#moth to the flame - swedish house mafia/the weeknd

[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, especially not from the house next door."

Warning: more religion 😬 depression, Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi appear. Jungkook in a towel 💦👅 finally a kiss (things from here happen quickly.) ATTENTION, THIS STORY IS NOT SLOWBURN.

A/N: Guys, I took a while this time for reasons of: laziness and discouragement. I wanted more people to read what I write, but I'm introverted even on the Internet, which leaves me with few alternatives to show my writing to the world. Thinking about it, I'm in trouble. Other than that, only a few days have passed, so everything is fine. Back to the story, everything starts to pick up pace. Just to repeat, the fanfic is not slowburn, so there will be smut in the next chapter. Stay tuned.

Previous Chapter

Chapter 3

I spend the whole week riding an emotional rollercoaster. I find myself visiting my neighbor, Mrs. Jeon, more frequently than usual, and with each visit, our friendship blossoms deeper. She shares stories of her youth, of wild adventures and carefree days when she was my age. Her openness encourages me to share my own experiences–or rather, my lack of them. I recount my first disastrous kiss, confess that I've never been in love, and reveal how my once unshakeable faith in the church has wavered since my father's passing. I feel a weight lift off my shoulders; here, I am free to be imperfect, to be vulnerable, without fear of judgment.

Yet, there's one thing I keep to myself: the incident with her son, Jungkook, and the profound effect he has on me. Throughout all my visits, I never see him again. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I casually ask Mrs. Jeon where he is. She tells me that he moved and rented an apartment to avoid being a burden. He only spent the first night at home after his trip, and I remember that night well–from my window, of course–but I don't mention it. Disappointment settles in me like a stone; I long to see him again, but I focus on his mother instead. Having her to confide in is a relief, a breath of fresh air in my otherwise stifling life.

I patiently wait for her to open up about her own struggles, her depression, but she never does. I worry that I might know something I shouldn't, that perhaps she's not comfortable sharing with me. But I promise myself I'll keep her secret safe, no matter what. Today is Sunday, and I won't visit Mrs. Jeon since I'll see her at church. I'm excited–despite my mother making unnecessary comments and disturbing my peace of mind, I'll have someone to rely on.

I smooth down my dark brown dress, fixing my messy hair. I dab a bit of lipstick on my fingertips and press it onto my lips, careful not to overdo it. The truth is, I enjoy makeup, but I've never learned how to apply it properly. I feel embarrassed drawing attention to myself with bolder colors; after all, people are used to my lack of vanity. I sigh, steeling myself as I head downstairs to meet my mother.

She hasn't stopped talking about Jungkook. Unlike me, who had a good first impression, she despises him. She criticizes everything: his eyebrow piercing, his bold style, his tattoos, even the way he carries himself. I can't help but wonder if she accepted the dinner invitation just to analyze him, searching for flaws that exist only in her mind. She's been friends with Misuk since moving to town, and I want to believe–perhaps naively–that my mother doesn't have ulterior motives.

We arrive at church early, the space quiet with only a few members milling about. My mother drifts away to chat with the older congregation, and I find a seat, taking a deep breath. I scan the room for Mrs. Jeon but I don't see her. Since it's still early, I'm not too worried. I take a moment to read the Bible, reflecting on positive thoughts when I feel a gentle touch on my shoulder. I turn, and there he is–Jungkook, smiling brightly. I frown, almost convinced he's a mirage. Am I daydreaming?

"Hi Y/N, are you okay?" he asks softly, his lips brushing almost against my ear. His intense gaze locks with mine, and I'm relieved to be sitting down; my legs feel weak in his presence.

"Everything's fine," I reply, my eyes dropping to my fingers. I want to engage him, ask about his week, inquire how he's been, but the words stick in my throat. It's as though I can't act normally around him. I take a deep breath, mustering the courage to comment, "I didn't know you attended church."

"I don't," he laughs, amusement dancing in his eyes. And rightly so; considering his clothes–a heavy leather jacket, shaved sides, and a wavy fringe–it's sexy but definitely not what you'd expect at church. "I haven't been since I was a kid."

"Really? Why?" I ask, genuinely curious, my gaze drawn to his eyebrow piercing, oddly captivating.

"I didn't feel welcome," he replies simply. There's no bitterness in his voice, and I understand all too well what he means. My mother, for example, was the first to judge him based on his appearance, and I can only imagine how difficult it is to feel at home in a place where you're not embraced.

"I understand," I say, unsure of what else to add. "So, you came here to give it another shot?"

"No way," he chuckles. "Actually, my mom mentioned you two planned to meet at church today."

"That's true," I confirm.

"Unfortunately, she can't make it today. She's not feeling well."

"Is she okay?" My concern surfaces immediately.

"She's fine, don't worry. Just a headache, and she took some medicine. She'll be better soon," he assures me, his hand lightly touching my shoulder. I can't help but notice how warm and gentle his touch is. I shake my head, trying to divert my thoughts from Jungkook's hands to anything else.

"I'm relieved to hear that," I smile, noticing the church is starting to fill up.

"I'm actually inviting some friends over to my apartment, and I wanted to know if you'd like to join us," he says, brushing his fingertips against his ear, a bit shy. I'm taken aback; I didn't expect this invitation. He wants me to come over with his friends?

"And why?" I ask, surprised. It's been a while since we last saw each other, and we haven't talked much even then.

"I like you. I want you to come so we can have fun."

"If this is some kind of payment, or something like that... you really don't need to." I reply, not believing it. I don't have friends, and the thought that he wants to be with me and the people he likes seems absurd to me.

"It's not that. I'm even a bit offended." He jokes, smiling. "I really want you to come, please."

"Jungkook... I don't know."

"I swear they're nice. Every time I'm in Busan, we hang out. They're trustworthy, I promise."

"I can imagine," I reply, still hesitant. I'd have to leave church, skip the service, and ask my mother for permission to go out with him, and of course, she wouldn't allow it. No way. It's not that I don't want to; I desperately want to spend time with him. That's been on my mind all week. "I don't think it's possible; my mom..."

"I know," he interjects, as if he anticipated my response. "But what if, just this once, you say you are going to my mom's? We could say I'm taking you there when in fact, you're coming to my apartment."

"Are you asking me to lie to my mother in a church?" I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it. He shrugs, grinning.

"God knows it's just once," he replies confidently, pouting slightly. "What do you say? Later, I can take you to my mom's whenever you want, or you can stay at my apartment since I have more than one room. You set the time and conditions."

"Jungkook..." I groan, covering my face with my hands. The thought of lying to my mother, especially to go to a guy's house, sends a wave of anxiety through me. If she finds out, I'll be in big trouble.

"Come on! It'll be fun. I promise," he pleads softly. I can't say no to him, at least not now. I nod, agreeing to the madness.

"Okay, but you're the one who's going to talk to my mom. And if I say I want to leave, you agree. No alcohol because I know you drive. Those are my conditions," I assert, trying to sound firm. He smiles and salutes me, like a soldier receiving orders, and I slowly get up, taking small steps toward my mother. I let Jungkook lead the way, my nerves creeping back as I prepare to tell a lie in this sacred place.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Eunji. Good afternoon, everyone," he greets my mom and the other church members. My mother looks utterly shocked, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she takes in his appearance.

"Good afternoon, Jungkook," she replies, lacking enthusiasm, her gaze scanning him from head to toe. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to do a favor for my mom," he clarifies, and if I didn't know better, I'd almost believe him. "My mom asked Y/N to keep her company since my dad will be out of town for a few days. I came to pick her up."

"Really?" my mom looks at me, and I don't say anything, just nodding.

"It's true. My dad went to Daegu this weekend, and since my mom hasn't been feeling well, she asked Y/N to spend time with her. If you allow it, of course," he smiles calmly, and I brace myself waiting for my mother's response. I watch her weigh her options, glancing between Jungkook and me for what feels like an eternity before she sighs and nods.

"Alright, that's fine. Is your mom feeling okay?"

"Yes, she's getting better. Can we go now?" he asks, a hint of urgency in his voice.

"Yes, you may go," my mom sighs, placing a hand on her forehead. "It's a shame you're missing the service today, Y/N. Next week, you'll definitely come, okay?"

"Yes, mom, for sure," I agree weakly, clearing my throat and avoiding her gaze, still stunned that she let me go to Jungkook's house. Well, not his house, but is practically the same thing.

"Shall we go, Y/N? My mom is waiting," Jungkook says, raising an eyebrow. I nod, still silent, as we make our way toward the exit.

Some people stare, especially the older members, who seem shocked by Jungkook's appearance–too conservative, in my opinion. Somehow, the situation feels even funnier. Once we're sure no one can see us anymore, I burst into laughter, clutching my stomach. Jungkook chuckles too, exhaling as if he's just finished a tough exam and is finally free.

"Your mom is tough, huh?" he laughs. "I thought she was going to kill me with her eyes."

"Sorry," I say, still giggling a little. "She's like that with everyone."

"Even with you?"

"Even with me," I nod. "What do we do now?"

"Now, we go to my apartment. My friends have the key, so they're probably already there."

"Don't tell me they're all guys," I groan, suddenly anxious. I hadn't considered that he might not have any female friends, and I'd be the only girl at the apartment if that were the case.

"No, relax! I have female friends too. You'll like them," he assures me, walking toward a sleek black car parked across the street. I know nothing about cars, but I can tell this one is expensive. I feel out of place, acutely aware that Jungkook lives in a different world, one that's far removed from my own.

The tension in the car is palpable as we drive. The ride feels like it takes forever, the windows closed, and I'm intoxicated by his scent. I discreetly watch his large hands on the wheel, the way his long fingers tap rhythmically against the leather seat. I have to swallow hard to keep from drooling over him. I'm starving–not for food, but for him. All week, I've yearned to be near him, to touch him. I think I'm suffering from a Jungkook overdose, craving something I haven't even tasted yet.

I ponder whether he's aware of the effect he has on me, but I like to believe he hasn't noticed. It's easier that way. I breathe slowly, attempting to relax in my seat. It takes another ten minutes before Jungkook opens the gate to a condo with a small remote and drives in slowly. His car fits the place perfectly. Everything is stunning and upscale. I glance at my clothes and regret agreeing to come. Why did I say yes? I don't know his friends, and I don't know Jungkook that well, aside from the overwhelming attraction I feel toward him. What do I actually know about him? That he's a tattoo artist from Seoul? That he's rich and hasn't set foot in a church since childhood? I feel like I've walked into a situation that's spiraling out of control.

"Hey, Y/N, are you okay? You went quiet all of a sudden," he asks, concern etched on his face.

"I'm fine. Just feeling a bit strange," I admit.

"Why?"

"I don't know," I confess, omitting my paranoid thoughts. "I always feel like this in new places."

"I get that. I feel that way too," he tells me as we step into the parking elevator. I follow him, digesting this new revelation.

"You seem so confident and social," I comment, genuinely amazed. His big eyes meet mine as the elevator rises, floors passing by in a blur.

"I know, it seems that way. But in reality, I'm quite introverted. I have a small circle of friends and prefer it that way. I just fake it really well," he shares, and I find myself wanting to know more about the person behind the confident exterior.

"Really?" I ask, intrigued.

"Yeah," he nods, his expression earnest.

I try to respond, but the elevator stops on a floor, and Jungkook smiles at me, indicating that this is the right place. I feel one of his hands gently touch my waist, guiding me to a white door. I have to take a deep breath to keep from freaking out, my sweaty, trembling hands hidden in my pocket. I hear different music from the other side of the door before the place fully opens up to us.

"Hey, he's here! Finally, Jungkook!" I hear a male voice. It's a guy around Jungkook's age, I realize as soon as we walk in. His hair is a dark red, and his skin is pale and smooth. It's no surprise that his arms are covered in tattoos, drawings and phrases I can't read so far away. He also watches me closely, smiling warmly.

"Guys, this is YN, the one I told you about," Jungkook introduces me with a smile.

I turn red because there are at least seven people staring at me from head to toe. The apartment is well-kept, with dark wooden furniture. The living room is immaculate, with abstract paintings and photos of Jungkook and his family on the walls. I don't have much time to take everything in as my eyes focus on Jungkook's friends, who are strangers to me so far. Saying they're different from me would be an understatement.

They all have many tattoos and wear dark clothing. I sense an aura of confidence from all of them, but never hostility. It's as if they're very similar to Jungkook, with a completely different exterior from their inner selves. I relax a bit, smiling warmly and putting on my best expression.

"Nice to meet you all," I say, feeling a bit shy. They stand up and smile at me.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Yoongi. That's my girlfriend, Minji," says the red-haired guy, pointing to the woman who just smiles. I offer my hand, feeling his cold skin from the beer bottle he was holding earlier.

"I'm Bora, and this is my boyfriend, Jimin," one of the dark-haired women greets me next, pointing to her boyfriend. They're a good-looking couple, the kind you see in magazines. Jimin has the brightest and most open smile.

"Nice to meet you," I nod.

"I'm Taehyung, but you can call me Tae," one of the guys says, taking a sip of his drink.

"I'm Yoori, Tae's girlfriend. Nice to meet you," she winks, making me laugh.

"And I'm Hayun, the only single one in the group," one of the girls shakes my hand, pulling me into a hug. She kisses my cheek, making her presence increasingly noticeable.

"Hayun, you're only single because you want to be, come on," Bora rolls her eyes. Hayun laughs, grabbing a snack from the coffee table.

"I like being single, except when I'm surrounded by couples. Especially couples like you guys."

"Do you have a boyfriend, Y/N?" Jimin asks. Embarrassed, I shake my head.

"No," I reply. They seem surprised, making noises with their mouths.

"But Jungkook is single too, right?" The guy with dark hair says, drinking his beverage. I thinks his name is Tae, if I remember right.

"And I want to keep that way." Jungkook replys.

"Of course you do." Yoongi laughs along with his friends, rolling his eyes. I remain silent, not understanding the joke. Then Yoongi looks at me and seems to notice my confusion. "Y/N, Jungkook never dates. The only time he tried, it went so wrong that now he doesn’t want to do it again."

"It was a disaster." Yoori adds, as if telling a fictional story. Jungkook rolls his eyes, sighing, but his friend continues: "he’s been avoiding relationships like the devil avoids the cross since then."

"Really?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"It’s not true, Y/N." Jungkook smiles at me. "They’re idiots."

"That’s not a lie." Minji, who had been silent until then, clarifies. "He’s been asked out several times, and he always declines. Women go crazy for him, for some reason."

"I know what the reason is." Jimin laughs mischievously, suggesting something while raising an eyebrow. I turn red when they laugh at the joke. Jungkook doesn’t contest it, too busy eating one of the snacks on the table. "But what about you, Y/N? Have you ever dated before?"

"Never." I reply. They don't look surprised this time.

"So you're like Jungkook, who avoids relationships?" Bora asks with a laugh. I feel Jungkook's eyes on me, watching attentively for my response. I shake my head, feeling awkward.

"No, actually, it's just a lack of options," I clarify, deciding to be honest. I hold my hands together nervously.

"Now you have two options," Yoongi suggests with a chuckle. Minji hits his arm trying to stop him, but he continues: "There's Hayun, since she likes to try out a little bit of everything, like some pussy and shit."

"Oh!" I widen my eyes, shocked, as they laugh even more. It's the first time I've seen someone speak so openly like this. Embarrassed, I look at Hayun, but she doesn't seem to mind the comment, laughing with the others.

"Who would be the other option?" Taehyung asks his friend with his trademark grin.

"Our friend Jungkook, obviously," Yoongi clarifies, and I choke on the answer, coughing uncontrollably.

They laugh even more, watching me nearly suffocate from the joke. Jungkook pats my back, smiling widely. His thumb caresses the skin of my arm, waiting for me to calm down. We're so close that he inadvertently wraps one of his arms around my shoulder. I'm shocked and even more unsettled. For me, physical contact beyond my mom is rare. Hugs, affection... I'm just not used to it.

"Are you okay?" he asks amidst his friends' chatter. I nod, staring at my hands. "Sorry about Yoongi; he always makes these kinds of jokes. He doesn't mean any harm."

"It's fine," I assure him, feeling awkward, unable to look into his eyes. "I actually liked everyone."

"Really?" he asks, bringing his nose close to my hair. My whole body shivers as I realize he's smelling my perfume, giving a satisfied smile when he pulls away. "Good to know."

I stay silent, feeling his warm breath near me. Jungkook removes his arm from my shoulder, but his skin still brushes against mine when he takes off his heavy jacket, leaving him in just a T-shirt. His friends are fun and involve me in the conversation, making me feel comfortable, but the truth is that having Jungkook so close drives me crazy and I can't pay much attention. I wonder how long I'll feel this way about him. Will this strong effect never go away? This is the third time we've met, but something tells me that no matter how many times I see him-be it two times or a thousand-my heart will always race whenever he gets close and smiles at me.

I don't even notice the time passing and only realize it's late when Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung offer to take their girlfriends home, along with Hayun, who complains about not having anyone waiting for her at her apartment. Everyone leaves until only Jungkook and I remain. He promised to take me to his mother's house if I wanted, but I'm hesitant to ask as it's quite likely Mrs. Jeon is already asleep by now.

"Y/N, do you want me to get a towel for you?" Jungkook asks, tidying up the living room. I'm confused, picking up some empty soju bottles his friends drank to throw away.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not going to stay here?" he asks, furrowing his brow.

"Not really?" I laugh, then realize I might have been a bit rude, so I rephrase my response. "I mean, I don't think so. I don't want to be a bother."

"It's no bother. If you want, you can take a shower in my bathroom and sleep in the guest room." He offers with a smile. I bite my lower lip, unsure what to decide. I want to stay here, but it's just him and me now; is it really the right thing to do? It doesn't matter, Y/N. Just for one night.

"Okay then. Do you have a toothbrush, please?"

"Of course I do. Come with me, I'll get the stuff for you to use the bathroom." He calls me with a smile and walks down the long hallway. We pass by a few doors until we reach his room. My throat goes dry as my eyes scan the new space. His bed is large and covered with a dark gray blanket. The walls are white and everything is very organized, with a laptop next to the wardrobe and a fluffy black rug on the floor. His scent is everywhere, almost as if I'm breathing him. I clutch my hands together nervously about being alone with Jungkook in such an intimate space. He reappears after going to the closet, holding a white towel and some cotton clothes.

"You can take a shower in my bathroom while I use the guest one," he says, placing the items in my hands.

"Jungkook, that's not necessary..."

"Don't worry. I want you to be comfortable." He says before I can argue. His satisfied smile makes me not deny it again, happy to receive so much care from him. I just nod, agreeing. "The toothbrush is in the cabinet by the sink, in the package. You can open it, okay?"

"Okay, thank you very much." I smile before he walks down the hallway. I head to the door leading to the bathroom and sneak into the new space. I start thinking Jungkook has no flaws.

The place is as clean as the rest of the apartment, which makes me curious; does he clean everything himself, or does he hire someone to keep it tidy? I slowly take off my dress, grabbing my phone to text my mom and let her know I'm okay. I feel bad for lying, but the night was so good that I can't truly regret it. If I had to lie, to meet these same people, I would do it again. Thinking this surprises me, because just a few hours ago, I didn't think this way. The shower has a strong hot jet of water that massages my whole body, and it's so good that I have to convince myself to finish the shower and put on the clothes, trying to be done before Jungkook.

I brush my teeth quickly, smelling my skin that's still male fragrant with the liquid soap. I smile at myself in the mirror, brushing my hair with my fingers, trying to manage the unwashed strands. I open the bathroom door carefully, trying not to make too much noise and disturb the neighbors at this hour, when I see Jungkook again, this time only in a towel. I hold onto the doorframe, barely able to stand. A voice in my head tells me I shouldn't be watching him naked again and that I should turn around, go back into the bathroom, and pretend nothing happened, but I can't. I simply can't anymore. His muscular, wet back is in my field of vision as he searches for clothes. At that moment, my brain turns to mush and I decide to say what's been stuck in my throat.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" I muster the courage to ask him but I regret it immediately. What the hell am I doing? Jungkook turns slowly and the view from the front is a thousand times better than from the back. His whole body glistens in the light of the room, and his tattoos have never been so vivid. His body is muscular, virile and strong. I gonna lose my mind! Feeling new sensations I've never experienced for anyone before.

"Y/N?" He whispers my name with that soft voice he used when we first met. He doesn't seem surprised or embarrassed, which makes me even more unsettled.

"You're doing this on purpose, Jungkook?" I ask again. I have no idea where I got such courage and I don't know how long it will last. My heart feels like it's going to leap out of my chest. My whole body is on edge and sweating. I feel my hands trembling as I swallow hard. "You're trying something? I mean... you're not wearing clothes again and..."

"What do you think, Y/N?" he retorts suddenly, with a hoarse, deep voice. His eyes wander from my head to toes, as he raises an eyebrow along with his piercing, with a smirk at the corner of his mouth. My legs turn to weak twigs immediately, ready to collapse.

"I-I don't know." I stammer as he takes one step, then two and three, getting closer and closer to me.

"When I arrived from my trip to Busan, on the first day, I was tired and exhausted," he tells me, taking another step. I start to run out of breath, anxious and aroused. My cheeks flush as he speaks more slowly. "All I wanted was to rest and sleep the whole night, but that night I couldn't, not for an hour. Do you know why?"

"N-no..." I moan softly as his chest presses against mine. His warm, wet skin makes contact with mine, and I no longer know where I begin or end, pressed against his body. His pink lips curl into a wicked smile, as if he knows exactly what he's doing to me and it's all intentional. I shiver as his free hand moves up my wrist and grips the back of my neck firmly, making my eyes focus on his mouth and then his dark, deep eyes.

"A woman, next window, taking off all her damn clothes, completely shameless," he growls, pulling my neck closer to his face and pressing his lips to my ear. My spine tingles as I feel his teeth on my earlobe, in a bite that doesn't hurt but damn, it makes me shiver. My body contracts once and twice, and I know exactly what I'm feeling now: desire. The kind I feel occasionally when I try to touch myself alone and can't reach climax. The feeling I only have when I'm alone and confortable in my bed, trying to use my imagination even with the lack of real experience, but this is real, and it is infinitely better than what my mind could create.

"It was an accident, Jung..." I try to say, but my voice doesn't come out. The tip of his nose travels along a sensitive spot behind my ear, one I didn't even know existed, slowly moving down my jawline, discovering new paths. His hand tightens around my waist, keeping me in place, immobile.

"It may be that you didn't notice, Y/N, but I know you were watching me, even while I was undressing, even when you had every opportunity to stop." He argues with a smile, as someone who knows what they're doing and enjoys seeing the result. "And you know what's worse...? The worst thing is knowing the effect you have on me. From the first time I saw you in my house, with your innocent and curious eyes. I can't get you out of my damn head. Your mouth, your scent..."

"J-Jungkook... please." I beg, closing my eyes tightly. And I know what I want. I want him, since the first time I saw him. Since my eyes met his, I desired him so strongly that I couldn't think straight. He pulls away just a little, and I almost moan in a plea for him not to go. He sighs, pressing his forehead to mine.

"Can I kiss you, Y/N?" he asks in a very soft voice, and I nod because, despite all the things I believe in–God, hell, heaven and even my mother–nothing has ever been as adored as Jungkook. Since I met him, inexplicably, I only think about him, like a spell unable to contemplate of any other answer besides yes. I look at his eyes as they travel to my mouth, and I lower mine to his, exhilarated by that pink that only exists in him.

I move closer, my lips almost touching his, feeling the warmth of his breath. "Just kiss me, please." I murmur scared of what I'm doing; temptation clear in every word. And then he does.

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments.

@ane102 @ttipa @joonwater

[fanfictiondramione]

Like a moth to a flame I'll pull you in, I pulled you back to What you need initially

'Cause he seems like he's good for you And he makes you feel like you should And all your friends say he's the one His love for you is true

But does he know you call me when he sleeps? But does he know the pictures that you keep? But does he know the reasons that you cry? Or tell me, does he know where your heart lies? Where it truly lies

Right here with me, babe Where it truly lies In my bed, babe In my arms, babe Where it truly lies

Moth To a Flame by The Weeknd (feat. Swedish House Mafia)

[somanyshipsstuff]

Nica & Rigel | moth to a flame

[worldmusicandcinema]

Swedish House Mafia, The Weeknd

Moth To A Flame

[my-chaos-radio]

Release: October 22, 2021

Lyrics:

Like a moth to a flame

I'll pull you in, I'll pull you back to what you need initially

It's just one call away

And you'll leave him, you're loyal to me

But this time I let you be

'Cause he seems like he's good for you

And he makes you feel like you should

And all your friends say he's the one

His love for you is true

But does he know you call me when he sleeps?

But does he know the pictures that you keep?

But does he know the reasons that you cry?

Or tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

Where it truly lies

Yeah

You should be with him, I let you go from time

You should stay with him

'Cause he seems like he's good for you

And he makes you feel like you should

And all your friends say he's the one

His love for you is true (hey)

But does he know you call me when he sleeps? (No, no)

But does he know the pictures that you keep? (Oh)

But does he know the reasons that you cry?

Or tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

Where it truly lies

Where it truly lies

Right here with me, babe

Where it truly lies

My bed, babe

Where it truly lies

In my arms, babe

Where it truly lies

(Oh-oh-oh)

Where it truly lies

Where it truly lies

(Hey)

Songwriter:

Steve Angello / Axel Christofer Hedfors / Sebastian Carmine Ingrosso / Abel Tesfaye / Carl William Eric Nordström

SongFacts:

👉📖

Homepage:

Swedish House Mafia

The Weeknd

[amandaleveille]

ooohhh tagged by @girlfriendline for 10 songs ive been listening to on repeat/nonstop

Troye Sivan - Rush

Kim Petras & Nicki Minaj - Alone

Tove Lo - i like u

Icona Pop & SOFI TUKKER - Spa

The Band CAMINO - Last Man In The World

5 Seconds of Summer - Easy for You to Say

Aly & AJ - Attack of Panic

Catie Turner - Control

Kita Alexander - I Miss You, I’m Sorry

The Band CAMINO - See You Later

tagging @altschmerzes @emmowned @zuccarella

[xartwrk]

Moth to a Flame by Swedish House Mafia and The Weeknd

[ask-sebastian]

Are we even allowed to have this theme without The Weeknd?

[crestfallen-infatuation]

Like a moth to a flame

I'll pull you in, I'll pull you back to what you need initially

It's just one call away

And you'll leave him, you're loyal to me

But this time I let you be

--

'Cause he seems like he's good for you

And he makes you feel like you should

And all your friends say he's the one

His love for you is true

--

But does he know you call me when he sleeps?

But does he know the pictures that you keep?

But does he know the reasons that you cry?

Or tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

Where it truly lies

--

Yeah

You should be with him, I let you go from time

You should stay with him

--

'Cause he seems like he's good for you

And he makes you feel like you should

And all your friends say he's the one

His love for you is true (hey)

--

But does he know you call me when he sleeps? (No, no)

But does he know the pictures that you keep? (Oh)

But does he know the reasons that you cry?

Or tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

Where it truly lies

--

Right here with me, babe

Where it truly lies

My bed, babe

Where it truly lies

In my arms, babe

Where it truly lies

(Oh-oh-oh)

--

Where it truly lies

Where it truly lies

(Hey)

Where it truly lies

[kat-luv]

Daily Song Recommendation #535

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: me posting twice in the same month?? someone do a welfare check

warning: age gap mentioned (bc I’m a slut) but not extensively or in a weird way bc Spencer’s not a pervert lol

Moth To A Flame

Closing the bathroom door with your own back, you slide down it until you’re sitting on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest and taking a shaky breath. You shouldn’t call him while crying, you know better than that, but you know your own tells enough to hope you can mask them; a futile effort considering who you intend to call at 3am.

Lifting your phone to your ear, you hear it ring no more than twice before your prayers are answered, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Hey, Spencer.” You greet him quietly, smiling from just saying his name.

“Hi, sunshine. How are you?” Spencer’s voice is calm and collected, but it’s clear through the phone he’s delighted to hear from you.

There’s no question raised regarding the time at which you’re calling. But no matter how many times this happens, Spencer always enquires after your wellbeing.

“I’m okay, thank you. Just…you know. How are you?” The question is returned, though neither of you are a fan of small talk.

“Yes,” Spencer responds specifically to the insinuation he knows, because he does. Then, he continues, “-I’m well, too, thank you.”

His words, and what goes left unsaid, makes your smile grow.

“What’re you reading?” You ask, and the quiet chuckle you hear from Spencer is enough to prove you right in your assumption of his reason for being awake at this hour.

“Pride And Prejudice. How did you know I was reading?” He wonders aloud with a fondness in his voice that he reserves only for you.

“When aren’t you reading?” You roll your eyes playfully, and Spencer can practically hear it.

“When I’m sleeping.” He quips, his own smile evident in his voice.

It’s enough to have you laughing softly into the phone, which only serves to make Spencer’s smile grow.

“Read me some?” You request quietly.

Like you ever need to ask.

Spencer clears his throat into the phone.

“After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began, ‘In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement, and the avowal of all that he felt and had long felt for her immediately followed. He spoke well, but there were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness…” Spencer reads aloud, and the smile on your face is almost as soft as his voice sounds through the phone.

By the end of the chapter, your eyes have drifted closed and your head is tipped back against the bathroom door behind you. Hearing how calm your breathing has become, Spencer pauses, and you hear him close the book.

“See you in the morning?” He always asks because on the rare chance you’ll say no, at least he has time to mentally prepare for your absence. Tonight is not the night for that.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow…Thank you.” You reply, already feeling close to sleep.

This stumps Spencer momentarily, and he falters before he replies, “For what?”

And there’s only one thing you can say to that.

“Being you.”

Spencer chuckles sheepishly, “I don’t know how to be anyone else.”

Of course he doesn’t. Perhaps, if he was anyone else, you’d stand a chance.

“Goodnight, Spencer.” You tell him gently.

“Goodnight, sunshine.” There’s a second of warm silence as you savor the sound of each other’s quiet breathing, and then you both hang up the call.

Standing up from where you’d been sitting on the bathroom floor, you take another deep breath before reaching for the door handle. Walking through a house that isn’t yours, into a living room where the sound of snoring from the couch makes you want to tear your hair out, past a kitchen where a cheap measly pile of four red roses lie limp on the counter with a post-it note in place of any kind of meaningful card, up the staircase where framed photographs filled with eyes that aren’t on your side stare down at you judgmentally, until you’re safely confined in the bedroom you feel doomed to. Crawling into your side of the bed, you adjust the pillows that occupy the other side, filling the space in a shape long enough to resemble the shape of someone under your bedcovers. And with Spencer’s voice still in your ears wishing you a good night, you close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

Meanwhile, Spencer adjusts his alarm clock to wake him an hour earlier than necessary, and awakens from a peaceful slumber with a determined mission in mind. Once his normal morning routine is complete, instead of driving to the office, he drives to his preferred florist, who greets him with a knowing smile when Spencer walks in.

“Another dozen?” The florist guesses.

“Please.” Spencer nods, smiling politely.

Retrieving his wallet from his back pocket, Spencer pays for the flowers and graciously thanks the florist, taking the flowers and then leaving the establishment to return to his car. He drives back home, placing the dozen flowers in a glass vase that he keeps pristine for this very purpose, with the perfect level of water for optimal growth for this specific species of flower. Very carefully, Spencer inspects them until he determines which has the prettiest bloom today, and that is the one he elects to remove from the vase, carefully securing its stem in seran wrap and placing it in the pocket of his suit jacket, then continuing on his normal journey into work.

Purposely, Spencer arrives earlier than the rest of the team, so that he can execute his plan without interruptions. From the staff kitchen, he chooses the most elegant looking glass he can find and again pours the perfect level of water - this time for just one flower, specifically - unwrapping the single bloom in his suit jacket and setting in the glass. He then walks to your desk and positions it in an aesthetically pleasing location, but already knows it is not enough. The picture is not complete. It must be perfect for you. Briefly visiting his own desk, Spencer opens the drawer to take a piece of his own parchment paper, from which he cuts a small section that he then folds in half. On what appears to be the front of the folded piece, he maps out a constellation in a dot-to-dot sketch, then inside the fold of paper, he writes the story behind it. After several attempts, Spencer finds the perfect angle at which to place the folded piece of paper next to the flower on the desk, and only then does he return to his usual morning routine of making himself a coffee in the staff kitchen. Counting down the minutes.

By the time you get to the office, you’ve pushed the thoughts of your home from your mind and have a bright smile on your face, looking forward to a day spent working with your friends and not thinking about-

“(Y/N)! I just saw! He got you roses! That’s SO cute! You have, like, the best boyfriend!” Penelope squeals as she runs up to you the very second you walk through the glass doors of the bullpen.

Your heart sinks and your eyebrows furrow.

“You saw?”

Penelope nods excitedly, gesturing to her phone, where she shows you the post your boyfriend had made on social media: a picture he had taken of the four red roses he’d bought you that he filtered to high heaven to make them look more grand than they were, with a caption that said ‘happy four and many more, babe x’. If it weren’t for the sake of keeping your business private - something he clearly cares for about as much as he does you - you’d scoff.

“Oh, yeah. Must’ve missed that he posted that.” You plaster a smile on your face that doesn’t reach your eyes, walking side by side with Penelope towards your desk.

“It was your four year anniversary, right? Did you do anything fancy?” She’s giddy on your behalf.

“No, just had a quiet night in.” You provide an excuse, the most generous blanket statement you could have given to the shambles that were your boyfriend’s anniversary plans.

Your dejectedness, however, is abruptly cut short when your gaze lands on your desk. A single bloom of your favorite flower, with a neatly folded handwritten note of a constellation placed next to it. In a microsecond, you’re turning to where Spencer sits at his desk, hiding his smirk behind his cup of coffee.

“You didn’t!” You feign chastisement, but your giddiness is obvious.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spencer shrugs, his smile as obvious as yours is.

You’re practically bouncing on the spot when you bring the little glass and the delicate flower within to your face to breathe in the sweet scent.

“These aren’t even in season anymore, Spencer, how did you-“

The question is cut short by a magician who never reveals his secrets.

“I played no part in this, but perhaps someone happens to know somebody else who is equipped to grow them on request.” There’s a teasing lilt to his otherwise matter-of-fact tone, and you are shaking your head in absolute disbelief.

Setting the glass back down on your desk, you pick up the constellation, admiring it carefully before folding it and placing it in your desk drawer, in amongst another 30-something hand drawn constellations. The smile is still lingering on your face when you sit down at your desk, and from where Spencer sits at his, his chest feels warm. So much joy from you at the cost of only an hour’s less sleep and a few more dollars than the asking price of your favorite flowers. Perhaps, tonight you won’t call him trying to hide that you’d been crying again, he hopes. Whether that comes to fruition or not, he has another eleven blooms waiting in his apartment to gift you at random intervals to surprise you and keep your tears at bay for as long as he can, without you ever telling him there was a chance of them falling. He knows.

For the rest of the day, Spencer catches you glancing at the flower on your desk while you work through various reports and paperwork, an almost shy smile lighting up your face every time you see it there.

It’s only when the team begins packing up for the day that Spencer thinks to look into what Penelope had referenced that morning- a post of some kind? Easily enough, Spencer finds your boyfriend’s social media on his computer, and what he discovers makes him borderline violent. Four years together, encompassed by four measly roses and what you called a ‘quiet night in’ that was so beyond underwhelming you ended your evening by calling Spencer from your bathroom. A celebration of that scale warranted only four red roses, while the mere hint you’d been crying was enough for Spencer to visit the florist he pays specifically to keep growing your favorite flowers for you, to buy another dozen that he intends to deliver to you one by one at irregular intervals. Still, it isn’t Spencer’s job to compensate for what is clearly absent from your relationship; at least, not consciously.

“Babe!” A voice calls out that has Spencer using every ounce of strength he possesses to withhold from rolling his eyes. Shutting down his computer, he stands from his desk just in time to see your expression fall where you pack away your things at your own desk.

Turning to face your boyfriend, you give him a tight-lipped smile.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” You ask shortly.

Excellent question, Spencer thinks.

“Just came to surprise you and drive you home!” Your boyfriend exclaims like it’s some kind of achievement, opening his arms in a big gesture as he approaches your desk.

How considerate, ambushing you at your workplace under the guise of it being a nice surprise, Spencer scoffs internally, deliberately slowing the pace at which he readies his satchel to leave the office.

“Oh. Thanks.” You don’t know what else to say. “I’ll be ready in a second.” You add, feeling like you’re defaulting to basic lines of dialogue to avoid awkward silences.

“Great!” Your boyfriend exclaims, looking around the bullpen like he’s never seen the place before - he has, twice, and Spencer wishes his eidetic memory would allow him to erase the memory of your discomfort during both instances - until his eyes land on a face he recognises, and he grins.

“Spencer! My man!” Your boyfriend yells, and your eyes widen as you watch him walk right over to Spencer and pull him into a bro-hug that immediately has Spencer rigidly uncomfortable.

“I’ve told you-“ You implore, shooting Spencer an apologetic and pleading look before your boyfriend starts talking over you.

“Oh yeah! Sorry, man, forgot you’re weird about touching people.” He laughs, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

You scowl, parting your lips to bite his head off, but Spencer steps in to prevent you from saying something that’ll only cause more arguments for you when you go home.

“I have an acute awareness and disliking towards unfamiliar germs and contact.” Spencer corrects your boyfriend firmly, aware that only you and him realize what he means by a germ in this context.

“Yeah, man, no worries.” Your boyfriend laughs, like he’s the funniest man in the world to himself. “Ready to go, babe?” He asks you.

“Mhmm.” Another tight-lipped smile, and that’s apparently convincing enough for your boyfriend, who wraps an arm around your waist in a careless action rather than something that should be treasured, and would be treasured by the man you look over your shoulder to give one last apologetic expression to.

That is, until Emily steps out of her office and calls over to you, “Don’t forget about Rossi’s party!”

And you literally wince.

“A party?! Oh man! Can’t wait! Thanks, Emmers!” Your boyfriend answers for you, regarding a party you had deliberately neglected to mention to him, and then he’s all but dragging you out of the office.

Once out of earshot, Spencer actually does scoff.

“Emmers?” Emily asks him with a frown from where she stands on the raised walkway, leaning on the railing.

“A shocking breach of social etiquette to assume a nickname for someone he barely knows.” Spencer clarifies, to which Emily nods.

“You still not coming to Rossi’s tonight?” She elects to ask him, a smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

Spencer sighs heavily. He looks down at his desk, then lifts his head to look over at the elevator doors closing, snatching the view of you away. He knows what will happen tonight. He knows.

The mirror stares back at him. If someone told Spencer a year ago that he’d be attending a work related get together he’d initially rejected the invitation of but went back on himself solely in the hopes that his suit of choice would impress a coworker just over half his age who has a boyfriend, Spencer would have walked right out of prison and requested a psych eval. Still, the thought at the forefront of his mind is that 6 months and 8 days ago he had worn an all-black suit on a case that you had complimented. It is a foolish dream to think you would compliment him for it again, but for you, Doctor Spencer Reid is a proud fool.

Much to your own embarrassment, you and your boyfriend knock at Rossi’s door an hour late, and based on your expression it is not difficult for Spencer to deduce it’s not your fault. Or, it wouldn’t have been difficult if his brain hadn’t short-circuited at the sight of you wearing a thin strapped, floor length purple silk dress that hugged your every curve to the extent that when Spencer rose from his seat in a gentlemanly gesture at your entrance, his knees very nearly buckled beneath him to a position of worship. Your boyfriend’s arm is careless around your waist again, and he drops it not to pull your chair out for you at the table, but to bro-hug David Rossi, who looks at him like he spat in his bowl of pasta. In your disgruntled state, it takes you a second to acknowledge that Spencer is standing, and in between greeting the rest of the team, your eyes continually flit back to him, his heart skipping a beat each and every time in a way that only further convinces him he is in the midst of a medical emergency. Finally, your gaze lingers on him, and he doesn’t waste the opportunity.

“Can I get you a drink? Rossi’s minibar has some of your favorites.” Spencer gestures with the hand not holding his own drink, and without so much as looking to your plus one, you nod and walk around the table.

His large hand ghosts the small of your back, fingers flexing, but he doesn’t allow himself to make contact until he counts the microseconds to cross the distance that takes you both away from every other pair of eyes in this house. The heat of Spencer’s fingertips meet the purple silk of your dress, barely there, but oh, do you feel it.

Once safely standing at the minibar, Spencer only needs to watch your face to see which bottle your eyes light up at, and as soon as he notices, he pours you a glass without you having to ask. In a gesture that feels like a secret, the two of you clink your glasses together and lock eyes to take a simultaneous sip.

“Nice suit.” You nod at Spencer, a shy smile forming behind your glass.

“Thank you.” He tries not to choke on his drink, then nods back at you. “Pretty dress.”

You have to bite your lip to prevent your smile from growing any bigger.

“Thank you. The color reminded me of your scarf.” You remark quietly, and if you weren’t a profiler, you probably wouldn’t notice the almost imperceptible widening of Spencer’s eyes at your words.

“It is a similar shade.” He agrees, his heart in his throat.

Comfortable silence settles between you. Eyes locked, nursing your drinks, your free hands hanging idly at your sides. Standing just a little too close. Fingers almost touching.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” You say eventually.

Spencer shakes his head dismissively. “I appreciate it, but his oversights aren’t your responsibility.” Or your burden, he so badly wants to add.

You sigh. “If he overstepped the boundaries of a guy who was less of a man than you, he could’ve got his face caved in.”

And what a shame that would have been, Spencer muses in his own mind.

“I didn’t escalate the situation, but not because I’m a man- because it wasn’t a worthy cause.” He amends.

“So if there was a worthy cause, you’d have clocked him?” You giggle at the idea.

“Possibly.” Definitely, Spencer smirks.

“What constitutes a worthy cause in the mind of Doctor Spencer Reid?” You tease, tilting your head to look up at him with a curious twinkle in your eyes.

“If he made you cry.” Spencer chooses his words very carefully, and inspects every micro expression on your face in response.

Because your boyfriend has made you cry, you know that, and you know Spencer knows too, despite the fact you haven’t ever stated as such. He knows. All you’d have to do is say the word, and Spencer would walk right back into the dining room, grab your boyfriend by his collar in front of the entire team, drag him outside and beat him to a pulp in the street.

If Spencer wasn’t a profiler, he probably wouldn’t notice the almost imperceptible widening of your eyes at his words.

“Babe! There you are! Rossi’s served us up a couple plates of something with a name I can’t pronounce- Spencer! Hey, man!” Your boyfriend’s agitating, grating voice cuts into the peaceful bubble you and Spencer had been existing in.

Sharing an equally irritated glance, you both turn to face him.

“Linguine alla Puttanesca.” Spencer drawls.

“Yeah, something like that, for sure!” Your boyfriend laughs, loudly, and without you saying a word, his arm is thrown around your waist again, stealing you from Spencer - who trails behind with a scowl fixed on your boyfriend’s arm - and returning to the dining room.

At the table, you sit opposite Spencer, with your boyfriend sitting on your left. You’re grateful for the casual conversation in the room taking his attention away from you for the most part, allowing you the peace of eating without him saying something that makes you want to vomit.

“Been thinking of getting some sleeping pills myself, not been sleeping too good on the couch!”

Nevermind.

Your eyes close in a pained blink, and you lift your napkin with an unnecessarily firm grip to wipe at your mouth.

“Oh. You’ve not got…comfy cushions?” Penelope tries to save the conversation, but the awkward silence has already descended upon the table at your boyfriend’s blatant overshading at your expense.

“Nope, barely been sleeping a wink! I miss my own bed, I’ll tell you that!” Your boyfriend laughs.

Setting your napkin down, you keep your gaze fixed on your half empty plate. You can feel eyes on you. Everywhere.

“A dinner party with your partner’s friends is not the social setting for discussing your relationship.” Spencer quips, releasing enough tension in your chest to allow you a breath.

“Don’t worry, bro, she doesn’t mind!” Your boyfriend nudges you with his arm, and you are rigid.

“Nobody at this table requires a profiling skillset to determine that (Y/N) does mind.” Spencer’s protective nature is bristling.

“Oh yeah, bet you profilers can just look and tell exactly what her problem is, huh?!” Your boyfriend laughs. “Go on, guess!” He demands of the table, like he’s prepping a joke with the greatest punchline in human history.

The table is silent. You close your eyes in a pained blink, begging any god that may exist, please, please-

“She won’t sleep with me!” Your boyfriend roars with laughter, and time slows to an agonizing halt.

The only accompanying sounds are cutlery clattering against plates, then two chairs scraping against the floor.

“That’s enough. Get out.” Rossi points at the door.

“With pleasure.” Spencer’s tone is cool as ice. In a fraction of a second, he rounds the table, grabs your boyfriend by his collar and drags him out of Rossi’s dining room, to the front door.

While the rest of the team crowd around you to check you’re okay, you’re shaking your hand and scrambling to stand, running outside. Spencer’s fists grip your boyfriend’s collar, pinning him to the side of his car.

“-and if I ever find you within a five mile radius of her, I’ll ruin your life without breaking a single law.” He seethes.

“She’s barely even my girlfriend, man, she doesn’t even put out! You can have her!” Your ex boyfriend holds his hands up in surrender while signing his own death warrant.

Spencer’s right hook sends him hurtling against the sidewalk, and Spencer is on him in the blink of an eye. Trapping him under his legs, Spencer delivers punch after punch, hearing bones crack with the force but only seeing red, until Rossi and Luke physically pull him off, and even then he tries to fight past them to carry on.

“Kid, kid, take a breath- you got him!” Rossi gently pats Spencer’s back, and with wide eyes like a deer in headlights, you appear in front of him.

“Spencer.” You breathe his name with an unnamed emotion, reaching up to cup his face in your hands, and his glazed over eyes that hadn’t been able to look anywhere but the bloody mess on sidewalk, find you in an instant.

Emily is already calling in some favors with the local police department to get this resolved with minimal assault charges, if possible.

“C’mon, inside.” You tell Spencer gently, taking one of his trembling, bloody hands in yours and guiding him back into Rossi’s house.

Taking him past the dining room, you find the kitchen and lead Spencer to lean against the empty counter beside the sink. Very carefully, you hold both of his hands under the cold water to wash them free of blood. It doesn’t take you long to realize the blood doesn’t just come from your ex-boyfriend. He’s running on adrenaline, breathing heavily, half watching you and half watching the doorway, as if expecting someone else to walk in that he has to take out to protect you.

Once his hands are as clean as you can get them, you retrieve some ice packs from Rossi’s freezer and hold them to Spencer’s swollen, bloody knuckles. You can’t look away from them.

“Are you in any pain yet?” You ask in a small voice.

“None.” Spencer answers sharply, gaze fixed on the doorway now because he can keep you in his peripheral vision, mind locked in fight or flight mode with an obvious winner.

“This is all my fault, Spencer, I’m so sorry- if I’d have broken up with him…” Your forehead drops to Spencer’s chest, pressing against the fabric of his black tie.

Those words catch him so off guard that he falters, and then frowns.

“None of this is in any way your fault.” Spencer states bluntly.

“If I’d broken up with him already, he wouldn’t have been here, wouldn’t have said those things in front of y- Spencer!” You cut yourself off when your reminder of what your ex had said has Spencer trying to move past you to go back outside and start right where he left off, having no choice but to grab his arm in an effort to stop him.

Realistically, you are not strong enough to hold Spencer in place. If he wanted to, he could push past you easily, but your hand on him could disarm a nuclear bomb if he was its power source.

“Don’t. Please. Stay.” You plead.

Like you ever have to ask.

Spencer settles back against the counter, one of his cold, bloody hands lifting to cup the back of your head, tilting your forehead back to his chest hold you there.

“By the same token, I could have prevented this, had I said what’s been unsaid.” Spencer murmurs into your hair.

“That’s way less fair than the point I made.” You remark, which has him smirking against the top of your head.

“Don’t get smart with me when I’m running on adrenaline.” Spencer warns playfully.

“Don’t get flirty when you just beat a guy to a pulp for disrespecting me.” You counter, causing him to scoff quietly.

“That reminds me, I must amend a previous statement.” Spencer says, and you can’t resist tilting your head back to look up at him, his hands immediately shaking free of their icepacks to cup your cheeks.

“Mhmm?” You press.

“I said all it would take for me to clock him would be him making you cry, this has proven to be incorrect. Based on my actions tonight, I can safely say if he made you cry, I would kill him.” Spencer speaks with a tone so soft you’d think he was complimenting you, his thumbs caressing your cheeks so tenderly while he threatens your ex’s very life.

“Wow. Big words for a man who hasn’t even taken me out on a first date.” You smirk.

“Moving a little fast, aren’t we, sunshine?” Spencer quips teasingly, his own smirk forming.

“A year of tiptoeing around each other while I was in a relationship is only moving a little fast by the standards of the romance novels you read, Doc.” You joke.

“Touché.” Spencer laughs fondly down at you. “Does this mean I can finally attempt to court you, fair lady?”

Butterflies that he singlehandedly commands, fly free in your stomach.

“I’d say so.” You answer softly, and Spencer breathes the deepest sigh of relief.

He leans down to rest his forehead against yours, ever so gently bumping his nose to yours in the most tender gesture of affection.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Spencer whispers, his breath fanning your lips.

“Anything.” You murmur.

Spencer smiles at the breathlessness he can already hear in your voice, solely caused by his proximity. Time slows to the most beautiful halt as he leans in, leaving the softest kiss at the corner of your mouth, barely even touching your lips.

“It was me who left a flower on your desk.”

[joeshiestyslover]

moth to a flame- m. sturniolo

pairing: matt sturniolo x reader

summary: you and matt have hated each other since you were kids, you two constantly bickering and arguing. however, there has always been an underlying tension, but you and matt have always chosen to ignore it. yet, the unspoken tension begins to break when another guy takes an interest in you.

warnings: language, angst, smut, oral (male receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do that), fluff, cheating (don’t do this either pls), nick once again being a g

masterlist

lowercase intended

a/n: does the smut suck? yes probably but it’s okay 😌

“you have a date? how much did you pay him?” matt asks you, a snark evident in his tone. you roll your eyes at his comment. “guys find me very likable, thank you very much.” you retort. “oh i’m sure.” he scoffs. “can you just shut the hell up?” you snap, looking into the eyes of the boy you’ve hated since freshman year.

you met the triplets when you moved to boston in the ninth grade. you shared a class with nick, and you two quickly hit it off. he then introduced you to his two brothers, matt and chris. chris was super sweet and welcoming towards you, but matt was the complete opposite. he barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was to make some snide remark. at first, you let it slide, thinking he was just uncomfortable around new people, but the mean comments never subsided, so one day, you snapped back at him, much to his surprise. thus began the endless fighting and screaming matches between the both of you. it got so bad that nick and chris wouldn’t allow you two alone in the same room out of fear that you might kill each other. you two found ways to argue about anything, even things as stupid as what the best soda is.

although you hate matt with every fiber in your being, you still love nick and chris as if they were your own brothers, and they obviously felt the same. when their youtube channel first blew up, you were always by their side to support them. eventually, they decided they were going to move to los angeles, and they asked you to go with them. you immediately accepted because the course you wanted to study in college had great programs in los angeles.

you’re currently in the triplets’ apartment, telling them about the most recent development in your life: you got a date. “y/n, just ignore matt.” nick interrupts yours and matt’s squabble. “so, what’s his name? how did you meet him?” nick asks excitedly. “well, his name’s blake and we met at the coffee shop on campus.” you smile. matt rolls his eyes. “blake? the guy sounds like a douchebag.” “and you would know all about douchebags wouldn’t you?” you ask with a false sweetness in your voice. “what the hell is that supposed to mean? you saying i’m a douchebag?” matt narrows his eyes at you. “if the shoe fits.” you shrug. “okay can you guys not for like two seconds?” chris asks. you raise your hands up in surrender, “fine but he started it.” “sure blame me for everything.” matt says sarcastically. “fuck off.” you reply. “guys seriously, stop.” nick tells you sternly. “anyway where are you and blake going?” chris asks, trying to lessen the tension between you and matt. “we’re going to this restaurant down the street from my apartment. it’s pretty nice actually.” you tell him, smiling slightly. you then stand up and grab your car keys. “i’m gonna go get ready, and i’ll tell you guys all about it after.” “you better!” nick yells out after you as you walk out the door towards your car.

nick watches you leave, then turns to matt, “we need to talk.” matt raises an eyebrow, “okay…” he says hesitantly, setting down his phone. “what the fuck is up with you and y/n?” “what do you mean?” matt asks. “you two have been at each other’s throats for years! it’s so exhausting watching you two constantly fight over dumb shit!” nick yells at him. “what about her? why is she not included in this conversation?” he retorts. “because you started this shit! you were awful to her when you first met! this whole situation could have been avoided if you were man enough to tell her you like her!” matt’s taken aback by nick’s outburst. “tell her what?” he asks, hoping he heard his brother wrong. “come on matt, it’s obvious that you like her.” nick deadpans. “you’re kidding right? she’s disgusting, and not to mention, a total bitch. how you guys tolerate her shit, i’ll never know, but i sure as hell won’t.” matt rants. “okay matt, whatever you need to tell yourself.” chris adds, rolling his eyes. “you agree with nick? seriously?” matt turns to the youngest triplet. chris just shrugs, “i mean, yeah. i might be an idiot, but even i can tell that you like her.” matt scoffs, “fuck you guys. i’m going for a drive. i’ll be back later.” he stands up and grabs his keys. he then walks out the front door, making sure to slam it shut.

matt gets into his car and begins to drive, not knowing where to go. during his drive, thoughts of you begin to invade matt’s head. there is absolutely no way he likes you. you’re annoying, you’re stubborn, and you’re just so insufferable to be around. sure, you’re conventionally attractive, but that doesn’t mean anything, it actually pisses matt off more because he doesn’t understand how such a pretty face could have such an awful personality paired with it.

after driving for a while, an idea pops into matt’s head. matt knows you well enough to know which restaurant you would go to because it was always one of your favorites. he begins to drive that way and plots what he’s going to do once he gets there. after a few moments of contemplating, he decides to just sit a couple of tables away from you and your date, just to make you uncomfortable and on edge.

he arrives at the restaurant and walks in through the large glass doors at the front of the building. the moment he walks in, he can spot you and blake in the back. you’re laughing at something he said, and an unfamiliar feeling began to pool in the pit of matt’s stomach. his thoughts are cut off by the hostess coming up to the stand, “how many?” she asks. “umm just one, and is there any way i can get a table back there?” he points to where you’re sitting. “of course. follow me.” she smiles as she begins to walk towards the your table, matt following close behind. “here you are, sir.” the hostess sets the menu down on the table before walking away. he sits down and looks at the menu, waiting for you to notice his presence.

as you’re talking to blake, you notice a familiar head of hair out of the corner of your eye. you look over an see matt sitting diagonally across from your table. your eyes widen when your eyes meet his. what the fuck is he doing here? you try your best to ignore him, but you can see him continuously glancing at you. blake notices you looking over to your right. “are you okay, y/n? is something wrong?” he asks. your eyes snap back to his. “no i thought i saw something, but i didn’t.” blake just shrugs and continues talking. you try to listen to his words, but you can’t. your mind constantly drifts back to the brown-haired boy sitting to your right.

after a couple hours, and some very awkward glances to matt, your date finally ends. you and blake bid each other goodnight before you walk back to your car. you see matt walking to his own car and you send him with a death glare, to which he just responds with a cocky smile. you wait for him to drive out of the parking lot, and once he does, you follow him home, wanting answers as to why he thought it was a good idea to crash your date.

as he pulls into his garage, you park on the street. you turn your engine off and get out of the car, storming through the front door, where you see matt standing in the kitchen. you walk over to him and slam your purse down on the counter.

“why do you feel the need to ruin every good thing that comes my way? what do you have to gain from that?” you ask matt frustratedly. “i don’t ruin every good thing. i just wanted to make sure he’s good for you.” he replies nonchalantly. “that’s not for you to decide matthew!” you yell, moving closer to him. “y/n, you just need to trust me.” his calmness is pissing you off even more. “but i don’t trust you! all you’ve done since we met is berate me and talk shit about me! how can i trust your words when i can’t even trust you?!” you begin to wave your arms frantically. “look,” he begins, “i know guys like that and i just-” “guys like what matt? guys like you?” you ask accusingly. “no. guys that will treat a girl right until they get into her pants and then leave once they get what they want.” you scoff at his words. who does he think he is? “you don’t know what you’re talking about. did he say something to make you believe he’s like that?” matt averts his gaze to the floor. “no, but i have a feeling.” you laugh, not believing the words that are leaving his mouth. “a feeling? so you just made it up.” he looks back up at you. “god, i didn’t make it up y/n! stop being so naive and open your fucking eyes!” matt begins to raise his voice. “you are such a fucking asshole! you have no right to stick your nose in my love life! just because no one wants you doesn’t mean you get project that onto me!” you yell in his face, seething with rage. matt’s face turns cold, his eyes boring into yours with a look you can’t make out. he remains silent for a few seconds. “what no snarky comment? did i hit a sore spot? it’s so pathetic that you’re so insecure that you feel the need to-” you’re cut off by a pair of lips smashing against yours. your eyes widen and you can feel yourself almost melting into the kiss before you realize who it is you’re kissing. you quickly shove him backwards, and matt stumbles a little. you look into his eyes, the both of you saying nothing. you don’t know what comes over you, but before you can think it through, you take a step forward, grab the back of his neck, and press your lips against matt’s once again. the kiss is rough, teeth and tongues clashing together. 

matt’s kisses begin to fall from your lips to your neck, biting and sucking as he goes further and further down. “matt” you moan breathlessly. “what is it baby?” he asks in a husky voice and you could cum from just the sound of his voice. “we should go to your room.” you say between small moans. you can feel him nod against the crook of your neck as he put his hand under your ass to pick you up. you immediately wrap your legs around his waist as he begins to walk towards his room. you get into his room and he sits down on the edge of his bed, so now you’re in his lap.

matt removes his head from your collarbone and he finds your lips again. you subconsciously begin to move your hips against his, a soft groan leaving his lips and you can feel yourself clench at the noise. matt’s hands slowly trail up your back and you can feel his right hand grip your hair. he gives it a quick but firm tug, pulling your head back which gives him the opportunity to attack your jawline. “matt please.” you breathe out, needing his touch. “what do you want, baby?” he asks, knowing damn well what you want. “i need you.” he looks up at you with a smirk on his face. “yeah? then show me how bad you need me.” you feel his grip on you relax slightly, so you get off his lap and drop to your knees. your eyes immediately find the large tent in his sweats. you can feel your mouth water with desire.

you grab his dick through his pants and matt lets out a light gasp. “don’t tease me baby.” you bite your lip and tug his sweatpants down to his thighs, his extremely hard dick slapping against his stomach. you wrap your hand around his base and begin to stroke him up and down. you then bring your lip to his tip, giving it a few kitten licks. matt’s hand finds your hair and forces himself down your throat. you feel your eyes begin to water as you find your rhythm. you continue to bob your head up and down and pump what you can’t fit in your mouth. “fuckkk” matt moans, his hand tightly gripping your hair. “i’m gonna cum baby.” you quicken your pace and you can feel your cunt dripping, making a mess between your thighs. matt’s groans become louder and louder as he feels himself getting closer. his dick twitches in your mouth and you still your movements, feeling his thick ropes of cum hitting the back of your throat. you swallow every drop before pulling off him, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath.

“fuck that was so good.” he praises you as he grabs your hands and leads you back onto the bed. he flips the two of you around so now he’s on top of you. “you’re such a good girl for me.” he says before he kisses you again. he bites your bottom lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth. you can feel his dick sliding up and down your clothed cunt. “please fuck me matt.” you whine against his lips. “patience baby.” he demands. his hands find the waistband of your pants, yanking them down so your bottom half is only covered by your thin panties. he looks down and sees the wet patch that covers the bottom of them. “holy fuck you’re soaked. you really liked sucking me off that much, huh?” he then gets up on his knees and takes his shirt off, revealing his toned stomach, and you can somehow feel yourself become wetter. “how bad do you want me?” he asks you cockily. “so bad matty. please fuck me.” he chuckles, “so needy.” he then lines himself up to your leaking hole, swiping his tip against your clit a few times before sliding himself inside you slowly. you let out a loud moan and he covers your mouth. “shhh baby. we don’t want nick or chris to hear how good i’m making feel do we?” you shake your head as he continues to rut his hips into yours. he removes his hand from your mouth and it soon finds its place on your throat. “fuck you’re so fucking tight. oh my god.” he throws his head back in pleasure as you moan out his name. “you’re such a little slut for me aren’t you? you like it when i fuck you like this?” he smirks down at you, admiring the way your jaw was slack and your eyes rolled back. he tightens his grip around your neck as a warning, “answer me or i’ll stop.” “fuck yes matt i love it.” you moan out. he takes his hand off your neck and trails it down to your clit. he begins to rub it in small, tight circles and you can feel the coil in your stomach begin to form.

“fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum soon.” he picks up his pace, going harder as his hand rubs your clit faster. you can feel yourself begin to clench around him, matt starting to let out broken moans at the sensation. “you gonna cum baby?” you nod, on the verge of cumming around him. “give it to me baby. cum on my dick.” he urges. at his words, you let go, letting out a loud and long moan as you release around his dick. matt’s pace begins to falter as he feels himself about to fall apart too. “where do you want it baby?” “inside me please.” you beg. he twitches inside of you and you can feel him cumming inside you, painting your swollen walls white as he lets out a groan of your name. he stills inside you for a few seconds before pulling out. he gets up from the bed and walks to his bathroom. you feel the sink run and turn off and he returns to the bed with a damp towel. he begins to clean you up a bit before tossing the towel to the side. he crawls towards you and lies down next you, pulling you into his arms.

you both lie in his bed for a few more minutes before you speak up. “this can’t happen again.” matt turns to look at you, “why not?” he questions. “i don’t want to hurt blake. he’s a good guy.” matt scoffs. “sure he is.” he says, sarcasm evident in his tone. “you don’t even know him matt.” you try to reason. “i don’t need to know the guy to know he’s an asshole. his name’s blake, and that says enough.” you roll your eyes at his childish behavior. “okay matt whatever.” you pull the covers off your body and you begin to put your clothes back on. matt grabs your arms and spins you around to face him. he looks into your eyes for a few moments before crashing his lips against yours. you want to pull away, but you can’t. the kiss becomes more and more heated as he backs you up until you’re both lying on the bed with him on top of you. “this is the last time.” you demand, knowing that’s probably a lie. “no it’s not.” he says against your lips as he begins to trail kisses down your neck.

weeks pass by, and you and matt are still hooking up. because of this, you’ve become more tolerant towards each other. you don’t necessarily like one another, but you can at least go a day without arguing. nick and chris begin to notice the change in dynamic between the both of you. they don’t ask questions because they’re just happy you all can hang out without the two of them being caught in the middle of one of your petty arguments.

much to matt’s dismay however, blake is still in the picture. you haven’t become official with him yet, but you both have gone on many more dates and even kissed a few times. of course, you felt bad for lying to blake, but what are you supposed to do? you just can’t escape matt. you’re a moth to his flame. you’ve come so close to breaking it off with matt, but each time you fail, somehow always ending up naked in his bed.

this is one of those times. you came over to the boys’ apartment to break it off with matt, but of course, you couldn’t. instead, you’re pinned against the wall of his bedroom. “matt we can’t keep doing this.” you breathe out against his lips. “doing what?” he asks, backing away and raising one eyebrow. “hating each other in public and fucking in private. i can’t do that to blake.” you try to reason with him, but matt simply rolls his eyes. “then just end things with him. i told you he isn’t good for you.” “he’s a good guy, matt.” you reply. matt takes a step closer to you, “well, if he’s such a good guy, then why are you here? why aren’t you with him?” he asks, knowing the answer. you look down and shake your head, “i don’t know. i shouldn’t be here. i should go.” you grab your purse from the counter and swing it over your shoulder, but before you can walk towards the door, matt grabs your wrist. “wait, don’t go.” you turn towards him, “why not?” there’s a few seconds of silence before matt answers your question. “i don’t want you to.” “okay.” you concede.

about a week later, you get a text from blake, asking you to go over to his apartment. you get into your car and drive to his place. you get out and walk up to his door, knocking twice. he open the door with a smile on his face, and it fills you with guilt. he invites you in and sits you down on his couch. “so i invited you here because i wanted to ask you something.” he begins. you nod, nervous for what he’s about to say. “i wanted to know if you would be my girlfriend.” he asks hopefully. you sigh softly and look down. you can’t hold it in any longer. you can’t keep lying to the poor guy. “look, you’re an amazing guy, don’t get me wrong, but i can’t” you tell him. his smile drops instantly. “oh. can i ask why. i thought we were doing good.” “i’m just not ready to be in a serious relationship. i thought i was, but now i know i’m not.” it’s not totally a lie. you’re not ready for a relationship with someone that isn’t matt. “okay i understand.” he says sadly. “i think i should leave. i’m so sorry blake, but i know you’ll find someone as great as you are.” you smile to try and lift the mood. he just nods while staring at the ground. you stand up from his couch and walk out the door, wracked with guilt.

you get in your car and drive to the triplets’ apartment, needing to talk to matt. you have to tell him how you feel. you arrive at their apartment and place your car in park. you walk up to the door and knock. you wait for a few seconds before the door opens, revealing matt. “hi.” you break the silence. “what’s up? you need something?” he inquires. “i actually need to talk to you.” you can feel butterflies in your stomach as you rock back and forth on your feet. “ummm okay come in.” he motions for you to enter the apartment. you walk inside and matt closes the door behind you. you both stand in the living room and you set your keys and phone down on their counter. he stands there, waiting for you to speak.

“i broke up with him” you break the silence. “what? why?” matt questions, his head immediately perking up. “you were right. he wasn’t good for me.” he scoffs, “well no shit. what does that have to do with me?” “i also broke up with him because i realized something.” are you really about to do this? are you really about to confess your feelings to the boy you’ve hated for years? matt gives you a look, telling you to go on. “i know we’ve always hated each other, but since we started sleeping together, i realized that i don’t want blake. i want you, and not just in a sexual way. i want to actually be with you.” you take a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding, waiting anxiously for his response, but he says nothing. “matt? please say something.” matt looks down at the floor and shakes his head slightly. “i can’t, y/n.” he says softly. “can’t what?” you’re confused now. what the hell does that mean? “i can’t be with you.” your heart drops. “why not?” you ask. “i… i just can’t.” you’re start to become irritated at his words. “what can’t you do matt?!” “i can’t give you what you want. you want to date and do couple-y stuff and i can’t do that.” his gaze remains on the floor. “so i’m good enough to fuck, but not good enough to date?” you ask condescendingly. “that’s not what i’m saying, i just-” “you just what matt?! what is so awful about being in a relationship?!” you begin to yell. “i don’t do relationships! the fact that you’re whining and screaming about it is the reason i don’t! you’re being fucking dramatic and i’m sick of it! we’re not dating and we’re never going to so just accept it and stop being so fucking clingy!” he yells back at you. your jaw drops to the floor at his words. “fuck you matthew. don’t text me again.” you walk towards the front door, making sure to bump his shoulder on the way out. you open the door and slam it shut, shaking the walls of the apartment.

hearing the commotion, chris and nick walk downstairs into the living room. “what the hell happened?” nick asks. “nothing happened. she’s just being a bitch as usual.” matt replies, rubbing his temples. “what did you say to her?” nick sighs, knowing you’d never react that way unless matt said something really fucked up. “i don’t wanna talk about it.” nick scoffs. “well too bad. if i just lost my best friend because of you then we’re gonna talk about it.” nick and chris drag matt over to the couch and sit down. matt sighs and begins to explain everything that happened between the two of you. “why would you say something like that to her?” chris asks him, disappointed in his older brother. “i told you, i’m not a relationship guy.” nick looks at him with a look of worry. “but do you like her?” matt looks at him and nods. “then tell her that you dumb fuck! you just broke her heart for no reason!” he yells in matt’s face. “look, i can’t do this right now. i’m going to bed.” matt sighs softly as he walks out of the room.

as soon as matt gets into his room, he shuts the door, lying down in his bed. his mind is racing with thoughts of you. nick was right. he should have told you that he wanted to date you too, but he was too much of a pussy to actually say it, so he hurt you instead. matt knows you’re probably still mad at him and would slam the door in his face if he went over to your house now, so he decides to wait a day or two. after contemplating it, matt walks over to nick’s room and opens the door, knowing he needs help getting you back. “how do i win her back nick?” he sits down on his brother’s bed. “look, i don’t know if she would take you back for sure, but what you need to do is give her a heartfelt apology and tell her how you feel. that’s your best bet.” matt nods, taking in everything he says. “and flowers. get her some flowers.” “i’ll go over there tomorrow.” matt states. “good because if i lose my best friend, i’ll actually kill you.” nick says with a glare.

the next day, matt woke up ready to prove to you that he wants to be your boyfriend. however, the anxiety was pooling in his stomach. what if you didn’t want him? what if you went back to blake? he tried to push those thoughts out of his mind, but they still lingered.

once he gathered the courage, he got up out of bed, throwing on a sweater and some jeans. he looks at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair until it looks presentable enough. matt throws on his shoes and grabbing his keys. he begins to walk towards the front door when he passes by nick on the couch. “good luck matt.” nick tells him. matt just nods and walks out the door towards his minivan.

on the way to your house, he stops by a flower stand and gets you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, hoping that it’s enough for you to forgive him. as he speeds toward your house, matt’s mind is going a million miles a minute. he’s continuously going over what he’s going to say to you in his head. his thoughts are cut off by him arriving at your apartment. matt looks at himself in the mirror once more before grabbing the flowers and stepping out of the car.

matt walked up to your front door and took a deep breath before knocking. he waited a few seconds then the door swung open, revealing you. your hair looks disheveled and your eyes puffy. “what are you doing here?” you cross your arms at the boy. “i’m sorry y/n. i’m so sorry.” he holds out the flowers for you to take. you grab them hesitantly and turn around to put them in a vase. matt follows you inside towards your kitchen. “so are you gonna tell me what you’re doing here or can you leave now?” you ask, a harsh tone in your voice. matt sighs, “you were right. i’m an asshole. i never should have said those things to you. i was just so scared.” you tilt your head to the side. “scared? of what?” “what i feel for you, what i’ve felt for you since i met you, it’s unlike anything i’ve felt before. i’ve been in love with you for years, and i was too fucking stupid to tell you. i’m sorry for everything i’ve done to you over the years. you didn’t deserve any of it.” you can see matt’s eyes start to become glossy as you step towards him. “what changed all of a sudden? last night you were dead set on not being with me, but now you do? that doesn’t make any sense matt.” you tell him, still skeptical. “nick and chris laid into me last night. they made me realize that i hurt you for no reason and that i was being selfish. i told you i didn’t want to be with you, but it was a lie. being with you is all i’ve ever wanted and when it was right in front of me i panicked. i know that i probably fucked everything up, but please, if there’s any part of you that can forgive me, please give me one more chance. let me prove to you that i can be the man you deserve.” you take a deep breath, tears beginning to invade your waterline. you want to tell him off so bad. you want to tell him that you would never take him back, but you can’t. before you can overthink it, you take a few steps towards matt and wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. “do you really mean it?” you ask him softly. “i mean it baby. i promise i’ll never hurt you again.” he pulls away and looks down at you with a small smile on his face. you reciprocate the smile as he begins to lean down. your lips brush against each other before he presses his lips against yours. the kiss isn’t like any other kiss you’ve shared before; it’s soft and sweet instead of hard and rough. you both break away and rest your forehead on his. “you’re so beautiful, y’know that?” you feel your face heat up and a smile forming on your face. “shut up.” you tell him before reaching up and kissing him once more.