love." Immediately you obey, parting your lips, letting your tongue stick out just like he likes letting the tip of his cock rest gently against the flat of your tongue, adoring the way your drool pools in your mouth. Slowly, his fingers lace through the locks of your hair, nails lightly digging into your scalp, making you let out the soft, sweet moans he loves so much. Your soft gloss-covered lips slowly warp around his bulbous head, making a breathy groan rip out of him as his eyes shut, taking in the feeling of your wet, warm cavern suckling and licking at his tip, his grip on your head tightening. Slowly his hips start to move, rocking in and out in small short thrust, inching more and more of his enormous cock past your pink lips watching as the lip tint spread over his shaft, coating it in a sticky, glittery pink liquid. he let out moans through gritted teeth as his eyes opened, watching as his cock became covered, your plush lips swallowing his member, letting it slide down your throat with a cough and a gag. You eventually grew more used to it, letting yourself breathe through your nose. With a rough thrust, he finally buried himself deep down your throat, holding your head down so your face was buried in the thick hair that lay at the base of his member, taking in his musky scent. The sight of your lips wrapped fully around his cock as your eyes welled with tears and the makeup smeared and coated his hair. He was panting out of breath, taking in your disheveled form as you focused on not choking. "What a good fucking job you're doing, love. Your pretty mouth is always so good for me."

this is all i could do!!!!! >.<

[myechoecho]

When the Phone Rings, ep 5

I genuinely loved this episode.

Sa Eon is slowly piecing together the reasons behind Hee Joo's mutism and knowing that mom had something to do with it. We finally get to see some of Hee Joo's relationship with her sister. Hee Joo was basically kept as a slave to interpret for In A in the accident. In A, apparently, did not learn bother to learn sign language. Based on what little we've seen of In A in the present, I am nearly positive that she is not deaf. She may have been at one point but I don't think she is now. It would be properly soapy if she went away to have some operation to regain her hearing.

Back to Sa Eon, while he wants her to talk, he's also not pressuring her all that much. He keeps encouraging her and he's already figured out that there must a massive secret that she is terrified to reveal. Even with all his power she does not feel safe enough to talk. Plus he clearly has his own secrets that he is not ready to reveal.

What will get Hee joo to talk? Screaming Sa Eon's name and pushing him out of the way of a moving car. Yes, we love to see this. And we love to see his coat on her and him taking care of her. Once he comes to his senses more, he remembers that she screamed his name. But he just says that he wants to hear it again and that she should let her voice be heard. It's not entirely unlike what he told her when they were kids and he saved her from the dog.

I love how both of their minds break when she accidentally sends the smiling heart eyes emoji. She's mostly panicking about what to do. He literally cannot process it. The man has to take off his glasses to look at it. The little heart emojis swirling around his head was unexpected for this type of drama but I liked it.

The best think is Sa Eon is actively trying with Hee Joo. I get the sense that one of the reasons he never tried before is because he didn't think she would want him to since was the replacement bride. But the phone calls have changed that and he is really trying. He asks for outside advise and is following it. He's learning sign language. He recognizes that she underestimates herself and wants her to stop.

I will say that I liked the blue dress far more than the black and white one. I don't even think it was all that flashy? It's a light blue and somewhat form fitting, but the only somewhat flashy part of it are the sleeves. The dress is nearly full length and has no open back or glitter or jewels.

As for Sa Eon learning that Hee Joo is the one on the phone, I think he knows there is more to it. Where would Hee Joo even get that technology?

I also have a good idea of who the blackmailer is but it is based off one of the only spoilers I've seen of the web novel so I'll put it behind a read more since at this point in the show it's only hinted at:

So a couple episodes ago Sa Eon said that his parents were the type of people to replace their children and I speculated that he was a replacement for a brother. Turns out Sa Eon IS a replacement but was some random kid and not related to him at all. The real Sa Eon is probably that psycho kid Sang Woo saw . Real Sa Eon wanting to slice up a cat is probably why he was replaced. And is now back as the blackmailer to get revenge. Our Sa Eon is likely one of the missing kids that Sang Woo is talking about.

Random, but Yu Ri seems kinda pointless. I don't hate here but have no clue why she is there.

[comfortless]

in my pottery class thinking abt how much i would rather be painting with König rn pleading emoji btw

lele you are in my head always.. König being artsy..? awkward, spontaneous infatuation developing over sharing portraits of each other? yes yes… 💞

There’s a new man in your class that you have never seen before, not around the rest of the community center. The perplexing titan has chosen to take up painting, of all things, and you wonder as he steps through the threshold of the door how he will ever even be able to hold a brush without the wood splintering in those massive hands.

Painting is calming, gentle most of the time. Only, he embodies that feeling of a failed brush stroke, an accidental tilt of your wrist leaving a swirl of mottled colors that would take far longer to fix than it could ever be worth. Dark, dreary and tense as he seats himself directly next to you.

His creations are dark things, abstract shapes of gray and maroon; red lightning and murky sea. Each dip of pigment glistening off of your own brush leads to softer scenes; poppies and silhouettes of sweet creatures grazing and basking beneath the amber rays of a sun hanging lofty upon the canvas. Gentle things to warm a heart where as his own are to expel something from a chest wound, infected and bursting.

He takes note of your bewildered stares, two weeks after his joining, and even makes a point to place himself at the back of the room, far enough away to keep you from seeing the quivering of his wrist as he paints a new apocalypse. A mercy or an insult, you couldn’t be certain.

When the time comes to create a portrait of one of the other participants, you approach him without thought. “We can paint each other,” you offer, voice like a bowstring. He only nods, once, and allows you into the space adjacent to him as he shifts his long limbs beneath the table in an attempt to accommodate you.

Just mercy, it was, then.

König isn’t talkative, even as you pester over details and ask him to tilt his head a certain way just to ensure you’ve picked the perfect placement for one of the rogue freckles dotting his cheek. He complies with a wide-eyes stare, one that leaves you feeling a strange mixture of curious and uncomfortable. Each time you look up, you notice that the gaze hasn’t lessened, it only proves to be more incessant and intense.

You show him his portrait; attention drawn to the eyes, each fleck of fluorescent light painted in them with the same color used for the pale white of his scars. This is one to be proud of, a certain reverence to the piece that you’ve lacked entirely in your painted fields of little white and gray blotted sheep.

His version of you is a splash of dandelion yellow, flecks of pink in a sea of black. There’s no face to be seen, but it is beautiful in its simplicity. You marvel at it, holding the canvas up to the light and your eye catches on something— buried just below the still-drying paint, a small scrawling of your name in the shimmering gray of pencil lead. You almost think you can make out the shape of a small heart somewhere in that mess of cheap acrylic, too, before the piece is gently tugged from your hands.

“It needs to dry,” he tells you, casually discarding it back onto the wooden table and examining your depiction of himself instead.

You watch as his eyes seem to light up, that weariness within them suddenly gone as his stare drifts from top to bottom of your canvas. You know that you’ve done well, with a certainty when his focus shifts back to you and a barely-there smile is tugging at his lips.

He tells you that he can not paint anything like you, and when you ask him just what that means, he only tells you that you’re just too pretty. The reality is obvious— his hands shake, but only around you. You’ve seen him nodding along to something the instructor says to him as the older man leans over the table to inspect his art, and König has only seemed stiff, unbothered.

There’s a cup of chamomile tea prepared for him the next time he enters the room and you’re nothing but demure smiles and sweet greetings as König takes the space next to you once more.

It’s just as he’s taking a sip that you decide to innocently ask: “Have you ever painted anyone nude?”

He sputters for a moment, trying to conceal the rising tide of crimson that creeps up from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as he turns away from you.

“Nein, but I would like to try.”

[digitaldiarystuff]

Age Doesn’t Matter (or does it?) Pt. 2

summary: You meet a boy at a club on a night out but realize he looks younger than he says he is

pairing: Pablo Gavi x Y/N

genre: fluff/ smut

————

You woke up with a massive hangover and for a second forgot about last night. That was until you picked up your phone to a hundred messages from Pablo, Pablo Gavi.

They started with a slight denial.

“What makes you think that??”

Then got a little freaked out.

“Did someone tell you that?”

And then came the confession.

“Yeah, I am.”

But it didn’t stop there.

“Okay yes I lied but you would never talked to me if you knew, I could sense your panic while asking my age and I freaked out I’m sorry but I didn’t want to blow my chance.”

“Did I blow my chance?”

Then he got agitated.

“Are you going to leave me on delivered for ever?”

“Why aren’t you saying something?”

“Are you asleep?”

You were in shock for most of the texts but him asking if you’re sleeping via text got to you and you started cracking up. He was a little too needy and now that you know you have a 4 year age gap and he’s a football star you just couldn’t continue this. However, his infatuation with you kind of made your heart flutter, he was too sweet and persistent for his own good. One text won’t hurt, you thought.

“Yes, I’m asleep at the moment.” you said and got a response in less than a minute.

“Ha ha very funny, have I told you I have a thing for funny girls?”

“You apparently also have a thing for older girls?” you teased. His age was still a problem.

“Maybe I have a thing for you.” and when you didn’t answer “Look I really am sorry I was just afraid you wouldn’t want anything to do with me if you knew my age.” and another “You know billions of people in relationships have age gaps and they all get along well.”

“Are you only this talkative when you’re sober or did I drink too much last night?”

“Okay I understand I’m not on your best side right now but I’m free tonight if you want to meet and I can show you why age doesn’t matter.”

Your mind went blank for a second and you remembered how his hands and lips made you feel last night, you hadn’t been intimate with anyone for a really long time and to be fair, Pablo looked far more attractive than any guy around you and his text just rose your heartbeat but your obsession with his age was nagging your brain constantly.

“I’m busy” you said terrified about his effect on you.

“Tomorrow?”

“Can’t”

“The day after?”

“Can’t”

He sent a frowny face emoji and you thought it was the end of the conversation. It made you a little sad but you wouldn’t admit it but a few minutes later you got another text.

“What are you doing now?”

You stupidly thought this was just an ice breaker and said you were at home not doing anything.

“Then send me your address” he texted and you realized he wouldn’t give up easily. You mentally slapped yourself but gave him the address anyway. He said he’d be at yours in half an hour which was too little in your opinion, your home was a mess and so were you.

After taking a quick shower you weighed your options about outfits, it should be put together but not too fancy or he’d think you wanted to look good for him, which you did.

Finally you decided on biker shorts and an oversized crewneck. And you also applied some concealer under your eyes and started putting the dishes in your dishwasher and even stuffed all your clothes lying around your room to your closet hoping he wouldn’t snoop in there. Thank god your roommate was at work and you didn’t have to worry about her. As you were finishing up cleaning around the doorbell rang and you took a breath and saw Pablo on the side, your drunk mind didn’t play any games to you and he still was gorgeous. His hair was wet and he had a duffle bag on his shoulder smiling widely at you.

“Hi” he said timidly.

“Hi, come in” you said and let him in. “Were you at training?” you asked given his outfit and bag. He sat down on one side your L shaped sofa and you sat on the opposite side.

“Yeah, I came straight out of practice.”

“So when you texted me”

“Yes I was still on the pitch.” he said giggling.

You loved how much effort he put into just texting you but also hated how it made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“Would you like to drink anything?” you asked whilst getting up.

“Just water would be fine.” he shrugged and you got 2 bottles giving him one. You hated how your eyes diverted to his biceps while he was grabbing it. He really made this hard for you.

You both took sips and didn’t talk for a moment.

“Look Pablo, I” he cut you off with a kiss. His hands found your cheeks and you reciprocated after a second placing yours on his chest. He backed down after a moment to seize your reaction. But he saw you, eyes closed and enjoying yourself so he kissed you again. This time he was much more confident in his moves, he grabbed your waist and made you straddle him like you weighed nothing, getting you more aroused. Your legs were on both his sides as you never broke the kiss. He then started kissing your chin and neck making his way around your body and you used this opportunity to get rid of his shirt.

His hands held your lower back and you involuntarily rolled your hips against him invitingly. His eyes rolled back for a second and said “Can I?” and you just nodded. He took your hoodie off and saw you weren’t wearing any bra underneath.

“I see you’ve prepared for me.” he cockily smirked and you rolled your eyes but his confidence made you want him even more. He hungrily attacked your breasts with his mouth while you were rocking your hips and pulling the hair on the nape of his neck. You could feel his bulge underneath you growing every second. He then made you lay down on the couch and went for your leggings, looking to your eyes for permission.

“Please” you said in a small voice and were shocked about how needy you were. This was new to you.

He smiled and rolled your leggings down your legs. Suddenly you felt overly exposed and reality hit for a second until he saw you were wearing a burgundy lacy thong, he smiled but kept his mouth shut. You could practically see the lust in his eyes and that made all insecurities disappear. He started toying with the hem of your underwear and you were barely able to wait.

“C’mon Pablo I need you to show me age doesn’t matter.” you whined hoping to get some action and it seemed like it worked. He didn’t even took your thong off just shoved it aside and started to pepper some kisses around your core. He also started to rub your inner thighs and when you were about to complain again, he shushed you with a lick across your folds and all your words disappeared immediately. You forgot how to breathe for a second but Pablo kept on going and going until you were arching your back and screaming his name. After you came, he wanted to give you a moment to catch your breath but he was about to explode if he stopped now. He was a goner as soon as he heard his name roll over your tongue as high pitched moans. He freed his member and started running his hands over it a few times before reaching out his pocket and pulling a condom out, you rolled your eyes again but he smirked and said “I was hoping you’d want me as much as I want you”

He put it on your entrance and checked if you’re okay with this but all you could muster was a nod. You were still seeing clouds because of the orgasm he gave you mere seconds ago. He coated himself with your juices and pushed it in. You yelped at the feeling but he wasn’t going to give you time to adjust as he started thrusting with all his power. All the practice he goes through daily made his stamina another level and his movements never slowed down only sped up and after a while you both became undone.

Both of you were still trying to catch your breaths, his head was on your chest and his arms around your waist. He looked up at you and you melted, he looked like an angel even though he did some devilish stuff to you minutes ago, his eyes were the best brown you’ve ever seen with hints of honey and his post hair sex was even more appealing than his regular hair.

You didn’t say anything but he still understood what you wanted to say and kissed your lips, not like the previous ones fueled by lust, just adoration and you smiled into the kiss realizing maybe age really didn’t matter.

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note: okokok just hear me out, this is the first time i’m ever trying to write smut and i don’t even know what to think but i hope you enjoy it, lmk if you have any ideas