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boldlyvoid · 1 year

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Sweet Nothing

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Penelope made a friend on the internet over covid who just so happens to live in the same town Dr. Reid just got a new job... and playing Cupid is her favourite thing in the world

Warnings: strangers to lovers, meet cute, 40-year-old virgin Spencer, Virgin reader (late 20's/early 30's), picnics, food mention, lots of Taylor Swift references, first times, Spencer is on anti-depressants, oral sex fem receiving, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sweet sex, lots of communication

Word Count: 12.6

Making friends on the internet was never easy… it always came with its own set of unique difficulties. People lie, anyone could be secretly crazy and when actions don’t really have consequences on the web, they can get crazier.

That being said, Y/N has recently made a wonderful friend in a woman named Penelope.

Penelope’s Tumblr page was pretty normal, very pink and vibrant and happy, but normal nonetheless. She’s in her early 40s, an internet veteran, an ex-employee at the FBI and known for creating a brand new, very safe, social media platform for young people. She was very easy to trust, very forward and easy to open up to as well, which made the two of them bond instantly.

And despite the age difference and the long distance, Y/N would consider Penelope to be her best friend.

She knew everything about her from her favourite colour to her hope and dreams and favourite singer… and also the fact she was a virgin well into her adult life and dying to get out there. They’ve spent most of their friendship discussing their equally awful dating lives, would-be lovers and almost hookups. Both women have tried time and time again to find love, however, nothing ever seemed to work out… until the day Penelope got an idea.

“I have a friend…” Penelope leads, something sinister in her eyes. “And he’s single and pretty cute, too…”

“Do you have a crush?” Y/N lights up thinking this is a happy moment for Penelope. “Oh my god, Penny tell me all about him!!”

“Well, no, actually… I want to set you up with him,” she explains further, in a much softer tone. “He’s so soft and sweet and a few years younger than me… and still a virgin.”

Her eyes grow impossibly wide and her jaw drops momentarily, “you’re kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Wow,” she takes a moment to soak it all in. She sits back in her chair and lets her shoulders drop as she thinks about it. And for once, Penelope is quiet too. “How much older than me is he?”

“He’s 41… which I know it’s a lot older than you but he’s what you’re looking for and you’d be so perfect for him. He’s so wonderful and he’s waited for so long to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and I know you’d love everything about him if I told you everything but I want you to meet him and find out for yourself… sorry, that was a lot.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” she actually loved when Penelope went on little rants like that. “I just don’t really have the funds to fly to Virginia right now—

“That’s another reason why he’s perfect for you, he’s moving to Reno next week!!!” Penelope can’t help but shake her hands with excitement while her voice raises at least a pitch if not 3.

“Is this the same friend who’s already from Nevada?” Her eyes light right up like a cat staring at a laser… she’s seen photos on Penelope’s personal Facebook, everything from selfies in new glasses to the parties with friends and throwbacks from working at the FBI… “doctor what’s-his-name?”

“Spencer, yeah oh my god? I can’t believe you remember him?” Penelope asks and she just shrugs, “See, this is why you’re perfect for Spencer, he talks a lot like I do, only about much smarter things but you’d be able to keep up.”

“I’d love that, actually,” she swoons, feeling slightly embarrassed about how the possibility of having a boyfriend makes her so giddy. “I’d love to listen to someone talk about what they love and just sit there and look at them…”

“Perfect, I tell you! Perfect!!” Penelope exaggerates, “he’s moving in a few days but all his things are already there. The department paid for his relocation and everything, I’m so surprised he actually decided to go this time, he’s been thinking about it forever.”

“Ask him if he wants some help unpacking when he does get here and I’d love to give him a hand,” she agrees fully, taking a leap of faith and seeing where this could go without the fear of the unknown weighing her down.

—

She shows up at Spencer's apartment 2 days after he arrives in Reno, a bottle of Welcome to the Neighbourhood sparkling cider and an assortment of muffins in her arms, thinking it would be quick and easy for him to take the muffins to work over the next few days, unlike a flower arrangement he didn’t need taking up space in his downsized apartment.

She takes a deep breath before she knocks, her knuckles are barely off the door when he opens it. She barely has a moment to prepare before she’s smacked with the realization that this man is very handsome and incredibly smart… and so, so intimidating.

“Hi,” he smiles at her. “Is that— you didn’t need to bring anything?”

She looks down at the basket she’s holding and then back up to see those beautiful brown eyes, “I know… sorry, um, Hi, welcome to the neighbourhood,” she hands him the basket with the best smile she can muster, slightly embarrassed to be so flustered by the mere sight of him.

“Thank you, come in,” he steps out of the doorway so she could walk in, he steps away from the door completely and sets the basket on a moving box. “Sorry, it’s a mess, the movers just put the boxes wherever they wanted, so I’ve been reorganizing where they were supposed to go,” Spencer explains, gesturing to the room around them.

“It’s okay, that’s why I’m here,” she’s cheery as she shuts the door and starts to take her coat off. “Can I just leave this over here?”

“Yeah, actually—“ he reaches for the closet door, “I found the box with hangers first so you could hang your coat when you got here.”

“She said you were a genius,” Y/N teases, holding her coat up so he could slip the hanger inside and hang it on the bar. She sets her purse down inside the closet too, just for safekeeping.

“I hope she hasn’t talked me up too much,” he’s honest with his fears. “I’m afraid I’m actually quite average, maybe tilted towards the strange side…”

She gives him another smile, but ultimately shakes her head, “Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me anything really personal. I only really know about you from stories she’s told me about her old job, but nothing in detail… I was just starting to get to know her when you were hospitalized before the pandemic and she was by your side a bunch so she wasn’t online and I was actually worried something happened to her 'cause she’s never that quiet.”

“Oh, yeah, that was awful,” he agrees, pressing his lips together awkwardly while he thinks about it. But then he takes a deep breath and his shoulders drop. “So I was thinking we could start in the kitchen? I’ve found most of the boxes.”

“Yeah, lead the way,” she says, following him through the front room to the living room that was connected to the kitchen by means of an archway. “Oh wow,” she muses aloud, “this is going to be nice to decorate…”

“You think?” He looks a mix of worried and confused, “I have no idea what to do with the place.”

“I’m sure once we start taking out all your things we’ll figure something out,” she knows she can make a room out of anything, it's how she decorates her classroom each September. Just with sheer will and pure hope.

“I had to downsize a lot to come here, I donated most of my books so I wouldn’t cost the department a fortune moving them out, but I still have a lot,” he shares, both proud and a little embarrassed that 50% of his boxes are for books. “I don’t have many personal things or decorations… I honestly wasn’t in my last place enough to make it feel homey.”

“You’ll be here often, though, right?” She asks, selfishly, she can already see them becoming somewhat good friends and she wants to be able to see him regularly.

He nods, “Yeah, I’m going to be working with the sex crimes unit, 9 to 5 every day unless there’s a big case,” he explains. “Like human trafficking or a pedophile ring or something, but I doubt I’ll see an overwhelming number of those right now, it’ll be nice to downsize to just a city instead of dealing with the entirety of The United States.”

“I have 4 different groups of teenagers that I teach, which is like 120 kids alone, I can’t imagine being principal and having a thousand kids to watch out for,” she can relate it back. “I’m sure this will be less stressful for you… still awful sometimes but—

“But I’m good with stress,” he assures her. “Especially this kind of stress. You know, when I first started at the BAU I had a co worker who transferred over from sex crimes in New York, she actually had a great time cause she got to kick some creeps ass every now and then.”

“Oh that’s cool, I guess,” she tries not to be jealous, knowing he’s probably had lots of meaningful relationships with women throughout his life, but that’s not going to stop him from getting to know her.

She grabs a box that says mugs and lifts it to the edge of the counter island instead of dwelling on these bubbling feelings for who is essentially, a stranger. “Which cupboard did you want the mugs to go in?”

“Uh,” he gets nervous then. “I have about 3 boxes of mugs… so wherever they fit?”

“Sounds good,” she can’t help but smile, it was cute. “Do you like to collect them or something?”

“Kinda,” he reaches into his pocket and takes out an exacto-knife, handing it to her so she can open the cardboard box. She pushes the knife out of its plastic sheath and starts to cut along the tape seam.

The first mug she pulls out is a pink octopus, “oh, this is so cute?”

“That’s Mildred,” he can’t help but smile, “I got that from Penelope on her last day at work.”

“Oh,” she holds it to her chest in a sweet hug. “I can’t wait for her to come and visit, I just know she gives amazing hugs.”

“Actually, she hugged me before I left and said that I was supposed to pass it along to you at some point…” he looks at her softly, slightly terrified. “Which is strange 'cause she knows I don’t like touching and we’ve never met before but for some reason, she knew I’d still want to hug you upon meeting you…”

She can’t help but laugh, placing the mug down on the counter, “is that an invitation?”

He nods, opening his arms and allowing her to step into his space. She wraps her arms around his middle and holds him close, feeling his large hands on her shoulder and upper back, his thumb lightly caressing the fabric of her shirt.

She stays there in the hug for a moment and then pulls back, “I’ll be sure to tell her that you passed that along.”

“Good,” he’s smiling like an idiot, bright red and flustered, falling head over heels for her already.

At least, the little voice in her head thinks so. Making her smile back at him with the same giddy hopefulness that she’s longed for most of her life.

—

He feels like the most awkward person in the whole fucking world. Hiding away in the living room to unbox something alone and give himself a moment of anxiety without having to play it cool in front of her any longer.

She’s pretty, she’s nice, she smells like honey and happiness and new beginnings… Penelope raved about her for days when she heard he was moving to Reno and now he can see why.

Y/N is amazing… it’s almost too good to be true.

She’s in his kitchen humming while she unpacks box after box of his dishes, moving around his new space like she was always meant to be here too. Like she’s a ghost or an extra piece of the pre-furnished listing. Like it was hers first.

He can’t quite place what song it is that she’s humming, but it’s nice. He wanders over to the archway and leans against it, watching her in admiration as she slides some more mugs to the back of a shelf. He knows he wants to ask her out for real. Not just as friends, not just for help or convenience but because his aura is drawn to hers and the colour they could make together has never been made before.

When she turns around to grab another mug she’s startled by his presence in the doorway, “gosh,” she gasps and places her hand on her chest to get over the initial shock. “What the heck, Spencer?”

“Sorry, it’s just…” he licks his lips and thinks it over before saying it, “It’s so nice to have you here… it feels right.”

“Oh,” she softens, he can see a weight lift off her shoulders and her eyes glimmer under the lights. “Thank you, thats the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?”

“Would you want to go on a real date, tomorrow?” He can’t help but ask. “I know Penelope was hoping for us to date and I hate that she’s always right but, I would really like to go on a date with you.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” she makes her way around the counter and over to be closer to him. “I’d love that, what do you want to do?”

“Um,” he really didn’t think that far ahead… “can I surprise you?”

“Sure,” she gives him the sweetest, most hopeful smile that makes his heart swell.

“Is there anything you don’t like? Or are allergic to? Anything I should avoid?” He can’t help but ask. The last thing he wants is to surprise her with something that makes her distance herself from him. It’s happened too many times before.

She shakes her head, “not that I can think of?”

“Okay,” he smiles at her, stepping into her space more. “I found my Alexa that Penelope got me years ago, did you want me to put on that song you were humming?”

She looks like a dear in the headlights, she clearly forgot he could hear her when she was humming. “Oh, um… no? I don't think you’d like the song.”

“It sounded nice when you were humming?”

“It’s embarrassing…”

“What is it?”

She sighs and gives in, “Taylor Swift has this song that I listen to when I dream about the life I want and it’s been stuck in my head all day cause I’m in your kitchen… and the lyric is outside they’re pushing and shoving but you’re in the kitchen humming, all that you ever wanted from me was Sweet Nothing…”

“That’s not embarrassing,” his heart swells. “Penelope is a matchmaker, has she ever told you about all the couples she created at the FBI? She’s responsible for 5 marriages and by proxy about 10 babies.”

“Wow,” Y/N’s a bit taken aback by that. “So you’re saying she’s like Cupid?”

He nods, “Or she’s able to see fate's design a lot better than us.”

“One hug? That’s all it took?” She teases him.

“A few mugs?” He teases right back.

“Hey, you can tell a lot about a person by what they hoard,” she bites back, trying not to smile too hard.

He just shakes his head and backs up, headed back to the living room with her in tow. “Hey Alexa, what’s the Taylor Swift song that says you’re in the kitchen humming.”

“That would be Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Midnights By Taylor Swift, released October—“ the British man's voice comes booming from the small speaker only to be cut off.

“Hey Alexa play Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift,” he orders with a smirk plastered to his face.

“Okay, here’s Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Amazon Music.”

Within the first few notes, he knows this is going to be their song. He extends his hand to her, silently asking her to dance even though he doesn’t really know how… and by design or some exquisite happenstance, she takes it.

With one hand in hers, his other hand lands on her hip while her extra hand is placed ever so gently on his shoulder. Chest to chest, eye to eye, they smile and sway along to the flow of the tune. Her hand squeezes around his own slightly tighter, the tune matches exactly how she was humming in his own kitchen and then he hears the lyric she mentioned.

They said the end is coming,

Everyone's up to something,

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.

Outside, they're push and shoving,

You're in the kitchen humming,

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.

He spins her around making her laugh as she crashes back into his chest and holds him tighter. She wraps her arm around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. The music is loud, but his thoughts are louder. He wants everything this song mentions but with her. Only her. And it’s been only an hour and a bit that he’s known her. He doesn’t even really know her but he craves to.

“Do you write poems?” He asks after the song mentions them.

She shakes her head, “no, but I know you read a lot of them… do you write them too?”

He nods, “Sometimes… maybe I’ll make you one.”

“I’ll probably cry,” she admits.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

She is soft-hearted. She’s sweet and kind and wonderful, too. She tilts her head to the side to rest against his own. Now cheek to cheek, he lets out a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. She hums along to the song, just soft enough for him to hear, not quite on key, but it’s endearing.

They’re quiet for the rest of the song and keep swaying, knowing it’s going to end soon and they’re going to have to pull away. They don’t want to… luckily the song is on a loop. It starts right back up and so they don’t pull away.

—

His place is still a mess when he gets ready to leave the next morning. After their dance, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on unpacking and he knew he’d be too tempted to hold her all night long… so she went home. He helped her into her coat, he hugged her goodbye and she left, taking a piece of his heart with her.

He’s not as used to Reno as he was with DC, but one look at the map and he was able to find the grocery store quite easily. He walks there because he opted not to bring his shitty car with him. He sold it with the promise of looking for a new one here in Nevada, but it was actually a lot nicer to walk in a sunny place like this. And on days when it’s not as nice, taxis exist for a reason. He really didn’t need a car, anymore.

He didn’t realize how much he missed Nevada until now.

He spent a lot of last night thinking about what he wanted to do for their date and came up with the splendid idea of a picnic. The first thing he did was call Penelope, it wasn’t too late for her back in DC, so he didn’t feel too bad, but he had to ask her some questions. He wanted everything to be perfect. She talked his ear off and then gave him an extensive list of the things she knows Y/N likes from past conversations, it turns out they’ve spent a bit of time talking about snack foods and it was finally coming in handy.

He comes back to his newly unpacked kitchen with bags of groceries, he prepares sandwiches on croissants and cuts up cheese and puts them on toothpicks with fancy slivers of meat… and he bought some new Tupperware so the meats and cheese can be in one and the fruit he bought can be in another. He bought her favourite drinks and some cute disposable cups to put them in because he didn’t have anything other than coffee mugs, which he was sure she wouldn’t mind, but he did.

He wanted this to be perfect for her.

All while he was packing their picnic basket, he listened to Taylor’s music, thanks to Penelope he had a playlist of her favourites to get himself caught up on them and ended up liking most of them himself. Especially one called Maroon. The lyrics are so powerfully written and wondrously sung, it’s as if a heart-stopping novel was put to music and all told within 3 minutes and 38 seconds. Taylor Swift is a genius, that much her lover got right in sweet nothing. What a mind, indeed.

Just a little past her apartment, there is a little park with a lovely field of flowers beside it. It’s a perfect spot for a picnic, so once he’s finished packing their picnic, he sets off on a walk to her apartment, thinking a walk to the park together would only add to the ambiance of the day.

He makes it to her place a little before 11, like he told her he would, and spends a few seconds in the hallway to catch his breath and fix his hair before he knocks. And when he does knock, it’s 3 times and he hits the wood pretty hard with his knuckles. Inside, it’s pretty quiet and then he hears her call out, “Just a sec!!”

He waits patiently for a minute or two and then she wipes the door open while putting in an earring, “Sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was.”

She’s breathtaking. She’s all dolled up and it’s all for him. He can’t believe it.

“That’s okay,” he manages to breathe out, leaving his mouth hung open as he stares.

She just smirks and reaches out for him, touching his chin and redirecting his jaw closed. “You don’t want to catch flies…”

He blushes, uncontrollably, and bows his head, bashful as ever. “Sorry, you just look beautiful… I’m not used to someone getting all dolled up for me.”

She lets out a huff of breath through her nose, settling all her nerves, her shoulders drop and she stares at him like he’s the only man in the whole world. “You’re so sweet, I almost can’t believe you’re real.”

“That feeling is mutual,” he assures her.

She finally looks down at his hands to see him holding a picnic basket. “Oh my god, are we going to have a picnic?” She lights right up.

He nods, “is that okay?”

“Okay? It’s perfect, Spencer!” She’s so excited and it’s real. She’s not playing it up or anything. She’s genuinely over the moon. “Let me just put on my shoes and grab my purse, you can wait in here.”

“Okay,” he steps inside and closes the door behind himself as she runs off into he bedroom.

It’s a small apartment. Her bedroom and bathroom are separate rooms, but the kitchen, living room and the washer and dryer are all exposed. She has it set up really nicely, it’s warm and inviting and happy and he could see himself making a home on her couch in the upcoming weeks of getting to know her. He couldn’t wait to learn about her favourite shows and movies and books. He wanted to hear all about her family and friends and co-workers, even her favourite students and the ones who irked her. He wanted to hear about it all. He wants to know her favourite colour and how she likes her pizza and her pasta and what her favourite baked good is. There’s an endless amount of personal things that he can learn, and he wants to know it all. He wants to love it all, too.

When she returns, she has her shoes on, her purse over her shoulder and a blanket draped over her forearm. “I don’t want to sit on the grass, and I didn’t think you fit a blanket in there…”

“Oh, shoot,” he looks down at the basket and realizes that was the one thing he forgot. “Yeah, we’re going to need that.”

“Thought so,” she smirks. She walks back over to the door and grabs her keys, “anything else you need?”

“Just you,” he replies without thinking it over.

“Stop being so sweet,” she nudges him, staring up at him like he hung the stars, himself.

“Or else?” He teases. It’s remarkable how easy it is with her. It just flows out of him like the script was already written between them.

She steps even closer into his space, “you get a kiss for every compliment,” she says, standing on her tip-toes, she presses her lips to his cheek for 1, 2, 3 seconds of pure bliss.

She drops back down to her normal height, a smirk plastered to her face, proud of the lipstick stain that’s almost as red as his blushing cheek. She reaches up to wipe it off but he pulls back, “don’t…” he’s adamant. “I want everyone to know you’re mine if you’re going out looking this beautiful beside me.”

“Okay then.”

—

Like a real man, Spencer insists on standing closer to the road as they walk along the sidewalk. A few moments into their walk, he transitions the basket to his right side so that his hand that’s closest to her is free and she notices it right away. She has draped the blanket over her left arm, leaving her right hand free… all but begging him to take it. But he’s shy and quiet and he doesn’t know how to just do it.

So she does.

She takes his hand in hers and interlocks their fingers, smiling up at him as they keep going forward, “have you ever been to this park?”

He shakes his head, “No… is it nice? The reviews online said it’s clean and there isn’t a lot of illegal activity there.”

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, it’s a nice park. Sometimes I hit up the bookstore down here and then I go read in the park. It’s nice in the summer when I have a week off between my regular job at the school and my summer job.”

“Summer job?”

She nods, “Mhm, you know, 'cause I only work at the high school when school is in session and I don’t make enough to take two whole months off so each summer I take a new job. Like last summer I worked at a daycare but the summer before that I was at a ladies' clothing store a few streets over.”

“What are you going to do this summer?” He asks, intrigued.

“I’m not sure yet… I’m still friends with some of the girls at the daycare so I might go back, but honestly, I’m also thinking of putting in my application for summer school and I might tutor some of the kids that need help graduating,” she explains. “Cause I know how hard it is to try your best and still just not get it. They shouldn’t be punished for having a hard time.”

“You sound like a wonderful teacher, I’m sure they’d really like to have you in the summer, too,” Spencer compliments. “I was always closest to the kids that didn’t do very well in school. It’s not that I pitted them or felt like I could improve them, I just liked who they were as people, more.”

“They’re lovely kids, they just get pushed to the side because they either learn differently or they can’t do the work at home for whatever reason. And they shouldn’t be punished for that, it’s not their fault that most kids nowadays have to work to help their families or become a second parent to help their younger siblings. They barely have the time to take care of themselves let alone do 5 hours of homework a night,” she rants, “I genuinely hate how the school system is currently.”

“My nephew is in high school currently and he isn’t having the best time,” Spencer shares. “He calls me for help on his math homework sometimes and it always floors me that even if he got to the right answer, if he didn’t follow the exact formula that the teacher uses then he gets a 0. There are many different ways to solve an equation, and as long as he shows his work it should count.”

“Exactly!” She raises her voice a little and startles a lady passing them. “It’s frustrating to watch them struggle with shit they’ll never use again unless they’re going into a math-dominated field. It’s not fair.”

“More kids need a teacher like you,” Spencer says, giving her hand a little squeeze.

“Why, thank you,” she gleams. “If we weren’t in the middle of the walkway I’d kiss you again…”

“The books store is just up here, you can kiss me in the aisles… if you really want to?” he kids, but not really. She can tell he wants another kiss from her.

So she drags him into the bookstore, they tell the worker that they’re just looking and perusing the store, calling out the titles they know and rating the backs of the ones that seem interesting until they’re in the back aisle. She turns to him with a smirk, “Are you gonna make me stand on my tip-toes every time, bean sprout?”

He smirks and places the picnic basket down on the floor so his hands are free, “I could just kiss you, instead, you know?”

“You wouldn’t be so bold?” She tempts, secretly hoping he will.

He tentatively reaches out, placing his beautifully soft hand on her cheek and caressing her skin with his thumb before he starts to lean in. She closes her eyes in anticipation, just mere seconds before their lips touch and like the big bang, universes were created in the pitch-black darkness behind her eyelids. Colours she’s never seen before, feelings she’s only read on pages that surround them, and a warmth in her chest that seems so foreign… yet so right.

He goes to pull away and she leans back in, dropping the blanket in the process to kiss him again and again until his tongue slips past her lips and it's more than just a kiss. It’s the start of something beautiful. Something more than Penelope ever thought possible when her two friends ended up in the same town at the same time.

They’re brought out of the moment by the sound of a woman clearing her throat, “You actually have to buy something you can’t just make out back here.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m so sorry!”

The two of them rush out with equally guilty mugs. She grabs the first book she see’s, “We’ll take this.”

“I’ll meet you at the register,” the keeper replies rather snidely and over it as she walks away.

Looking down at the book, it’s a poetry book by an author she’s never heard of before. “You know this one?”

Spencer shakes his head, “surprisingly, no.”

She picks up the blanket again, he grabs the basket and the two of them slowly make their way towards the cash. “Sorry, again,” Y/N says, pressing her lips together awkwardly. “I don’t know where that came from, we really just wanted a book for our picnic.”

“I’ve been in love before, I get it,” she waves it off with a growing smile. “This is a good choice… it’s only 6 dollars as well.”

“I’ve got it,” Spencer steps forward, taking his wallet out of his pocket and handing the woman two 5 dollar bills. “Do you take tips or donations?”

“Always, it keeps the lights on,” she’s happy to take the extra money, exchanging one of the 5’s for 4 1’s and placing them in a jar behind the desk. “Thank you, I hope to see you back here sometime.”

“Definitely, I’d love to have a real look next time,” Spencer teases as Y/N takes the book. He places his hand on her back, “thank you.”

“Have a good rest of your day,” she adds for good measure, following Spencer towards the door.

“You too! And enjoy your picnic!” The lady calls back just before they leave.

“God,” Y/N scolds herself, “I can’t believe that happened.”

“Spencer just laughs, “It’s not that embarrassing… believe me, I’ve walked in on much worse.”

“I can imagine, I mean, Penelope told me about some of your cases,” she says with the roll of her eyes. “I really don’t know how you did it for so long.”

“Honestly, me either,” he agrees with her there. “How much do you know about me? Because she never told me much about you and I’m worried we’re not on even playing grounds…”

“Oh, not much!” She tries to sound as believable as possible. “She basically told me you’re a genius, she loves you like a little brother and some little anecdotes like you were shot in the knee once and were on crutches for months and you wear a lot of purple which I’ve also seen in the Facebook photos she has of you… but nothing super personal.”

“Okay, that’s good then… cause she’s seen me at my worst,” Spencer admits as they make their way toward the park entrance

“She was basically big brother to you guys,” Y/N teases.

Spencer manages to laugh, “Yeah, she was.”

The gates to the park are open, there are children running about cheering with one another while their parents sit on the benches and talk, barely watching on. They pass everyone and head right back to the grassy area behind the playground, past the soccer fields and take cover under a baby Willow tree that still has lots of growing left to do, however, she’s still big enough to cast a good amount of shade on them.

She lays out the blanket perfectly and takes a seat while Spencer gets down on his knees, placing the picnic basket in front of himself. All while they’re still talking about Penelope. He takes out two plastic champagne flutes and hands them to her first, then he sets out the bubbly drink he got, followed by 4 Tupperware containers. “Speaking of which, I called her last night and she told me about your favourite snacks…”

“No way?” She can’t believe it.

He simply nods, a smirk growing, “It would seem you two love food.”

“Well, it’s always late when we call so she’s seen a lot of my nightly snacks,” She admits. “Is that? No way…” She takes one of the containers and opens it up to find little croissant sandwiches. “You want me to fall in love with you? Don’t you?”

He’s startled to hear it and she can’t believe she said it. It was forward and real and incredibly honest. But Spencer nods. Of course, he nods. “Yeah, I do.”

She looks at him like that 'I do' was the big one. The most important one. And to her, it’s almost more important. “Really?”

“I’ve spent most of my life completely alone, I’m tired… and I’m not settling, not at all, no,” he stutters out and worries he’s offended her. “I just mean, I like you, you’re wonderful already and everything I look for in a person and if you loved me I’d be the luckiest man in the world.”

“Wow,” she can’t believe it.

“Sorry—

“No, no,” she reaches out, dropping the container so she could touch his knee instead, “don’t, I’m just shocked, really…”

“Really?”

She nods, “Yeah, not many people have just openly told me that they like me let alone want me to love them?”

“Me either,” Spencer admits. He’s ready to lay his whole heart bare to her. “I really want someone to love me and if that someone was you then I could die happy.”

“Not on my watch,” she manages to smile. “My love means taking care of you. My love includes worrying and obsessing and making you entirely mine… it’s driven people away before we could even start anything real, I don’t want that to happen here.”

“It won’t,” Spencer is quick to reply. “It can’t drive me away, it’s exactly what I want… and I want to love you just the same.”

“You won’t have to try hard,” she teases, smiling up at him. “Come on, get comfortable, grab a sandwich and talk to me. Tell me about yourself and watch it happen.”

“Okay,” he follows her instructions.

He gets comfortable on the blanket, taking off his shoes so he can sit crisscross applesauce and he pours them each a glass of sparkling cider. “I’m sober,” he shares first. “I had some drug problems in my 20’s and I find if I avoid all substances, except coffee, then I won’t slip.”

“Wise man,” she compliments. “I don’t drink either, mostly cause drinking alone is sad and I don’t like how it makes me feel.”

“And I picked this pinky one cause of the line in Paris…” Spencer admits which makes her peak right up. “You know, fake wine makes believe it’s champagne…”

“Oh my god, you listened to Midnights?”

He nods, “I went back to listen to Sweet Nothing and thought why not?”

She can’t help but shake her head and smile, “That’s so cute, you have no idea how cool this is for me. No one I know really likes her, everyone acts too cool for Taylor Swift and then you come in and listen to her on your own accord? That’s— that’s everything to me, Spencer.”

“I think she’s amazing, well, so far, at least,” he admits. “I’ve only listened to the one album but it was a great album, I particularly enjoyed Maroon.”

“Her track 2’s are always my favourite,” Y/N raves. “She saves track 5 for her personal favourites or songs that mean the most to her, like on Red there’s this one called All Too Well and it’s originally 5 minutes but on the new recording of Red it’s 10 minutes and it’s so good. It’s insanely beautiful.”

“I can’t wait to listen to it,” he can’t help but smile. “I love listening to you talk about her, you glow.”

“Here,” she pulls out her phone and headphones from her purse and plugs them in. “We can listen to it now if you want?”

“Okay,” he agrees, taking an earbud and placing it in his ear while she moves closer to share the other.

And for 10 minutes they sit there in silence, she eats her sandwich and he listens to the words with the most admiration. The hurt is palpable, the passion is gut-wrenching… he loves it and she can tell from the look on his face. He’s so focused and enthralled. She feels a warmth in her chest that she hasn’t felt before, something in this moment is what makes her really love him. She isn’t just infatuated, he isn’t just cute and nice… he’s special.

“That was amazing—

“I never want to feel like that,” she whispers, staring at him intently. “don’t break my heart, please.”

“I don’t plan to?”

She lets out a deep breath she didn’t mean to hold, “I’ve never dated anyone before because I can’t go through the heartache. She made it seem so fucking awful I never want to feel it.”

“It’s awful,” he admits, all the hurt he’s experienced comes forth, pooling behind his eyes as tears form. “I was in love only once. She died before I could tell her.”

“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry,” she can’t believe it. “When?”

“In 2013.”

“Have you been single for 10 years?”

He nods, “Basically. I tried to date before the pandemic but she wasn’t really my type, it was more convenient so it didn’t last.”

“Oh.”

“This isn’t like that,” he assures. “You’re kind and beautiful and you have a normal job and you make people's lives better… you’ve made Penelope’s life better. You are sunshine—

“Do not call yourself midnight rain I will laugh,” she cuts him off, biting back a smirk.”

“I wasn’t,” he laughs too, “but it works here, too.”

“I’m not always sunny,” she adds, making sure he knows that.

“That’s okay,” he’s fine with it, really. “Even on gloomy days, the sun is just behind the clouds.”

She can’t believe he just said that. It’s so beautiful and kind and about her? It makes her just stare at him, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out. She doesn’t know what to say. “Oh, man… I’m going to fall in love with you so quickly.”

“Me too,” Spencer smiles, reaching out to hold her hand. He grips it tight and doesn’t break eye contact with her, “and I’m excited about it.”

—

He only lives around the corner from her which means they see each other every day for the next week. They wake up at the same time, they get coffee before work, she drops him off at the police station and then she heads to the high school. After school, she goes and picks up something for dinner and he Ubers right to her apartment to eat. They talk well into the night, they listen to music, they watch documentaries and movies and they cuddle… she knows almost everything about him and he knows almost everything about her. He’s going to meet her family in the summer, hopefully, and she’s going to meet Diana in a few weeks.

Being together is the most fun she’s ever had in her entire life.

And while they’re not going on dates to get to know each other, they are dating and Penelope is happy about it for the most part. She’s just upset she lost her nightly chats with Y/N on Zoom. They barely even text now.

When Penny finally does get Y/N on the phone, however, it’s on a night that Spencer has an intense case in Reno. The BAU are back in town… 3 women have died this week, all online sex workers, they never walked the streets and yet that’s where they’ve ended up. It’s heartbreaking.

“I called him today during his break and he just sounded so defeated, it breaks my heart,” Y/N says with her hand over her chest and pleading eyes, “it’s too bad you’re not working with them again.”

“Their new tech guy is good,” Penelope assures her, “and he’s got JJ and Luke with him so he’s fine… he’s more than fine, he’s Spencer.”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “he is fine…”

“You guys really like each other?” Penelope digs, she wasn’t going to pry and press too many questions but she can’t help herself.

Y/N nods, “Yeah… I think I love him.”

“Really?” Penelope lights right up, “Oh my god?”

“I know! It’s been so nice, we were going to go on another date tonight but, you know, duty calls…”

“How many have you had so far?”

“Uh,” Y/N doesn’t really know. “Well, we unpacked boxes last Saturday and then on Sunday we went to the park and I’ve seen him every day this week…”

“I know,” Penelope pretends to be mad about it but she can’t stay fake mad for long. She loves them both too much. “I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you too, I just like cuddles with my boyfriend more…”

“Boyfriend?”

She nods, “Yeah, I think that’s what we are, I mean, we’ve already talked about what we want and he said he wants to fall in love with me so I think that makes us boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Spencer said that? Shy, nervous, Spencer Reid?” Penelope can’t believe it.

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, I guess that’s him… I don’t know, he’s a lot less shy with me.”

“Have you—

“No, no, not yet,” she waves her hands in front of the screen and looks panicked. “No. We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“No?”

She shakes her head, “No… I mean, I want to and we’ve had some nice make-out sessions but we haven’t done anything more than kiss.”

“Wow,” Penelope is genuinely shocked. “I thought you would’ve jumped him by now.”

“Hey,” she says with a cheeky smile. “I have self-control… so does he, I guess cause he hasn’t even tried to cop a feel or anything, he’s super reserved.”

“Well yeah he’s spent 40 years being a virgin,” Penelope says without any malice, she’s just stating a fact. “He’s used to things not going there. I think you have to make the move.”

“I was thinking that too,” she doesn’t sound excited about it. “I’m just really scared even though I know I shouldn’t be when it’s Spencer. He’s going to be very sweet and he’s already told me he thinks I’m beautiful and I feel it around him… it’s just so nerve-wracking.”

“I was still a teenager when I had sex the first time and it was so scary, I wish I waited,” she really emphasizes Wish. “I wish I was mature and chose someone good and deserving and I wish he cared about me. But you have all those things right now, it’ll be worth it now.”

“I know,” she tries her hardest to believe her. “I know it’ll be okay… it’s just the anticipation feels more like anxiety.”

“Which is totally normal, but it’ll go away when it happens, believe me.”

“I do.”

—

Spencer's cause goes on another 4 days. She brings him coffee and donuts after work, she meets his friends and ex-collogues and she understands now why he had to get out of it all. Emily is just a few years older than him and fully grey, JJ sneaks out to make phone calls to her family who she doesn’t see as often as she wants and Luke is still single no matter how hard he tries. The job takes things from them.

She gives him a hug before she leaves each time, never a kiss, that would embarrass him in front of his new co-workers and his old ones would never let him live it down. So he gets just a hug. It’s long, they linger and then she goes home.

It’s weird being home without him now that he’s been there often. She misses him dearly, every day. All through the weekend, he works. And then the case ends on a Tuesday at 3 in the morning and stays up just for her. He buys them coffee, he walks to her place and he knocks on her door right at 6:30, 15 minutes after he knows her alarm has gone off.

She opens the door dazed and confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed my best friend.”

“Get in here,” she tugs him inside and makes him put the coffees down so she could have a proper welcome.

She cups his face in her hands and kisses him with so much force and passion, it startles him. But he kisses her back. He wraps her up in a big hug, bringing her in closer, he deepens the kiss with the swipe of his tongue and she pushes him back against her door. It’s as fiery as the first time, it’s better than the kiss in the bookstore, there’s so much more feeling in it now.

His hand roams up the flat of her back, over her shoulders and rests on the nape of her neck. His thumb caresses the skin under her ear, causing her to moan into the kiss and pull away, embarrassed. Her eyes go wide and she stutters on her way to find an excuse but Spencer just smiles, still caressing her, he brings his other hand up to cup her cheek, “It’s okay… you’re so cute.”

Her cheeks heat up and she feels bashful as all hell. “Shut up,” is all she can manage to say. “I’m still half asleep, I mean, you should be lucky I already brushed my teeth before you surprised me.”

“Mm,” Spencer hums, running his tongue over his teeth, “that’s why you’re so minty.”

She just pulls away and reaches for her coffee, “And now I can’t drink this until the minty-ness goes away, so thank you.”

“Should I go awa—

“No,” she rushes out. “No, you can stay. I can drive you home on my way to work.”

“Okay,” he can’t help but giggle a bit as he makes his way closer to her, reaching out for her waist. “You like me…”

“Shush!” She swats him away, “I have to get ready, don’t tempt me.”

“Just one more kiss? Come on, isn’t it the deal that I compliment you and you kiss me?” He begs. “You’re so beautiful and smart and lovely—

She steps closer to him and presses her lips right to his only to pull back just as fast. He cups her face in his hands and stops her from moving away too fast and peppers kisses to her lips. “Spence— Spencer!” She giggles while trying to pull away, “Seriously, I have to go to work!!”

“Fine,” Spencer sighs as he lets her go, only to pull her back in for one last kiss. “Okay, now you can go.”

She just laughs as she pulls away and heads back to her room, “Come on, you can sit in my room while I get ready.”

“Really?” He follows even though he doesn’t believe her.

“Why not?” She doesn’t see why it’s a big deal, “I’m just doing my makeup and then I have to pick an outfit and I’ll change in the bathroom?”

“Okay, yeah, sorry I just thought you meant you’d change in front of me and I didn’t think we were there yet?”

“Oh, no,” she agrees. Taking a seat at her little makeup desk, she turns to him. “When do you think we should be ready for something like that?”

“When do you want to?” He questions her right back.

She shrugs, “I don’t know… this Saturday is 2 weeks of us being together so, I mean, most couples start moving further around then?”

“We’re not most couples,” he reminds her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Spencer hesitates, he looks a little nervous but he sits on the end of her bed anyway. “I’ve never had sex before… I’ve wanted to, I’ve tried.”

“I’ve never even tried,” she’s incredibly honest. “Making out is as far as I’ve gone with anyone.”

“Really?” He almost can’t believe it. “Why?”

She shrugs, “I’m over-emotional and incredibly soft. I can’t do one-night stands and I’ve never trusted anyone enough to experiment before.”

“Oh,” Spencer softens, “you feel safe with me?”

She nods, “Extremely.”

He gets up and wraps his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. She snuggles into him and holds onto one of his forearms, they both sigh. Completely content with one another.

—

They agreed to try and go further on Friday night. They both have weekends off, so they could spend the whole weekend together if they wanted to.

And when Friday comes, she isn’t nervous. It’s just a Friday.

She placed an order for Chinese food when she got home from work and texted Spencer right after so he could get it on his way over. It was closer to his place and convenient this way and he just liked to get it for them. And while he’s on his way, she takes the time to bring out some comfy blankets to put on the couch for their cuddles later and she lights some candles and turns on her fairy lights. Her whole living room is set in a soft, romantic mood with the hopes that they could do more than just cuddle tonight…

Spencer knocks 3 times to let her know it’s him and then he walks in, “Hey, so they ran out of spring rolls but they gave us egg rolls instead, is that cool?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she doesn’t care, rushing over to the door she takes the bags from him and puts them on the table by the door instead.

He slips out of his shoes and puts them beside hers, then he takes his bag off and places it beside his shoes, next he takes off his coat and hangs it up. He even locks her front door for her, these are all things he’s used to doing after 2 weeks of visiting. She clears her throat when he takes too long to turn back to her, “excuse me, I’m waiting,” she teases.

“Sorry,” he steps closer to her and places his hand on her cheek as he leans in for his welcome home kiss. It’s a new tradition that she loves so much and clearly he does too as she can feel him smile through the kiss. He kisses her once, twice and a 3rd time just because he can, “there, happy?”

She shakes her head and cups both his cheeks, pulling him in for a longer, more passionate kiss. His hands go to her waist, holding her closer to his body, he wraps her up in a hug as well. She pulls back with an audible “mwah,” and a smile on her own face. “Now I’m happy.”

“You’re so cute,” he compliments. “I missed you so much today.”

“I missed you, handsome,” she compliments right back. “Um, I missed you so much I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay over tonight?”

“Oh?” He’s only slightly surprised, “yeah, I’d like that… I just need to check my bag, hold on.”

“Okay?” She’s a little confused about why he has to, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She just watches him open up his satchel and search the pockets.

“Oh, good,” he says with relief in his voice as he pulls out a bottle of pills and his toothbrush. “I haven’t told you yet, but I’m on antidepressants… I take them every night before bed.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she says without a second thought. “Do they help?”

He nods, putting them back in his bag until later, “Yeah, I like them.”

“Good, now, come on,” she grabs the bag of food and makes her way over to the kitchen so she can start dishing everything out. “Did you check that they had everything?”

“You bet, after they forgot the red sauce last time I’m never not checking the bag again,” he says as he follows her.

They spend a few minutes in the kitchen as they fill their plates with a variety of food. Spencer opts for a fork while she uses the chopsticks provided in the bag and then they move back to the living room. They put their plates on the coffee table and sit down criss-cross apple sauce together on the floor in front of the couch. The remote is on Spencer's side of the table, and the TV is on and ready for them to pick a show, but instead, Spencer asks how her day went.

“Oh, it was okay with my juniors we worked on SAT prep and then with my 3 freshman classes we worked on their independent study unit and I’m now considered the cool teacher cause I let them listen to their music while they read,” she shares with a smile. “And then for my spare I filled in for Miss Tyndall, the arts teacher, so we watched a David Bowie doc while they all worked on different projects.”

“Sounds like a fun day,” Spencer loves to listen to her talk about it all. “You’d be my favourite teacher too.”

“I know,” she can’t help but smile. “How was your day?”

He shrugs, taking a forkful of fried rice, he covers his mouth with his hand while he talks, “It was okay, no one died so that’s a bonus.”

For the rest of their meal, they share little stories, about their day and things they heard on the news or on TikTok, funny anecdotes and memories from their separate pasts. It’s nice. She could listen to him all day and he felt the same. When their plates are empty, they both lean back against the couch and Spencer turns to stare at her with so much love in his eyes.

“I’m really enjoying my nights with you,” he shares, and in the silence, she feels it. But he says it anyway, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says and a feeling of relief flows out of her in the form of a sigh. Her shoulders drop, and she looks over at him with a sweet smile, silent as they take in the moment. “I love you so much.”

He places his hand on top of hers, both of them are in too much of a food coma to move closer or kiss or anything. They just hold hands and stare at each other.

“I get it now,” she whispers. “I understand what she’s been singing about all these years… this feeling right here. It’s worth the heartbreak, I think.”

“I can’t tell the future, but I know I never want to leave you,” Spencer replies, voice equally as soft. “I want everything with you.”

Her heart starts to beat out of her chest but she knows she has to ask it. “Would you be my first?”

“Only if you’d be mine?”

She nods, tears bubbling behind her eyes, and she squeezes his hand. “I’d love nothing more… but I’m in a food coma right now.”

Spencer breaks out in a burst of historical laughter first, causing her to laugh just as hard and lean into his shoulder.

“Well, then it’s a good thing we have all weekend,” Spencer finally says, he wraps his arm around her and holds her close.

“Even if we don’t do it tonight, do you want to sleep in my bed with me?”

He nods against her, “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that a lot actually. It’s really hard to leave here in the middle of the night knowing you’re sleeping alone in there when we were just cuddling right here,” he motions to the couch. “I want to wake up with you next to me every morning.”

The warmth that fills her stomach is a mixture of extreme happiness but also anxiety… it’s almost too good to be true. She pulls away and looks up at him with fearful eyes, “is it normal to fall in love this fast?” The words just tumble out of her.

Spencer shrugs, “I mean… I’ve always heard the saying ‘when you know, you know’ and I’ve read a lot about love at first sight and the way we pick our mates based on familiar facial structures that make us feel safe… and I’ve been in love before and I never met her—

“But I understand why you loved her, she was the only person in your life other than your mother to truly take care of you and listen…” Y/N cuts him off, remembering the night he told her all about Maeve.

“Yeah, and from the first day I met you, you’ve done the same,” Spencer reminds her. “You brought me muffins so that I’d have something to eat before work and you wanted to help me unpack and every day since you have cared for me more than anyone I know. Onto of that you’re beautiful and easy to talk to and you’re not only wonderful to me, but to everyone, you know. It wasn’t hard for me to love you, I’m just surprised you love me.”

“Why?”

“Well, for starters I’m a 42-year-old man who’s spent the last 20 years of my life hunting serial killers and I had a drug problem and I’ve killed people and I was in prison… you know everything and you still love me?” Spencer really can’t believe it.

“Mhm, I love you because despite all that shit that’s happened to you, you still have a sweet smile and a big heart and the best mind I know,” Y/N confirms everything he needed to know. “I love you because you’re you. There’s no other reason.”

He cups her cheek and looks at her with the softest expression known to man, “I’m going to love you forever.”

“Show me?” she whispers, pleading with her eyes to know just how much he loves her.

“Do we just leave our plates here?” He teases, going to stand up.

“I guess we can put them away,” she agrees, she moves to her knees and gathers up her own plate while Spencer does the same with his.

They meet again in the kitchen, placing both plates in her dishwasher, she turns to the leftovers and starts to pack them away while Spencer moves back over to his bag. He grabs his phone and something else while she’s not looking and he opens up Spotify. He doesn’t have many songs saved to his account, just some classical music and the most important song… Sweet Nothing.

She turns to him within milliseconds, “Spence?”

He places his phone on the counter and hands her a little rock, one he picked up on his walk over to see her before work last week. He never had the time to give it to her between all their kissing and her getting ready for work. “Here… it’s only May but I can get you another rock in July.”

She doesn’t want to speak or she’ll cry, but she manages to say: “okay,” as she takes it from him and steps into his space to dance again. In her kitchen this time…

She rests her head on his shoulder, his arms around her waist, they sway to the sound of the music and hold each other close. And then he kisses her shoulder and the side of her neck up to her ear. He cups her face in his hand and stares into her eyes, “bedroom?”

“Bedroom,” she agrees, taking his hand in hers, she leads him back into her room and turns on just the one table lamp she has beside her bed, “should we light candles and stuff?”

“Do you want to?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, isn’t that what people do when they have special sex?”

“Special sex?”

“You know, first times, birthday sex, anniversary sex… emotional sex,” she redefines what she meant and surprisingly she isn’t embarrassed.

“Candles would be nice, then,” Spencer agrees with a smile. “Do you have condoms? Are you on the pill?”

She smirks, “I bought some condoms on Tuesday after work.”

He watches her open her bedside table and take out the box of condoms and a lighter, she hands him the condoms, “Here.”

“Thanks,” he reads them over, latex-free, real feel, they’d work perfectly.

While he’s reading over the box, she lights a few candles in her room and he takes a seat on the side of her bed, watching her. When she returns to him, she stands between his legs and rests her hands on his shoulders. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer smiles up at her and reaches out to hold her hips. He plays with the hem of her shirt, “how do you want to do this?”

“Can we strip down to our underwear and get into bed and kiss for a bit and see where it goes?”

“Of course, yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer agrees, he pushes up her shirt and she lifts her arms to help. Spencer has to stand up to pull it all the way off and then he looks down at her in her bra. “wow…”

“Thanks,” she smirks, shaking her head as she reaches for his shirt to undo the buttons, “they’re just boobs…”

“Just boobs,” he repeats with a small chuckle. “I’ll have you know everything about you is spectacular.” And with a rush of confidence, he cups both breasts with his hands, he runs his thumbs over where her nipples are hidden under the fabric and she has to bite her lip so she doesn’t moan.

“Do you like that?”

She nods and pushes his shirt off his shoulders until it's discarded on the floor. “Yeah. I don’t think you’ve ever noticed but… your hands… I watch them when you talk and when you’re tracing a page as you read really fast and you use two fingers instead of one and I’ve wanted you to touch me from the moment I saw you.”

“Mmm,” he turns her around and motions for her to get on the bed and she moves quickly, she’s resting her head on the pillows when he’s suddenly hovering over her.

He runs his pointer finger from her chin, down her neck and between the crease of her breasts before cupping them both again and places kisses on her exposed chest. She arches into the contact and his hands follow both her arms until his fingers are interlocked with hers. Holding them over her head as he kisses her neck and shoulder.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, “how’d I get so lucky?”

“We have a great mutual friend, remember?” She teases,

He groans “Don’t mention her when I’m about to go down on you…” he says as he nibbles at her skin and it makes her moan, grinding her hips up against him, she wants him so bad but she still has her pants on. He sits on his knees between her spread legs and undoes the button as she lifts her hips, helping him glide them down her legs and off. He tosses them to the floor and goes right back in, gripping her by the hips he leans down and kisses her stomach… something she never thought any man would do.

He wants her just as bad as she wants him and it’s prevalent in the way his eyes are blown out as he looks up at her, pleading with his eyes, all he says is “Can I?” And she nods. He pulls her underwear down and tosses them off only to lift one and kiss from her ankle and all the way up to her knee and then he dips in closer, smothering her inner thigh with kisses and nips and then he sucks a deep purple mark into her skin, lapping over it with his tongue before blowing on it softly.

“Holy fuck,” she moans as he gets closer to her pussy and all she wants is his hands on her.

Almost like he reads her mind, he moves to the other leg and hurries along until he’s kissing right along where her underwear used to meet her thigh. Then, he spreads her pussy and licks a broad stripe along her cunt. He presses a kiss to her clit next as she bucks her hips into the sensation, “Oh my god, Spence?”

“Shh,” he whispers, looking up at her from between her legs like a man starved. “Just enjoy it, I’ve always wanted to do this.”

She’s so turned on from the teasing alone, and then he adds a finger, he gently circles it around her hole before inserting it slowly, seeing how much give she has before he takes it all. The feeling of his tongue on her is unlike anything she’s ever felt before, he’s soft yet rough and sweet yet disgusting with the noises he’s making. She can’t help reaching out and gripping his hair as her hips lift from the bed again. With only one free hand, he pushes her back down against the bed and she whines. When he adds a second finger, the stretch isn’t too much to handle, he’s so much better with his hands than she figured he’d be as he finger fucks her. His tongue on her clit and freehand trails from her hip up to grip her tit as he grinds against the mattress, he’s so into it she’s worried he might not get to really fuck her.

“Spencer,” she pants, “holy fuck Spence, please, oh my god,” she can barely make it through the sentence when his fingers curl and her legs tremble.

“Cum for me,” he growls against her and her body listens as she jolts forward and she feels the rush flow through her bloodstream.

“Oh!” she cups her breast and arches her back, oblivious to how he watches her while still lapping at her clit.

When it gets to be too much for her, she grips his hair tighter and pulls him off, “fuck me, now… please?”

“Is it an order or a suggestion,” he teases as he kisses back up her body with his glistening and wet lips, “well?”

“Please?” She looks at him with the sweetest, most fucked out expression. “That was amazing, baby.”

“Fuck,” he groans and drags himself off the bed so he can push his pants and boxers off in one fell swoop. Now, only in his mismatched socks, he doesn’t really have the time to take them off as he reaches for the abandoned box of condoms at the foot of her bed.

She watches contently as he hastily rips it open and rolls it on before he gets back on the bed. He gets right back to where he was, between her legs, he places his hands on her knees and soothes them down her inner thighs, “you sure?”

She nods, “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” he says with a deep breath, readying himself in the meantime, he grips himself at the base and pushes the head into her, inch by inch, he watches as her mouth opens in a silent gasp.

“My god…” he coos, “it’s like you were fuckin made for me.”

She’s speechless, reading out for more of him, she’s desperate for his touch. Her hands land on his hips, his skin is so soft and warm and then they’re flush together. He bottoms out and stills, he drops down so that they’re chest to chest and she cups his face instead, “Hi…”

“Hi,” he manages to laugh, holding himself up with one arm, his other hand pushes her hair back off her forehead and stays there. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she says as she pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, he collapses onto her and wraps his arm around her, angling her hips up as he starts to thrust.

The kiss gets hungrier, and they moan into each other as he picks up the pace, really fucking her just like she asked him to. She has no idea where this side of him came from but she can’t explain how much she likes it, the hand that was once in her hair is now pushed into the pillow, bracing himself as he hovers and fucks her deeply.

She absentmindedly runs her hand along his forearm and takes his hands in hers, interlocking their fingers before he holds it over her head again and fucks into her with vigour. Her legs wrap around him, every trust grinds his pubic bone against her clit and she’s still so sensitive, she’s so incredibly close that all she can do is sloppily kiss him and moan into his mouth.

His hips snap faster and faster as he fucks her and she can’t hold back anymore when she tosses her head back and sucks him in more. “Oh my god,” and “Holy fuck,” is all she can say, making him smirk.

He’s trying his hardest to keep his composure, breathing quickly, it’s the best workout he’s ever had trying to keep the pace and please her right. “I might,” he says between pants, “I might last a while… cause my meds—

“I don’t care,” she uses her free hand to cup his cheek again, “I want to stay here forever, holy shit.”

“Yeah?”

She tosses her head back again, “Oh my god, yeah!”

He just laughs and it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever heard. She’s right there at the edge when he retrieves his hand from behind her back and rubs his thumb over her clit, “you can cum, if you want.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she says, running her hand down his chest and looking between them to see what he’s doing, “I want to finish with you.”

His grip on the hand she’s holding gets tighter, he’s sweaty and losing stamina and nowhere close to being done. “Do you want to switch positions?” She asks, “It’s okay?”

“Can we?” He slows to a stop, “you’re okay with that?”

“Spence, I love you,” she reminds him, “It’s fine, it’s better than fine, actually… I’ve heard all my friends talk about dudes who last 5 seconds, this is more than I ever expected.”

“I’m just anxious, you can see why I take them,” he gets all blushy and bashful as he lets go of her hand, pulls out and sits back up on his knees.

She sits up too, taking her bra off in the process. She tosses it to the floor and his jaw drops when he sees her naked chest, “fuck..” He mumbles under his breath.

“Here, you sit up against the headboard,” she suggests, moving out of the way so he can take her place.

Once he’s settled she straddles his hips and takes his cock in her hand, angling it toward her entering as she sits upon it. Once he’s fully inside she drapes her arms around his shoulders and smiles at him, “We can do it this way… now you’ve got a face full of tits.”

His hands soothe down her bare back down to her hips, he licks his lips as he looks at them and helps her glide her body against his. “My god,” he all but moans, watching her boobs jiggle as she starts to really ride him.

“You’re so deep,” she moans, tossing her head back again to free up her neck, he pulls her in and kisses her from her shoulder up to her ear, lighting sucking at her earlobe, he brings his hand up to cup her cheek and ends up gripping her hair at the nape of her neck and pulling her to the side so he can messily smother her in kisses. “No marks, I have teenagers to teach, ‘member? They’re fucking ruthless.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, too into it to really care, his other hand reaches down to thumb at her clit, he’s getting close and she wants to finish with him.

He finally does cup her face with the hand that was just in her hair, he caresses her cheek with his thumb, pulling her back in for a kiss that’s all tongue. She moans into his mouth, running her hands down his chest, she uses his as leverage to keep pushing back before grinding down on him, he’s right against her g-spot and so fucking deep she can feel him everywhere, “Spence,” she whines, pulling back from the kiss, “are you close?”

“Uh-huh,” he pulls her back in, kissing her deeper, he wraps both his arms around her back and lifts her up, laying her back against the bed and slams his hips into hers over and over.

Her back arches again and she opens her mouth in a silent moan, it’s so good she can barely breathe. She reaches out for him, gripping his biceps, he attacks her neck again, covering her in sloppy kisses and hot breath. His pelvic bone grinds against her clit, again and again, bringing her right to the edge again until she finally peaks, moaning, she arches her back as her orgasm rushes through her but he doesn’t stop. He fucks her through it, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbles, through his last few thrusts, and then he stills with a groan, filling the condom, he drops down against her.

they’re a ball of limbs, holding each other so close she doesn’t know where she ends and he begins. He buries his face in her neck, still kissing her, she holds him tighter, “I love you so much, too, Spencer.”

taglist:

@reidsbookclub @samuel-de-champagne-problems @superskittles @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @midnightreids @ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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soobnny · 1 year

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meet odd — han jisung.

trope. acquaintances to lovers. college au. u live in the same apartment floor. fluff.

synopsis. you get to know han jisung under strange circumstances or alternatively “we live in the same floor and the room between ours always has really loud sex so now we’re both in the main lounge at 2am… do you want this last bit of ice cream?”

word count. 2.3k

warnings. mentions of sex (from the apartment neighbor), cursing

note. hello hello! another skz fic hihi send an ask if u wanna be added to my skz perma taglist :’) i hope u enjoy this silly little story

part 2

There are a lot of things you love about your apartment – the free water and electricity bill, how it's walking distance from your school, the really cold study lounge, and the cat that frequents your small balcony.

For its price, you really couldn’t ask for anything more. The cheap monthly pay goes perfectly with your very strict budget as a broke college student. So, truly, you couldn’t ask for anything more.

Actually, maybe you could.

Within all the great qualities your apartment has to offer, there lies one really, really big setback. The apartment right next to yours and your painfully thin walls. The amount of times it has fucked you up in the head after a long day of classes and exams are immeasurable.

Cue the soft banging of your head against your wall and the pillow around your ears to block out the noises, serene smiling as you greet her the next day as you walk out of the apartment together to head to your early morning classes.

The months before she moved, your apartment had been the safest haven to retreat to – where you could stare at the ceiling after a long day, finish your school work quietly before getting comfortable in your bed, and rewatch a show you’d seen a million times before sleeping to prepare for another battle in your university.

Now, your armor is faltering, and the number of hours of your sleep is decreasing gradually fast. Each night was just repetitive banging of her bed’s headboard against the wall between your apartment rooms and obnoxious moans.

You honestly wouldn’t have minded if they weren’t so fucking loud about it.

And if they didn’t go at it until the crack of dawn.

You hate to be told to be grateful. There’s a clear border for when you’re valid to feel frustration over your situation – when you’re allowed to be ungrateful for the downcast of your neighbor in your life.

Because of your predicament, you’ve found multiple alternatives to aid you in overcoming this temporary challenge. There’s a pair of noise canceling headphones on your nightstand that you begrudgingly used your savings up on to purchase, and you’d been a constant visitor in Seungmin’s dorms.

However, you can only go for so long before you start displaying lower back pains from Seungmin’s old and fucked up couch. His roommate, Jeongin, doesn’t help much either when he enjoys talking your ears off as he does anything but study for his classes.

This is what your new living situation is like. You live off Seungmin’s dying couch and the random stabs of pain on your lower back, your apartment neighbor having the time of her life, and the newly formed bags under your eyes.

You’ve definitely thought about marching up to her room and talking to her about it. But what the hell were you supposed to say? It isn’t exactly the easiest thing to confront people about their sex life.

That’s how you find yourself retreating from your apartment at the ass crack of dawn to sit at the main lounge for a bit, defeated with slumped shoulders and heavy eyes.

They can’t go on for much longer, right? You just had to wait at the main lounge for a few more minutes and you could go back to the comfort of your own bed.

“Good morning.” There’s laughter in the voice of the only other person lounging on the couches of your lobby, legs crossed with a tub of ice cream in his hands.

You recognize him as Han Jisung – the other apartment situated right next to your sex addict neighbor. You’ve only really seen him a few times, in the elevator, leaving for the gym as you come back from school, and you’ve only really shared a brief exchange of hi’s and hello’s. Seeing him in a hoodie and sweatpants with glasses on has your stomach doing a summersault.

He is so painfully handsome, jumping straight out of his hot-boy-with-humor trope.

As soon as your eyes meet, the two of you laugh so loudly and so hysterically. You just know. You know why he’s here at 2am with his tub of ice cream. He’s at the main lounge for the exact same reason you are, and something about that feels so humanizing and funny to you.

There’s a shared understanding in your crinkled eyes and cracked smiles and heavy panting from laughing too hard at your predicament. You don’t care that you look crazy with your messy hair from tossing and turning from your bed all night. Nothing looks or sounds crazy to Jisung.

He’s scooting over the couch to leave the space next to him for you, his hand dropping down to pat the spot so you can sit right next to him.

You’re quick to walk over and sit next to him, and he gives you a smile, fingers drumming over the arm of the sofa with his thigh pressed up against yours slightly that makes your heart beat erratically.

“Want some?” His round boba eyes look at yours as he nudges the tub of ice cream in front of you, twisting his body so he can face you better.

The scent of his cologne is holding you ransom.

None of this feels real, but you swear you can’t be making this shit up. You can’t be making up pretty Han Jisung with his slightly long and a bit disheveled hair and his puffed out cheeks as he chews on his ice cream.

Staring down at his offer, you go over your choices. Although, when someone offers up free ice cream at 2am when you need comfort the most, you don’t think there’s really a need to go over your invisible choices. There’s an obvious answer – the one you take as you grab a spoonful of his ice cream and stuff it in your mouth.

You close your eyes at the cold sensation, a smile creeping up on your face instantly. You’re the happiest you’ve been today already, in this moment, eating ice cream with the boy with worn out converse and the sweetest laugh.

“How have you been coping?”

Jisung knows exactly what you’re talking about, and he finds it hilarious how you’re labeling his response to your shared neighbor as ‘coping mechanisms’. His lips twitch up as he rolls his head back to rest on the cushions.

“You can only go so far with noise canceling headphones.”

“I know right!” Your face lights up as you take another spoonful of ice cream, nodding your head in agreement.

“I tried staying with a friend for a bit, but I’m tired of living off protein shakes and cuddling on the same bed. A double sized bed cannot fit me and Changbin.” He shivers as he recounts his experiences with the boy.

“Changbin as in Seo Changbin from the Music and Performing Arts department?”

“Yeah! Binnie! How do you know him?” Your question makes the smile on his face brighter.

“My friend Seungmin knows him. I’m definitely telling him you shaded his love for protein shakes and that you hate cuddling with him.”

“I don’t hate cuddling with him!” Jisung defends himself, shaking his head aggressively. “I would cuddle with him on a bigger bed.”

“Dude…” He laughs.

Something about how he has experienced the same struggles you have is a little haunting, but also comforting. To know you’re not the only one who has gone through the mockery of begging to stay at a friend’s or purchasing those stupid overpriced headphones.

“Wanna… uh, nevermind.”

“Hm?”

Jisung isn’t the most straightforward person in the world, but something about the way you’re looking at him with wide, curious eyes is intoxicating, and it gives him enough courage to continue talking.

Clearing his throat, he repeats. “Wanna go out for a bit?”

Han Jisung’s voice is very deep and very convincing at 2 in the morning.

“They’re not gonna be done soon?”

He studies your hopeful features and pats your shoulder in comfort. “I don’t wanna ruin your small ray of hope, but they were going at it until 4am last night.”

Grimacing, you drop your head in defeat. “If that’s the case, then let’s go.”

That’s how you find yourselves at a creepy, run-down convenience store near your apartment, purchasing more ice cream and looking through the stalls for anything to buy.

“Hey, Hannie!” You call out to him at the back of the store, and he comes padding over with a splash of giddiness in his heart at the nickname you give him.

His friends have called him that a million times, but it sounds different coming from you. It sounds so natural, like you were always meant to say it.

He bites down his lip to prevent himself from smiling further. His heart flutters at the possibility of you being a constant in his life. Hannie, Hannie, Hannie. It slips out of your mouth so easily that he wonders if the universe purposely gave you two that neighbor for this specific moment.

For him to meet you at the main lounge and invite you to the convenience store (and into his life in the process).

Is this what those stupid male leads feel like in those romantic comedies he binge watched with Changbin?

Jisung used to think it was absolutely ridiculous to meet someone and form an entire life with them in their head, but he finds himself doing the same in all his hypocrisy.

When he arrives to where you’re standing, he watches in amusement as you spend the next few minutes trying your hand at a run-down claw machine – desperately aiming for the pompompurin keychain.

First, you play with eyes of determination and careful movements, and then you’re smashing at the buttons in frustration.

Pretty, he thinks.

He can’t help but swoon at the sight of you with an oversized hoodie, smashing at the claw machine with your eyes half open and your lips pouted in defeat.

“Want me to try?”

You’re aware that claw machines were always faulty and deceiving, but you allow Jisung to try and win the keychain that’s probably cheaper to buy than the amount of money you’ve inserted in the coin slot to play the game.

With the plastic bag of ice cream and candy on his left hand, he uses his right hand to control the stick so he can angle the claw the way he needs it. Leaning forward, he focuses on getting the keychain you’ve been aiming for, pressing the red button after a few seconds of pushing it around.

His lips twitch in a smile when he sees the claw land exactly where he needs it to be, and he sneaks a glance at your anticipating face – heart speeding up at the sight.

“Oh my god. And you got the one I wanted?!” Jisung crouches down to grab the keychain from the prize slot before handing it to you and it immediately finds its home on the zipper of your wallet.

He has a proud smile on his face when he sees you hugging your wallet to your chest with a newfound happiness brightening your features. Even the convenience store lady is impressed at how he was able to get anything from that claw machine at all.

Maybe that’s what the graveyard shift does to you. It tires you out so much that you find someone winning at the claw machine game fun.

With an ice popsicle on your hand and your wallet with your new favorite keychain on the other, you and Jisung start to make your way back to your apartment. It was getting late, and they have to be done by now.

There’s a few moments of peace before you hear Jisung audibly trying to suppress his laughter. He’s trying not to giggle, and you know exactly why.

Your jaw drops, hitting him on his upper arm before sulking.

He doesn’t even need to tell you for you to know he’s laughing at your ice cream eating skills (your popsicle’s already melting and you’ve desperately been trying to finish it before it dissipates for the past few seconds).

There’s a taunting smile on his face as he apologizes. “I’m sorryyy.” He drawls the last syllable, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“You just look so cute.”

Something ricochets in your stomach the moment he says that, and you really hope he can’t hear your heart racing over his obnoxious giggling.

Jisung doesn’t know where he got the confidence to say that aloud. He’s also hoping the streetlights are dim enough for you not to notice the redness on the tip of his ears.

When you arrive, you immediately recognize the boy hurriedly rushing out of the apartment as your neighbor’s boyfriend. And when he speeds past the pair of you with a sheepish and shy smile on his face, you immediately make eye contact with Jisung.

Another fit of laughter breaks out.

And as you laugh and giggle over the poor boy’s obvious embarrassment, your eyes drift over towards Jisung, your newfound friend and how his eyes glint with genuine happiness and how he feels so comfortable to be with.

Similarly, Jisung finds himself mirroring your gaze. Somehow, he feels that starting today, things are definitely going to change between the two of you and the possible shift of your interactions into something more constant makes his heart flutter.

Before today, Han Jisung was just another boy who lived on the same floor as you, who you shared a few small pleasantries with. However, as the pair of you walk back to your rooms with your plastic bags of popsicle and candy wrappers and the hint of laughter still bubbling in your throats, you can tell that this moment right now with him feels like the beginning of something wonderful.

You hate to be told to be grateful, but in the stupidity of your own reflection, you are. For what – you’re starting to think it has something to do with the boy next to you.

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wendynerdwrites · 2 months

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A Measured Response: A Measured Response

Above please find the video I'm responding to, "A Measured Response" by James Somerton. If he deletes later (and I suspect he may), I will reblog with an embed of a copy of the video.

Also note: Much of this is taken from comments I made on his video. But I believe he may be deleting them. Or I got caught up in the spam filter because I commented more than once out of sheer frustration with what I was hearing.

James,

Okay, I am going to start off with a couple things I will give you credit for:

1) Acknowledging the shitty effect nuking your channel had on Nick's career and prospects. That's actually something that hasn't been discussed much and it is genuinely good of you to volunteer that to your audience. As someone who once had her own portfolio nuked by former partners, that's a good thing to bring up. No notes there. That was a good move.

2) You actually used the word 'plagiarism' this time.

I would also like to say that I am glad that you are safe and I am glad you are still alive.

I'm hearing lots about insurance, and your mental health struggles, and the move YOU chose to make "disrupting everything" and your mom's death, "not citing things correctly", how ADHD apparently made you plagiarize, and how hard things are for you. And how people harassed and doxxed you. How you totally want to prove yourself!

Here's what I'm not hearing about:

1) The harassment campaign you launched against your accusers that literally caused them to go into hiding. Sorry, but you don't get sympathy points about death threats and doxing without at least expressing remorse when you did that to others. You haven't mentioned it once. you also falsely accused OTHERS of sending harassment your way and have not acknowledged it.

2) The multiple transphobic and misogynistic lies you told.

3) The tangible impact of queer erasure YOU ENGAGED IN. You barely mention any of the people you stole from. Believe it or not, James, but those people? They also had lives, and jobs, and obligations. Some of them also had dead parents. Then there are the queer people you erased the identities of, slandered, and insulted. Becky Abertelli had to deal with YEARS of the same sort of harassment you're complaining about because of people calling her straight. And even after she was FORCED OUT OF THE CLOSET, you perpetuated that lie again. And yes, YOU DID, JAMES. PUTTING HER IN THE 'STRAIGHT AUTHORS' CATEGORY IS CALLING HER STRAIGHT, JAMES. THAT'S HOW CATEGORIES WORK. Then when she briefly corrected you, you lied about her repeatedly and inserted nasty little vague comments about her so that you could bait your audience into asking about it and claim she harassed you on twitter for not liking her show (which never happened once. She didnt even bring up you straight-washing her on twitter. It was in your comments section.). So not only did you lie, you went out of your way to create opportunities to lie about her more.

4) The outright dangerous rhetoric you engaged in. Such as:

a) You lied about the AIDS epidemic and generations of actual queer activists who you claimed didn't care about employment discrimination and just wanted to have "big gay weddings" because they were "boring. This is a false and dangerous retelling of queer history, not only isolating new generations of queer people, but also erasing the tangible benefits of the legal benefits you enjoy now, James. THEY WANTED MARRIAGE SO THEY COULD HOLD THEIR DYING LOVERS' HANDS AS THEY PASSED AND ATTEND THEIR FUNERALS, JAMES. THEY WANTED MARRIAGE SO THEY WEREN'T KICKED OUT OF THEIR HOMES AND STRIPPED OF BENEFITS DURING A HEALTH PANDEMIC, JAMES. THEY DID FIGHT FOR EMPLOYMENT RIGHTS, JAMES. THAT'S HOW SEXUALITY BECAME A PROTECTED CLASS. Lying about and downplaying the legal rights these valiant "boring" people fought for misleads current generations of queer people into caring less about their history, the people who have done the most for them, and protecting the legal rights so desperately won.

b) All the gay Nazi shit. I feel like I shouldn't have to explain why inventing facts about all the Nazi secret police and youth counselors being gay and extorting people for sex under the Reich is so insanely dangerous and disgusting, but here's a hint: it casts your own community as being the vile, perverted criminals that THE ACTUAL PEOPLE WHO WANT YOU DEAD (you know, homophobes? Not people on the internet who noticed you plagiarized the Celluloid Closet) perpetuate in order to sell their draconian policies to the masses.

c) all the misogyny. I get it, you want to erase the discrimination against women (and people you claim are women) have faced, especially as queer women. You wanted to pretend Radcliffe Hall was allowed to "carry on with her happy little life." You wanted your audience to believe that. You wanted your audience to shit on women for moral panics you made up. You wanted to erase the queer identity of a woman who had already been through Hell and then pass it off as justified. With the rising tied of renewed misogyny,, incel attacks, and reproductive rights being stripped from us, you really, really wanted to sell the message of women being whiny, jealous bitches who get handed everything, never deal with consequences, and hate people for not liking their work. (TBH, it feels a bit like projection on your part) thank you for spreading so much incel rhetoric and transphobia and making your audience ignorant of the great contributions women have made to LGBTQIA history.

I'd respect you more if you would just own up to the obvious biases you clearly have.

That's not all, but my hands are getting tired.

5) That you were caught lying about the contents of Hbomb's video in your initial patreon response.

6) The worth of the people you stole from.

7) Using Nick's asexuality as an excuse for your acephobic AF bullshit about how ace people apparently never dealt with institutional oppression when they're the most likely to be sent to conversion camp and have had corrective rape used as a "treatment" throughout history. Like, holy shit, James.

8) How you tried to lay blame for your shitty, stolen work on your own audience because "you didn't wanrt to make them and they were patreon requests." You didn't have to keep video requests as a perk. Those people paid over $300 to you for those wids only for you to throw them under the bus.

9) Your complete refusal to update your Telos backers on anything besides announcing new projects that you were using to replace the projects you promised them. You could have gone on Patreon, Indiegogo, Twitter, or your channel, and explained things. Things like this happen. But instead you ghosted and gaslighted.

10) The shit you pulled about Nebula.

11) The shitsquillion dollars you spent on cameras you didn't need when you were also claiming to your patrons about being on the verge of homelessness.

"It's a documentary, no opinion just cited facts." James, you've cited "facts" like "15% of the Hitler Youth counselors were gay", "Radcliffe Hall didn't get punished for writing a book about lesbians", and "there was no fight against employment discrimination" as "facts."

Then there's the part where you're still insisting that the people who told you that you can't make a short film on 3K were wrong. You insist it's possible because you intended to use non-union labor. then two minutes later you admit a movie you put together ended up going way over-budget because you didn't realize how much things would cost.

So the Telos nay-sayers had a point, James. Why are you still acting like they were wrong. Do you just not want anyone to find Dan Olsen's tweets about your finances?

The fact that you think you have any business coming back when all you've ever managed are lies and theft is so hilariously conceited. I get it. You want to be able to "carry on with your happy little life" (the way Radcliffe Hall DIDN'T). You want to go back to being a big youtuber and for everyone to admire you once you manage to go a whole video without stealing from anyone. That's not how this works. You have no credibility. You have caused a huge amount of damage not just to your immediate audience, but also the queer community overall.

You hurt a lot more people than Jessie Gender, James.

"We weren't trying to lie about things." BULL FUCKING SHIT. YOU NOT ONLY LIED ABOUT BECKY ALBERTALLI MULTIPLE TIMES. YOU EVEN MADE AN INDIRECT DIG AT HER SO YOUR AUDIENCE WOULD ASK ABOUT IT SO YOU COULD LIE ABOUT YOUR INTERACTIONS WITH HER AS WELL. YOU LIED ABOUT WHO ACTUALLY WROTE YOUR VIDEOS. YOU LIED ABOUT YOUR CREDITS. YOU LIED ON PURPOSE. AND YOU LIED IN WAYS THAT HURT PEOPLE.

You also lie in your video saying "in the beginning, I thought it was enough to put people's names in the opening credits." No you didn't. You started using those opening credits well after the accusations came rolling in. You even admitted on twitter that in the beginning you weren't "citing my sources yet."

Do I believe much of your bullshit was pure laziness? Certainly. But there can be more than one reason for it. There's no way you knew who Radcliffe Hall was and actually thought she face no repercussions. No one who has ever heard of The Well of Loneliness DOESN'T know all the prints were destroyed. It being a lesbian book that was destroyed by the courts is THE STORY.

You lied when you said you didn't call Becky Albertalli straight. EVEN THOUGH YOU ADMIT TO PUTTING HER IN THE STRAIGHT CATEGORY.

You lied about your "adaptation" of Evil Queens and tinker Bells and the citation and schedule of when you got approval. You got approval after the fact and claiming you got it from the beginning. your own email screenshot proves it.

You lied saying the Evil Queens video was "a direct adaptation of the books" despite half the video being plagiarized from completely different works. You lied about your plagiarism accusations and HBomb's video rehashing old "debunked" accusations on Patreon. You lied about Alexander Avila. You lied about reading/watching a bunch of the media you were "critiquing." you lied about when you started with your opening credits.

These were ALL LIES YOU TOLD ON PURPOSE.

You don't "research", "write", shoot, edit, and post a video with shit like that in it and say it wasn't malicious or intentional. You put these videos out there with scores of lies, many of which were directed at various marginalized groups, and CHOSE to never check if anything you said was true. You don't invent entire fake moral panics "by accident." You don't plagiarize by accident.

Please don't spend forty minutes reciting excuses and then claim "these are not excuses." You're not fooling us.

Also - Leave your poor mother out of this. She already had to die of cancer. Let the poor woman rest.

But thank you for linking your new patreon and telling us all about your upcoming videos! I am glad you have your priorities straight. (that was sarcasm)

Just leave the internet, James. Not LIFE, OBVIOUSLY. Stay alive. But your time as a content creator is done. You have no viability in that area. The fact that you think you can just do this is equal parts entitled and delusional. That you think you can come back so soon makes it even worse. Tell you what: you can try again after it's verified that the people you stole from have been compensated and you properly apologize for everything else.

I will not believe you're truly sorry until you can actually apologize without caveats, excuses, and, yes, lies. Saying you're sorry for "not citing things correctly" is not apologizing for what you did. It's cushioning the actual facts and downplaying your transgression. You have not apologized for the misogyny, acephobia, or transphobia, which, yes, YOU DID. I don't care if you want to claim it wasn't intentional YOU STILL DID IT. You haven't apologized for harassing and slandering your critics.

So no, James, I don't really believe you're sorry. I think you're sorry this blew up and that you have to make a new patreon. I don't trust that you won't continue being misogynistic. I don't trust that if you ever see this comment, that you will actually read it instead of crying homophobia and cancel culture and "wanting you dead."

Admit that you harassed people and that it was awful. Admit the extent. Admit you lied about Becky Albertalli and apologize to her. Admit that, yes, YOU HAVE SOME REAL ISSUES WITH WOMEN and that you are ready to confront them.

I don't trust you to do the right thing here. But maybe this comment will be read by someone who might have otherwise fallen for this and it'll be easier for them to see through manipulation like this in the future.

Just log off, Bro.

#james somerton #response #plagiarism

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wannabeschyulersister · 2 years

Text

it’s you and me

Steve was mad at you. Scratch that. Steve was absolutely furious at you. You’d never seen your boyfriend so upset in the last two and a half years of dating him.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” He shouted.

“I was thinking that some creature dragged my boyfriend into the depths of Lovers Lake and I needed to go and save him!”

Steve shook his head, “You didn’t have to do that! I told you to stay on the damn boat and you didn’t listen.”

“You’re being ridiculous right now.”

“Yeah, well you’re being reckless! Look at the situation we are in!” He waved his arm around at the scene in front of you.

The Upside Down and its occupying creatures had been this looming threat to you and your friends for years. Now, you were actually in it. It gave you the creepiest vibes.

Eddie, Steve, Robin and yourself had found a small safe refuge under Skull Rock. When Steve got pulled into the lake, you didn’t even hesitate for a second. You dove after him and watched and he got dragged into the Upside Down. Eddie and Robin followed you.

“What was I supposed to do, Steve?“ you shouted.

“You were supposed to stay on the damn boat, (Y/n)!” He repeated.

Eddie decided to step in between you and Steve, “I normally enjoy watching a couple’s quarrel but I don’t think this is a good time.”

“Yeah, guys. We can do this later.” Robin felt extremely awkward watching her two best friends fight in front of her. Almost always, she had something humorous to say to ease the tension. This time she had nothing.

You moved around Eddie so that you were face to face with Steve again, “Why are you being such an asshole?”

“Because you’re being so stubborn and not listening to me!”

“I didn’t want anything to happen to you so I did what I thought was best!”

“And if something happens to you because you’re trying to save me?” Steve asked sternly.

“Then something happens. You expect for me to not do everything in my power to rescue you?” You questioned.

“Yeah, I do, because I can’t lose you!” You could swear that you saw Steve’s eyes get glassy with tears, “When Nancy dumped me, that was really bad, but I bounced back. I met you and it was like everything in my life suddenly made sense. If something happened to you, it would ruin me.”

Seeing Steve so upset literally tore your heart into a million pieces. You moved towards him and wrapped your arms around him being mindful of the injuries he just sustained by those freaky bats. He instantly hugged you back, resting his head on top of yours.

You weren’t angry anymore in the slightest now that you understood why he was upset. “Steve, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. I just can’t lose the one person who means the world to me. I don’t know what we’re going to be facing here but I just need you safe and sound.”

“I need you safe too, Steve. I couldn’t just wait on the boat. I had to come and help you. If I didn’t, you’d be gone right now and not in my arms.”

“I know that.” He rubbed your back soothingly like he always did when you embraced.

“I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. I need you here with me just as much.” You looked up at him. His lips were already so close to yours.

“It’s you and me.” It was a promise that he said from the beginning of your relationship. The two of you against the world. In that situation, the two of you against the Upside Down.

“It’s you and me.” You repeated before he pressed his lips against yours.

In that moment, you felt safe despite everything that was going on. With Steve you always felt safe. You knew that he would defend you with his life. He might hate it, but he knew that you’d do the same for him as well.

The kiss came to an abrupt end when Eddie cleared his throat, “I’d honestly rather the two of you fight instead of this.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #steve harrington

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nnight-dances · 4 months

Text

SWEET BOY

PAIRING: lee seokmin x f!reader (ft. choi vernon)

GENRE: fluff, angst

TROPES: older brother figure to lover, childhood friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, jealousy, skinship, dk being a blushy idiot and you being a plain idiot.

lines are funny when it comes to your life. lines drawn from one point to another, lines forced to keep your work life and your personal life, but most important the big daunting line between you and your crush of nearly two years now, dokyeom.

it's funny, it really is, given how much time you've spent riling yourself up over him, telling yourself that he should retain the role he always had in your life: the older brother figure. because dokyeom's heart-warmingly kind, no even more so– blood-curdingly kind, painfully nice to everyone he meets, patient beyond imagination. he's worse than any nice guys you've met, simply because he fits the archetype too well to be real.

"don't you get tired?" you ask him, when he shows up at your door, clutching bags of take-out food, no doubt after hearing from your mom how you haven't had a chance to eat. yet, you'd emphasized to her after you'd made the mistake of letting her know you were too busy to cook.

"shouldn't i be asking you that?" dokyeom grunts as he lets himself into your house, familiar with the place like the back of his hand. "i know mr. ko called you in and gave you an earful for missing the last deadline, but that's no excuse to skip meals."

okay, worth mentioning is the fact that while you knew dokyeom since childhood thanks to the fact that you grew up in the same household, you'd also ended up moving to the city to sign a contract with the publishing company where he worked at, as an editor. it was half a coincidence, because you can't say you sought out the company simply on its merits.

you sigh as you stretch out a crick in your neck, "i'm not doing this because mr. ko told me to. i'm fine, i'm just trying to clear up my schedule before the end of the year. god knows i don't want to be working on new year's eve."

"and you won't," dokyeom takes off his coat, revealing a light blue sweater underneath, one that you've grown fond of. it's a sweet sweater, for a sweet man.

"well, thanks, anyway. for the food. sorry if my mom pestered you into doing this."

"i don't want to hear a word out of you till you've eaten."

you obey him silently, taking out the lukewarm bánh mì from its bag and starting to eat. dokyeom watches with a slight smile, noting how your hair was in a ponytail, a rare occurrence. just another indication that you were forcing yourself to work too hard.

"what am i going to with you…" he muses to himself, slowly tidying up the mess on your writing corner. the little wooden table you'd spent hours studying and testing before buying, is crowded with stationery and a few notebooks. your laptop sits blank, screen indicating that it was close to dying. dokyeom brushes off the stray balls of napkins off and into the small trashcan next to the chair, followed by all the tiny eraser dust particles. he's just plugged in your laptop when he hears you call out his name softly.

"hmm?" he calls back. "you want some coffee?" you ask and when dokyeom arches a brow at you, you wave your empty hands, "i'm done eating! can a girl not want a warm liquid post-meal?"

"fine, fine. i'll have some, thanks." he laughs as you glare at him, mumbling incoherencies about him.

"oh, right, i almost forgot to tell you," dokyeom pulls out his phone, ten minutes later when the two of you are settled on the couch, waiting for your steaming mugs to settle down a little. "there's a department-wide party this sunday, an end of year gathering or something. you should come, i hear the budget this year's crazy. it's at a fancy hotel and everything."

you narrow your eyes at dokyeom, "i don't know about that. work parties are a slog, dude. i can't stand to get drunk with the people who literally torture the creativity out of me."

"that's harsh, y/n. and an exaggeration."

"whatever…" you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweatshirt, "i… i don't even have a date. it's kind of a short notice to find someone anyway–"

"i'll be your date," dokyeom offers, faster than either of you could comprehend his response. his ears flush, "um, i mean, i'll go with you, if you don't… mind."

"why would i mind? i just thought you'd have someone to go with already," you say and when you catch the shy look on your friend's face, "unless of course, nobody's asked you. which i totally understand."

"hey! i don't want to take names but i've had to tell some people no already. so don't–"

"oh? so you rejected the people who did ask you? i thought you were too nice to do that. "

"yeah, i did. i didn't want to go with them. i don't know them well enough to guarantee they'll be fun for the entire night. plus, it's messy going with someone from work. you agree once, who's to say they'll keep asking you for life?"

"i'm someone from work, too," you point out, averting your gaze to the coffee, watching the evaporation swirl around.

"you're different, silly," dokyeom chuckles out, arm hitting yours, "we're already messy. i knew you before work, and i'll know you long after. we're more than that, you know?"

that? whatever he meant, you find your heart soaring ever so much, "hm, i suppose you're not wrong. fine, i'll come to the party." if it's with you.

that night you find yourself obsessing over this conversation. what did dk mean we're already messy? you were messy? you knew he didn't mean that like a bad thing but the word unsettled you anyway. your feelings for him only made it harder to listen to him objectively, especially when he says stuff like we're more than that. more than what, exactly?

–

dokyeom's having a hell of a day, carrying around a headache he's had since this morning and a heavy to-do list that doesn't seem to be going anywhere despite the fact that he's been at his desk for about five hours now. he sits back with a grunt, taking his eyes off his screen for a moment to take a break.

as soon as he tunes back into the physical world around him, he overhears his coworkers chatting near his desk, instant coffeee in hand.

"yo, you're kidding! how'd you get her number finally?" ren, a newbie, elbows the man next to him. vernon, the man in question, is grinning too wide for his own good.

"i just asked her for it. i told her i had some important doubts about her new manuscript."

"that didn't annoy her?"

"nah, y/n's chill like that. she was super nice about it, too, telling me she would love to hear from me."

ren gasps dramatically, "no way, do you think she–"

dokyeom clears his throat with a start, having had enough as an eavesdropper for the day. he stands up, making eye-contact with vernon who shoots him a nonchalant smile. it pisses dokyeom off, how wasn't he bothered?

his headache's only getting worse so he decides to get himself something to eat while he's at it. some fresh air might help him. he shoots the pair a stiff smile as he leaves the office, hand clutching his phone a little too hard. as he gets into the elevator, he's alerted of a message.

speak of the devil, he thinks when your name pops up on his screen. am i expected to dress formal for this party? you ask.

only if u want to :) he shoots back.

… what kind of an answer is that.

an honest one. expectations are only as high as you want them to be.

you know i hate you right

enough to ask me to be ur date? <3 <3

you're befuddled on the other side of the chat, "who asked who?" you mumble, choosing to not respond to dokyeom's frustrating reply to your very genuine question.

dokyeom, on the other hand, is feeling much better now that he's had a chance to talk to you. where you're reserved about your feelings for him, dokyeom really couldn't be more transparent about them. or so he thinks. but really, he's convinced he couldn't be clearer about how he feels about you– instantaneous responses to your texts, making sure you eat on time, corresponding with your mom to reassure her of your good health, careful attention to what you're into at the time so he can buy you the things you refuse to splurge on.

to dokyeom, this was the clearest confession of his love for you. the only reason he hasn't vocalized it in person is because he doubts any good would come out of it. he's more than happy with the relationship he has with you, a safe enough distance but a warm closeness anyway. besides, he's pretty certain you think of him as more of a brother than anything. an older brother figure you've known since you were children. better to keep things the way they were. right?

–

dokyeom's increasily unsure about his convictions to keep things the same. maybe it had something to do with the fact that you look breathtaking tonight. you're adorned in the prettiest pink dress, eyes sparkling more than usual thanks to the glitter you'd dabbed on and hair cascading down to your shoulders in curls that has him a little weak in the knees.

he does visibly gape at you when you greet him at the door with a small smile. he's flustered enough to be out of words so you're left speaking to a shell of him. "hey, you're a little earlier than i imagined. i'm almost ready. come in though."

when he stands still despite your invitation, you frown. "dokyeom?" he bites his lip as he comes to and nods, walking in after you. "you good?"

"yeah, just a little nervous."

"nervous?"

"you look really pretty," he musters, reddening when your eyes widen at his honest confession, "i'm a little dizzy." the two statements are correlated but you don't pick up on that, instead becomes concerned. you take his arm and your cold touch on his arm only sends him further down his dazed condition.

"dizzy? that's no good. come sit," you pull him to the couch, making him take a seat. god, dokyeom thinks he's dreaming when you touch his cheek, "do you need medicine? warm tea? water?"

he clears his throat, "n-no, i'm fine," he lets himself fall against the cushions, closing his eyes against the rush in his veins. "just– you should go get ready. i'll be back to normal soon."

you look at him in confusion for a prolonged few seconds before giving up and doing as he said. when you come back, you have a lip gloss and heels on. "okay," you announce to the back of dokyeom's head, "i'm ready, dk."

he sits up quickly, head clearing up now. he turns around to you and smiles a cheerful smile that is much more like him. "alright! let's go!"

you watch him warily anyway, all the way to his car. "ah, your hair–" you reach out to the back of his head where some hair stuck out from his earlier meltdown. gently, you brush the disturbances away, fingers swift in their adminstrations. dokyeom thinks he might break down again, the gesture making him feel giddy all over again. it doesn't help when he feels your warm breath on his neck when you sigh, returning to your seat. "ok, no more hair casualities, we are set to go."

dokyeom can't afford to look up at you so he simply starts the car, keeping his head straight so he can drive the both of you to the venue safely.

being in a room bustling with people he knows really helps dokyeom, for as soon as you reach the hall, he takes off in a rush, something about having to greet everyone that's important. you don't know to feel about his flight but you manage to shrug it off, trusting him enough to know he'll be back before long.

you station yourself near the refreshments, finding yourself a flute of champagne and some hors d'oeuvres to keep you company while dokyeom does what he does. you find yourself mildly enjoying yourself, people-watching all sorts of groups and downing your second serving of champagne, when you're joined by someone.

it's kitty, a coworker you're less than fond of, thanks to her loud mouth and overwhelming beauty. she's dressed in an immaculate white dress, face glowing even in the harsh light as she smiles at you. "y/n!"

"kitty," you acknowledge her with a cordial nod of your own, hoping this wouldn't take too long.

"how've you been? you look much better than the last time i saw, so not too bad i hope!"

your smile sours, "i'm fine, kitty. nice to see you're feeling as chatty as usual."

"i am! what better ocassion than a party to be social," she remarks pointedly and you contain a sigh. kitty was an important coworker, unfortunately for you, with her in charge for your public image and general likeability. it really should be criminal how little she likes you for someone who has to make sure you appeal to the masses.

"i didn't even think i'd see you around. you have a date?"

"i'm here with dokyeom, yeah."

this seems to startle kitty, because she's speechless for a moment. "dokyeom? he said yes to you?"

ignoring whatever undertones of disbelief kitty's giving off, you roll your eyes, "it was more that he forced me to come with him, but yeah, sure, however you wanna say it."

"wow, dokyeom's really kind to do that. he even turned me down. he must really treasure your friendship."

now you've had enough of her insinuations, so you cut the chat short. "sorry, kitty, i need to use the bathroom. excuse me."

you break away from her, feeling the weight of her glare at your aloofness. you really don't care for her snarky remarks usual, long-accustomed to the kind of gossip she likes to generate. but tonight, your tolerance was low. you didn't want to think about why dokyeom asked you to come to the party, and you certainly didn't want kitty's suggestions marinate in your mind. but it's too late, you feel your chest tighten at the thought of dokyeom feeling pity for you, asking you to come because that's just how kind he was, and you, his best charity case.

dokyeom spots you from across the room where he's eventually recovered from his weak condition. he feels guilt spike through his veins when he sees you storm away from kitty, who's no doubt spewed some obnoxious nonsense to make you leave the room with that tense expression of yours.

he excuses himself from his conversation to run off after you, managing to catch you as you leave the hall.

"y/n!" he calls out, catching ahold of your shoulder. "where are you going?"

you stop, startled by dokyeom's interception. you slowly turn around, trying your best to neutralize your expression. "um, just using the bathroom. i drank that champagne a little too fast."

"oh, you sure you're okay? i saw you talking to kitty earlier and i know how frustrating she can be."

you laugh mirthlessly, "i'll be okay as long as i don't run into her in the next five months or so." you turn away, presumably toward the washroom. you'd hoped your explanation would be enough to soothe dokyeom's curiosity but then you hear him follow after you.

"dk?"

"i'll go with you."

"to the washroom?"

"uh, yeah. i'll walk you in case you can't find your way back."

"they have signs everywhere and the party's in the biggest hall here– i– whatever, i need to pee too bad to argue with you right now."

from thereon, dokyeom doesn't leave your side for a second. you don't know what to think of it but you don't complain because your mood's much better when you spend your time by his side, shitting on the ocassional passerby and laughing at each other's jokes.

dokyeom regrets leaving you by yourself in the first place, especially because he's almost too certain that kitty had told you he'd turned her invitation down. it was awkward to even look at her, let alone talk to her. but then again, she's never been one to care about other people's comfort because about halfway into the night, you spot her trailing back to your table with a few people following her.

the group crowds your table and you find yourself pressed against a stranger who no doubt works with kitty. he shoots you a sleazy smile and you're grateful when you feel dokyeom subtly pull you closer toward him with a hand around your waist. what you don't expect is him to leave him arm there, draped down your back, finger resting against the small of lower back, sending chills up your spine.

"hey, you two! what're you upto, you've been stuck to this table for the entire night," kitty laughs.

dokyeom notices vernon among the group, much to his chagrin, smiling at you boyishly. you wave back at vernon with a soft chuckle, thankful that not everyone in this crowd was a snoozefest.

"just talking," is dokyeom's curt response. "are y'all enjoying the party?" he adresses the larger group, making it a point to not look at kitty.

"i wish there was more real food," someones pipes in with a grunt and people laugh in agreement.

"the wine's really good though. expensive stuff," vernon points out, looking at the wine glass propped between you and dokyeom.

"yeah, it's maybe the best thing about this party," you chime in with a smile. before dokyeom can somehow bring up the fact that he'd been drinking out of the same glass as you, ren gasps out loud, "oh my god, guys, the mistletoe man's back!"

you look around in confusion and find a man dressed in green overalls walking around with some mistletoe stuck his chest, neatly tied with a red ribbon stuck to his chest. "the fuck?" you mumble out and dokyeom laughs at your bewilderment. "it's a stupid tradition," dokyeom says softly to you, "heard someone say it's to foster closer connections between workers."

"by forcing them to kiss?" you whisper back with a grimace as you watch a pair break away from their kiss with bitter expressions. it's fine though because they look at each other's disgust and break into laughter, their table cheering them on.

"i think it's cute!" kitty remarks, watching the man as he turns around from a few tables over.

"shit, i think he's coming over here," ren curses. "why's that a bad thing?" kitty questions, smiling, eyes glued to the side of dokyeom's face. you might gouge your eyes out one of these days. you're too busy ignoring the ruckus kitty's causing with her frantic giggles as the mistetoe man approaches her. but then he goes past her and she goes silent, eyes coming to still behind you. that's when you realize the mistletoe man's standing square between you and dokyeom.

you turn around to the man with wide eyes but he simply smiles, "the mistletoe man knows when he sees two lovers!" you don't know what he means till you become aware of dokyeom's arm around you. he pulls away in surprise and his face is red when you look up at dokyeom.

"this is stupid," you murmur, hoping he'll agree and you wouldn't have to participate in this tradition.

"kiss! kiss! kiss!" ren starts a chant and everyone but kitty and vernon is quick to join in. dokyeom looks bewildered at the unison, and he looks at you, then down at your lips. "we don't have to do this," he comforts you.

"do you want to?" you ask him under your breath. you feel yourself flushing.

"i'll do it if you want to."

you hate how agreeable dokyeom is sometimes, wishing he would decide for you, for this once. you don't want to think about all the eyes on you, the whispering that's no doubt been reignited. everyone knows you and dokyeom have been friends and maybe something more for years now, but to witness conclusive proof is thrilling to them.

you feel frozen with the weight of the decision upon you. but then kitty opens her stupid mouth, "ah, dokyeomie, you don't have to do something you don't want to–"

that spurs you on, you find yourself pressing yourself against dokyeom, raising yourself to his height so you can press your lips to his. he meets you halfway, as if he'd been waiting for you to do exactly this, his large hand finding your cheek so he can seal the deal.

this goes without saying, you've never kissed dokyeom before, but the way it feels so natural has you questioning if this really was the first time. his lips are pillowy against yourself, his breath hitting your face sweetly when you finally pull away. his eyes are hooded like you've never seen them and you really wish you could memorize this feeling, ingrain it into your mind for later.

but the moment breaks when you hear the table around you erupt with all kinds of reactions. you don't care to look though, too busy with your own reaction to handle. your heart's fluttering but your eyes feel watery when you pull away from dokyeom. you don't know what to think of all the lines you've been worrying about, the line between you and dokyeom cracking the moment you leaned into his lips.

–

dokyeom's scared for his life right now. after the chaos around you settled a little, you'd looked at him and quietly asked if he could drive you home right now. he'd been quick to agree, following you out of the door without bidding anyone goodbye. but you're silent the entire walk to his car, not answering him when he asks if you're okay.

now that you're settled in the car, he pauses before starting the engine. "y/n," he starts softly. you focus on your breathing, staring down at your hands blankly. "i'm sorry."

this makes you look up at him, mouth slightly ajar. "...why are you sorry?" you ask quietly, lips set in a narrow line.

"i– that must have made you uncomfortable. i didn't know what else to–"

"i was the one who kissed you," you comment, looking away and out the window, hands now fists in your lap. dokyeom watches as you tuck some stray strands of hair behind your ear, "i should be sorry."

should be, because you weren't a bit sorry about the kiss. the circumstances that caused it? sure. but the kiss itself wasn't something you would undo.

dokyeom doesn't know what to say because there's so much to say. where does he even start? "i thought you always saw me as a… brother."

"what?" your eyes hold a sea of disbelief in them but then as you blink back at a solemn dokyeom, you think it's not that crazy for him to think that after all. "well, i used to. how could i not? mom had drilled it into my system to rely on you like you were family."

dokyeom hums, "...and?"

"i mean, i clearly don't think… i don't have the feelings of a sister toward you," you mumble, your cheeks on fire when you hear your poor phrasing. "if i did, it would be a problem that i wanted to kiss back there."

"you did?" dokyeom gapes and you look at him with a slight tilt of your head. "i– obviously!" you tell him.

he swallows, "wow. i don't even know what to think–" it's his turn to look at his hands that are trembling, "honest to god, i've never harboured anything but romantic feelings for you, y/n." he says this, head lowered as if in shame, ears revealing how embarassed he was. "i love your mother, but i swear she wanted to kill me the way she encouraged you to call me your brother when you were out with me."

you grimace, holding back a chuckle, "i'm sorry…"

"don't be," dokyeom sounds truly defeated, as if the work of hiding his feelings from you had finally caught up with him. "i'm sorry i didn't make myself clearer sooner. never imagined we'd talk about this because we got bullied into our first kiss."

you sigh, nodding as you mutter an agreement. dokyeom rises from his slouch slowly, coming to lock eyes with you. one of his hands comes to rest atop your own fist, prying it open so that you were holding his. you feel warm beyond imagination, feeling like you might burst open with the intensity of your feelings for dokyeom, wondering how you'd ever managed to keep them secret.

"can…" you stop, voice hoarse, licking your lips nervously, "will you kiss me? for real this time?"

it doesn't take dokyeom a moment's hesitation to close the distance betwen you, his soft lips back on yours, not soon enough for you to get used to the gentle saccharine daze that overcame you. your unoccupied hand card through his hair, similar to a few hours ago when you'd been fixing it, but this time dokyeom lets out the mewl he'd been contatining last time.

he pulls away with a somewhat grunt, eyes starry, "there's no way you didn't know what your were doing." you look back at him, a little breathless with a look of complete confusion.

he sighs, giving in and rest his head against yours, "when you were fixing my hair earlier, i thought i'd die of a heart attack. finally give up and move on from you, if only in death."

"don't say that, dk," you scold him, hands around him in concern, "and i don't understand why– i mean i feel like we've touched… in other ways before so–"

"i don't know either!" he exclaims, "i just– you looked so fucking gorgeous tonight and then you kept being oblivious to how obviously down bad i am for you– i just couldn't."

"hey, you weren't obvious if i didn't know! that's unfair…" you mumble, looking away with flushed cheeks. it didn't make sense to you. but dokyeom simply laughs into your shoulder, pulling you into a hug, not much of a change for your dynamic. you'd hugged dokyeom countless times before but now you feel unimaginably closer to him, like you were actually holding him, the entirety of him in your arms. it was incredible, the warmth that blossomed inside you in the silence that surrounded you. it was love.

love shows up even in the early mornings when you're with dokyeom. he'd slept over after your date last night, when you'd insisted you would be too lonely to sleep if he promptly took off (like a gentleman, he commented). you'd laid in bed till 2 am, kissing and talking the night away, his hands finding their indents underneath your worn-out tee.

you wake up to his nose snuggled in your neck, breathing softly in slumber, hair sticking out every which way. you can't help the loving giggle that leaves you, making him stir in his sleep, arm coming to sit atop your bare stomach.

"sweet boy," you mumble, placing a kiss atop his forehead and watching in awe as his brown eyes come to life at the action. "you awake?" you jokingly ask but dokyeom responds with a groggy grunt, smiling with fluttering eyes.

you run a finger through his hair. he groans, "don't wake up yet." you laugh, stroking a strand behind his ear, "but i'm already–"

he cuts you off with a pout, "no, don't wake up, love. please, want to sleep some more."

you sigh and shift impossibly closer to him. "all right, then. can't argue with that logic."

with that, you doze off again. how you manage to fall right back asleep is beyond you, though it might have something to do with the fact that dokyeom's presence brings you a serenity you didn't know you could feel, a feeling that's better than the soft comforter that he himself had picked out for your bed. his arms hold you close, the sweetness melting your heart the whole time you dream, dreaming of dokyeom and of love.

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running-with-kn1ves · 2 months

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🧎‍♀️more edira????? in evil old lesbian office worker we trust 🙏

how about a honeymoon-esque vacation scenario??? I am dying to see more of casual edira, the way she was in that last drabble ahgdgshababnabab

ur writing is just so good 💝

A/N: This is so kind! I was really surprised that Edira kept showing up in my inbox but I can't complain! I didn't want to jump to honeymoon just yet so here's a little vacation/beach episode :D

CW: blackmail/forced relationship, power imbalance, edira grabbing reader’s butt, overall possessive red flags --WC:2300

Synopsis: vacay with your powertrip of a girlfriend Edira! But her workaholic tendencies are hard to escape.

Taking “official” photos was always a humbling experience. You looked down at your passport ID for the hundredth time, grimacing at how dead you looked in the grainy picture.

“It’s not that bad. And see, the light hit your eyes perfectly,” Edira promised, but it didn’t fix the frown on your face as you focused on each blemish and pore that was exacerbated tenfold in the tiny image that represented who you were across country lines.

“Easy for you to say, you look the same as you did in your headshots on the branch website..”

You looked at her from the bed, watching the back of her sandy grey-blonde head shake with a sigh. The business woman rapidly typed away on her glowing laptop, seemingly irritated by the crashing waves outside the open sliding doors.

“Well, if you really want we can get it taken again, when I put my last name on there too.”

At that, you were quiet. Moving in together, and now vacations across boarders…. Her reference to marriage shouldn’t have been shocking, but it put all other thoughts in your brain to a stop. You didn’t really want to marry her, did you? Your blackmailing boss who was more like a war general than a tender lover, one who daydreamed about bending you over her desk more than what flowers she’d want at the ceremony venue. The possibility of staring into her bleak expression at an empty, cold courthouse and being forced to elope was something that made your frown droop even further.

The sad excuse of a wedding depressed you more than the thought of marrying Edira at all.

But you shook that despairing vision out of your head-- you were here to relax, to get away from the stress of your office environment (your coworkers) and neverending projects with cutthroat deadlines (running reports and files to Edira as soon as she requests them.)

“Well, I still don’t know how I convinced you to let us do this. I mean, I didn’t think you ever took vacations. When’s the last time you went on a trip that wasn’t for work?”

Edira stopped her clacking, french tips scraping along one of the computer’s keys.

“This is my first. I never had any reason to use my PTO days, until now.”

Wow, you really WERE dating a workaholic. What kind of insane person doesn’t use their personal days the second they get the chance? If you had been more than a temp, you would’ve taken all of yours the second Edira tried to indoctrinate you into her little play “date” plan.

“Well then why are you doing work!? This is one of the few times you can get away with not being available every other second of the day. You’ve been on your computer since we got on the plane-- isn’t it time we actually, you know, vacationed?”

Edira returned to her email writing. “They might need me, I’m the only one who has access to the other branches’ inf--”

“C’monn, I think they’ll be fine without you for an hour or two. Otherwise, what was the point of coming here..” You hopped to the screen doors, opening the curtains to see the glimmering ocean right outside your suite.The sand rippled with the blowing wind, completely void of footsteps or life. “I mean we LITERALLY have the ocean right here and you’d rather stare at your laptop.”

Edira hummed, not convinced.

Yikes; If you wanted to explore the island you were supposed to be vacationing on, you’d need to pull out the big guns.

“You’d rather focus on your work than… spend time with me?” Your voice cracked, looking at the ships far away from your corner of the coast. It was physically sickening to sweeten yourself up in order to get Edira’s favor. But how else could you actually use this once-in-a-lifetime chance to swim in the Indian Ocean, to experience something, anything, outside of your boring desk job and droning urban life.

At your buttered up question, Edira paused. You could see her looking at you from the corner of her eye, unreadable.

She shut her laptop. Pushing away from the desk she sighed, running a sharp hand through her hair, tight jaw clenching and unclenching.

“Put your bathing suit on.” Was all she said, unzipping the back of her form-fitting dress.

You didn’t say anything, no claps of excitement or relentless thank you’s-- lest she change her mind to ruin your fun. You hurried to change your shorts and souvenir shirt (A present from the airport gift shop; Edira saw you eyeing it) as the businesswoman walked to the master bathroom.

You prayed to be faster than her, hoping she wouldn’t catch you in a position that sparked her lust.

You were running around looking for sunscreen and towels when she came out, hands on her hips and dark sunglasses propped on her head. Even in her backless one piece, she looked like an executive on a business trip, hard glare in her eyes and a muted black covering the front of her body. From the back however, a different person was hidden. The cheeky bottoms exposed nearly the full of her, well, bottom, as ruffled locks of hair fell like messy feathers down her shoulders, exposed to the salty wind. She was the sexy women in swimsuit magazines, meant to be a fantasy of maturity and dominance way out of your league. But here she was, looking you up and down as you hopped on one foot to try and grab a towel on the other side of the bed.

“You know, i’m not really a big fan of the beach. I don’t know why I picked this place… should’ve chosen the mountains or something. Someplace we wouldn’t be bothered.”

Someplace she could have you all to herself, she meant. Somewhere you wouldn’t be distracted by things to do and would come looking to her for warmth by the fire.

“Maybe next vacation!” You hoped, praying that it turned the cogs in her machine brain to take you somewhere else, anywhere else, soon. “Meanwhile, we have our own private beach, thanks to you. We’ll only be bothered by the occasional seaweed. And maybe a fish or two.”

You gathered up the beach necessities in your arms, full of towels and a beach umbrella, along with small must-haves like water bottles and sunscreen spray cans. Edira looked at you with an incredilous stare, grabbing the towels and water from your hands to shove into her beach bag.

“Yeah, didn’t really think of that.” You said, noticing how most of the things you grabbed could be fit into her infinite ‘lifes a beach’ tote-- complementary from your Airbnb hosts.

“Let’s go.”

She walked out to the naked patio, locking her pointer finger with yours as you hiked the umbrella on your shoulder. You had come to learn Edira well; she didn’t like the sun, hated most gelatinous sugary mixtures, and was incredibly stubborn if an activity included something she found beneath her. Getting sand between her toes, included.

You found a place far away from the shore and began spinning the umbrella’s pole into the ground. Edira would surely make use of its shade, but the ocean was calling your name as she sat down on her beach towel, squinting behind her sunglasses.

“I can see the harbor from across the water; not particularly private, I’d say. The hosts’ll make sure to hear about this when we leave.”

“It’s private enough. What, did you want to go skinny dipping or something?” You laughed, clumping sand at the base of the umbrella with your foot. “The press would have a field day.”

You flumped down next to her, happy to be out of that stuffy, although beautiful, beach house that reminded you too much of Edira’s apartment. The warm sand was comforting, shells and rocks placed around you like little treasures.

“If I want to go skinny dipping with you I should be able to, not have to worry about some fisherman watching while I touch you.” She pulled at your thigh, placing her hand on the inside as she lifted up her sunglasses. “Or maybe, you’d like that, letting them watch you frolick and squirm. Maybe we should find out if they can really see us--”

She had the full intention of digging under your bottoms to make a statement, but your reaction time to her had improved.

“You’re such a worrywart, can we just swim now please? It’s better than sitting her in the hot sun, on the sticky sand..” You knew you caught her when she turned her nose at the mention of the sun, only worsening as she started to feel the sand cover her feet.

She was a priss through and through, and sometimes it worked in your favor.

“Fine… but if I’m touched by something slimy I can’t help what I do.”

You grinned with your teeth, unable to hold back a smile at finally getting to experience the beginning of your vacation.

You ran to the waves crashing against the sand, feeling them flick up at your ankles and knees as you waded in the water.

You turned around to walk backwards into the sea, watching as the woman hesitantly took out a hairtie that once had her hair in a high pony.

“Come on! Slowpoke!”

Edira reached the gap between land and water, frowning at schools of tiny fish and jagged rocks that would surely make it hard to walk in heels the next morning.

You had to drag her further, holding her outstretched hand as she let you lead her deeper into the water.

“It’s not so bad, right? Nothing slimy thus far…”

“Something’s definitely touching my leg.” She remarked, linking arms with you as if you were a safety floaty. “And it smells like fish.”

You both trudged far enough from shore, a little more than waist deep as you watched the sun near the horizon line.

You took a moment to look at it, staring as the boats pass by from far away, seeing the empty houses on the beach neighboring yours between areas of trees.

Edira turned towards you, the same moment something coming to grip your bottom.

“Something nabbed me!” You nearly shrieked, only to feel the same sensation on your other cheek, pulling you forward against Edira. She had her arms wrapped behind you, squeezing your ass like it was dough to be kneaded.

“Thought I was the scared one, hm?”

You looked away, putting your hands against Edira’s abdomen. She leered over you, ignoring your attempts to create distance as she caged you in. The waves pushed you together, water swaying as her legs brushed against your knees deep below.

“don't look away from me now, you're too adorable like this…”

She watched your eyes barely peek up, defensive fists flattening against the bare of her collarbone. She was almost spotless, save for a few sun-kissed freckles sprinkled here and there.

Edira grinned a wolfy smirk. Even despite her discomfort in the sea she knew you were wrapped around her finger, nervous lips twitching while watching her bring a hand from your bottom to your neck.

Her hands were salty and wet from the sea, pulling at the base of your head to bring you closer. The workaholic almost seemed to begin destressing as her nose pressed against yours.. Edira nuzzled with her forehead pressed to your sweaty one, fine fingers caressing downward to grab your jaw.

Without warning, her tongue perched itself against your cheek, turning your face to the side as she ran a long stripe up to your temple. It was wet and full, drawing out her time to savor the flavor and discomfort of your expression.

“What are you--”

“Salty.” She murmured. “You're so soft, getting all mushy in my arms.” Edira laughed-- a real laugh, with a small snort as she leaned into you. She was so close, the intimate entertwining of your bodies so unusual from her normal obscurity.

It was hard not to look petulant when her eyes peered down at you with a gleam, as if you were a cute drunk thing at the bar she wanted to take home safe, or a pampered puppy ready to be suffocated with attention.

“So cute.. might make me jealous letting all these boatmen see you in such a little bathing suit.” She teased, progressively in a better mood now with the clouds blocking the sun and your body so cooperative in her grasp.

“Jealous?” You rolled your eyes. “Oh noo, I could never imagine my girlfriend being jealous.”

All the times of her domineering possessive behavior ran through your head, the sarcastic comment truly not detailing how severe she had gone.

“I am your girlfriend…” she grinned, kissing your shoulder with a tight grip arpund your hips. “Now that I hear it,I want more… it sounds too, loose.”

Wait, did you really call her your “girlfriend”? Hell, maybe the sun was starting to get to you.

“We'll it’s not like we can get MARRIED, haha,” you awkwardly brush off how romantic she's being all of a sudden, soft circles created by her nails running along the dip of your back. “I mean… right? We're too uncommitted for marriage, and I mean who would want to marry someone the’re in a fake relationship with.”

You couldn’t tell if you were talking about her or you anymore. Edira’s chest pressed against yours, arms tentatively keeping you trapped against her.

“Mm… Still feels fake to you?” She questioned In your neck, surprisingly calmer than you expected her to be at that comment. “How much more do I need to convince you that this is real,” Those soft lips came to brush against your ear. “That you’re not going anywhere.”

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buckyalpine · 1 year

Text

Pretend

College bucky x best friend reader, jealous Sharon, Steve and Sam are goofs.

all the fluffff Friends to lovers

This shit has been sitting in my drafts for months. Idk why I started this or where I wanted it to go but here with our with more sweet college Bucky. Finally decided to finish it.

“Buck!”

“Hey nugget”

You plopped on the sofa beside him in the library, not even bothering to pull your notes out to study. You scrolled through your phone, leaning against Bucky while he worked on his term paper.

“I grabbed you your drink by the way” Bucky leaned over, grabbing a coffee cup off the table, handing it to you before returning to his laptop. You hummed contently, sipping on the warm liquid, your body heating up, not because you were drinking hot coffee but because you were snuggled against Bucky. One of your closest friends. Who also played football on campus. Not at all someone you had a crush on. Nope.

Bucky bit his lip, term paper be damned, you were tucked right into his side and he was fighting himself not to wrap his arm around your waist to pull you closer. He huffed through his nose, reading the same paragraph ten times over, not once actually comprehending what it said. The soft scent of your shampoo was evading his senses and it didn’t help that your head was leaning onto his shoulder.

You both sat in comfortable silence, until the sound of clicking heels made its way towards where you were both seated. For fucks sake.

“Hey Jamesss” Sharon sauntered over, letting his name roll off her tongue, throwing him a bashful flirty smile, completely ignoring your presence.

“Hi Sharon” Bucky offered her a pained grimace, shifting uncomfortably as she twirled a piece of her hair, her eyes trailing up and down his toned form. You internally rolled your eyes, staying glued to your phone while she continued to eye fuck him.

“Soooo I heard Sam’s having a party this weekend?” Yes, and you somehow weaseled your way into it, we know, you thought to yourself. “Will you be there?” They’re best friends, of course he’s going, are you daft?

“Uh, yeah” Bucky nodded, his soul dying a little with each passing minute.

“If you weren’t going with anyone-

“I’m going with my girl”

“Y-your girl?” Sharon gawked, her eyes growing wide as Bucky kissed your cheek. You squeaked feeling his lips press onto your skin; it wouldn’t have been the first time he kissed you like that but…never mind, play the part now, worry later.

Bucky smiled, his arm wrapping around you with ease. You cackled internally, happily slipping into your role as his pretend girlfriend, slinking onto his lap. You hit the nail on the coffin pressing a little kiss against his neck, nuzzling into his hold.

“That’s your girl?” She did her best to sound disgusted but she’d completely lost Bucky’s attention; the second you crawled into his lap, he was a goner.

“Mhm, my pretty baby” Bucky murmured, his lips brushing against your cheek. It didn’t even look like he was talking to her anymore, saying it more to himself, loving the way you fit perfectly in his lap. You’d playfully sat in his lap before but this...the softness of your lips on his neck, the way you were relaxed in his arms....why the hell were you not actually his girlfriend, he’d always been in love with you anyway-

“Oh” Sharon cut of Bucky’s train of thought, shrugging, pretending she didn’t care, “Well, you know where to find me, see you there” she frowned when Bucky didn’t bother looking up at her, his eyes still trained on you, while you continued to cuddle into his chest. Sharon huffed, leaving the both of you gazing at each other, unaware she wasn’t even there anymore; Bucky’s hands moving to grip your waist, another slipping up your sweater.

You shivered at the feel of his hands, your eyes flicking down to his lips, the both of you letting your eyes bounce to each others lips, eyes, both of your minds racing with feelings that had been hidden away.

He’s so pretty

She’s always been my doll

His arms are my safe place

She’s so perfect to cuddle with

I wish he saw me that way

I don’t know if she’d want to go out with me

I love him

I love her

You realized you’d stayed in Bucky’s lap for longer than necessary, gasping when he held you in place as you tried to scramble off. He pulled you closer, his nose bumping against yours, your hands going down to clutch onto his hoodie to find a way to ground yourself.

Meanwhile, somewhere in a corner of the library

“Do they even realize Sharon left?”

“No”

“Your best friend is a dumbass, you know that?”

“He’s your bestfriend too”

“I can’t claim him when his game is this weak, y/n is literally in his lap and he’s just rubbing her like a fucking lamp, expecting her to grant him 3 wishes. Fucking kiss her”

“He’s just nervous”

“BARNES, WILL YOU JUST KI-

“SHHH, it’s a library!”

“BARNES STOP ACTING LIKE A VIRGIN AND KISS HER-

Steve scrambled over, slapping his hand over Sam’s mouth, the two of them wrestling in the corner while Bucky continued to obliviously gaze at you.

“So, I’m your girlfriend, huh?” You whispered, softly poking his side to tease him.

“You most definitely are doll” He nodded, his heart nearly thrashing against his chest. “Better be convincing so she’ll leave me alone” He smirked, his blue eyes sparkling. “We’ll have to pretend all the time for her to really believe it”

“Mhm, and how long do I have to pretend for?” You bit your lip, trying to hide your nervousness.

“I don’t know, couple days” He kissed your lips softly, while your eyes grew wide, did he really just-“Or a new weeks” He kissed you again, smiling against your lips when you squeaked, “maybe even months” His pecks were so soft and gentle, you melted more each time, “possibly forever?” His looked at you with his sweet puppy eyes, hoping you’d feel the same way about the last option.

He didn’t even realize the both of you had started to lean into each other until your lips touched, his eyes rolling back, desperate for more of your sweetness. You nuzzled into his touch further, softly moaning against his lips, parting them giving him more access to your mouth. Bucky couldn't help himself, gently tugging your hair, cupping your cheek to deepen the kiss, not letting you go until you both needed oxygen. You pulled away, unable to stop yourself from grinning.

“You okay with forever, peanut?” Bucky looked down at you, having the same goofy grin plastered on his face, his lips brushing against yours, sneaking in a few more pecks before kissing your forehead.

“Of course I’ll pretend with you forever, Buck” You shrugged as if it was obvious, climbing off him momentarily to pack your things.

“Y’know we might even have to pretend to get married some day to really make her believe it” You squealed when he lifted you bridal style with ease, wrapping your arms around his neck while he carried you out of the library and to his car.

“Hmm, maybe we can even have 2 babies, that’ll convince everyone” You raised a brow while Bucky bit his lip, his mind now going other places,

“Hmm, I’d love to make some babies with you, doll” Bucky smirked, setting you down and opening the car door for you. “Let me take you on a pretend date first”

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leeehye · 10 months

Text

🫧˗ˏˋmy shy boy´ˎ˗ 🫧

[ summary ☁️] Seonghwa’s rejection to Y/n might turn out unexpected after time. But why did he reject her in the first place?

[ pairing ] nerd!seonghwa x prettygirl!reader /best friends to lovers

[ warnings ⚠️] none full fluff really. Just kissing- nothing happens, not fully proofread sorry

[ a/n 🍒] I’m sorry I’m taking long with the series, this is just a short drabble to make up 🌷

Y/n’s POV

I was finishing getting ready to go out with my best friend, Park Seonghwa, or as my other friends may know him, my long-time crush. Yet I have always lived a life of rejecting the truth ever since that day.

While putting in my earrings he came to my mind, and not like my best friend it made me remember that day, it was finals back in high school and I had invited him over to study for the math final.

We were sitting down on the floor in the living room each of us working and then tutoring each other like always and goofing around once in a while.

Until I caught myself admiring Seonghwa working on his iPad and then transferring information to his notes. His black hair, looked so soft and touchable, his big black eyes were focused on his work and his pretty lips gently parted as he mumbled what he wrote to himself.

I small smile formed on my face, before looking back at my laptop. I had developed a crush on Seonghwa probably since freshman year in high school and it was growing worse (bigger). We were in Senior year now, about to graduate and head to college and I was gathering the courage to tell him my feelings.

Though I had to admit it was scary, he was a really focused guy and he didn’t really talk about girls with me nor I have never seen him interested in love. As I was drowned in my thoughts his gentle voice let out a soft “oops” making me look. He had dropped his eraser and I smiled slowly reaching for it, and he did as well. Our fingertips gently touched.

We have held hands before, shared hugs or kiss each other’s heads but to me all of those little things mean more to me. But I am sure to him he just sees it as something normal. Like right now, the feeling of his warm fingers on my hand gave me soft butterflies on my belly.

Should I tell him right now? Gathering the courage I cleared my throat giving him his eraser before scooting closer to him our knees touching and I glanced at what he was looking at.

“um…Hwa?” I whispered to him, he hummed as he finished writing something before looking at me. I gulped softly swallowing the knot in my throat.

“have you ever…liked someone?” my question made his face turn into a confused one as his eyes moved to somewhere in the house as he seemed to think about it.

“oh…I had never actually thought about it Y/n…but I don’t think so…I think I’m just really focused on studying…I think I’m a weird nerd” he said laughing softly making me laugh with him shaking my head.

“no I don’t think so Hwa! Actually um…I think you’re really…cute” I finished my sentence quietly as he slowly stopped writing a formula in his notebook, but he didn’t look at me for a few seconds.

I was dying inside, wanting to take back everything but it was too late. I had told him what I thought of him but in a more honest tone. Which he quickly caught realizing I wasn’t joking, like we do.

His head slowly turns as his eyes meets mine. My body was hot, I couldn’t read him, his expression wasn’t good nor bad and I didn’t know what to expect.

Future me might regret it later but I slowly took the pencil off his hand and slowly his eyes watched my movements carefully and my hand slowly rested on his.

My eyes kept looking at him and taking the chance that his head was turned away, I leaned in a placed a soft kiss on his cheek. His eyes widened and his hand gently flinched under mine.

He looked at me, moving his hand away as his mouth gently opened and closed trying to find the words. I somehow got the feeling that he didn’t feel that same. Letting me know this was a one-sided love.

“Y/n…what—” Seonghwa stutter as his hand slowly touched the spot that I kissed. My shoulders slowly dropped looking down.

“Y/n I don’t…I didn’t expect this” he finished saying as my heart slowly broke, I looked at him quickly moving away.

“I’m…I’m really sorry…you’re right…um…I think we’re ready for the final on Wednesday…” I whispered trying to calm down and change the subject. Trying to forget what had happened.

“I’m tired…You should get home before it gets dark” I said picking up my books and notebooks getting up leaving to my room, and then a cried all night, from embarrassment, pain and for probably ruining my friendship with Seonghwa.

After that incident, at school Seonghwa told me to forget about what had happened and to act like it never happened and from then our friendship continued but I was mire reserved while working on moving on from him.

I came back to reality when my mom knocked on the door, I quickly grabbed my bag and opened the door.“Sweetie, Seonghwa is here. I think he hust parked” my mom said as I walked out

After she said that the doorbell rang, and we both smiled. “Yup that’s him mom” I said giggling and we headed down. I got the door and opened it seeing Seonghwa smiling as soon as he saw me.

“Hi…” I said sweetly as he returned the greeting before my mom appeared behind me.

“Oh good evening Mrs. Kim” he said to my mom giving her a smile showing his pretty teeth. My mom giggled and sneakily elbowed me.

“Just to let you guys know, don’t rush on getting back, just don’t be to noisy just in case—” my mom started making my eyes go wide.

“mom!” I quickly said stopping her from finishing as my cheeks turned red. Seonghwa was wearing his focused faced with what my mom was saying, which he probably understood. Before smiling when I stopped my mom.

After saying goodnight to my mom I got out of the house closing the door behind me. I awkwardly smiled at Seonghwa.

“sorry for my mom…um where are we going?” I said softly while we walked to his car as he opened the door for me.

“I was thinking we could go to the park, and maybe do some stargazing and just walk around and grab some snacks on the way” he suggested and I smiled nodding happily.

To some people it may seem boring, mostly for this society but I loved how we both were old fashioned, mostly me. The way he was simple in his ideas made me like him more, but we were just friends. Yet I couldn’t stop seeing him as the guy that would write you letters, have a cute lego building night, a reading date. He was perfect for that.

We had finally reached the park and started walking to out usual stargazing spot. I smiled noticing he was carrying a fluffy blanket.

“What? You didn’t think I was going to let you sit on the grass right? It’s really itchy after” he said making me laugh at his comment.

“thank you Hwa…” I quietly said earning a smile from him. While reaching our spot I noticed an old lady with an ice cream stand.

“Ooh Hwa, can we get ice cream?” I asked grabbing him by his sleeve pulling him over hearing him giggle. Reaching the ice cream stand I looked inside before picking chocolate for me and strawberry for Seonghwa.

“How you know?” Seonghwa asked as I looked at him. “Hm…I just do…That’s how good I know you” I responded playfully winking at him before looking at the nice ild lady getting some cash from my pocket but Seonghwa held my hand.

Bringing back the feeling of his soft hand on mine I stayed quiet watching him pay instead and I gently grabbed my ice cream and he took his, he still had my hand in his.

Not wanting to be reminded of that day I took my hand away from his and giggled.

“Can I try your ice cream?” I asked him sweetly and he just smiled allowing me to ad he got his ice cream come to me, as I softly tried his ice cream and that’s when he gently pushed it towards me getting it on my lips and some on my nose making me squeal.

“Hwa!!” I whined giggling licking the ice cream off my lips pouting trying to get myself cleaned while he was laughing. After a fee laughs he took out some napkins and came close to me cleaning my nose. He was close I could smell the strawberries 🍓 in his breath.

God, Y/n you need to contain yourself like you’ve been doing all along. He had a smile on his lips while cleaning me, his movements slowed down, and I see his eyes darken. His glance from my nose went to my eyes, and slowly to my lips.

I did want to get ahead of myself and took the napkin from him. “Thank you Hwa! Come on the evening is beautiful!” I said changing the subject going to our usual spot under a cherry blossom tree, it was so pretty. It wasn’t windy but it was just perfect and some of them were flying off.

Seonghwa laid the blanket down and we took a seat finishing our ice cream. I admired the evening as time went on and the sky started to tint itself with pink and orange.

“it looks so pretty, don’t you think?” I asked “Hwa—” I asked turning my head to him already staring at me as he jumped quickly shaking his head waking up from whatever thoughts he was having.

“Yeah, yes it’s…really pretty…” Seonghwa responded with his soft stuttering voice. I showed him a smile and gently hit his arm

“Um…Y/n? Did you ever…felt bad or…were you ever embarrassed of me? For being the quiet…nerd?” Seonghwa asked me making me look at him in shock.

“Of course not Hwa! What kind of question is that?!” I exclaimed gently touching his arm and he gently gave me a closed smile.

“I was just curious, since a girl like you back in…high school…it would have been strange…since you were the pretty girl…you know?” Seonghwa was talking nervously and started to make no sense but it only made me giggle.

“So does that mean? Wait…back then, god I wish I could turn back time” he whispered making me confused, I slowly tilted my head feeling his hand on top of mine. I looked down at it, we were now in opposite roles from back then.

He came close and my heart started raising, his strawberry breath reached my senses and the butterflies from high school were felt again. His big eyes were on mine before moving down, to my lips.

I opened my mouth to try and word something but I couldn’t, not because I couldn’t find the words but because before I could talk he crashed his lips on mine.

I was frozen, he was kissing me for the first time, and not on the cheek like I did, on the lips, they were so soft. The way he softly moved them, making me kiss him back after a few seconds. Our lips worked in sync sharing a sweet and soft kiss.

His hand slowly rearranged itself and intertwined our fingers together before moving his other hand to the back of my head, making us drop down slowly laying me on the blanket.

I had waited for this for so long I couldn’t let it go to waist. Still kissing him we separated a few millimeters to catch our breath before continuing and that’s when I gently licked his lower lip, I felt his reaction to my sudden movement making me blush.

We slowly pull away followed with a soft wet sound, and we just looked at each other with smiles on our faces and I slowly touched his shirt gently fixing his hoodie.

“W-why until now?” I whispered to him gently kissing his chin making him smile shyly.

“Because I was a coward Y/n I think that’s the only explanation there is…” he started as he looked down before tuning him glance back at me.

“I was scared? Of what others might think, imagine the quiet nerd dating the prettiest and sweetest girl, the class president? I just…I think you were to much for me Y/n” he whispered softly pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

“and you don’t know how much I regret not responding to you that day…everyday I thought about it…and well…I hope I’m not to late” Seonghwa whispered to me making me give him a sad smile.

He was getting out of his comfort zone and expressing his feelings for me, of course it wasn’t too late, my love for him was still there and he was new to all this, I couldn’t blame him. He was so cute!

“Of course it’s not too late Hwa…yes I was sad that day but our friendship was way more important but now that…I know how you feel I’m so happy” I said gently cupping his face as his cheeks tinted red and looked down shyly.

“Do you…want to…give me a chance? I promise to show you all my love, because I’ve always wanted to be more than friends with you” Seonghwa whispered while admiring my eyes making me blush as I have him a gentle nod.

“Yes Hwa I will give you a chance, but you better not hurt me like that day” I said playfully kissing his cheek as he shook his head wanting to forget about that day before pecking my lips but I pulled him down into a more passionate kiss.

After sharing a passionate kiss he was laying down with one arm behind his head and the other arm around me as we watched the stars. I couldn’t ask for more, I loved my shy boy so much.

IM IN LOVE WITH PARK SEONGHWA 🤎 and this just made me love him more this is so cuteee!

I’m sorry for taking long on a dare after all and sweet truth I have been busy and I couldn’t really get into it fully! I posted this to update you guys with something ☕

Any interaction is really appreciated. 💕

#ateez #seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut #seonghwa imagines #ateez x reader #park seonghwa #park seonghwa imagines #seonghwa scenarios #ateezedit #ateez reactions

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pagannatural · 2 months

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2.01

In My Time of Dying

-Dean looks like he’s witnessing a miracle when he first sees at Sam at the hospital.

-Sam can hear and/or sense Dean at least three times while Dean’s unconscious. He’s the only one. He can’t do this with anyone else at any point. Further evidence their connection is metaphysical.

-Dean references Ghost, a movie about a woman and the ghost of her lover. 👀

-Sam is appalled that John can think of anything but Dean when Dean might die, but Sam was ready to blow right past the possibility of saving John in order to get revenge last episode. One thing about Sam is that he really loves Dean more than anyone else and he won’t say it, but it comes out at times like these. I think Sam would feel pathetic if he actually said it.

-Sam is unwilling to entertain the idea of Dean dying. He sees the car and says that when he gets better he’s gonna want to fix it, and Sam knows his brother because he’s absolutely right.

He won’t let Bobby scrap Dean’s car, which is a metaphor for Dean’s life. Sam is ready to accept whatever condition Dean wakes up in. It’s also cute that Sam sees the impala as Dean’s, not John’s. It makes me wonder how many drives Dean took Sam on when they were younger, if Dean often snuck him away for little hang-outs like the fireworks. If they started lying on the hood looking at the stars when they were teenagers.

-That moment Sam says “felt like Dean” is this moment in the hallway outside of Dean’s hospital room

so what Sam is feeling as Dean is this reassuring, caretaking, determined presence promising not to leave him and promising to fight.

-The spirit board scene is one of my favorite scenes ever. What is it about this scene? There’s this sweet innocence to it, and the fact that they’re reaching across a veil to communicate because they just can’t let go of each other. It makes their relationship look really intimate and separate from everyone else. Sam saying “don’t make fun of me,” Dean grumbling that he feels like he’s at a slumber party, Dean sitting across from Sam and watching him. That moment when Dean touches the planchette, Sam is so happy to actually feel him, and Dean is in awe that he can. They need this contact.

Sam goes “it hasn’t been the same without you, Dean” and then the planchette moves and he says “Dean, what?” and then “Dean is it after you?” Sam really likes saying Dean’s name. He says it all the time. People like saying their crush’s names.

-Sam sits on Dean’s bed, his knee against Dean’s leg, and looks at Dean’s face. Ghost-Dean stands next to Sam, looking at Sam’s face. There’s something really intimate about them gazing at each other like this, with Sam not knowing Dean is looking at him too. They wouldn’t be talking so intimately if Dean were lying there looking back at Sam. Kind of like when you’re talking to someone before bed with the lights out and it feels easier to say what you mean.

-“We were just starting to be brothers again.” If this is them just getting started at being brothers again I would kill to see what they were like at their worst closest.

There’s so much in the word “brother” for them. It comes up over and over. I don’t think they ever do this with any other relationship word- neither ever tries to explain their love for John by saying “he’s my dad” with tears in their eyes. It’s like a sacred title. There’s no way they can express what they are to each other, so they use this word that’s only ever applied to each other and that carries their whole history.

The point their relationship has reached now is that Sam trusts Dean completely, Dean needs Sam, and they’re each others’ top priorities. Were they like that right up until Stanford or did something happen before then?

John wrote in his journal about them not getting along as well as they used to when Sam gets into his teens, and speculates that it’s from living in Dean’s shadow. But John was also aware that his boys had their own world that he didn’t have access to, and even very attentive parents often miss quite a bit of what’s going on with their teenage kids.

What we see in teen-era flashbacks is a Sam who resents Dean for being “cool,” a Dean being protective of Sam but also respectful. We see a girl who’s dating Dean only because she thinks maybe he’s not as much of a tool as he seems based on how sweet he is to his little brother. We have Dean and Sam burning down a field when they sneak away to light fireworks, Sam wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist in delight. And we have Sam only wanting to talk to Dean about a case over the phone-not John- and asking for Dean’s advice. They were still close. We know Sam ran away from home once and Dean was out of his mind worried before finding him.

And based on “Providence” Sam and Dean both know Sam feels some type of way about Dean, which would’ve happened pre-Stanford.

And then Sam didn’t tell Dean about Stanford and they didn’t talk for years and Dean thinks Sam must hate him and Dean hates himself but Sam looks at him like a puppy in love. And now “we were just starting to be brothers again.” I wonder what happened for them to both know why Sam isn’t interested in dating when he’s with Dean, and if it had to do with this.

-Sam asks “can you hear me” to an empty room- Ghost Dean isn’t there. It shows how alone Sam feels without Dean.

-Dean objects to dying because he thinks Sam will die without him. This would be an insane thing to think in any other circumstances but I can see why he would think that (see: the babysitting years, the fire at Stanford, etc).

-Sam loves Dean so ferociously. He fights hard for him. He’s protective of Dean to John the whole episode, and it makes me think he’s always been mad at John not just for himself but for Dean too.

-John tells Dean he will have to either save Sam or kill him. Dean’s contract with John previously was always to save and care for Sam. Now saving him has a different and more religious meaning.

-So John thanks Dean for taking care of both him and Sammy, tells him he may have to kill Sam, and then dies. Iconic.

#samdean #supernatural #spn meta #wincest #sam and dean #spn 2x01

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silverflqmes · 7 months

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໒⦂ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊.

synopsis. dan heng, a person of very few words, has been meaning to confess his love, and even more so now as he prays you are not in love with someone else.

genre. fluff

for @diorlumx <3

dan heng x gn!reader.

a pair of cerulean hues eyed you as a laugh escaped your lips at another joke jing yuan made.

dan heng wasn’t one to get jealous, at least he considered himself not to be. but right now, watching you as you as he was, the vidyadhara couldn’t help the envy that crawled into the deepest layers of his skin.

“there was no reason to be bitter,” he’d told himself not too long ago, forcing himself to forget the way serval held you so closely to her. the blonde was naturally warm and physical with her affection, anyway.

but even if you likes one of them or someone else, it was something heng had anticipated from the very start. something he’d expected.

of course you would want someone with less emotional baggage, who wasn’t running away from their past. you’d most certainly favor a lover that made you laugh, smile and feel true happiness with.

anyone would want someone that wasn’t dan heng. an introvert, closed off individual; even a coward to some. whatever characteristics or titles he’d received throughout his travels. nobody wanted someone like that, and he accepted that.

and so, he told himself not to care so much if someday you did turn up at the express, hand in hand with somebody you deeply loved.

after all, it was your life to live and your choice, always. he would never ( ever ) take that away from you or chain you down to him.

however, the thought of you being in love with someone else.. without the knowledge of his feelings for you, stung him a little more than it should have.

with that in mind, the onyx haired boy did the last thing he would have ever caught himself doing.

with tentative steps towards you, he willed his lead filled legs to move, the beat of his heart thundering — echoing your name through his pointed ears.

dan heng wasn’t sure what came over him, let alone compelled him to muster the courage to grab you by the hand as he pulled you away from the albino haired general.

confusion replaced your initial cheeriness before turning into concern as you watched the male lead you elsewhere.

ever since his secret had been spilled for all eyes to see on the xianzhou luofu, he’d been acting off. which to you, was well, completely understandable. although it didn’t stop your worries as you slid your eyes to him. “dan heng?”

silence was his response as he looked ahead of him, thundering heart in his throat. what was he supposed to say? what was he meant to answer with that didn’t sound weird or out of character to say?

you took his lack of words as a sign to be quiet; patient. dan heng, you realized, required a bit of patience. if he didn’t want to say something, he would say it when he was ready. same with the appearance he hid all this time.

as you got a better look at him, you couldn’t help the warmth you felt on your cheeks despite the ocean breeze. he was beautiful. and he was forced into hiding all of his beauty, not that his norm wasn’t alluring to begin with.

when he reached a far enough- a safe enough spot, the aquamarine eyed male slowed his tracks, turning to face you properly. “i have,” he paused, taking in a breath before loosing it softly. “something i have been meaning to tell you for a long time now.”

your thoughts immediately went to the recent events — was he planning to stay on the luofu, now that he had been accepted among his people once more? no, you couldn’t jump to conclusions. “is it something bad?”

dan heng wasn’t certain. was it good? was it really just bad? it all depended on how you would see it. and if you thought it to be bad, the shame would probably haunt him until his dying days.

but he had to speak, now.

“i’m hoping it isn’t.” he answered finally, meeting your gaze again. it was now or never. “y/n, you are the light in the darkness i have lived in so long. the dreams that drive out my nightmares — and i have been afraid, so afraid of telling you.” the male began, steadying himself from fumbling with his words.

this was it. “that i have liked you for quite a long time now — and i just, wanted to tell you..” he paused, grasping his clothing. “before it was too late for me to say.”

as you processed his words, you were reminded of what jing yuan had said that made you laugh as you did. “i think there is more to what dan heng feels for you than what he leads on.” it was a joke, it had to be one. this was your stoic comrade you were talking about. he wasn’t one for romances and affection.

but as you weighed his confession, as it repeated in your head.. you realized more and more, that it wasn’t a joke. dan heng had his sarcastic comments, yes. but this, this wasn’t one of them.

this was him pulling the heart out of his throat and putting it in his hands, vulnerable and true, for you to see.

and now, it was your turn.

“well.. you’re just in time — you will always be on time.” you finally willed yourself to answer, reaching for his hands as you took a step towards him. “because it’s you — dan heng, that i’ll choose. no matter how long i have to wait- if i have to spend forever wondering.”

your hand slid to his cheek, bringing his eyes to yours. “in every life you might live or be reborn in — i will be there to say yes, and return the feelings i share with you.”

notes. this is so enchanted ( taylor’s version ) coded, it just felt fitting tbh.. such an iconic song like fellas ain’t nobody pouring their hearts out in music these days like my girlie taylor does. anyway, i hope you enjoyed luma! i apologize if it was short, i wrote this in several sittings since i’ve been on trip.. so i’m hoping it’s what you were looking for and that you enjoyed reading it!

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

#— ; 🏹 ) honkai star rail fics.#— ; 🏹 ) astral express.#dan heng #imbibitor lunae #dan heng il #honkai dan heng #honkai star rail #hsr dan heng #dan heng x gender neutral reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #dang heng x reader #hsr #dan heng imagines #astral express #dan heng il x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail dan heng

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mingigoo · 2 years

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Halloween 🍂 k.hj (m)

based on Halloween by phoebe bridgers

🍂 pairing ⇢ roommate! Hongjoong x medical student! (fem) reader

🍂 summary ⇢ life is the same, no matter a holiday. You wake up, hear the sirens from the hospital down the street, go to work, and come back home to your beautiful roommate, Hongjoong. It’s an endless cycle, but this Halloween, you could be anything—do anything. You decide to give into your infatuation, causing life to take a turn for you both. Happy Halloween, I guess.

🍂genre/au ⇢ Halloween au, roommate au, friends to lovers

🍂 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ minors dni, mental illness (anxiety attacks), unprotected sex, hongjoong is a literal chef and certified sweetheart, literally the best roommate you could ever have, dreary, sad vibes, hongjoong has a cat, spooky season vibes, mention of death, oral sex (female recieving), best friends that dont know how to express their feelings, halloween party, yunho makes an appearance, hongjoong makes music, roommates to lovers, plz let me know if I missed anything.

🍂word count ⇢ 13.5k

🍂taglist ⇢ @atinywhore@meowmeowminnie @roe-sinning @yeritheloml @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @sanshineeeeee @8tinytings @yukine-smx @jjhmk @yesv01 @halesandy @ch0isa99ie @y00nzin0 @spiderrenjunfics

Halloween. The time to dress up and act like someone you’re not. To have that insatiable feeling to be someone new—to put on a mask. To be absolutely anything you desire…

But the thing is, it’s not just you. You're not the only one feeling this way, and it's ever so apparent on one singular day, when everyone has a chance to hide their flaws behind comical masks or tedious costume designs. It's all out of fun, people say. It's the trend, it's the reason for the occasion. But, out of everything, you are becoming whatever you want—the same way Cinderella became a princess overnight, only to get it taken away from her the minute the hour of the next day struck.

To you, Halloween was your excuse to become a different person. To gain a new strength you never had. To free your mind into an alternate reality and explore those deep feelings you've been keeping away from spilling over the surface.

And this halloween, you were going to find your way out of that dark room you called a mind.

—

You sat in your cozy nook of the townhouse you shared, a mug of steaming coffee next to you while you read. Slow, gentle rain drops fell down the glass of the window, the soft pitter-patter creating an intimate environment. Your roommate’s cat added to the feeling, as she was curled up in a ball at your feet, dusty fur matching your fluffy socks.

It's finally october—your favorite time of the year, although there was no reason for it other than the tasty coffee flavors and the colorful scenery. Your roommate also adored the season, as it reflected in his peculiar food concoctions and outfit choices. Sometimes you would just sit and watch his eyes sparkle as he would do his favorite things, keeping your admiration in check.

Of course, he was on your mind way more than a roommate should be. Even now, as your eyes move from word to word across the smooth pages, you begin to think of his smile.

It was a Saturday afternoon. Your shift at the hospital ended the night before, three hours later than normal. It's gotten to the point that you would shiver whenever you hear sirens—and you were blessed with not only hearing the sirens at work, but also at home.

The hospital was only down the street; the closest one on this side of town. You had to keep those intrusive thoughts away, telling yourself someone better be dying just because the sirens are getting out of hand is a bit of a stretch, someone should slap you for thinking that way. In all honesty, you didn't actually mean it. The sounds were just so overwhelming, it felt like death was looming above you no matter where you turned.

Hongjoong hasn't returned from his morning classes yet. Luckily for you, you were doing your hospital internship and didn't have to take a bunch of classes this semester. Although basically living at a hospital isn't exactly any better.

You sighed as you watched the man of the hour walk through the lifeless leaves on the pavement through the window, keeping your heartbeat steady as you admired him. He had headphones on, hiding his cute little ear piercings and pieces of his faded rusty hair.

God, he made you sick.

The crimson door of the townhouse swung open, revealing the man you were just daydreaming about. He stood in the doorway, looking down at his damp, beaten up converse before bending down to untie them. He got impatient, and just pulled them off of his feet, leaving him only in his cute little pumpkin socks.

“y/n, I brought you a croissant,” he called out to you, not realizing you were only a glance away. He set his bag down on the table and took off his headphones, shaking his head to fix his hair. “You better get over here before I eat it.”

“Is it chocolate filled?” you asked him quietly from your nook, to which he whipped his head to look at you.

The minute he laid his eyes on you, he broke out in a huge smile, his gums showing. “Well, yeah. That's your favorite.”

You stared at him intently, setting down your book on your lap and sitting up a bit. This caused the kitty to meow, which had an immediate effect on your roommate.

His eyes widened. “Oh!” he gasped, running over to the cat to pay attention to her. “Look, baby, we’re twins,” he pointed to his pumpkin socks, smiling proudly. You knew that he only got those socks because of the pumpkins—and because his cat was named pumpkin. “My sweet little pumpkin.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” you scoffed, sliding out of your blanket and setting the book down. You made your way over to the table, which was where he set the croissant bag. “Anyway, thank you, joong.”

He looked over at you and smiled as a response, but it wasn't enough. You wanted him to come over to you and hold you tight, kiss you on the forehead, and let his soft breaths hit you as he would breathe for you.

Now, you weren't always like this. He’s been your roommate since freshman year, all the way back when you used to live on campus. You’ve been in three different living situations with him, but for some reason, living alone with him in a townhouse with a cat and a cute garden in the back just made your mind live in delululand. Dear god, you felt like a married couple at times, as he would spare no second to cook you dinner or help you with your laundry.

There was just something about him that was so domestic—the same thing you craved every chance you got. But yet, here you were, still daydreaming about it all and never getting it to happen.

And you know exactly when it started. On that halloween, three years ago, when he held you tight in his embrace after finding out your grandmother had passed. It was one of the worst panic attacks in your history. He takes care of you when they happen now, but back then, it was all new to him.

It wasn't supposed to be the type of moment you think about how his hair smelled, or the way his dainty hands caressed the tears away. It wasn't supposed to play out that way. But yet, it did, and you were still stuck with the feelings years later.

Halloween is less than a month away now—this year, it was a chance for you to hide away, or show your true colors.

— —

It was midnight and cold and all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball in your bed. Being in the emergency room was even harder than you imagined, and you knew you had a night of tossing and turning ahead of you. Luckily tomorrow was a rest day, and you would be back on campus for a seminar. You needed a break from the hustle and bustle of life versus death, and you started to think that maybe you just weren't cut out for it. It was far too late for your indecisiveness to kick in, as it seemed to jump up and surprise you every now and again. Hey! This isn't what you want to do, right? What about this? Ah, no, that's not what I want….

A never ending cycle of your life. Wake up, think about hongjoong. Drink coffee made by hongjoong. Have your shoes tied by hongjoong. Go to work and nearly die. Come home from your commute and see hongjoong. Hongjoong makes food for you. Hongjoong smiles for you. Hongjoong…..

Hongjoong, Hongjoong, Hongjoong……

He’s everywhere; Is everything. You know you wouldn't survive without the helpful, caring hands of the man you called a roommate, but you also don't know what will happen when you graduate and part ways. Knowing that he has no mental ties to you quite in the way you have him tied around every morsel of your psyche, it nearly breaks your heart just thinking about it.

Would you crumble right there? Like an old painting or a sculpture, would you cave in without that constant attention? That constant affection for just your existence?

Giving up on your existential thoughts for the night, you slowly glided up the few steps of the brick townhouse, nearly tripping on the last step. You've already done that one too many times, as there is a permanent mark left on your favorite pair of shoes.

Finally opening the door, you entered your humble abode with a grimace, chucking off your shoes to reach the kitchen table. You sat down grumpily, putting your elbows up onto the table when the sweet smell of baking filled your senses.

“Joong? Whatcha makin?” you playfully spoke. He was leaning against the counter across from you, his arms crossed and his eyebrow raised.

“What does it smell like?” he asked you.

You shrugged, breaking your stare to rest your head on the cold table. “I guess like cookies.”

Joong took a second to respond to you, and ran a hand through his rusty hair. It used to be a vibrant red—just like the leaves of the trees.

“Are you feeling alright?” he spoke softly, moving from his distant position to come a little closer, now leaning against the table. His arms held him up, and from your line of vision, you were able to see a few of his fingertips painted black. “Was it a bad day at the hospital?”

Sirens bellowed loudly from the street, as if on cue of the topic. You groaned and nodded. “God, yeah. There was so much….death. I mean, I thought I knew it was going to be bad but I never thought it was this bad.”

Hongjoong sighed, backing up to get the cookies out of the oven. “I have a question,” he said, his voice strained as he reached into the heat.

“Shoot.”

He set the tray down onto the stove, turning off the oven.

“Are you happy?”

His words made you raise your head, meeting his worry-filled gaze. You always hated the way he looked at you, it wasn't in the way you wanted. He always seemed so worried—like he was pitying you. He knew your whole life story, from how you were only raised by a grandmother that lived her life for you, to how you deal with the anxiety that breaks through you like a sickness. It hinders you to the point where you hide it from others, but joong—he knows everything.

You smiled at him, hiding your true colors because he always seemed to break down your walls. In truth, you were feeling anxiety all day—maybe it was the woman who reminded you of your grandmother today. The same woman you witnessed flatline with her granddaughter gripping her pale hand. You watched the young girl’s tears smack onto the linoleum, your heart aching and letting your own tears well up.

Your grandmother was all you had. Your parents passed away in a car accident together, the world taking them both away from you in the same night. You witnessed it from the backseat, the cracks of the windshield and the dark, pooling blood you wished wasn't your parents. It was some sort of miracle that you survived unscathed, but in your sweet grandmother’s words, you were an angel.

You didn't believe in any of that religious shit now, but maybe it was due to all your ups and downs. You didn't need to have some godly figure in your life to know that you were damned no matter what. So you lived your life in fits of anxiety and happiness, all swarming around you. Your anxiety made you believe that you didn't deserve that happiness, and the happiness made you believe you didn't deserve the anxiety.

And hongjoong? He was your happiness.

You sighed, remembering that he asked you a question long before your mind started wandering. You smiled, a real smile, right at him. “Yes, if you're here with me, I'm happy.”

He scoffed playfully, still directly across from you. The only thing in your way was the kitchen table, creating some sort of barrier with your feelings. You could just…walk around it and enter his world, touch his face, run your hands through his hair…

“Well I’m just checking up on my y/n,” he smiled, that beautiful smile of his. He pushed up his sleeves, and turned away from you to pick up a cookie off the tray. “Come here.”

You obeyed like a well-trained dog, making your way past that invisible barrier. He stood close to you, his eyes bright and sparkling as he looked down at you. “Open,” he said, and once again, you obeyed like you owed him your life.

You opened your mouth for him to give you a bite, his fingertips gliding against the corners of your mouth. You ate the cookie from his hold happily, and when he was going to pull away after it was gone, you suddenly gripped his wrist with your hand.

“What are you—”

“Shh. there's still some chocolate on your fingers,” you teased, looking into his eyes as you licked the tip of his fingers, trying your best to distract your horrible thoughts. Now your focus has moved to tease him, hoping to get a reaction out of him.

Your lips moved down onto his fingers, sucking on them until the taste of chocolate was dull. You shut your eyes, not able to see the look of lust radiating from hongjoong’s glare. It disappeared the moment you met his eyes again, and he let out a chuckle as you pulled back.

“You really like chocolate, huh?” he carried on, his eyes moving back and forth from your eyes to your hand gripping his wrist. His vision was hazy as he pulled out of your grip, moving to distract himself with something—anything. “I thought you preferred my gingerbread cookies?”

You nodded, looking at him up and down. “Yeah, but only around christmas time.”

“Ah,” he gulped, reaching for the small towel that was hanging from the oven door. He wiped his hands hastily, moving away from you towards his little study–converted into a studio. “I gotta go finish my song, alright? Why don't you eat more of the cookies?”

He shut the door of his studio room with aggression, leaving you in a warm, chocolatey kitchen with flour all over the floor. You smiled down at it, making you think about him spilling it and cursing like a sailor.

You loved him.

—

The week flew by, it was now mid-october. Your favorite season was slowly fading away with a blink of an eye, and you spent most of your autumn days cooped up in the emergency ward or your room, hiding from the sirens. Maybe this isn't for you, but once again—

You were too far in to quit, now. You loved it, you really did. You had that feeling–that ability—to save someone's life the way your parents’ lives could have been spared. You were doing a good thing, you couldn't handle the anxiety for the expense of someone's life.

You found yourself curled up in your cozy blanket in the corner of the couch, hongjoong sitting on the other side. He stared at you—watched your movements. He noticed everything about you, and knew when you were about to have an attack.

“y/n? Why don't you put on your favorite show?” he asked you, but it was more of a demand. When you stared at him blankly from your curled over position, he sighed and stood up to grab the remote from the coffee table. After turning on some cartoons that you loved, he left the room to grab a glass of water.

When he came back, you were sitting up straight, staring off toward the window, looking at how the raindrops fell. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Just a desperate breath for air. You fisted the blanket in your hands, holding back your shakes.

Hongjoong sat the cup of water down quickly, making his way over to you with a rush. He sat down next to you and wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. “Come on, angel. It's okay, I promise,” his voice echoed through your mind, your breathing getting unsteady and your hands twitching in your grip for them to stop. The feeling overwhelmed you—it was as if you were dying. His touch only helped a little in the heat of the moment, and he held you tightly as your body shaked.

You gasped for air, the tears of fear rolling down your cheeks. No matter how many times you go through these attacks, each time makes you feel like you wont make it through it. Hongjoong’s facial expression looked pained as he reached for your hands under the blanket, gripping them in his own so you weren't cutting crescents into your palms.

“Let's play the letter game, okay?” his head was still buried in your neck, his voice strong. “An animal. Okay? An animal that starts with A?”

You gulped, tearing into the skin of his hand with your nails. “A…animal?”

He chuckled, nodding. “Yes angel, an animal. What animal starts with the letter A?”

“Uh,” you breathed, the tears now staining his shirt. “A-ant eater?”

He pulled away from your neck, his free hand running down your cheek to catch the tears. “Good job. B?”

You took a second, panicking when you couldn't think of something. Hongjoong ran a hand through your hair as you shook, holding onto you tightly. “It's okay, I'll help you. Bear? Buffalo? You like buffalo sauce, right? You like the spice.”

You nodded, smiling at his efforts. He did this with such love in his eyes that you could have sworn he was in love with you. That he cared for you this deeply.

He smiled, brightening up your heart. “Good, good. Now C?”

“Cat.”

“Wonderful,” he cooed, running a hand down your arm. He carried on through the alphabet, until he reached H.

“Hongjoong,” you smiled, finally feeling a bit more like yourself and not some mummy locked in its own body.

He laughed melodically, causing your smile to brighten even more. “I’m not an animal,” he teased, pulling you to his chest and running a hand down your back. “Are you feeling better?”

You nodded, your hand tremors dying down. Hongjoong didn't let go of your hand yet, still holding onto you as tight as he could.

“I just want to take it all away,” he whispered softly, his lips near your ear. Little did he know that he did take the pain away. He was the source of your happiness—you needed him.

“You do,” you hummed back raspily, your heart on your sleeve as he kept you close to him. “You do take the pain away.”

He sighed, kissing your temple with such softness, you crumbled in his hold.

“I don't think it's enough.”

You didn't say anything after that. He did let go of you reluctantly after you said you needed the water, but the minute you finished drinking it, he was back to holding you, his head against yours as silence enveloped you both in the darkness of the room.

You were certain friends don't kiss each other like that.

—

The next week of October came—the week before halloween. This time, you felt better than last week. The constant presence of dressing up as something this year was heavy on your chest, knowing your colleagues have invited you to a party. You have yet to ask hongjoong to join you, as you wouldn't dare show your face alone.

You took a day off on the first day of the week, hongjoong sick as a dog and your heart aching for him.

You brewed some hot tea and fixed him up a bowl of his favorite soup, caring for him the same way he catered to you. The thing was that he denied it most of the time, leaving you standing alone with your heart in your hands, ready to give it to him.

You set the bowl of soup on a tray you normally used as decor, spilling it slightly that the wood of the tray darkened. You rolled your eyes at your clumsiness, and then set the mug of tea on the stained wood.

Making your way up the thin, creaky townhouse stairs, you reached his room at the end of the hallway. He left the door open a crack, inviting you in at any given moment. So you entered the sunlit room, his curtains pulled back and his head hidden under the duvet. All you could see of him was his little wave of orange hair and a foot peeking from the cover.

“Joongie,” you cooed, cautiously entering his abode with nervousness. You knew him for ages, took care of him for ages, but everytime you got close to him, you felt your chest get heavy. Almost as if something was pushing you down. “Are you awake?”

He groaned something inaudible, tossing around in the bed until half of his body was out of the covers. He was shirtless, his smooth, slightly toned stomach glistening with sweat. You sighed, collecting your dirty thoughts.

You set the tray down on his nightstand, pushing aside the cough medicine and dirty tissues you would clean up after. Little pumpkin was sitting at the foot of the bed, watching your every move.

“I have dinner for you,” you hummed, reaching over to him, but pausing at his unclothed body. It was as if you were a feral animal—you wanted to devour him.

You ignored the instinct and pulled up the covers.

“What is it? I’m not hungry,” he groaned groggily, his eyes barely opening. He let out a cough, and it made you want to take his sickness away.

“You need to eat, you haven't eaten all day.”

He sighed, pushing himself up on the bed, revealing his body after you concealed it. He leaned up against his headboard, sniffling. His eyes were sunken in and his lips were pale, but you still thought he was the most beautiful being in the world.

You wanted to kiss away his chapped lips.

“Soup?” he said raspily, looking over at his night stand. He went to reach for it, but nearly spilled the tray.

You grabbed the bowl, and went to sit on the edge of the bed, next to his sweating frame. He definitely still had a fever. “Here, take it while I take your temp.”

He grabbed the soup out of your hold, his warm fingers brushing against yours. He didn't hesitate when you leaned over him, but you heard his breaths get shallow when you brushed away the hairs off his face to place your hand on his forehead. “Stay away from me,” he blinked at you, and even though his words seemed harsh, it was all out of love. “You’ll get sick. I don't want you to get sick.”

“I’d rather be sick than watch you suffer,” you smiled at him, your eyes lingering on his chapped lips for a moment too long. “You look better than you did this morning.”

He swallowed a spoonful of the soup, shutting his eyes tight as the warm liquid coated his sore throat.

“Thank you,” he said. It was only an acknowledgement in words, but his eyes pierced through yours as you sat inches away from him. He meant it, but you were too involved to read between the lines of his breaths.

He breathed for you.

You stood up to leave him peace, but your breath hitched as his warm hand reached your thigh, causing you to look down at it cautiously.

“Don't—” he paused, lifting his grip and moving to set down the bowl of soup. “Don't go.”

You didn't let the smile creep up onto your lips. “I thought you didn't want me to get sick?” you instigated, but nonetheless moved further onto the bed, holding onto his overheating frame with all the love in the world.

“I don't, but I want to be selfish today,” he coughed, nuzzling his head into you. His lips were pressed to your neck, sending chills down your spine. Your fingertips caressed his bare skin, hoping to take away his sickness.

You held him until the sun went down, thinking that was enough for him.

Feeling as though he was sleeping, you tried to pull yourself out of his grip, to which he pulled you to him even tighter. Now your faces were an inch apart as you both lied on the bed, his hot breaths tickling your lips.

“Where are you going?” he asked you.

“Nowhere,” you smiled, looking into his tired eyes. You leaned forward, resting your head against his. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed in contentment, letting out a breath as his arms tightened around you. He didn't speak—he just looked at you with hearts in his eyes.

“Don't leave me,” he whispered.

You ran a hand through his messy hair. “I won't, I won't.”

He fell asleep in your arms, all while your mind kept you up the whole night. You knew this isn't what normal friends do—but this is how you were together, which was normal for you.

You got sick the day after.

—

On the third day of the week before halloween, you both were finally feeling better. He seemed back to normal, but you still had a slight sore throat that made you not want to eat. Hongjoong insisted the same way you made him eat the soup, and he cooked up your favorite pasta meal.

“You need to eat,” he muttered, using tongs to place a scoop of pasta onto a plate. You sat across from him at the table, your head in your hands.

“I have a splitting headache,” you groaned, lifting your head up to catch the glimmer in hongjoong's caring glance.

He handed you the full plate, your nose filled with the delicious scent. “I’ll get you some medicine.”

“I’m fine, joongie,” you mumbled with a rasp, twirling your pasta around in your fork, but not lifting it up into your mouth. You stared at the thin noodles that dangled from the metal, distracted as the sauce splattered onto the plate. Hongjoong watched you, an eyebrow raised and his lip curled up.

He sat down across from you. “I uh…is there a hair in it or something?” he asked you, but a joking smile dawned on his face. “If there is, still eat it. I won't do take-backs.”

“Awe, how kind,” you chuckled, finally lifting the fork up to eat the delicious pasta. You closed your eyes as the taste filled your senses, opening them to see the look Hongjoong was giving you.

“You look pretty today,” he acknowledged, his eyes dancing around your features. He blinked at you, waiting for you to brush it off.

Boom boom.

Your heart picked up its pace. “Don't lie, joong. It doesn't suit you.”

He rolled his eyes, resting his head in his hands as he stared at you. Your phone buzzed with a text message from your work friend, which reminded you about something that happened earlier during the day.

“Oh,” you muttered with a mouthful of food. “Some guy asked for my number today,” you took another bite.

Hongjoong tilted his head at you, and then moved his gaze to his own plate of food, grabbing his fork to stab the noodles. “Oh really?”

You nodded, swallowing the food as he glared down at his own. “Yeah. he was cute. What was his name….uh, yun..yunho? Super tall, let me tell you. It was like staring up at a skyscraper—”

Hongjoong interrupted you with a loud scoff, accidentally screeching his fork against the plate. “Did you give him your number, though?” he asked you, acting as if you didn't.

You studied him for a moment, feeling confused. He seemed to care more than he should. You honestly gave the cute skyscraper your number, but you didn't have a thought in your mind about actually texting him back.

You shrugged, playing with him a little bit. “Yeah, I did,” is all you said, smiling to yourself. You were sure hongjoong thought you were smiling about yunho, when in reality you were smiling for him. “He was too cute to reject.”

At that, Hongjoong’s fork clanked onto the plate, causing you to jump and look at him. He looked mad—too mad. You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling like you hit a nerve.

“Joong? What's wrong?”

He laughed devilishly, his eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly open. “So what? Are you gonna go on a date with him or something?”

You knew you were pushing his buttons a little too far, but you furrowed your brows at his unusual behavior.

You leaned forward, setting your own fork down. “Hey,” you narrowed your gaze while he practically had smoke coming out of his ears. “Are you jealous? Should I not date him?”

He blinked at you, and looked down at your lips for a second.

“No.” is all he said.

“He seems like a good fuck. Should just fuck him silly instead and—”

“y/n I swear to god,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair aggressively. “I, uh. Fuck,” he hissed, unable to look at you. “Thanks for the image.”

You frowned jokingly. “Ah, I see. You were visualizing me getting fucked?” you smirked, knowing you were taking it way too far. “Do you want to watch? Or join?”

You reached your arm out, sensually touching his fisted hand. You ran your fingertips in circles around his hand, a smirk on your lips.

He pulled back and stood up abruptly, causing the chair to squeak against the floor. “I-i have to go—I mean, I have a song to write…I uh…” he coughed, glancing at you for one minute and then storming out of the room, leaving you all alone with cold pasta and a frown on your face.

He didn't show his face to you that whole night.

—

Two days later; it was a friday. You had to go to campus early in the morning to listen to a required lecture, which ended up by you sitting next to hongjoong on the commuter bus.

He sat stiffly, his knee bumping into yours occasionally whenever the bus hit a pothole. You couldn't lie, you wanted him to stay touching you.

Ever since two nights ago when you brought up fucking someone and having him watch, he acted distant with you. You felt bad, hoping you didn't make him too uncomfortable with an image he probably never wanted to see in the first place.

Joong leaned against the cold bus window, looking out at the leaves that matched his hair. In his ears sat wired earbuds, attached to the jack of his phone. You leaned your shoulder into him, looking down at his hands in his lap.

No words were spoken. He lifted his head to look over at you, and after a moment, he sighed, and handed you the earbud closest to you.

“Here,” he hummed, barely audible.

You took it wordlessly, putting it in your ear to hear the soft strum of a guitar. You didn't recognize the song, but you felt the emotion fill through the little speaker, breaking through your heart. You always loved how he would share his favorite things with you, even if he was upset with you.

“I’m sorry, joongie,” you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn't say anything; maybe he was waiting for you to continue. “I shouldn't have said those things the other day.”

He mumbled something you couldn't decipher, but then nodded shortly. “It's not something to apologize for. I’m sorry I ignored you the whole night.”

You looked at his hands. He was rubbing his knuckles anxiously, so you reached out to hold them. He jumped slightly, and you gave him a side eye.

He eventually settled with your hands on top of his, and your head against his shoulder. You listened to his whole playlist—and his heartbeat—until you had to leave.

—

The same night, you brought up the halloween party.

“I need you to come with me,” you said, your eyes pleading.

He sat next to you on the couch, pumpkin sleeping adorably in his criss-crossed lap. “Why don't you take the skyscraper?” he said blatantly, his expression unreadable. He held a bottle of soju in one of his hands and had the tv remote in the other.

Was he actually jealous? At this point, he hasn't been himself since you told him about Yunho, who you didn't even know his last name.

You looked over at him, as he was paying strict attention to finding a movie. You began to overthink like you always do, convincing yourself that Hongjoong doesn't want anything to do with you.

“Do you still want to be friends with me?” you ignored his question about yunho, now feeling a bit unstable.

He noticed the shake in your voice, and sat up straight. He finally looked over at you, his eyes softening.

“y/n,” he sighed, setting the remote down. “Of course I do. Don't worry about me leaving you.”

Your gaze shot right through him. “But…you just seem off. Ever since I joked about….you know,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “It's something you probably had no intention of visualizing, so I feel bad—”

“No, uh,” he gulped, looking anywhere but you. “It wasn't that…”

You raised your eyebrows. “Huh? Really? What was it then?”

He looked deep in thought—and a little nervous. You wanted the words that came out of his mouth to be a love confession, something straight out of a movie. You knew it wasn't going to turn out that way, but you couldn't stop your heart from beating out of your chest.

“I just,” he paused, afraid to look over at you. “I just worry about you. I want the best for you.”

Ouch, that wasn't a confession.

Come on, hongjoong. How hard is it to say, “Oh, y/n, I love you. I’ve loved you ever since I met you?”

You hid your dissatisfaction with a smile. “I can hold my own, joongie. I may be the most anxious person alive, but I can still meet guys.”

“I know you're capable, it's not you,” he admitted, looking a bit embarrassed as he shook the bottle of soju. “It's them. The guys. You deserve the world and I don't know what I would do if a guy took it all away.”

You sat and stared as he finally picked a movie—the nightmare before christmas. It wasn't your favorite, but something about it reminded you of Hongjoong. After it started playing, he tossed the remote onto the coffee table.

“I appreciate that you care,” you told him softly, looking down at your hands in your lap. “But you don't have to worry about guys.”

You sat in silence for a little, your heartbeat finally slowing down. He scooted closer and closer to you until pumpkin jumped out of his lap angrily. He saw that as an excuse to stand up and finally plop down next to you, his shoulder brushing yours.

“You’re special to me, y/n,” is all he said as he rested his head on your shoulder, cuddling up to you under the warm, cozy blanket.

—

Tonight was the party. You were rooting through your closet, tossing things at hongjoong, who sat on your bed among the pile of clothes.

“We're being pirates, right? I’m sorry, but I doubt you have pirate shit in that closet of yours.” He teased, lifting up a shirt from the pile to fold it.

Maybe you should have planned this better.

“I have to have my corset in here somewhere,” you ignored him, knowing you were just going to toss on a slutty ass dress and put the corset on over it. “Hongjoong come here, will you?”

You heard him let out an ungodly sigh as he stomped over to you, kneeling right next to you. “What am I supposed to wear?”

“Hongjoong you literally have every possible article of clothing in your closet.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Shush.”

He stayed quiet then, and after a moment, he started to root with you. After a bunch of irritated sighs and groans, hongjoong found your corset.

“This?” he raised an eyebrow playfully. You reached out to grab it, only for him to stand up and back away from you. “Come and get it.”

“We don't have time for this, joong,” you groaned, but still stood up and followed him. He was cackling as you tried to jump for it, standing on his tip-toes as if he thought of himself as a giant. You moved forward, lunging at him with full force, which sent you tumbling down onto the smooth comforter of your bed.

You landed on top of him, his warmth radiating through you. Your hips met his hips, and something stirred inside of you. His lips were inches from yours, his hands over his head and his eyes wide.

You felt more of him than you should, but you didn't want to move. You wanted to invade his space forever—if it were a job, you’d be a professional.

He didn't say anything—he looked up through the sea of your hair, his gaze resting on your lips. He frowned, and you wondered what he was thinking.

You wanted to reach out to him. To hold him right here, forever. You wanted him to be yours and only yours.

You studied the shapes of his face, similar to how an artist evaluates their subject. He had to be sculpted by a god or something, with the way his lips curve just right, and with the compelling wonder that swirled in his eyes.

Before it got too weird, you pushed yourself up despite the ache to become one with him, and you ripped the corset out of his hands. “Thanks,” you coughed, and he still didn't move from his position on the bed.

He stared up at the ceiling—the ceiling you decorated with those tacky glow in the dark stars. The room was dimly lit from the warm-toned lamp that sat on your dresser, right next to your pile of anatomy textbooks.

You both listened to silence for a while, Hongjoong now sitting up after a few long moments. You found the dress you wanted to wear, and gave him a look.

“I’m gonna change, so if you want to see every part of me, you're welcome to stay.” you muttered, your fingertips on the waistband of your leggings. He looked at your hands, his eyes growing darker.

He raked his eyes all over your clothed body. You wondered about what he was thinking—did he want to rip the clothes off of you? Did he want to stay and watch?

Your curiosity ended when he stood up slowly. “Come help me with my outfit then. After you change, of course.”

A small fraction of your heart caved in as the door shut behind him, but the ache for him remained standing.

You slid off your clothes, wishing your hands were his.

—

You waltzed into the party, which was at your colleague, yeosang’s place. He was born with old money, and it showed through the exquisite taste of his home. He was nowhere to be found though—which was normal. He wasn't exactly sociable. The one who took it by the wheel was his best friend wooyoung, who seemed like he would embody a party.

“I didn't pregame enough,” Hongjoong gulped as he stared at the strangers around the home, some guzzling alcohol from bongs and others simply conversing with each other. On the other hand, there were a bunch of people blowing big puffs of hazy marijuana smoke, and others snorting shit that you never touched before.

Joong shivered. “Aren't you guys like…medical students?” He raised an eyebrow, his one eye covered with an eye patch and his other one wide. “You have to know that snorting cocaine is not beneficial to your health.”

You slapped his shoulder, feeling out of this world already. Maybe you shouldn't have slammed those shots. “Whatever. Lets go get fucked up so i don't have to remember this tomorrow,” you wrapped your arm in his, pulling him into the grand kitchen that had a chandelier dangling from the vaulted ceiling.

“I think you’re blown out enough, to be honest.”

You reached in the cooler to grab a bottle of some sort of alcohol you didn't recognize. “I’m guessing this shit is like millions of dollars,” you shrugged, handing it off to the pirate you called hongjoong.

He looked fine as hell in his own corset, brown leather wrapping around that thin waist of his. He had on a half-unbuttoned white button down, pulled up at the elbows. His pants were tight, leaving your mind wandering back to earlier when your hips bucked against his. His rusty hair was hidden under a bandana that matched your dress, with flakes of greens and dustings of gold.

“y/n? Hello?” he snapped his fingers in front of your face, his one eye piercing into yours. “You zoned out for a minute.”

“Ah, oh sorry,” you sighed, looking down at your own outfit. Your dress was flowy, but only reached about mid-thigh, showing leg and tits at the same time. Your legs were covered in fishnets, and you noticed many partygoers staring at them.

You reached into the cooler to grab yourself a drink, guzzling it like water. Hongjoong watched, and then did the same. You both pulled away at the same time, expressions matching like twins as you scrunched your eyebrows.

“Thats strong as fuck,” he hissed, but still drank the rest of the bottle since thats what you were doing. His eyes locked on you as you finished the last drop, and you reached for another. “Yo, slow down. You downed like five shots of vodka earlier.”

You rolled your eyes, finally feeling like yourself. You loved the feeling of being drunk—you felt like you could finally be the person you were under the surface. The person without anxiety. The person who didn't have to hide how to feel.

“You know,” you hummed, setting down the second bottle onto the gold counter. You approached him, your hands finding the collar of his unbuttoned shirt. You watched him swallow hard, his Adam's apple bobbing—you wanted to lick it. “Did I ever tell you how hot you are?”

Hongjoong’s eyes—eye— widened at your words, and set his hands on your elbows to pull you off of him. “You’re obliterated and we weren't even here for five minutes.”

“I’m not,” you rolled your eyes, pulling out of his grip and grabbing his arms now.

He didn't even get to say what he wanted to say as the skyscraper himself came up to you, bending his head down slightly to see if it was you.

“y/n?” His tone of voice was smooth and cool, your name rolling off his tongue with ease.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, moving your attention away from hongjoong. “Skyscraper!”

He laughed, looking from you to hongjoong with a confused glance. “She must be drunk, she’s usually quiet at work,” yunho said to hongjoong, not expecting the glare of death to radiate from his single eye.

“Oh no, she’s loud and obnoxious at home,” Hongjoong growled, reaching out to steady you.

The tall vampire tilted his head at the pirate, a smirk on those full lips. “Home?” he inquired, looking at you with that same smirk. You glanced up at him with a smile, not purposely ignoring your roommate. You were just a teensy bit drunk—call it tipsy—and you were fascinated with the red contacts in Yunho's eyes.

“Did you change your eye color?” you asked him in all seriousness, looking over at the cooler filled with alcohol with longingness. Hongjoong scoffed at your words, and couldn't stop you as you reached out to touch Yunho's face, which remained in a smirk as your fingertips brushed against his skin. “Even your skin is sparkly.”

“You never answered me,” he hummed lowly, hongjoong feeling like the third wheel now. The vampire leaned down towards your face, a lustful smile on his lips. “About that date?”

Hongjoong had enough. He muttered a goodbye, but you weren't able to hear it.

“Hmmm…” you clicked your tongue, tapping your chin slowly. “I’m sorry, count dracula. I have someone in my heart already,” you proudly proclaimed.

He smiled despite the rejection, his white teeth bright under the dim lighting. “I’m guessing it’s that one-eyed pirate, hm?” he asked, but he knew the answer.

“Yep. even though he’s a little bitch sometimes,” you bowed to him then, lifting your gaze to meet his red eyes. “Sorry again.”

He nodded with a smirk. “Well your pirate just ran off somewhere, so you better go find him before he thinks something different.”

You might have been a bit out of it, but you knew enough that yunho was a good sport. He walked away before you could say anything else, leaving you all alone in a sea of people. You recognized some faces, like wooyoung and some guy named yeonjun from the general surgery department who hit on you during a surgical lesson. You surveyed the scene, meeting eyes with some random men who kept looking even when you moved your gaze.

You grabbed another drink from the cooler, flipping the cap off and dumping its contents into your mouth. After the rush of warmth hit your body, you pushed through the bodies of people in search of your person.

“Anyone see another pirate?” you yelled to no one in particular. “He has orange hair and a pretty face. Has one eye and—Oh, he’s kinda short too. Like a little leprechaun.”

Now you were just blabbing into nothingness as your vision split. You know damn well your alcohol tolerance was scarily low, but you still got yourself fucked up to the point of no coming back.

You weren't sure where you were going, but you found yourself outside now, behind the extravagant mansion. You stood on the patio, shivering from the lack of clothing and cool autumn air.

You looked out towards the yard, intricately covered in plants and flowers. If you were sober, you’d call it a garden. For now, it was just a pile of vegetation.

“Joongie! You yelled loudly, as if he was going to suddenly fly out of the bushes to greet you. There was no one around—not even a bug. “Joong? Pirate king? Captain—”

“You’re too loud,” his sweet voice filled your eardrums, but it sounded dull—like he was irritated. “Why don't you go entertain that vampire?”

“Because…” you drawled out, turning towards him in the ocean of flowers. You stood in the middle of a surreal garden, but it was too dark to see the colors. There was a small lamppost above you, only coloring a quarter of the flowers in your view. “Because I want my pirate.”

His eye studied you for a moment, and then he sighed, leaning up against the post. “Y/n, I—”

“Shh,” you whispered, drunkenly leaning up against him, unable to tear your drunken eyes from his lips. “You have something on your lip,” you hummed, the pads of your fingers brushing against his soft lips. There was nothing there; you just wanted to touch them.

“ah-ah-Okay, I think you got it—”

“ —I want to kiss you,” you whined, crushing your head against his chest. You heard his heart race as you touched him. “I want to kiss you so bad.”

He stiffened underneath you, his arms at his sides as you held onto him. “You're drunk.”

“I know, but I want to kiss you even when I’m sober,” you lifted your head up, frowning when you only saw one eye. You brushed your fingers against the soft skin of his face, gripping onto the eye-patch softly. “And I want to see your pretty eyes.”

He kept quiet and still, letting you lift the eye-patch over his head, your hazy gaze meeting his starstruck one. Your hand didn't leave his face even after the patch was gone, and he just stood there with all the love in the world in his gaze.

You leaned forward, slowly, carefully, and met your lips with his. You gripped his shirt, your knuckles turning white and your eyes shut tight. He finally snaked an arm around your waist, parting your mouth open with his own. He kissed you hungrily, as if he couldn't hold back even if he wanted to. It felt like ecstasy, two worlds colliding. You now felt like you could tell the colors of the flowers—you felt like you could do anything.

And once he gripped the back of your head to deepen the kiss, you woke up drenched in more than sweat, your clothes missing and your hair like a halo around your head.

What the fuck?

—

Was it all a dream? Did you even go to that party? Did you…did you even get to kiss Hongjoong?

You looked under the covers to see the same underwear you put on before the party—paired with the matching bra. You felt drenched to your core, dreaming about something—

“You're awake,” hongjoong gave you a weird glance as he walked into your room to toss you a hoodie of his. “Put this on.”

“Where are my clothes?” you asked with an eyebrow raised. “Did we…”

He stopped in his tracks, looking at you like a deer in headlights. “Did we what? Fuck?” he scoffed, turning away to walk out of your room. “No. and I took your clothes off because you threw up all over them.”

“So, did we actually go to the party?” you barely spoke, gripping the blanket tightly in your hands. “I had this weird dream…”

He swallowed hard and nodded, turning back to you but not meeting your eyes. “Yeah, we went.”

So you blacked out? Or was your dream possibly real?

He left the room then, leaving you all alone in a mess of yourself—and your thoughts.

After a bit of time wallowing in your own self-pity, you managed to leave your comfortable hiding spot you called a room to go downstairs, where hongjoong had a bowl of hangover soup ready for you on the table. He was nowhere to be seen, though, so you assumed he was out doing something or in his little makeshift studio.

Telling yourself it was all a dream so you wouldn't get your hopes up, you plopped down onto the chair to eat. You stared down at the soup, swirling it around with the spoon like you’ve never seen it before, your mind everywhere else but the idea of eating.

Eventually you raised the spoon to your mouth, but the thoughts of hongjoong didn't subside. He was the reason you wanted to keep on living in this god-forsaken world, and you couldn't risk the possibility of ruining your friendship. You decided to not speak of your dream, or even express your feelings, for the sake of keeping him by your side.

After you finished your breakfast, you tip-toed through the creaky floors to peek and see if Joong was in his hideout. As soon as you saw the rush of orange hair, you smiled, and left him alone. Pumpkin was staring at you through the glass window, lying comfortably on the plush carpet he had.

You walked away then, tossing on your jacket and a pair of shoes, and made your way to the convenience store around the corner. You didn't want to interrupt Hongjoong’s focus just to tell him that you wanted some banana milk.

You left him in peace, not knowing that he was going to worry about where you went.

—

You walked slowly towards your townhouse, watching the leaves land on the sidewalk. Some leaves even left imprints on the pavement, greenish-hues as the remnant of when they once lived.

Halloween was right around the corner. The party was over. You kissed the love of your life—in a dream, of course. It seemed like the world was moving so fast, as if you had no time to hold on as it moved.

You swung the door open, finding hongjoong in panic mode, his hand in his hair and the other one gripping his phone.

Your eyes widened. “Joong?” you tilted your head, slipping off your shoes before moving further. “Everything alright?”

He let out a sigh of relief, dropping his hands to his sides. “I didn't know where you went. You didn't answer your phone.”

You frowned, patting the pockets of your hoodie—hongjoongs hoodie. “Oh? I must've forgotten it.”

He scoffed as you walked past him to reach the fridge. You emptied the bag, putting the banana milk into the fridge and pulling out the cheap, single rose the store had at the register.

“You don't know how worried I was,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes in irritation. “You can't just leave without saying anything, I thought you were kidnapped.”

You chuckled softly, smiling to yourself that he cared. The smile began to drop, though, as you began to think it was only platonic—and that's all it will ever be.

You turned around to face him, a forced smile on your face. “Here,” you said, handing him the nearly-dead red rose that had a slightly bent stem.

He looked down at the token of affection, confusion washing over his features. “A r-rose?” he stuttered slightly, eyes meeting yours. “For me?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, taking a step closer to him.

“Why?” he inquired, his eyes searching yours for any type of answer.

You gathered what you wanted to say, swallowing hard. “Because you're my best friend. I never want to lose our friendship.”

You saw his hesitation then. It was as if you said something hurtful, but all you spoke was the truth. He let out a little laugh, and reached out to grab the decaying flower.

His fingers brushed against yours, sending chills down your spine. The minute your skin made contact with his, you replayed the kiss you shared in dreamland, hoping that if you kept thinking about it, it would come true.

“Ah, Best friend…” he smiled—almost sadly—and inspected the rose. “Thank you.”

You sniffed, feeling like you just ruined something. But there was nothing there to begin with. You nodded, and turned on your heels.

“I uh, I’m going out then,” he spoke up, his hands feeling the petals.

You stopped, looking down at your bare feet. “Oh really? Where?”

He paused. “With friends.”

You nodded, but didn't turn around. “Have fun.”

He didn't say anything else, and just let you trudge up the stairs. Your heart felt like it was about to crumble, and without reason. Nothing changed, nothing was broken. You said the truth, he told you he was going out. A typical day in your household.

So why did it feel like your world just ended?

—

Days fly by. Hongjoong ended up coming home the next morning that day, and without a word, he locked himself up in his studio.

It was halloween. You felt like it was pointless now, unable to connect to your hongjoong like you never had a connection in the first place. As if you didn't spend every waking moment together. Birthdays, holidays.

You stood in front of your full length mirror, critiquing every single angle of your body. You knew deep down you were beautiful; some days you just saw everything wrong all at once. You stood there, lost, alone, and still thinking of hongjoong like he was living in your mind.

And one day, you’ll watch hongjoong leave, causing life to lose all its meaning.

You sighed, pulling your jeans up slightly to button them. You slid a t-shirt over your bra, feeling like you waited for this day for nothing. You felt numb—like the anticipation was worth nothing. You slid on a pair of festive socks, finally getting your bare feet off the cold, wooden floors.

It was still early—not even noon. Usually you’d be at work and joong would be at school, but you were both home, locked away in your rooms, acting like you don't exist. Well, you didn't want it to play out this way—you wanted to run into his arms, tell him you love him, and bury him in kisses in the halloween haze.

You had no plans, despite it being the night of the year for you. The party was over, your heart was aching, and you felt like you could crumble to the ground like an old building. It was just one of those days that you didn't feel like yourself—and what better time than the night you're supposed to be anything but true.

After grabbing a hat to keep your ears warm, you waltzed your way down the hallway, only to cause hongjoong to peek out of his doorway. He looked tired.

“Where are you going?” he asked you softly, his voice scratching your brain just right.

You didn't realize you were picking at your fingers until he looked down at them. You put your hands at your sides, and looked up at him. “To go get candy for the tick-or-treaters tonight,” you hummed as a response, staring into his gaze, getting lost in it for a moment too long.

He looked at your outfit, his eyes examining you the same way you looked at yourself—however, he wasn't critiquing. He was admiring. No matter what you wore, he looked at you like you were made of gold.

He nodded, tearing his gaze away from your eyes. “Okay.”

You turned around after it felt too awkward, feeling as though something was ruining your relationship. There was no warmth, no comfort. It all happened after you gave him that rose, holding back your feelings like he held back his tears.

Time passed like the world was spinning too fast, and you went on with your day as if it was any other day.

When you came back from the store, you poured the candy into a cute little serving bowl, stealing a chocolate bar like you were a kid again. A part of your soul ached as you stared down at the bowl, thinking about the days when you were the one grabbing the handfuls and eating too much candy. Back to the time when life was simple.

Hongjoong was in his studio, and you heard the dull vibrations of his voice. He was singing like he always did, but this time, you wanted him to sing for you.

You ignored it as best as you could and forced yourself to dress up in a slightly more modest pirate outfit, and after the sun began to set, you found yourself sitting outside on your porch alone. Bundled up in a blanket and a mug of hot tea in your hand, you waited patiently for the kids to come around for the candy.

Sirens blared loudly, an ambulance passing the street in front of you. You watched as the bright reds and whites reflected off the windows of the houses around you, and how the wind from it knocked more leaves to fall to their death.

You watched them crumble to the ground in front of you, small little feet stepping on them as they walked by your home. One little girl came up to you, her little shoes crunching the decaying life underneath them, and you looked up to her from your seated position.

“Trick or treat?” she asked you, her face covered in paint and her smile as bright as can be.

“Take a handful,” you murmured, forcing a smile onto your pirate persona. She smiled at you and tossed the candy into her bag, and you were too distracted to hear the door open behind you. The only sign was the brightened look on the girl’s face as she looked behind you.

“Another pirate?” she mumbled, dimples showing through her scarecrow face paint. “Is he your boyfriend?”

You hesitated, but shook your head. “Oh, no. He's just my friend.”

Hongjoong forced out a chuckle, and came up to sit next to you. “Happy Halloween,” he smiled, his leg bumping yours. You didn't shy away, but you didn't move any closer.

As the girl left, you sat in silence with hongjoong for what felt like ages. You smelled alcohol on his breath, wearing his mask like normal. You were dying to know his true feelings about everything. You lived with him for years, but yet, he knew everything about you and you knew very little about him.

A few more kids stopped, grabbed some candy, and left. As if the time flew by once again, the bowl was empty, and so was your heart.

“I have to go use the bathroom,” you let him know as you stood up. He looked from you to the empty bowl, but made no effort to come inside with you.

“Okay,” he nodded, not looking in your direction. You left his presence, needing some air.

You walked towards the bathroom that was past his studio until you noticed the door open. Pumpkin was sitting on a pile of papers, and knowing how finicky your hongjoong was, you quickly entered the sacred grounds to get the cat off the pile. With your luck, you startled pumpkin, causing her to let out a scared yelp and leap off the pile, knocking over all the sheets at once.

You let out a gasp, followed by a groan, as you quickly tried to pick up the papers. That is, until you came across some lyrics of what it looked like a song…

A song for a lover?

It was titled, halloween, and as your eyes ran across the words on the page, a few stood out. Words like roommate, coffee, watching movies, hugs, dinner, and home. His home was her. His home was with her, his love was for her.

You were his…home? His love?

“Put that down,” Hongjoong growled behind you, but his tone of voice wasn't harsh—it was defeated. “It’s nothing special.”

“I think otherwise, joong,” you murmured softly, still reading the lyrics as they made your heart race. “Is this about…me?”

He came up beside you, his face right next to yours. He ripped the paper out of your hands and held it behind his back as you turned to him. “Yeah,” he breathed, but shook his head. “But it means nothing now, okay? So don't misunderstand—”

“Can you sing it for me?”

He stared at you, wide eyed. You both were in your pirate garb, his one eye covered by the eye-patch. You thought back to your dream of lifting it up, kissing him, holding onto him….

He didn't say much. He just stared for a while, unsure about your motives. Clearly you made it known that he was just a friend to you, but little did he know that you wanted everything under the sun with him.

He sighed, and sat down onto his bench in front of the keyboard. As his painted fingers slid across the keys, he started to sing to the lyrics that were meant for you. He bled through the words, telling the story of you and him, sharing a space, and putting on masks. It was halloween, the song was called halloween, and he sang with all the love in the world to you.

It had to be a dream. There was no way he was sitting in front of you, tipsy, and proclaiming his years-long love for you through a song. It was unreal, and when he stopped singing and turned to you, you saw the concern drip off his face as he looked at your expression.

He swallowed hard, standing up to face you. “Listen, don't think much of it. Like I said, it’s worthless now and—”

You gripped the back of his head and kissed him, holding him tightly as he stood stoically. After a few moments, you pulled away, leaving his lips a mess of red from your lipstick. “I–I’m sorry. That was a little—”

He took a step forward, like you were his prey. Gripping your arm, he pulled you to him, his lips on yours with no spare of a glance. Your hands found their home in his hair, gently sliding off his eye patch with your fingers. You kissed each other as if it was your last—as if this would only last the night.

You pulled back, resting your forehead on his as his hot breath kissed your features.

“I…what does this make us?” you gulped, counting his breaths, happy that he was living at the same time as you. “Its…its halloween…we can be, you know,” you got distracted as his gentle hands caressed your arm. “We can be anything.”

He smiled at you, love dripping from his gaze. He kept his hold tight on you, and mumbled his answer into your head.

“I’ll be whatever you want,” he breathed into you, and you found yourself melting into his hold.

His lips, his hands, his breath—everything collided. Two became one once again as he kissed you, kissed you so hard that you lost your breath. Your hands meshed within the rust of his hair, your fingertips painted in orange. His tongue met the roof of your mouth the same way your hands gripped at him, repeating his words over and over in your mind.

Whatever you want…

I’ll be whatever you want…

He lifted you up then, holding onto your body tightly to set you onto his desk, knocking off all his music sheets and crumbled up papers. His finger nails pierced against the bare skin of your thighs, his lips now on your neck as you fiddled with the buttons on his shirt.

He let out a moan as your fingers grazed his chest, finally pulling his shirt off his body to admire him. You let out a content sigh, wanting to taste the soju on his lips. Not yet, though, as his hands gripped the corset you were wearing, untying the laces and ripping it off your body, slightly rough but his touch was smooth.

You sat on his desk, ready for him to claim you as his own. Even if it was just for the night, you weren't thinking long term as his strong arms pulled your dress right over your head, leaving you only in your underwear.

“My god, I always wanted to do that,” he groaned, his lips meeting your neck as his hands trailed down your stomach to meet the waistband of your underwear. As his fingers slipped underneath the fabric, you arched your back into his touch.

“You like that, huh?” he whispered in your ear as you looked down at the bulge of his pants, seizing the opportunity to get him flustered. “You turn me the fuck on, you have no idea, y/n.”

Your hands brushed his erection, a sinister smile on hongjoongs pained face. He smacked his head into yours, his teeth bright white as he showed them. “Careful, baby. I’ve been waiting years to fuck you. I don't want it to end too quick.”

“Years?” you breathed into his lips your head tilted up as his hand found its home and started to slide the underwear down your hips.

He didn't answer. What he did do was pull them down your legs, and then as soon as they were off, he kneeled down onto the ground in front of you, treating you like a peasant would treat his goddess. His lips met your heat, the warmth from his breath stirring your mind into mush. You gripped his russet hair, fisting it as his tongue slipped inside you. You hissed, throwing your head back as you saw stars.

He worked magic, his lips becoming something you never wanted to lose. Eventually, he found his place above you, his fingers tilting your head back to look up at him. His hands reached out to pull your bra off, giving you a look of affirmation before gently lifting it over your head.

He stood in front of you, vulnerability showing through like sunlight through a window. He was your sun—your warmth—your love.

No words were spoken after that. You unbuttoned his pants while he kissed your lips, entangled in each other's love and infatuation. He carried you up the steps then, gently setting you down onto his bed, the creak of the mattress springs underneath you. He kissed your forehead, your nose, your temple, your lips, and trailed all the way to your breasts, admiring them like they were all he dreamed about—you were all he dreamed about.

You looked into his stare, his dark brown eyes above yours. You felt the heat of his body, and every breath he took. You wanted to count his breaths every day for the rest of your life until they stopped. You wanted to entangle yourself into his soul, spinning yourself around his finger like the red string of fate.

You wanted to make love to him every night, crawl into his embrace like he was the only human on earth. He was like a warm fireplace on a cold winter day, the fall of snow during spring. And after all, at this moment as your eyes met before he entered you, his lips moved, your senses heightened as he spoke.

“I love you,” he hummed, his eyes sparkling in the dark. You were his source of light.

After those words, he collapsed into you, his hips meeting yours and your lips meshing together. He didn't give you a chance to respond—maybe he was scared of rejection. He had nothing to worry about, and as he made love to you, you ran your hands through his hair to keep it out of his eyes.

You moaned as he rhythmically crashed into you, his lips parted and his arms tightened. You wrapped your legs around his thin waist, his upper body crashing into yours, forehead to forehead, lips to lips, chest to chest, hearts beating the same beat. His hands found your breasts, grabbing them as if they would break under his touch. He trailed his lips down your neck to your chest, kissing you sensually, tastefully, treating you like a work of art.

Your vision became hazy as you reached your high, and after he noticed your climax, he smiled to himself, letting out a moan. “Good girl,” he praised, and then flipped you over onto your stomach with a groan. You positioned yourself for him, back arched as his fingertips glided against your skin. His hands ran down your sides, his hips meeting your ass as he gripped it with his hands, entering you once again like it was his home.

“I want this every day,” he pushed into you, his breaths hitting the back of your neck, causing you to tumble onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up from his strength. “Every night. For the rest of my life, I want you.”

You wanted to cry out of happiness. You wanted to turn around and tell him you want it too, that you’ve loved him since that one day he held you. He was all you ever wanted; ever needed.

He fucked you, made love to you, as if it was the last time. His body clashed into yours, letting out the most beautiful moans. He was born to be yours, you were born to be his. Your bodies fit like pieces of a puzzle, and as he reached his ending, you gripped onto the pillow underneath you, crying out as he came into you, him spilling his love for you, through words and actions.

He breathed and breathed and breathed, his body collapsing onto yours, afraid to crush you. He pulled out of you slowly, finding his spot next to you on his bed. Your eyes met, then your lips, and then your love.

“I love you, too,” you smiled at him, your eyes blurry as his beauty took over. His hair was stuck to his forehead from all of his sweat, and you reached out to brush it behind his ears.

He was breathing heavily, staring into your eyes like they were the most beautiful color he’s ever seen. To you, it might be bland. To him—they were the only eyes that mattered. The only window he wanted to look through.

His arms snaked over your naked body, his touch feeling like ecstacy. You fell asleep deeply for the first time in ages, his soft voice humming you to sleep as the moon began to fall.

—

The next morning was just like any other. You woke up alone, no Hongjoong in sight, but the warm, delicious smell of breakfast reminded you that it was all real. You looked down, no clothes, no underwear, just you. The sheets were crumbled all messily, your heart feeling just the same.

You smiled after looking around, noticing little things around his room that just made sense. Everything about him made you feel butterflies.

You made your way down the stairs after tossing on one of hongjoong’s shirts, hoping to stir something up with him. It almost feels unreal with the way you proclaimed your love so quickly, and after all this time of hiding your feelings, it was now all out in the open.

The minute you reached the kitchen, you found hongjoong sitting in the chair next to a plate of food meant for you. He sat with his legs crossed and his eyes on you. His pretty hair was messy, and his lips were curled up in a smirk.

You smiled at him shyly.

“Oh no,” he shook his head at you, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked you up and down, smirking even more as he noticed the shirt that covered your upper body. You decided against pants, only coming out in your underwear and his shirt. “Don't go all shy on me after last night. And not when you look like…this.”

You cautiously walked towards him, and the minute you reached him, he tugged you into his lap, holding you with a look of admiration.

“About last night—”

“If you're going to say it was a mistake, I will politely decline, angel,” he kissed your lips, lingering just a moment too long. It was blissful, despite your morning breath. “I need you. I can't be without you.”

I need you…

Did anyone need you? Was he the first person to actually want you?

You smiled sadly, but his expression made you feel comfortable. “I was just going to say that I enjoyed it,” you hummed, nodding. He chuckled at that, his arms tightening around your waist.

“I’m sorry I couldn't tell you sooner. About my feelings, I mean,” I babbled on, leaning his head onto you. “I got a little jealous with Yunho, and I couldn't stand the idea of you with someone other than me. And when you kissed me at the party, I got worried that you only made a drunken mistake—”

“Wait,” you raised your eyebrows, pulling back to look at him. “I actually kissed you at the party? I thought I dreamt that…” you spoke softly, subconsciously lifting your hand to your lips.

Hongjoong stared up at you for a moment and then smiled. “Ah, yeah. But you were so out of it. You passed out on my shoulder right after you made out with me.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh my god, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “No, no. It's okay,” he swallowed, looking a bit nervous. “I…want to take care of you when you're drunk, and when you're sick, and when you're depressed. I want to hold you while you have your panic attacks—even though I wish I could take them all away.”

You sat and listened, watching the way his eyes bounced around the room as the food got cold. It wasn't even a thought in your mind as he told you he loved you without even saying the three words.

“I want to go through everything with you. Good, bad, whatever. As long as it's with you,” his eyes met yours then. “And as long as I can kiss you whenever.”

You picked apart his expression—his eyes were glassy and his lips were parted. His smile was a bit worrisome, as if he wasn't sure you wanted what he did. You smiled then, and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

“I’ll be expecting showers of kisses,” you smirked, kissing his lips like they were made for you. “And shower sex. I love shower sex.”

He laughed musically, his voice always so soothing to you. You knew that your time in this house was ending, as this was the last year before graduation. You weren't sure what time had planned for you, but you hoped it was him.

There’s a time for everything. Your time with hongjoong was predetermined by fate. He was your soulmate if they existed. He was your sun, your moon, your universe. You spun around him like the moon to its earth, orbiting his existence like it was your destiny.

—

two years later,

Halloween Night

You stood on the steps of the townhouse, your phone clutched tight in your hands and a bag of candy in the other. Your heart ached the same way your feet did from all your running around at the hospital, your mind falling apart at its seam.

You stared at the red door, decorated with a festive autumnal wreath with the letters of your names.

You pushed through the door, your senses in overdrive as the smell of apples took over as a candle burned on the table. Sitting next to it was pumpkin, staring at the flame, and then at you, letting out a meow.

It was two years since you got with hongjoong. Two years before you graduated. Two years before you got swamped in work, having a hard time balancing work and romance.

You and hongjoong kept the house, deciding it was your home. You had nowhere else to go if he wasn't with you, and you graduated in love and in bliss.

Two years later, a mess of love and homemade meals, watching movies together, commuting together, sleeping together, you had a ring on your finger, a permanent mark of your love that would last forever.

You weren't planning anything—you let life take the reins. The love of your life stood in the living room, in his hands was a single rose from the mini mart—the same type of shitty rose you bought for him to ruin your relationship. Clearly it failed, as he stood, love in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

“Hi, angel,” he whispered, his hair no longer orange. It was his natural black, grown out and curled around his ears. He was beautiful in every way, a knight in shining armor, holding out a decaying rose as the leaves fell from the trees beyond the window. “Happy two years.”

You scoffed, setting down the bag of candy onto the table next to pumpkin. “A rose?”

“Mhm,” he murmured, smiling brightly.

“Why?” you inquired jokingly, walking closer to him.

He smiled prettily, his heart upon his sleeve. You watched him study you, look at every part of you. He loved you dearly, and as did you. You got a bit of butterflies from the deja vu, lost in the ocean of his eyes and drowning in the sea of his love.

He held out the rose.

“Because you're the love of my life.”

#hongjoong #kim hongjoong #ateez fic #hongjoong smut #hongjoong fic #hongjoong x reader #ateez #halloween au #best friends to lovers #roomates #hospital au #ateez smut

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