#and hearing from coworkers that they enjoy working with me cos i make them feel like even if the building is all but literally on fire----

[ashtcnirwin]

🌻

[seospicybin]

THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

PART 2

Bangchan x reader. (s)

Chapters: Part I

Synopsis: To help you moving on from your break-up, Chan takes you out for a night. However, he doesn't expect you will find a potential new love in someone else. (9,5k words)

Author's note: Here's one you've been asking for. Please tell me what you think about it! Nevertheless, enjoy x

"I think we're done for the day, huh?" You sigh in relief after dumping the dirty towels into the laundry bag and tossing it to the back room.

"No, actually, someone just walked in and wanted a haircut," your co-worker says while holding a stack of clean towels in front of her.

"Keem can have it," you resolve, you've finished all of your appointments for the day, and you're tired and ready to go home.

"Yeah, that's the problem. He specifically asked for you," your co-worker answers, putting the towels into the shelf full of them.

You plant your hands on each side of your waist and shoot a puzzled look at your coworker, "Huh?"

Is this customer aware that the salon is about to close and there's another hairstylist on duty? That exciting feeling of getting home soon is slowly fading as you head in to meet this customer who specifically asks for you.

The second you walk in, Keem, the other stylist, grabs your elbow and then leans into your side to whisper, "He's so cute."

Hearing it doesn't lift your mood at all, you just want to get it over with and go home.

"Where?" You ask as you put on your apron.

"He's right there," she whispers, pointing to the middle seat hidden behind the big mirror then detaches herself off you to go back behind the counter.

For a customer who chooses an awful time to get a haircut, you put on a phony smile and shove your hands into the pockets of your apron as you greet.

"Hi, what can I do for... You!" The infliction in your voice changes as you see who that customer is.

It's the shit-eating grin, the stupid dimples on his stupid face and

"It's enough torture to have you as my neighbor and now I have to you see at work too," you say as you cross your arms together in front of you.

"Oh, wow, is this how you treat your customer?" He says with a fake concerned look.

"Only the select few," you say with a sinister smile.

"I made it on your list of honors? Is this because we had sex—"

You hurriedly cover his mouth with your hand and make sure no one is seeing what you're doing to him, or worse, letting them acquire that piece of information.

"What do you want?" You scold him with a piercing glare.

He takes your hand off of his mouth and dramatically gasps for air, "I want a haircut," he simply answers.

With a huff, you swivel his chair to face the mirror and grab the cape for him, putting it around his neck, then clip it together. You put on a phony smile as you look at him through the reflection in the mirror.

"So, what do you want me to do with your hair besides setting it on fire?" You sarcastically ask him.

It's amazing how his grin doesn't wear off even just for a second, "We don't need to cut much, I guess just the tip," he says.

"Just the tip," you repeat, "Is that the title of your sex tape?"

Chan cracks a sonorous laugh, "That's a good one!"

Once you hear the sound of the scissors snipping away the hair, you get in the zone. You focus on giving his hair a nice shape that accentuates his strong jawline and makes his facial features more prominent.

"Don't talk much, huh?" He asks, slightly turning his head to the side.

You grab the nape of his neck and forcefully turn his head back to the front, "just here trying my best not to snip you somewhere else," you calmly mutter.

"Ooh, chills!" He responds with a shudder.

You switch your scissors with a hair clipper and it starts buzzing as you turn it on, you're holding it in his hand as you look at him and say, "You're going to regret coming here and allowing me to be this close to you with a sharp object."

Seeing you bringing the hair clipper close to his face, he reflexively closes his eyes so tightly and you hold the urge to not laugh at it.

"Oh, okay, I regret it now," he says like a frightened child left alone by his parents.

You gently place your hand on his jaw, "Stay still," you warn him.

He obeys you, keeping his head still and his eyes closed as you're carefully trimming his sideburns. You suddenly find yourself admiring his face and his beautiful features of a long, big nose and voluptuous lips.

For a split second, you so badly want to run your thumb on his lips and feel how soft they are. You did feel it once with your lips but you were too sad to notice and now you realize how much you regret it.

Before the temptation returns, you turn off the trimmer and put it away, then proceed to help brush the hair on his face and around his neck with a soft brush.

"You're all done," you announce, taking the cape from around his neck.

Chan stays on his seat as you brush the excess hair off the nape of his neck and make sure they don't stick to his skin. You put all of your equipment on the cart next to you and anticipate his reaction to your haircut.

Not trying to brag here but you did a good job here because he looks even more attractive with a fresh cut.

"Aren't you going to tell me how handsome I am and then kiss me on the cheek?" He asks while blinking his big eyes at you.

"I'm not your mom," you reply with a plain smile.

"I'm waiting for you."

When you think you already got rid of him after giving him a haircut, you see him lounging around the counter and putting on his charms for Keem. You plan on keeping it a secret that you know each other but if he starts flirting with your co-worker, then there's a possibility you'll see her walking out of his apartment the next day and it only gets messy from there. You come up to him and tug at the sleeve of his jacket, then pull him to the side.

"Why are you still here?" You ask through your gritted teeth and keeping your volume low.

"Why?"

"Because we're going out tonight," he answers.

"We?"

"And no, my panties are not in a twist," he says with a teeth-baring grin, "You can check it yourself if you want."

"Ugh. No!" You groan in refusal.

What is it about him anyway that makes the girls go crazy for him? If you're thinking with your depraved, brutal, and cavewoman brain, it must be the body that is inexplicably electric and sexually charged, braced with heavy muscles, and injected with a high dose of testosterone. In other words, he's hot, and it's hard not to be biologically attracted to him. But if you're thinking progressively and in the 21st century way, you know you should avoid this fuckboy at all costs.

"Ugh. Okay," you groan in agreement this time.

"If you don't want to go then I'll just take Keem," he says, secretly threatening not only you but also your workplace dynamic.

"I'm sure she's keem for it," he makes a pun.

And then, there's something called human error.

-

At first, Chan thought that you have that stoic expression only whenever you're around him but he was wrong. He learns that it's just your default expression and you wear it like a defense mechanism to keep the predators at bay. At least, he shouldn't worry about leaving you alone in the bar as he's working the DJ booth.

Once he's done with his set, he ignores the calls for his name and walks up to you, seeing you rather unimpressed by what he just did. What did he expect though? You're not most girls.

He taps the table, signaling the bartender to come and tend to his order, "The usual, please?"

The bartender nods and is about to turn away to make his drink when he calls for him again, "And one more for this nice lady," he adds, gesturing at you and flashing you a sly smile.

Chan turns around to face the dance floor and leans his back against the counter, "So, what do you think?"

"It was good," you answer after sipping your drink.

"You have a filthy expression on your face," he teases you and gently elbows your side, "go on, tell me what you're really thinking."

"Strangling you with my bare hands," you answer without a beat.

Chan leans in close enough that he can get a whiff of the smell of your shampoo, "so that's your kink?"

"Only when I see fear in your eyes," you answer with a wicked smile.

"Wow. You know how to excite a guy," he praises, not entirely lying about it because he gets a little excited from your snarky comments.

The bartender comes with both of your drinks and you hurriedly finish your previous one to go ahead with the next. He watches as you take a small sip and then waits to see how your nose scrunched at the bitter aftertaste.

"You're single now and maybe it's time for you to get out there, you know, find a new love," he says, secretly hoping that you'll find it in him when he looks at you.

"Hey, Chris," a girl comes and without hesitating, placing a kiss on his cheek, "Great set!"

"Thanks, Alicia," he says to the tall lady with beautiful braided hair.

"This one is on me," she says as she gives him a drink from the ones she ordered.

"Cheers then!" He says, clinking his glass with hers with his charming smile on.

The lady leaves to take the drinks away and is soon engulfed by the crowd. Chan notices that you remain calm about that interaction, and again, what did he expect?

"At least, one of us has no problems getting some tonight," you take a jab at him.

"I'm taking you out so we can have fun tonight and enjoy yourself—"

"The only way I can enjoy myself is when I'm alone."

"Oh?" He gasps and gives you a wild glare.

You roll your eyes and sigh once you realize he's taking it the wrong way, "I just want to go home and binge my favorite show and sleep," you finish your sentence with a big gulp of drink and he gets to see another nose scrunch from you.

The intention was to take you out of the apartment and perhaps, he can get you to loosen up a little bit, making this getting to know each other thing a little easier for him. It seems like he's forcing it on you and maybe it wasn't a good idea after all.

"Okay, then, we'll go home after this one," he says, lifting his glass close to his mouth.

"Or you can just stay here and do your thing, and I'm going home," you suggest a better idea after finishing your drink and you grab your bag as if you just can't wait to get out of here.

Chan is quick to grab your arm and stops you from leaving, "Hey, at least, let me finish my drink first," he protests.

"You don't have to leave with me. I can go home myself," you say to him.

"Just wait for me," he squeezes on your arm and adds, "Please?"

You consider it for a moment and then say, "I'll wait for you outside."

Since he's done a gig here, Chan has to make a proper exit out of the club, he greets a few people who work there and grabs his backpack of equipment, carrying it in his hand as he walks out of there. He finds you leaning against the street lamp and the light casts a glowing halo on your head, making you look like an angel... with a stoic expression.

He grins when you notice him coming, "Okay, I lied, there's another thing we have to do tonight," he says.

"Goodness, Chris, just bag a lady and call it a night," you groan in complaint.

Both of his eyebrows ratchet up at your words, "It has nothing to do with that."

"What is it then?" You cross your arms together in front of you.

"Only the best part of the night," he answers with a cryptic smile.

Chan knew he should have started the night with food. He can see that your mood gradually elevates with every bite you take from the delicious kebab he recommended to get after a boozy night out.

By the time you both arrive at the apartment building, you get all quiet like a drowsy child after a day out at the park and he finds it cute, especially with the way your lips slowly jutting out and you keep widening your eyes to stay awake.

"How about next Friday night we're doing it your way?" he suggests as he keeps the elevator door open for you with his back.

"If that means you'll leave me alone then yes," your eyes turn small as you politely moan into your hand.

"We're going to stay in and binge-watch your favorite show and sleep," he lists everything you mentioned earlier and an idea pops into his head.

"We'll have a pajama party!" He announces along with a poor imitation of tooting horns.

"No!" You flatly reject the idea.

"I'll bring the snacks," he offers.

You steadfastly shake your head.

"Then I'll keep knocking on your door until you let me in," he annoyingly moves into your side until he's rubbing elbows with yours.

"Then I hope you get abducted by aliens," you come out with an absurd wish and it cackles him.

"You would miss me," he confidently remarks with his signature grin.

"Doubtful. Very doubtful."

"Why?"

"I know I'd get to see you again someday—"

Chan can't help himself from smiling but little does he know, you're not done with your sentence yet.

"— in hell."

That wipes the smile off his face, "but I'm a good person. People like me," he says while making an innocent face.

"Because they don't know you, if they did, someone would have kicked your ass already."

"They'd try," Chan easily says with a nonchalant shrug, and at the same time, you both burst out laughing.

This is not flirting and he's aware there's something wrong with this interaction but you know what? He likes every bit of it.

Chan's heart sinks when it's time for the two of you to part ways and before you get to slip away from him, he tugs at the strap of your bag.

"Hey, can't wait for our pajama party," he says.

You pull your bag until the strap slips out of his hand and head to your apartment door.

"No response," he points out, "it's as a yes then."

"No!" You shout.

"So... it's a no?" He asks in confusion.

You push the door to get inside your apartment and lingers by the doorway, facing him.

"No," you cheekily respond and then close the door, leaving him with a different kind of thrill for what comes next.

-

From the way this person treats your door like a tambourine, you can safely guess that it's Chan knocking on the door for the so-called pajama party.

Ugh, why did you agree to it in the first place? It's so unlike you to let someone in on your space but it doesn't matter whether you let him or not, the boundaries have been crossed so many times that there's no such thing as personal space anymore.

Before letting him in, you check through the peephole, and just as you expected, he comes undressed, literally. He's standing on the other side of the door wearing nothing but gray sweatpants hanging low around his hips.

"Please have mercy on my eyes and put some clothes on!" You shout through the door with your hand holding the knob.

"I don't wear pajamas. This is what I wear to sleep," he responds and you can hear him faintly laughing with your ear pressed on the door.

"And what makes you think you're going to sleep at my place tonight?"

"I don't know. A hunch," he playfully responds.

"Pajama party is officially canceled!" You say through the peephole.

"Okay, okay, I'll put some clothes on," he sighs in defeat.

You watch through the peephole to see if he's really going to his apartment to change. With his broad shoulders, all hunched up, he walks back to his apartment and doesn't even bother to close the door, he grabs whatever lying close to him and puts the dark t-shirt over his head. Even under the poor lighting, the ridges of his muscles are visible and inviting you to feel it with your touch.

As though he knows he's being watched, he looks your way and then trudges his way back to your door. The first thing you see after you open the door for him is his big grin that sends his dimples sinking deep into his cheeks.

With a glare at his empty hands, you ask, "And where's the snack?"

Chan puts his arms on each side of the doorframe and leans in close, towering you with his big figure, proudly he answers, "Ma'am, I am the snack."

Can't tell if he's trying to charm you, intimidate you, or both, doesn't matter because he failed at all of them.

"But you promised!" You can tolerate people when they make jokes about anything but you can't accept when it involves food.

Chan takes his phone out of his pocket and shows it to you, "It's being delivered. See?"

Your jaws unclenched in a second and you open the door wider for him, "You may come in!" You sweetly say with a curtsy.

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" He says with a bow before steps into your apartment.

It's ironic how you prepared everything despite you were grudging it, you set the sofa, put some cushions and since he said he was bringing the food, you bought drinks for tonight.

"I have juice, soda, and beers," you list everything you have in your fridge as you're looking at it.

"We'll have the soda for now and beers for later," Chan strategically plans.

The food he ordered only lasts for two episodes and from there, you both run on beers and chips while sitting on opposite sides of each other on the couch with your feet touching.

"I like seeing white stockings on women," Chan comments after seeing the female character wearing it under her dress.

"This is why I hate watching with a man," you say in a condescending tone.

"I'm not even saying anything about her body," he defends himself and playfully rubs his foot with yours.

"Just shh..." you hush him, getting back at him by tackling his foot with yours.

The whole time the TV show is playing, your attention is on him, you're merely curious if he's genuinely invested in it or just wants to annoy you with his presence. From your observation, it seems like it's the former but the jury's still out.

"Wait, is that it?" He asks as the first season has just ended and the credit title rolls down the screen.

"That's the end of the first season," you say, starting to gather the trash on the table and put it into a plastic bag.

"But there's another season, right?" He says, looking distressed that the show ends with a cliffhanger.

"Yeah," you answer.

"Then let's watch it!" He says with a grin and slowly blinking his eyes at you.

"No, Chris, it's late," you show him the time on the screen on your phone that it's close to midnight.

"But I want to know what happens next and I need to know now," he speaks like a spoiled little brat.

You get up from the sofa to get rid of the trash, "You can watch it on your own."

Grabbing the back of your sweater, Chan pulls you hard until you plop down onto the sofa next to you then he puts his arm around you to keep you down.

"Let's just party all night, eh?" He persuades you as he leans in close to the side of your head you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek.

You leer to the side at him and ask, "I can't make you leave, do I?"

"Not a chance," he shortly answers.

Seeing that there's no other way to make him leave but to fulfill his wish, you give in and sit back down on the sofa as Chan hits the play button.

With your stomach full and the exhaustion from the day, and you feel snug on the sofa wrapped in your blanket, you're getting drowsy as the night gets late. You manage to stay awake for two episodes but not long after that, your eyes get really heavy and you can barely keep them open anymore.

Going to rest my eyes for a bit, you tell yourself in your head but close your eyes, slowly drifting into deep slumber.

-

It's not new that Chan wakes up not knowing where he is, he lifts his head and looks around, taking in his surroundings to give him clues of his whereabouts. One look at the TV screen that shows a question whether he's still watching or not, he immediately recalls where he is, what he's doing here, and—

"Owh!" He lowly gasps as you accidentally elbow him on the ribs.

There he is, lying next to you on the sofa, your back pressed close to his chest he can feel every rise and fall of your body as you're breathing. He doesn't know how it comes to this and he's not complaining though, if anything, it's an opportunity for him to admire you up close.

Cautiously, he removes the hair covering your face to the side and takes an intimate look at your facial features, first at your eyes with your eyelashes fanning out so beautifully, he runs his fingertip down your nose and eventually at your lips which he dreams of kissing.

Do you know that you're so beautiful yet so unaware of it?

Chan gently buries his nose in your neck and inhales your heavenly scent that gets him intoxicated, putting himself in a test of restraint that he'll be likely to fail. All of a sudden, you stir in your sleep and nuzzle closer as if you're seeking warmth from his body heat.

What did he just put himself into? He frustratingly asks in his head.

Soon enough, he can feel your body start to mold against him and it feels nice, you're fulfilling his need for this closeness but unfortunately, he can't control how his body is reacting to this as it wants to do more than just being pressed close to yours.

Chan carefully places his hand on your hips and quietly, he tries to push you away to make a safe space between your bodies even though he has to suffer the loss of your warmth against him.

As if your body knows what he's trying to do, you push back even further and the curve of your ass sits right on the bulge growing inside his sweatpants, putting him at a greater risk.

"Fuck!" he mouthes in distress.

If it wasn't for the TV light that casts a hazy glow on you, he wouldn't notice that your eyes are open and you're waking up to him with his hand on your hips which he's afraid only giving you the impression that he tries to pull you close instead of the opposite.

"I—" he can't say anything without sounding like he's lying because he knows that a greater part of him wanted it, wanting you.

In the next moment, he finds your hand reaching for him and unexpectedly, you put your fingers across his lips, asking him to stop talking as you bring his head close until your lips touch. He doesn't dare to do anything but when you stroke his lower lip with your tongue, his instincts take over.

To no one's surprise, Chan claims your mouth like a starved man.

However, Chan doesn't plunge right into it, he's starting the kiss with innocent brushes of his lips on yours and teasing licks before taking your mouth once again in a deeper kiss.

When he draws back, your lips are parted on soundless gasps of desire. It takes a moment for your eyes to clear enough to focus on him and with a low voice, he says, "I couldn't resist it."

He can't waste a second without kissing you so he indulges in another dizzying kiss, "I thought about kissing you all week."

Days, weeks, months, it comes to a blur to him but he learned the agony of waiting so he counts the time until his lips can reunite with yours again, hopefully, once and for all.

"Now, I can't seem to stop," As he speaks, he threads his fingers into your hair and angles your head back. He trails kisses along your jawline, nips your chin, and kisses the corner of your mouth.

A murmur humming in your throat as he kisses you yet again and your hand flies into his hair, fingertips lazily scratching at his scalp. You suddenly pull away from the kiss and gaze into his dark eyes, "Then don't stop."

So Chan hasn't been the only one, after all.

Planting his mouth on yours again, he twines his tongue with yours, and oh... this taste, this softness, your hand in his hair, kiss after kiss after kiss.

He allows himself to run his fingertips down the length of your arm and smiles when goosebumps ripple outward. Nuzzling your neck, he breathes in the soft scent of your skin and kisses the sweet spot just behind your jaw. Your lips are calling him, but instead, he sucks on your earlobe and bites it, startling a shaky sigh from you.

He allows himself to explore more by running his hand along the length of your body, cupping the curve of your breasts, and even through the layers of fabrics, he can feel the firm buds of your nipple. He so badly wants to pinch it, love on it, but there is too much fabric in the way. He simply resolves it by slipping his hand under and he finds your soft mounds in a second, not wasting another second to fondle on it.

As he kisses you harder, and you arch into his body, you're undulating your hips against the aching bulge inside its confine, forcing him to bite back his groan.

Oh, he hasn’t wanted someone like this in... Has he ever wanted someone like this?

He reels himself back to the present, glancing down at his pale hand and your nipple caught between his fingers, it's an erotic sight indeed that he can't resist pinching it and enjoying your sharp intake of breath.

"Chris..."

The sound of his name falling from your lips is just as unexpected as it is hot. He sees you breathe through your parted lips that's swollen and glistening wet from all the kissing, and then at your wide, lustful eyes that tell him you're ready for more.

An impatient hand glides down your stomach and slips beneath the waistband of your shorts, his gentle fingers caress you with slow strokes. He is touching you there, right where you need him and you shiver, then burrow closer to him as more goosebumps dotted your skin.

"My God, you're drenched," he says and with each syllable, his lips grazed your ear.

Your body clenched hard, clenched even harder when he presses a finger deep into you, filling you. He massages your clit with lazy swirls of his thumb, making you start trembling against him.

He lowers a kiss on you again, tongue and teeth invading your mouth and that's all it takes to send you climbing quick and sharp toward your release.

His mouth finds your ear and with his hot breath tickles you, he lowly asks, "Does it feel good?”

There's no answer but you sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you throw your head back, inhaling sharply. Chan can feel tiny muscles fluttering around his fingers, and he knows you are close.

He doesn't need to see to know the answer, he can feel it with his hand, "You’re drenching my palm," he whispers again.

With your hand in his hair, you bring his head close and peck his lips, "Chris, I want it," you mutter as you pull away.

You lightly nod, "Mmh-hmm."

"It?" He asks to confirm if you're thinking of the same thing and he's not taking the wrong sign.

"Condom?"

"No need," you shortly answer, "I'm on the pill."

A jolt of excitement surges all over his body just from the thought that he'll be inside you with no layer of protection and it utterly exhilarates him that he needs to calm down for a minute. He uses the time to remove your shorts and then his sweatpants next without taking his other arm from around you.

Once he settles himself behind you, he puts his hand between your legs, lifting a leg and putting it over his hips, allowing his hard member to get between your legs. It feels a whole lot different to feel how wet you are on every inch of his length.

"Feel that?" He asks you with his mouth nestled close to your ear and his swollen cock rubbing between your folds, "I'm aching for you."

Chan kisses your mouth, your jaw, your neck as hard flesh prodding at your sex, making you stop breathing for a moment and you feel nothing but a sensuous stretching that goes on and on until he seated himself fully inside you and oh, he fits perfectly.

"It's too good. You feel– oh... I'm going to lose it," he can't comprehend what he's feeling right now.

The heat, this tightness, so perfect for him and his body asks for nothing but more and more and more of you.

Responding to his body's needs, he withdraws and then thrusts back into you, soon enough, he sets a steady pace. His free hand slides down to your bundle of nerves, touching you there for added stimulation. You grip his wrist, seemingly intending to pull him away, but your hand refuses to cooperate.

The twin assaults of his fingers and his cock that fills you full kindle a flame inside you that spread all over you like wildfire. Your mouth is parted open but all that comes out are gasps and sighs of pleasure so instead of words, you communicate how you feel through your body. You spread your thighs wider and writhe to match his thrust for thrust.

There's nothing but the sounds of his hips slapping your ass and his cock that incessantly slipping in and out of you, and he likes how he finds peace despite his body being in pure chaos.

With his mouth lingering close to your ear, he knows you hear every shudder of his breath to the lowest of his sultry moans slipped out of his mouth, and honestly, he would have been embarrassed if it weren’t for your hand tangled in his curls and keep pulling him for a kiss, before finding his hand that rests on your chest and hold it.

"Perfect..." the word tumbles out of his mouth as your fingers slip right between the spaces of his fingers and lace it together.

"Ah, ah, ah," more moans fall out of your lips as you arch into him, and through it all, your eyes locked in a gaze with his, letting him see the pure pleasure that builds up inside you.

Chan has slept with a handful of people, but he’s never been so in tune with someone's body. He’s never been so desperate to please or so elated when he hears you cry his name as you cum around him.

The high takes you over and also your ability to move, speak, and think. You curl up, making you feel smaller against him. The hand interlaced with his tightens as he speeds up the motions of his hips and with one last deep thrust, he joins you in falling apart.

Using this tender moment to pour his affection for you, he's whispering your name and kissing you softly, then slowly, he eases out of—

"No, don't!" Your hand grabs at his hips, hard, nails digging into the flesh, "Stay."

Obeying your words, Chan holds you close, limbs to limb, skin to skin, hearts lying so close to each other with mere flesh and bones in between. He doesn't know what this was, but it sure as hell was not fucking. He kisses you hard and soft to find out.

It's when he pulls away and looks into your eyes that he figures out the answer as the most incredible feeling of being loved washes over him.

-

When Chan wakes up the next morning. He registers the sunlight on his face, the distant barking of a neighborhood dog, and the delicious smell of buttered toast and coffee, it's all around him and—

It just hits him that he's waking up on your sofa and he burrows into the blanket with a happy sigh once he recalls everything that happened last night to the tiniest details, summoning the butterflies to flutter around in his stomach.

The sound of your footsteps forces him to get out of his daze and he scrambles to get up when you walk past the sofa on your way to the kitchen.

"Morning!" He cheerily greets you while covering his naked lower half with the blanket.

Without looking and with your hands tying your hair, you fainty reply to his greeting, "Morning."

You didn't reply to his level of enthusiasm but that's okay, he just doesn't expect you to be this stoic this early in the day. Instead of searching for his sweatpants, he wraps the blanket around his hips like a towel and waddles his way to the kitchen.

"You're up early," he says, noticing that it's barely seven and he knows you usually leave for work a little after eight, sometimes close to nine.

"Early appointment. Have to do a client's hair. Wedding," you concisely explain as you quietly sip your coffee from a big red mug.

It's strange, the way you speak and how your eyes are looking anywhere but in his direction. For now, he's going to think that you're just tired and not fully meeting your dose of caffeine yet

"Okay, so what's for breakfast?" He asks, excitedly tapping the dining table with his hands and grinning at you.

"Toast and coffee," you say while standing on your toes to get a glass from the top cabinet.

"Anything but coffee, please?" He politely asks, watching you walk the other way to get a carton of orange juice out of the fridge.

It's a sunny day but the room shares the same temperature as the glass of orange juice you pour into his glass. He observantly watches you, searching for any clues whether this is how you are in the morning or something is actually off with you.

There's one way to know, first, he takes a small sip of his juice to help with his dry throat and then jabs around the topic, "Last night was fun, don't you think?"

There's no answer and he can't see your reaction toward it when you're standing with your back facing him and he begins to think that it's the latter.

"I'm thinking we should do this again next Friday but I'll get to pick what we're going to watch and you bring—"

"Chris, I'm sorry but..." You swiftly turn on your feet and check the time on the clock, "I have to leave now."

"Sure, yeah, you can't be late for a wedding," he playfully says while keeps searching for your eyes to make you look at him.

You walk around your apartment to gather your things, your phone, and your wallet, stuffing them into a purse. You grab another bag which he guesses is one you usually carry for work and that only confirms that you're indeed leaving for an appointment.

"You can stay for breakfast and use the spare keys to lock the door when you leave," you say those things in a hurry as you drag your bag to the foyer.

He turns on his chair to look at you as he jokes, "We've only slept together twice and you're already giving me your apartment keys?"

Unfortunately, the jokes fall short as he hears nothing but the sound of the knob turning and you're getting out of the apartment.

"Have a great day at work!" He shouts at you but all he gets in response is the door closing and then clicks in place.

Chan can't tell anymore if you're leaving for work or you're leaving him, but it feels like he's getting his karma for always being the one leaving in the morning.

-

It's wedding season and that explains why there are a lot of scribbles on your calendar, you have a lot of appointments to do this month, and you get so busy that he's hardly seeing you lately.

Work is one thing he can understand but you can't possibly work 24 hours a day without a day off, right? At one point, he should have caught you leaving or coming home from work, whichever it is, the chance never comes to him, not even once.

Chan begins to wonder if you're avoiding him, he knows because there's a slight difference to it and it's in the purpose. You've been purposely doing things to avoid him.

With an excuse prepared in his head, Chan comes knocking on your door the next Friday night. He's been keeping your spare keys and can easily let himself in but that would be impolite, he needs to be on your good side to earn your trust.

After a few times knocking with no answer, he lets himself in but not because he has the spare keys, the door is unlocked so he figures you must be at home and doing something that makes you unable to get the door.

"Anyone's home?" He shouts into the void in your living room and hesitantly walks further inside.

Hearing the loud humming of a hairdryer, he walks to your bedroom. Unexpectedly, you're coming out as he's about to walk in.

"Oh, God!" You gasp in surprise as you hold the front of your bathrobe together, "What are you doing here?"

In contrast, Chan laughs seeing your shell-shocked expression in his presence. He then crosses his arms together and leans the side of his body against the doorframe, not forgetting to wear his grin as he answers to you, "Just checking to see if my neighbor is alive."

"Well, I'm alive," You're talking as you're taking dresses out of your closet, "and I need your help."

Looking at your mood and the way you talk normally to him, he concludes that the thought that you've been purposely avoiding him was just a silly thought after all. Other than that, you need his help and he likes being needed by you.

"I'm at your service," Chan says, permitting himself to step into your bedroom and sit on the end of your bed.

You're standing in front of him, holding up two dresses in your hands, one is a white line dress with a v-neck and the other is a body-hugging velvet dress in a deep burgundy color. Both will look good on you but he needs to know one thing before he gives his vote.

"Are we going out tonight?" He playfully asks, feeling a buzz of excitement filling him.

You turn around to face the full-length mirror while holding the dress in front of you in turn to give you ideas on how it will look on you.

"I have a date," you tell him.

Hearing that, the excitement in his body vanishes in a second and is replaced by a cold shudder of panic. He tries to laugh it off in denial.

"A–a date?" He stammers.

"Uh-huh," You end up settling the dress situation yourself by choosing to go with the white linen dress, "Can you get out of my room so I can change?"

His subconscious has the tendency to obey you, he gets up from the bed and walks out of your room, and he lingers there by the door, contemplating whether he should push the conversation or not.

"With who?" He doesn't want to know but curiosity gets the best of him.

"A guy I met at one of the weddings," you share from inside your bedroom.

"Is this—" he pauses to swallow air, "Is this your first date?"

"Yes and I'm excited," your voice grows louder and soon, the door cracks open and you reveal yourself to him, "Now, tell me I made the right choice?"

He takes a staggering step backward and asks, "On the date or the dress?"

You take a look at yourself on the round mirror hanging on the wall, "Is it too casual? No?"

For a second, Chan forgets about the direness of the situation and takes a good look at you, the dress compliments your shape so well, the hem flares up like a blooming flower and the v-cut neckline offers a modest cleavage, perfect for a first date. If he has to be honest, even without the dress, it won't make you less comely but he hates that you look this good and it's not for him.

"You look... good," he tries to make it sound like your appearance doesn't make any impression on him.

You wipe the excess lipstick on the corner of your mouth then look over your shoulder, "And the date?"

He doesn't expect you to give him the chance to say something about it and obviously, he's going to try his best to intercept your plan.

"Don't you think it's too soon?" He follows you as you head back to your bedroom then stops at the doorway as you enter the bathroom after, "To get on a date."

You take off the hair rollers nestling on the crown of your hair and your hair flows down like big springs, then brush it down with your fingers.

"You told me yourself that I should get out there and find new love," you return his words to him.

That feels like he's just slapped himself in the face. Why did he tell you that? Oh, yeah, that's because he wants you to start opening up so he can let himself in and fill that position.

"But that's not– I just didn't think..." his words trailing off as he can't exactly explain the reason why he said it, not now at least.

You put all of your hair to the front then flip it all together to the back, you're shaking the end with your fingers, sending the sweet smell of your shampoo flying around in the room.

"Didn't think what?" You curiously ask as you apply a fresh coat of lipstick on your lips, the shade is bright red like a flamethrower.

"When I said you should start finding a new love, I was hoping that you could finally see me and..." he can't find another way of telling you without saying it out loud, "perhaps, you can find it in me."

That makes you stop whatever you're doing and turn around on your feet, leaning against the bathroom counter, you look at him in eerie silence, and then out of nowhere, a laugh bursts out of you.

"Chris, stop playing!" You brush past him on the way out of the bathroom.

He's trailing behind you as you pick up a purse from a collection of them in your closet, "I'm not playing," he assures you.

"Okay, yeah, I trust you," you half-heartedly respond, heading out and going to the foyer to pick your shoes next.

"Can you please look at me?" He pleads as he waits for you to make up your mind with your choice of shoes.

"Just look at me, please?" He begs again, desperately.

You take your chosen shoes and hold them in one hand as you hold his gaze, "Okay, I'm looking at you."

In those fierce eyes, Chan finds the courage to assess his feelings and tries to fathom them into words. He inhales air before letting it out in a long, low sigh.

"Don't go on that date," he demands.

"Why?"

"Because I want you here."

"Chris, that's not a good enough reason," you say with a low laugh.

He gently places his hands on each of your elbows and tenderly stares into your eyes, "Then go ahead, ask me that one question."

"What question?"

"Ask me what are we," he steadily holds your gaze even though he feels a whirlwind in his head and chaos stirring inside his chest.

You brush it off with a laugh, "Why should I ask you—"

"Just ask me the question!" He accidentally raises his voice at you and immediately lowers his voice after, he looks down to take a breather before looking back into your eyes, "Ask me what are we!"

It feels like an eternity waiting for you to ask him that but he has the patience and an answer to that, he only needs you to ask him that.

You drop the shoes onto the floor and take a step forward, you hold his gaze as he holds his breath. Deep down, he knows that you'd have to be blind to not see the light of affection in his eyes.

To his dismay, you unexpectedly retreat and pick up everything with you toward the door. With your back turned to him, you say, "I don't want to be late for the date."

-

It's been an hour since he came back from your apartment and he's still stuck in the denial stage. He's lying in the dark and stares at the ceiling of his bedroom, ignoring his phone that's been tirelessly blaring with notifications.

It's not a rejection if you don't give him a definite, abundantly clear answer, right? Besides, there's a chance that the guy blew the date and you can see that he's the better man. Is he though? Is he any better?

There are two ways to handle this situation. One, he can try to forget all about it, hit call back on one of the girls contacting him right now, get out of here, and distract himself with a physical release. Or two, wait because there's something in him that tells him to wait just a little longer.

But wait for what? Wait until you return from your date? Wait until he sees it happens, you with your new beau, all lovey-dovey next door?

It seems like he's finally progressed into the next stage: anger.

Every thought that crosses his head right now is not nice and he needs an outlet for this anger. He shoots up from the bed, he starts pacing back and forth in the room, hands balled into fists, he gets this urge to punch something, he wants to— No, he can't wait with this ugly feeling slowly taking over him and driving him insane.

"Fuck this," he curses out loud into the void in his apartment, he picks up his phone and texts someone about meeting up tonight.

While typing a text, knocking comes on his door, and whoever it is, they'd better not piss him off or— the knocking comes again, he exhales air out of his mouth to calm down and walks in heavy steps to get the door.

It seems as if his anger wasn't there in the first place, the second he opens the door and sees you, all of those nasty thoughts vanish into thin air.

You're carrying your shoes in one hand and the other is holding one side of the doorframe. You look at him with a smile ever so softly blooms on your face, "So..."

See? It wasn't a rejection. He just needed to wait a little longer and God, he was glad he did.

"So...?" He asks back, holding the urge to smile back at you.

You daringly stare into his eyes as you take a step into his apartment, "So... what are we, Chris?"

It's crazy how your magnetic field is so strong that he can't stand being this close to you and not touching you, his hesitant hands are reaching for you, they retreat and give, doing it for a while until you drop everything off your hands and put your hands around his shoulders. Indirectly permitted him to put his hands on you.

"What are we, mmh?" You ask again with your eyes flickering like they hold stars in them.

"We are..." he considers to let the truth out but what's the fun in that? He needs to get back at you for making him doubt everything earlier, "Neighbors."

"No," you shake your head in disagreement, "You're definitely going to say something else."

Luckily, he's strong enough to hold you steady as you put your whole weight against him, leaving not even an inch of gap between your bodies.

"Someone still has her panties in a twist," he playfully responds with his charming grin on, dimples and all.

"Shame on you because I don't have any panties on," you say with your small smile turning into a broad one.

His eyes widen in slight shock, and his hand automatically glides downward, landing a caress on the curve of your ass and slipping under the hem of your dress to check whether your words are true or not. His fingers edge at the lacy fabric of your underwear and it turns out to be the latter.

"Ugh, you're lying!" He groans in complaint but it doesn't make him less happy, he's elated, and his heart is about to burst.

"Partly."

"How so?"

"Because you're about to take them off," you shamelessly say.

Chan wants to let go of all the things that hold him back. He brings both of your lips together, he kisses you like you're oxygen and he's short on air. He runs his hands down your back to your hips, cupping your sweet ass, and pulls you even closer. You struggle to get closer as he kisses you deep and hard your head tilted to the back, you weave your fingers through his hair as you pour yourself into the kiss.

Everything that happened before this is in the past now, all he knows now is your taste and the hot sighs of your breath, and then this irrepressible want to devour you.

"I'm going to carry you to bed," Chan's plush lips brushing yours as he speaks.

The idea of carrying you to bed is highly appealing to him at the moment. He likes holding you and as messed up as it was, he wants to throw you onto the bed, in the most respectful way.

"Then what are you waiting for, kangaroo boy?"

A sharp gasp escapes your mouth as he swoops you into his arms and carries you in the direction of the bedroom. You have your arms looped around his neck to hold onto and place kisses along his jaw all the way to his bedroom.

Instead of throwing you onto the bed like he planned, he throws both of you onto the bed and it quakes, he immediately props an elbow against the mattress to not put his weights on you.

"God, you're so beautiful," his sigh tells how overwhelmed he is by what he's seeing and what a privilege that he's able to place kisses on such beauty.

When you try to gasp a mouthful of air, he breathes it into you with his hand resting on your jaw, you look up at him, and a starburst of emotion expands inside him. He thinks you see it in his eyes because you softly smile at him.

Giving you time to breathe, he shifts his focus elsewhere, he kisses and sucks on your neck, all the while his hands are keeping your body closely pressed against him, making you aware of the firm flesh prodding your crotch through his blue jeans.

The next thing is his mouth searching for the source of the heat and your body goes into total system failure as his mouth inches closer to where you want him. Between your thighs, you flush and tingle with wanting.

"This smell..." he hums as he buries his nose in your clothed sex, making you able to feel every sharp intake of air he inhales through his nose.

He pries his mouth open and plants it on your heating wetness, not caring about the lacy fabric that blocks him from tasting it raw.

"Mmh..." he deeply hums again, almost like the low roar of a wild animal hunting at night, "I want this smell all over me."

The intensity of your desire frightens and embarrasses you at the same time, you need a little control but control is gone when Chan tugs the waistband of your underwear between his teeth and begins to pull it down your legs.

He places his hands on the back of your thighs and slowly, lifts both of your legs upward as he keeps biting your underwear. You're watching as he tries to take it off of you with such determination.

Once he succeeds, he grabs the underwear from between his teeth and holds it up to show you his latest conquest, "Twisted panties no more," he says with a sly grin.

Instead of tossing it aside, he puts the underwear into the back pocket of his jeans, "I'm keeping it."

There are so many layers of clothing keeping him from feeling your skin but he can start by removing his t-shirt, having no problems showing you his taut muscles and his pale skin that reddens around the chest, neck, and both ears.

Next, Chan grabs your knees, he pulls them apart to bare your sex to his eyes and his chest expands on a sharp inhalation. The look on his face tells it all, he wants you, he wants you so bad that he swallows air, sending his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

It's the first time that he gets to see it open and bare, gushing with essence, tantalizing. He leisurely takes his time to admire it while plotting things he wants to do to it.

He rubs his hands down the sides of your thighs and lowly sighs, without his eyes straying away from the sight between your legs, he says, "You have the prettiest little—”

He thinks he's imagining it but he's not the only one hearing knocks on his apartment door. Sensing someone else's presence, your legs instinctively shut and you pull the hem of your dress down.

"Chris, are you expecting someone?" You ask with your forehead wrinkled in question.

"No," he shortly answers, he doesn't want you to think that he's waiting for someone else other than you, "I don't—"

The knocking comes again a while later, a little too aggressive that both of you can't ignore it anymore.

"Someone is knocking on your door," you say.

"Yeah, but I swear, I don't—"

You place your hand on his waist and look at him, "well, then, get the door and find out."

He'd rather have someone sawing him off of you than having to voluntarily get away from you, whoever this person is will be responsible for what's not going down at this moment.

"Only if you promise you won't change your mind," he tells you with a sly smirk.

"If you don't hurry and get the door, I might," you say back.

"Stay still. Don't move. Not even an inch," he pecks your lips for every warning with both hands cupping your face. He plants another long peck on your lips before dashing toward the front door and thinking of just sending this person away so he can get back to you.

This is where he makes a mistake. He doesn't check through the peephole and opens the door right away, having the faintest idea that catastrophe awaits on the other side of the door.

"Ah, there you are!" The girl says, jumping at him and immediately locking lips with him.

It happens so fast that by the time Chan registers it, the girl pulls away but keeps her arms looped around his shoulders.

"I came here as soon as I received your text," she grabs his chin and kisses his slacked-open mouth, "I hope I didn't make you wait long."

On the other end of the room, he hears your footsteps coming and soon, you come into his sight. You look so calm and he'd prefer a raging sea because with calm water, he never really knows what he's dealing with.

With an enigmatic smile, you look at him and say, "You know what, Chris? I change my mind."

-

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[leqonsluv3r]

picnic date with Leon 🥺

love

re2!leon kennedy x f!reader

— a oneshot (request)

warnings: so much fluff it’s kinda gross, a little touching, mentions of sex, reader is female and uses (she/her) pronouns, leon is the best boyfriend ever and we love him for that, no physical description of reader except that she has hair, pet names (baby, sweet girl, etc.) based heavily on love by lana del rey (leon is lana coded bc i say so).

“she didn’t know what else to expect to her already worse work week, besides the papers that always seemed to pile up on her desk and swarm her like a colony of hungry bees. she hated her job, wanted to slap her boss and her co-workers. so how could this week get any worse? she thinks it will when her phone buzzes with a text from leon, only to find out if she wants to go on a picnic date this weekend. suddenly, her week just got better by a thousand percent.”

— or reader is having a terrible week and leon decides to spoil his favorite girl

an: thank you for the request, i loved writing something that wasn’t pure smut for once. did include a little seggsy tho (i can’t resist). gave my overworked brain a little vacation lol. i took your idea and ran with it, hope you enjoy <3

masterlist taglist

she actually hated her boss. hated him.

aside from spilling coffee on herself this morning before she left for the office, she had a thousand reports on her desks and emails flooding her work inbox. her boss went on a rant about her work performance and the fact that he was almost using his superiority as a manager to make her feel belittled was enough to send her blood pumping through her veins.

but mindlessly, she tried to get through her day. taking deep breaths and trying not to freak out on her boss. only did her day get worse when she overheard gossip in the break room.

“i hear she’s like some prude. her boyfriend only touches her when he’s drunk.”

she listens in on the gossip, pouring herself some coffee that hopefully won’t make its way onto her pencil skirt again. she wondered who they could possibly be talking about so openly in the middle of the day in the break room.

the other voice goes on, one of her coworkers that she knew from working here so many years, “that’s not true. i know her personally. she told me she’s waiting for marriage.”

her ears perk up at this, all the blood draining from her face, she knew they were talking about her now. her worst fears have been confirmed. she should’ve never stupidly trusted someone she worked with to keep such information about her relationship with leon, private.

she felt so stupid. but they kept going and she kept listening. the other women who she didn’t know opened her mouth again, “still, how much of a prude do you have to be to wait until marriage? like just fuck and get it over with already. unless he’s ugly…”

she feels anger rise in her like tsunami. leon? ugly? he could never be ugly. he was so fucking beautiful. how could this random woman even say that about her and her relationship without even knowing her? she kept her back turned and waited for the coworker she was more familiar with to say something.

“he’s actually quite a looker. shame she got her hands on him, if i had a man like that. i would fuck him until he couldn’t see straight.” she fisted her porcelain coffee cup with white knuckles, almost fuming and waiting for steam to pour out of her ears. jesus, she wanted to smack this woman silly, she considered them friends and now she was just so openly bragging to another woman of the company…that she wanted to fuck her boyfriend of two years.

she fumed and briskly left the break room with her coffee, slamming the door to the room shut behind her as she briskly walked back to her office, trying to keep up a demeanor that was professional and meanwhile she was seething on the inside.

she finally reached her office and went inside, slamming the door as she rounded her desk and sat her cup of coffee down on it. she leaned her elbows on her desk, burying her hands into her hands.

she wanted to cry, this week had been terrible and today was one of the worst out of all of them. and she needed to manage to get through it until after tomorrow.

thanking god it was thursday, one more day and she wouldn’t have to think of this place for a solid 48 hours. she took shaky breaths, trying to calm herself so she didn’t cry at her desk at work. she was still fuming from hearing that conversation in the break room about her personal life.

eventually, her phone buzzed on her desk and she looked down at her phone. she sighs and shakes her head, praying it’s not another report or upset client. she can’t handle anymore of that today, or this week for that matter.

she grabs her phone and looks at the contact, it was leon, she sighs in relief and smiles as she opens the text thread, looking at the screen.

LEON <3 : hey baby, just wanted to check in on my break. hope your doing okay, know it’s been a rough one for u.

besides wanting to cry at my desk all morning. first my boss says my reports are useless and utter shit. then i hear two of my coworkers gossiping in the break room about me like it’s no big deal. i hate this place, this week has sucked :(

LEON <3 : whoa, what? oh my god. are you okay? i know that’s so stupid to ask considering everything u just told me but…god. i’m so sorry.

no, i’m humiliated. i feel like stabbing my eyes out with my pencils at my desk. i hate this place, i hate everyone. minus u ofc <3

but seriously, i can’t wait to get through tomorrow and just be done with this place. even if it’s for two days.

LEON <3 : hmmm, that reminds me. do you still plan on coming over on friday night?

uhhh, yeah. considering i haven’t seen you all week. unless your canceling on me. which just makes me wanna cry more :,)

LEON <3 : oh god no, fuck that. i would never cancel on you baby. i just have an idea. and i was wondering if you would like it, considering how stressful and overwhelming your week has been.

i’m listening….

LEON <3 : you still come over on friday night, you pack a change of clothes and we go for a picnic on saturday. i know a good spot. and plus, im a good cook.

you don’t have to…

LEON <3 : but i WANT too. i wanna make my girl happy after having such an awful week. you need this baby. don’t bother arguing with me >:)

fineeee i suppose i could pack an overnight bag, stay the whole weekend at your place. go on a little picnic and ACTUALLY enjoy myself for once.

LEON <3 : that’s the spirit my love :). don’t worry, i’ll take care of you this weekend. don’t stress and don’t worry. trust in your amazing boyfriend ;)

you are an amazing boyfriend. don’t let that boost your already enormous ego though lol. god, i miss you so much. i can’t wait to see you. :,)

LEON <3 : you only have a little less then 48 hours to go before you see my handsome face again. don’t worry your pretty head baby, i’ll make you forget all about this week. spoil the absolute shit out of you. <3

okay, i gotta get back to work before my boss comes in to belittle me some more about phone usage at work :,). i’ll see you soon babe, i love you.

LEON <3 : see you soon beautiful girl, i love you too. gotta go bust some criminals lol. ttyl :)

she sighs in content, a lovesick grin on her features. she felt so much better, just talking to him through text even. it was enough to make her heart swell with love and forget all about the incidents this week.

she couldn’t wait to see him on friday night, then go on a picnic on saturday like he promised. she needed him like air sometimes. and he had been pulling shifts so frequently at the station that she barely ever saw him.

it sucked, yes. but when they did get to see each other it was absolutely worth it. she knew that he was gonna stay true to his word like he always did. make her happy, spoil her and make her forget all about her sucky week at work.

she loved him so much, it was almost consuming sometimes. overwhelming to think that before she met him two years ago, she had never known love or that men like him could even exist.

god, she was praying for this weekend to come sooner. and hopefully, it would.

eventually she made it to friday, she managed to get through the day, working as hard as she could. she dealt with clients, dodged the lecturing of her boss and the gossiping of her coworkers.

she slipped out early, not really giving a fuck because all her work was finished as far as she was concerned. she had better places to be. like leon’s apartment for example.

she had packed an overnight bag that morning, watered her plants and made sure she had everything. she had kept her overnight bag stored in her car just so when she got off work, she could head straight over.

she sent him a text that she was off and she was heading over early, putting the car in reverse and leaving her works parking lot.

she drove down the familiar streets and roads until she made it to leon’s apartment, parking her car in the guest parking spot. she got out, grabbing her overnight bag and everything else she needed as she locked the car behind her.

she walked over to the gate to enter the complex, typing in the numbers and once it buzzed, she opened it and let herself in. she made her way up to the second floor, walking over to where his apartment was. she slipped her key to his apartment, unlocking the door and slipping off her shoes.

“baby? you home?” she calls out as she drops her overnight bag by her shoes, dropping her keys on the coffee table. she looks around, she feels a buzzing in her hand where her phone is. she looks at the text from leon saying he was on his way home from his shift.

she sighed and looked around his apartment, looking down at the coffee table where she sat her keys in front of his couch. she saw something sticking out from in between the pages of a book he was reading. “what the…?” she opened the book and looked in the book.

a piece of paper with scribbled writing over it, leon’s from what she recognized. she started to read the crumpled up piece of paper.

[READER],

ever since i’ve known you, i’ve loved you. i’ve never wanted anyone more then i’ve wanted you. i’m not just doing this in the hopes you’ll say yes, i’m doing this with the intention that you’ll let me love you for as long as we’re both alive.

i’m not doing it like this to be cliche, i know how much you think im corny. how hard i try to make sure you’re not laughing at me (even though i love your laugh more than anything.) i want you to know that i love you. i always have, i always will.

with that, will you please do me the honor of being my wife?

it would be my greatest achievement as man, as your boyfriend and future husband if you’ll let me.

she feels her eyes well up with subtle tears, wiping at her eyes as she looked down at the crumpled up notebook paper with a small smile, even though the letter didn’t say much, it said enough.

this was just more then a simple picnic, she knew now. why he was so keen on taking care of her this weekend. taking her out for a picnic tomorrow. she can’t believe he wanted to marry her, she wasn’t shocked but she was…she wanted to cry. it was almost like a dream come true.

she was about to re-read the note to make sure she wasn’t dreaming until she heard the lock on his front door click. she scrambled to put the crumpled up piece of paper back into the book where she found it, effectively slipping it in and standing up straight just in time as he entered the door.

“hey, honey.” he says with a small smile, kicking off his shoes. he wore his police uniform still, all pristine in pale blue and navy. she swallowed and wiped at her eyes, “hey.” she shuffles towards him and wraps her arms tightly around him.

he noticed the sniffling and the watery eyes, he craned his neck down to look at her face that was pressed into his chest, rubbing his hands up and down her back in a soothing gesture.

“are you okay? your eyes are red.” he says softly, his voice dripping with such concern it just almost made her heart melt in her chest. she nods and squeezes her arms tighter around him, “i’m okay. i just missed you.” she lies a little, she did miss him, but that wasn’t the true reason for the red eyes.

“okay, baby. it’s okay though, we’re gonna have a good weekend and your not even gonna think about work.” he says softly as he continues to rub her back up and down in a gentle gesture, smiling down at her with a soft grin. she nods, “okay, i’d like that.” she says with her cheek pressed against his chest, sniffling.

she knew she wouldn’t think about work, work was the furthest thing from her mind right now. the only thing on her mind was the picnic tomorrow and the note she had found.

she knew he was going to purpose, she wasn’t even trying to snoop, but now she knew. she loved him even more for it. if that was even possible.

the next day, the morning light would peak through the curtains of leon’s bedroom window. it casted both of them in a glow that was more then just a simple glow of the morning but a new day.

she loves waking up beside him, especially today when the promises of their future hang right over her head. a promise that he’s intending to keep.

she rolls over onto him as he lays on his back, giggling as she does. she presses a small kiss to his chest and then makes a path up to his collarbone, pressing a kiss to his neck. she felt herself growing more aroused by the minute.

she wasn’t a virgin, she had dated plenty of shitty guys before leon. and it isn’t like she didn’t not want to have sex with him, they just decided to wait until marriage. but now that she knew he was going to purpose today, she forgot all about that little promise she made with him.

she presses her lips to his jaw, hearing him mumble something sleepily as she grins against his skin. she leans towards his ear, “wake up.” she mumbles as she moves her hips to sit on his covered dick in his boxers beneath the sheets. her panty clad frame gently moving her hips lightly against his as she adjusts.

she feels him slightly move again, moving in his sleep so she moves her hips more firmly on him again, feeling him grow harder against the fabric that separated them. he mumbles something and she pulls her face out of his neck, bracing her palms flat on his chest.

he slowly opens his blue eyes to meet hers, his dirty blonde hair messily on the pillow. she smiles down at him with a small grin, “morning sleeping beauty.” she chuckles as she leans down to his face and presses a kiss to his lips.

his half-asleep frame is still waking up and trying to wrap his mind around everything. “what are you doing?” he chuckles with a lazy opening and closing of his blue eyes.

“what does it look like im doing?” she says with a small smirk, moving her hips again. he had no idea where this was coming from, they had agreed to wait until marriage and now…

she was straddling his waist, her wet core on top of his morning wood, there were the barriers between them but still, he could feel everything. she tilts her head innocently at him, his blue eyes looking up at her, “why are you so…? what’s gotten into you?” he says with a small furrow of his brows as he leans up on the bed, his elbows propped up behind him.

she bites her lip and looks at him, “why am i what?” she says as she bats her eyelashes at him, feigning innocence. he struggles and takes a shaky breath, “why are you like…all over me? like, we didn’t…i thought you wanted to wait.” he manages to get out with another shaky inhale.

she sighs and rubs her palms over his chest, “i want you, i’ve waited long enough. married or not, i want you.” she says with a small look, letting his blue eyes latch onto hers. she needed him to know she was serious, that this mattered.

she knew he was going to purpose soon anyways, so what was the big deal? that’s what she thought anyways. she didn’t see it as this huge thing, it would be their first time together. but…she was ready.

“unless…your not?” she says with a small sigh as she looks down at him, her palms pressed flat on his bare chest as she looked down at him. he shook his head so fast, his hair flopping as he did, “no, i want it.” he replies as he looks up into her eyes.

“anything that you want from me, i wanna be able to give it to you. even this.” she hears him say as his blue eyes never stray from his gaze on her. she smiles widely and sniffles, “god, i love you.” she whispers as she leans down and presses a kiss to his lips.

it starts slow, his hands holding onto her waist as the kiss grows more intense and passionate. her hips moving against his erection. she doesn’t fear it now, not when she knows what will happen.

not when she can trust him. she knows he’s different, he’s not like the others. she wants to give him all of her, every single part. she wants to give him marriage, her soul, her body. she wants him to have it all.

so as the kisses and the touches escalate, she feels herself trusting in him, letting his love consume her body and mind in a way she had never known before. his kisses were like rain, falling on her skin and soaking there. his touch was like fire, spreading over her body.

it was beautiful, she couldn’t wait to have him with her forever.

the picnic was beautiful.

leon, really knew how to make her forget about her shitty work week. whether it be a picnic, their first time having sex together earlier that morning, or the proposal that has yet to happen.

he really outdid himself. just like he promised, he had cooked and packed a lunch for them by a small pond in a park. it was about a 20 minute drive from his place, how she never knew it was there, she had no idea.

it was beautiful, some swans were in the pond swimming around with their babies, made her smile and think of how leon had made this so perfect without even trying. he spread out a blanket for them, sitting the food down in the picnic basket.

she brushes her hands over her purple sundress, looking at him as he sat down and began to spread out the food for them. “wow, baby. you really thought of everything didn’t you?” she chuckles as she sits down next to him on the picnic blanket.

“of course, anything for my girl.” he says with a sweet smile in her direction as he gets wine out of the basket and two glasses. my girl…jesus, if he’s trying to make me melt, it’s working. she thinks as she watches him uncork the wine bottle, and pour them both red wine into the glasses.

“i know, you spoil me, leon. but still…” she trails off as she looks over at him, she reaches over the blanket and grabs onto his hand. she watches as the subtle breeze blows his dirty blonde hair over his blue eyes and his forehead.

he rolls his eyes playfully and scoots closer to her on the blanket, squeezing her hand back. “don’t argue with me. it’s in your best interest.” he says with a small lopsided smirk as he hands her one of the glasses of wine. she accepts and smiles back at him, sipping on the wine in her free hand.

“fine. i won’t.” she says with a small roll of her eyes, grinning at him as she swallowed the wine. letting it slide down her throat. they stayed in silence for a while, just enjoying the sounds of nature, the breeze that blowed softly and made the leaves rustle in the trees above them.

she let him dote on her a little more, still feeling that anxious bubbling in her stomach that had been occurring since last night. the note, the proposal that had yet to happen. she felt her body get amped up and she was trying not to give her hopes up.

she sipped on her wine, looking over at him as he stared off into the pond a little ways in front of them. she admired him like this, when he wasn’t looking at her. he was deep in thought, in his head and she could almost see the gears turning in his mind.

“thank you, leon.” she says as she snaps out of her daze of staring at him. she didn’t think she could ever not want to stare, admire him like a piece of art in a museum. he lets his head turn her way, looking directly at her, a gentle smile on his boyish features.

“no need to thank me. i wanted to do something special for you.” he says as he reaches across the blanket and rubs his hand over her bare knee. she nods and swallows more nerves, “i don’t need to thank you, but im going to anyways.” she giggles.

he just shakes his head with a teasing grin on his face, he doesn’t mind this. sitting here with her and knowing where it’s going. he almost feels like this can’t be real, sitting here with her. the weather’s perfect and this day is even better.

they continue to just sit together on the picnic blanket, eating and sipping on their wine. they just talk and snuggle up next to each other on the blanket.

eventually the sun starts to set, painting the sky in a beautiful pink and red hue. it almost looks like a painting and she watches it with almost admiration. he knows this is the time, the ring in his pocket burning a hole through his jeans.

she keeps her gaze trained on the sky, not even noticing that he’s staring at her with admiration. he swallows his fears, his nerves and everything that could potentially stop him from doing this.

“your so beautiful, you know that?” he starts as he looks over her features. her gaze only temporarily looking over at him, a blush coating her cheeks. this isn’t how he had planned it, but he’s gonna do this differently.

“of course you know that, i tell you all the time how amazing, beautiful and sweet you are. even to people who don’t deserve your kindness.” he says as his blue eyes stay trained on her, she smiles and bites her lip in bashfulness.

she knows something is happening, but she lets it happen. she doesn’t care…not if it’s a promise to make her happy for the rest of their lives.

“your the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he continues as he looks at her, turning his body a little towards her on the picnic blanket. the ring feels like an anchor in his pocket, keeping him tethered to the moment here with her.

“and i don’t think i’ll ever find anyone better then you, that’s honesty. your the best that’s ever going to happen to me.” he says as he looks deep into her eyes, her eyes blinking back at him as she feels her heart start to pound in her ribcage.

“and i would be a fucking fool if i went on another two years and didn’t show you how much you mean to me.” he says as he fists the ring in his pocket. she feels her heart swell and her eyes water. the smile spreading on her face is the rare kind.

“what are you…?” she says with a small look of disbelief on her face, her smile widening and the crystal of her eyes staring back at him.

he smiles with a small blink of his blue eyes that are now crystallizing over as well, he pulls his palm out of his pocket, opening it up between them to brandish a engagement ring.

she blinks her tears away, raising a hand over her mouth, trying to somewhat hide her shock. “leon…” she looks between the ring in his palm and then his eyes. this was much better then what was written on that crumpled sheet of paper.

“i love you so fucking much, i would do anything for you, to you and with you. only if you’ll let me, forever. please marry me. let me love you forever, let me wake up to you every morning. it would be the greatest honor i could ever have.” he says as he gestures the ring in his outstretched palm.

he looks at her with hopeful and love filled eyes as he does this. she doesn’t even have words, she expected it. but not like this…

this was definitely better.

and he was the love of her life, she couldn’t say no to him, not in a million years. she couldn’t dream of turning him down. of declining his proposal because he’s her happiness. even from two years ago when they met to now…

her body and mind want him the same, love him the same. she knows it will never change. not when it comes to him and just everything he does for her.

“yes…” she says as she sniffles away tears, feeling the breeze in the park billow her hair. the swans swimming idly in the pond in front of them. the sun setting in a beautiful sunset that paints the sky. he blinks at her, he doesn’t think he heard her right for a second.

“did you say…?” she laughs and looks at him, “i said yes. i’ll marry you.” she says as she feels more tears leak down her flushed cheeks. he smiles widely and grabs her hand shakily, his face coated in tears of happiness too.

he slips the ring onto her ring finger and strokes his thumb over her knuckles. he slides his free hand up to cup her jaw, rubbing the tears that slid from her eyes. “oh god, i love you.” he says in a trance as he looks at her.

“i love you too.” she says back to him, catching him in his trance of looking at her. she feels the ring on her ring finger, making its home there. she feels like she’s on cloud nine right now. he pulls her face towards him and presses a kiss to her lips.

she returns it and kisses him back, her hand, now ring clad, holds onto his face as she deepens the kiss. she doesn’t think she could ever be happier then she was right now.

in this moment with him. not a thing matters and her mind and body are full of him. she feels so consumed by him and his love that she can’t even explain it.

she’ll be wrapped in him forever and she can’t bring herself to care if she is. because at least she’s happy, happy and in love.

forever.

leons letter:

taglist: @heartsforvin

(go to this post to join the taglist, pls reblog and follow for more, my asks are open in my bio. i love you all <3)

[mxdarling]

["did you miss me? because i really missed you" / "no! i'm not going anywhere and neither are you! we're stuck together now, i'll make sure of it"]

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

ೃ⁀➷: summary: the greatest detective, will never leave your side and neither will you leave his.

ೃ⁀➷: word count: 1.8k

ೃ⁀➷: reference/inspiration: n/a

ೃ⁀➷: event: [200 followers event]

[author's note:] my first bsd work LOLL god when I say I was writing this with trembling hands I wouldn't be lying, I was so scared to write for him even though he's one of my favs fufuu I just hate mischaracterization and i don't wanna fuck this up, anyways thank you anon for requesting ranpo with #30 and #22! it has been my pleasure to write for him LOLL enjoy!!

[warnings:] lowercase, ooc ranpo, yandere behavior, they/them prns, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, ranpo sits on reader's lap, mentions of stalking, implied reader being blackmailed by ranpo, reader is taller than ranpo, non consensual kissing (cheeks & lips), ranpo licks reader's fingers, eavesdropping.

[note:] If there is anything else triggering here that I didn’t list in the warnings section, please tell me. I don’t condone this type of behavior, this is merely just for entertaining purposes and some sort of coping mechanism for me. If you continue to read beyond this point, ignoring my warnings, I am not responsible for your actions from here on out.

[GN reader]

RANPO EDOGAWA, the greatest detective in the world, one who could solve a case in under 3 seconds, your annoying and childlike coworker, the one who has no ability, is currently following you around like a lost child. this has been going on for—at least, 4 minutes max—just him trailing a few centimeters behind as you continue to walk to your destination. in all fairness, when he found out you were going to the grocery store, he immediately jumped into the conversation and decided by himself that he's going to join you during your trip.

"areee weeeee there yet? i don't remember the journey to the store being this long!" a loud whine comes out of ranpo's mouth, worsening your mood as you hear his whiny voice, the kind you'd hear from a 6-year-old child who is simply too impatient to wait for their turn. from your peripheral vision, you could see several people looking at the two of you, ranging from confusion to judgmental stares. his shoulders are down, making him have a slouched body posture as he walks behind you in a more lazier manner than you, who is so close to speed stomping and leaving him behind.

"are we ther- hey! wait up!"

scratch that last thought, you're going to have a pleasant trip to the grocery store and you're going to leave him behind if that's what it takes to have peace of mind.

(fortunately for him, you didn't. your dislike for attention proves to be something he could use to his advantage, seeing how you crumbled under the feeling of many eyes turned towards you two when he whined and cried in the middle of the sidewalk, making a scene in broad daylight, taking his wrist in your grip, and dragging him along to your destination, making him match your speedy pace. he'll definitely keep this in mind for future use.)

the office was quiet, and you were alone in the room—switching between writing and reading a bunch of papers piled up near where you're sitting. despite having gone through just a few pieces of paper, the weight on your shoulders and back has gotten rather heavy, like you didn't stretch your limbs beforehand after waking up from your 5-hour rest. the silence was odd, to say the least, not that it wasn't unwelcome; it just made you curious about what your co-workers were up to, which made you not present in the office today. maybe yosano is out shopping, maybe kunikida and dazai were out chasing down criminals, and whatnot? maybe atsushi is helping out to solve a case with... him. the oh so great detective, fucking ranpo.

as much as he preached about how great he is and how everyone else in the detective agency respects and admires him, you were quite indifferent towards him in general. you aren't sure what everyone sees in him or what makes him so interesting that he's able to get this much attention—in other words, he's just plain boring in your eyes. actually, scratch that; he's more than boring; he's an absolute brat. he's whiny, always munching on his snacks so loudly, refusing to do work or cases sometimes, and acting like his super deduction is an ability. what's even worse is that he seems so determined to bother you constantly, every chance he gets. rarely are you left alone and left to breathe from the overwhelming detective—even if you are given a moment of peace, he'd come running back acting like an even bigger headache for you.

"(nameeeeeee)!" filling up the room with his shout, he pushed open the door with such force that it banged so loudly that the noise echoed to the other side. you could feel his attention on your back as silence once again filled the room. in the most coincidental (and worst) timing, the headache you were talking shit in your head comes into the office—a dreadful pit building up in your stomach as you mentally pray in your head for whatever ranpo is going to put you through this time. you could hear the skip in his footsteps. every step you take, more sweat starts rolling down your cheeks as you close your eyes and imagine a life without ranpo, without the suffocation of love and attention he gives you, without the anxious thoughts of being followed on your way home (you have major suspicions that it's ranpo but have nothing solid to prove it's him), without him blackmailing you into compliance, without-

dragging you out of your inner thoughts, the headache makes impactful contact with your back. "did you miss me? because i really missed you!" he says in a cheerful tone, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a tight grip and rubbing his cheeks against yours like someone would greet their lover when they miss them so much (he's doing it on purpose to make you uncomfortable, you think). to further prove your point, he smashes his lips against your cheek, not once, not twice, but multiple times in the same and adjacent areas of your cheek. if this had happened to you several months ago, the simple act of him trying to wrap his arms around your shoulders would make you go away from him as fast and as far as possible—even more so if he tried to kiss you, your water bills would skyrocket through the roof for how much time you would spend in the bathroom trying to scrub away the kiss on your cheek.

"no i didn't, actually" having gotten used to his (non-consensual) affection towards you, his actions do not faze you; on the outside, that is, there still remains that pit of disgust you used to have all those months ago. those urges to swat his body away from yours to give yourself some space are still there, yet you do nothing to act on any of them. you simply decide to indulge in whatever antics he has up his sleeves this time for the next few hours of your day—not that you had a choice, anyway.

(several times you've expressed discomfort at the physical touches he gives you during work hours, and several times you've expressed discomfort at the physical touches he gives you during work hours, and several times he intentionally ignores it for his own benefit. the one time he went overboard was when he made himself comfortable on your lap, handed you several sweet snacks you assumed he got from his secret stash, and forced you to hand-feed him until he was satisfied. to say this stunt of his hindered your productivity would be an understatement. you were way behind your planned schedule by the time you finished hand-feeding him all the sweet snacks.

just as you were about to ask him to get off, he suddenly grabbed your wrist, saying something about "there's still some crumbs left!" which confused the fuck out of you until you felt the wet sensation of a tongue licking your fingers. the horrors expressed on your face seemed to further encourage the amused ranpo, as he started sucking on your fingers too! neither of you two brought up that incident again, though you're glad he hasn't done this again; you aren't sure how well you were going to handle the next one.)

"i guess you could say smart men are my type," you say rather subconsciously without any thought or care of your co-workers' reaction to your answer, instead putting all your focus on your computer screen and continuing to type away as you hear several gasps and 'no way's from your left side.

"(name), are you.. sure smart men are your type?" there was hesitation in their voice, disbelief even—like they didn't believe you the first time. "uhh.. yeah? i didn't really give much thought, but intelligence is hot, i guess," you said once again, answering in the same manner you did the first time. you weren't sure what they were trying to get out of this conversation, but if you had to guess, most likely they're attempting to set you up on a blind date. "..alright, if you say so.." they say, ultimately ending the conversation and switching topics to avoid making the awkwardness linger in the atmosphere.

(little did you and your co-workers know, the great detective was listening in on the whole conversation. hearing every word that came out of your mouth, to say he stumbled upon your little talk on accident would be a lie—he doesn't go to such lengths without a reason. to say he's surprised by your type of men like your co-workers were would be another lie, but he's quite puzzled. if smart men are your type, why do you always seem to give the expression that you're disgusted by him? no matter, as a detective, it's his job to uncover every bit of mystery and solve for all the missing pieces.)

stepping out of the building, bidding farewell to your co-workers, and parting ways as you walk to your house, taking extra caution by putting your keys between your fingers in case you were to be stalked by someone, especially a certain someone you've been trying to avoid all day long...

"(naaameeeee)!!" and speak of the devil; he shows up to come and ruin your day just when you're about to go home—how fun. you let out a tired sigh and turned around to see ranpo running towards you at full speed. the sight set off alarm bells in your head, so on impulse, you tried to get out of his way and hoped he ran too fast that he ended up hitting a light pole straight in the face. yet it seems this day of yours wouldn't be so lucky, because suddenly he grabs your shirt, pulls you a little lower to his height, and then kisses you on the lips.

your eyes widen in shock, momentarily stunned for a second, before you feel your instincts kick in and roughly push him away.

"ranpo, what the fuc-!?"

suddenly you feel an unexpected impact hitting your chest, emitting a surprising noise from your mouth, making you cut off mid-sentence. ranpo buries his face underneath your chin, rubbing against your skin with his cheek like it's a pillow—opening your mouth. you tried to protest once more against him, but nothing came out. the sudden feeling of a pair of arms wrap around your torso and your arms holding you in a tight grip, sending the message that he doesn't want to let you go. after what felt like eternity to you, he looks up and shows you the poutiest expression you've ever seen him make.

"no! i'm not going anywhere, and neither are you! we're stuck together now; i'll make sure of it!"

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

PLEASE DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO OTHER SITES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION + REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

[minhosimthings]

Call him up. He comes to my bedroom. Ended up we'd fuck on the hotel floor.

Summary: you, Jay, fucking after an award show

Warnings: smut, fem!reader, MINORS DNI, Oral (recieving), some comfort from husband material Jay

A/N: ALRIGHT! First smut work! I definitely need to improve a lot but here you go my babygirls. Also first Jay drabble! YAY! im taking a break from my work and writing whenever I'm at work and just staring at fishies.

Song rec: A&W by Lana del Rey. Yes the title is a lyric from that song. My favourite lyric!

"You wanted to see me baby?" Jay Park. Can anyone in this world get more luckier that you to get Jay fucking Park.

Award shows were boring, but when you had Jay beside you, it made it worth it, for you to stare at that slightly open white shirt with that watch that you gifted him, wrapped around his pretty little wrist. Yet again, L/N Y/N had won another award for best producer of the year. Some more of these and your house will end up becoming a store for selling 'Best producer' awards. Jay's group Enhypen had won 'Best boy band of the year' award this time and you were so proud of him. If not for the slight hiccup.

Being a producer, your ears were probably the most sensitive shit on earth, which enabled you to hear far more further than most people can (I actually have this ability and it's really cool!). Which in turn allows you to eavesdrop easily. But sometimes the eavesdropping isn't always the most comforting thing on this world, and as you heard your fellow producers smoke in the bathroom stalls and say 'She just got that award because she's Jay's girlfriend.' and 'He's so delicious though. Why did he pick that ugly bitch of a whore?'. You weren't really the type of person to cry or feel insecure, I mean after all you were in the kpop industry. Someone was always prettier or more talented than you. But hey, you were raised by some pretty good people, who taught you not to let jealousy take over you. But sometimes even saints abandon their principles in time of desperation. And for you? Your co workers shit talking about you was the time of desperation. You knew being in a relationship in this industry and letting it be public was a risk. But for Jay? Oh honey you'd risk the entire universe to be with him.

"Honey what's wrong? Hey are you crying?" Jay had walked into your hotel room, after you sent a staff member to get him. The afterparty was in the same hotel and you knew Jay would be with the rest of the boys, enjoying, drinking and critiquing every person's outfit. But you just couldn't go and stand there and give fake smiles to your coworkers, and pretend that everything was okay. You needed your boyfriend right now. And Jay would do anything for you, even abandon a party to come up to your magnificent suite. "Baby what's wrong?" Jay sat down on the bed next to you and cupped your cheeks. "You weren't at the party. I brought some food for you." Hearing that only made you sob harder onto your custom made red Prada dress, a gift from the worried man sitting in front of you, wondering silently what he could do to make you feel better as he stroked your hair and put your head against his chest.

"Shh baby shh. What happened?" "I- I heard them s-saying- Jay they think I- don't have- Jay." You sniffled in Jay's chest as he quickly understood what had happened. He had seen your coworkers giggling and approaching him again and again at the party and connecting the dots, it made perfect sense. Tracing the jewels on your dress with one hand and slightly taking off his tie with his other, Jay moved you to the pillow slowly, whilst admiring your figure in that dress. He hadn't had much of a chance to talk to you or see you up close since both of you were seated at different places, far from each other, neither did he have the chance to see you before the show, so when his eyes fell upon the tightly fit fabric on your hips, oh god his entire world came crashing down.

"Jay wha- what are you doi-" "Baby where do you keep the condoms?" You shuddered back as Jay slowly cane above you. "I- I'm on the pill." Jay slowly unzipped your dress, sneaking his hand behind you as you moved your hand to his collar. "Good" he growled against your ear. "You'll see what you're capable of tonight."

"Jay~" you whine as he grinds against your figure, the fabric of your dress slowly getting destroyed and ripped off of your body. You were quick to unbutton his white silk shirt, your gift, and unbutton his pants, throwing away the belt onto the bedside table. Jay moaned lowly as he inhaled the scent of your jasmine perfume, his favourite one. "Shit baby were you always this wet for him?" He teased you as you could do nothing but only whine in response. "Jay ah fuck!" He had slipped his fingers into your cunt, rings still on. The metal of the rings rubbed your pussy so hard, pleasure seeping in and out of you. "Is this ok baby? Or does my love need my cock inside?" "Jay ngh ahh fuck!" He slips himself in at an absolutely brutal pace, that your brain goes dumb and your pussy goes wild. This was heaven like you've never seen it. Jay was angry, so angry, and as his hands felt all of your naked skin, and all of your sadness turning into pure pleasure, satisfaction filled him to the brim. "No Jay don't pull out please." You whine to Jay as he slowly goes back. "Patience baby. Patience. I'll make you feel even better yeah? Give me my belt would you?" You were quick to reach out to the bedside table, where the brown leather belt lay, waiting for its turn. Jay slowly got your hands up and tied them to the bedframe with the belt tightly, as all you were capable of doing was whine and moan for him. "Jay please" He chuckled slowly at your desperate words and made his way down to your ripped pink panties. Pressing light kisses to your pussy, Jay took in your ever sweet whimpers and as his tongue darted out ever so often to flick you cute little clit, it drove you crazy, as you begged and begged for his cock again and again. "Aww does my Y/N want her daddy's dick inside of her now?" You whimpered again as he came up to you, face right above yours, hot breath, tinted with the smell of alcohol hitting your face. "Yes d-daddy please I need it please." You whispered to him. "Anything for my princess." He kissed you with his tongue moving around in your mouth, hands touching your clit, making you moan out his name, in the dirtiest way possible.

"Ah deeper Jay go deeper please." "You like that baby? Want me to cum inside of you hm?" The belt tied around your hands was untied now, as you moved your hands to Jay's pretty neck and thrust him into you. Jay sucked on your nipple softly, love and roses filling the huge room. The bed was definitely strong, because at the rate both of you were thrusting into each other, it should have broke. But then again, the hotel you were in wasn't called the best in the country for no reason.

"Wanna get in the shower baby?" Jay finally pulled out and flopped next to you on the bed, both of your hair and makeup, a mess. "Sure baby. Round two there?" You asked him, massaging your legs. Jay, to your dissatisfaction, shook his head. "No baby. Lets get washed up. We got an event tomorrow don't we? Don't want you limping at the event do we?" You pouted slightly as you remembered the Prada event you had tomorrow and as an ambassador, you had to deliver a speech. Yep another round of sex with Jay right now and tomorrow, nothing would be on your brain other than getting your pussy filled with his cum again. "Alright oh great Park Joengsoeng. I got your lavender shampoo. Wanna use that?" You said while getting up from the bed, completely naked. "Of course baby." Jay replied.

Winning an award tonight was good but getting your actual award with Jay was even better, you thought, as you entered the hot shower, Jay caressing your hips and kissing your neck. Yep you can't wait to get married to this man.

[femsolid]

Can I ask how does separatism show in your life? Do you have male relatives you have to interact with a lot? I assume you don't have male friends, have you ever had them in the past and at some point you decided "nah, this ain't it"? Are you in a job where you have to interact with men a lot? Do you reduce dealing with men when it comes to other things like avoiding places with men? Sorry I'm just curious about it from someone who lives a separatist life!

It's been very easy. I have no interest in men any more. I don't like their personalities and the misogyny of our daily interactions always jumps out to me (weaponized incompetence, interrupting women, disgusting jokes, main character syndrome, viciousness etc) and I just have no tolerance for it. I'm not a lesbian so I'd say there's 0.1% of men who aren't ugly but they immediately become repulsive to me when the casual sexism comes out, which it inevitably does. I don't understand the "radical" feminists who, after seeing men for what they are, don't feel such repulsion and even claim that we need men to be fulfilled. So I don't date men, don't flirt with men, don't take an interest in their lives, don't play the psychologist for them, don't put extra work for them, don't offer my help etc. I just don't care about men. There's no male relative I still see except for my nephew who is a child. I've cut ties with my father years ago specifically for his misogyny and homophobia. I stand by my moral principals no matter what. I don't have male friends and I never have because I never trusted males nor related to them. And I could never be myself around them. I have male co-workers though, I talk about work with them when I need it. I only have real conversations with my female coworkers. And I only joke with women. As a result, I've noticed, only women sit around me and talk to me at work. The guys have given up. However, my manager is a man which is quite annoying. I keep it minimal with him just like with every other males I'm forced to interact with. I keep it professional and cordial, not friendly and sweet.

I make zero effort to please men physically. No make-up, no tight clothes, no long hair, no shaving, no shutting up, no dainty mannerisms. I'm eating what I want, when I want to, and show no remorse unlike a lot of my female peers. And when I'm angry, I don't hide it. And if I need to say something, I say it. A lot of people assume I'm a lesbian based on the fact that I make no effort to attract men. And it's true that I make no such effort. But I also think that if, to attract men, you have to pretend to be a helpless little thing, you can't call straight or bisexual women "lesbians" just for refusing this humiliation. It's called dignity, not lesbianism.

I like women, I try to help them, prioritize them, support them, reassure them, defend them and push them forward. When a woman speaks negatively about herself, I always jump in to correct her. And when a man attacks a woman I intervene. I distribute compliments and encouragements to women. And I point out the misogyny they confront when they don't see it for what it is. I only debate women because I only value women's mind.

If I have to see a doctor, I'll look for a woman every time. Only and only if I can't find a female doctor close to me will I pick a male doctor. My general practitioner is a woman, my podiatrist is a woman, my psychologist is a woman, my radiologist is a woman, my gastroenterologist is a woman etc. Same with a hear dresser, a masseuse, a fitness coach: only women. I only read books from female authors. I try to watch movies with a woman or girl as the main character. Same with video games or music. Though obviously I'm only human and might enjoy a movie or song made by a male sometimes. I try to support female artists and creators by promoting them, buying from them, giving them nice reviews. I avoid places that are filled with men like a gym or café or profession or online space, and I gravitate towards places filled with women.

That's it, that's my daily life. It's taking care of myself and valuing women. It's easy because I enjoy it and it feels natural. I'm following what my guts have always told me. Feminism simply helped me verbalize it.

[ultra-raging-ghost]

Idea for a little Cucuhalo fic/au. Ok hear me out:

Roommates/Office au

So, I haven't fully fleshed out the details yet, but Cucurucho as a rich boss that owns some kind of company and Bad is an employee that just moved from somewhere and started working in his company not too long ago. They try to get along... well enough in the office, albeit there's some tension and passive aggression between them.

Their co-workers love to gossip about them because it looks like there's something going on between the two, but it's all speculation for them. What they don't know is Bad and Cucurucho are actually secretly roommates, and they "hate" each other even more outside of the office.

Cucurucho has a cat that Bad wasn't initially fond of named Emotional Support (they're actually raising that cat like it's their baby lols) because Bad is more a dog person, but Cucurucho insisted on getting a cat as a pet. That's only one of their roommate quarrels. Most of the time they are extremely passive aggressive, and do things like, idk, not washing the other person's dishes lmao.

Despite how much they claim to hate each other, neither want to leave because "it's easier to share rent" or "no one would take care of Emotional Support when the other person is busy", some kind of excuse like that. But really, it's because they do enjoy having each other around, and sometimes, they have nice dinners and movie nights together. Then they fall asleep on their couch and wake up entangled, but neither wants to admit they were literally cuddling the night before. They are so attached to each other, but no one wants to say it out loud.

Basically this au is me wanting Cucuhalo office and roommate drama with a dash of sexual tension and long-term denial, romantic comedy sitcom style.

- alchemicaladarna

WAITTTT REAL

I love them living together and making up excuses to do so....

"Its expensive to live alone" "Emotional support is already so attached to him itd be mean to take her away from him" "We bought the furniture in a way that would make it weird for us to move out" (bad bought both the beds, or the one bed hayoooo, cucurucho bought like 20% of the spices and condiments, they dont feel like splitting up the furniture is what im getting at) "Theres no available housing in any areas id want to live in" etc. etc. any excuse to stay together even though to everyone else it seems like theyre at eachothers throats all the time!!

I think the way the workers would find out is a couple of them getting invited over. Like after a night out, one of them cant find a ride home so bad (resident guy who doesnt drink) offers to let them sleep on his couch for the night, and the next morning they wake up to arguing. They sit up on the couch and over the back of it who should they see in the kitchen together but CUCURUCHO and BADBOYHALO who are arguing because bad didnt ask before inviting said coworker over!! They kiss and make up (either metaphorically or literally) and cucurucho lets it go for now and sneaks off back to his (possibly their) room so he isnt caught and has bad send the coworker out as soon as they wake up. The coworker doesnt say anything about seeing cucurucho right then... but later on cucurucho and bad hear a lot of whispering that gets suddenly quiet when they walk by, and then it continues when they walk past.... more so than usual!!! And they dont think too much of it, but then someone comes up to bad's desk one day or approaches him in the hallway or by the water cooler and goes "so.. you and cucurucho, huh??"

(and then they realize bad's not the one to approach because hes very aloof and wouldnt pick up on the implications that the coworker would be dropping.. but theyre too afraid to go ask cucurucho about it for fear of getting chainsaw'd LMAO)

SHOUT OUT TO THE "ONLY ONE BED" TROPE, WE COULD DO SO MUCH WITH IT!!!

[floridagirlboy]

do you headcanon the branches as siblings, or family in some other way, or just, like, coworkers? I feel like some of them have very sibling coded relationships (army and coastie come to mind), but air force is more like space force's... mentor? (for lack of a better word) and maybe this is just me, but I feel like marine and navy are more homoerotic than anything else. anyway, just wanna hear your thoughts :D

GIGGLING AT THE LAST BIT.

i think that the branches, like other personifications, end up having kind of complicated relationships since they aren't human. and they've changed over the years considering they're centuries old (sans airy/spacey). so it's like a weird mixed bag.

VERY LONG POST.

army -> coastie: sees coastie like an annoying little brother/cousin (fond) but still recognizes him as a colleague/co-worker simultaneously. for a while he saw coastie like a child since he was established well before the coast guard

coastie -> army: sees army like a cool older brother. struggles to see him as anything professionally (he feels they're too friendly for that). at some point he saw army in a paternal light but that didn't last that long.

army -> marine: diehard rivals but also, like, a really deep fraternal bond. "i hate you but i'm gonna be the mother fucker to kill you" <- said with the anger and fondness only a brother could hold for his brother. constantly trying to outdo him. used to just mildly dislike him.

marine -> army: the "diehard rivals but sworn brothers" thing is mutual. he used to just see army as competition/someone to outdo. now it's more friendly (even if they sure as hell don't act like it). they don't consider each other related (like army/nat. guard do) but they do consider each other family. like.. brothers by choice. it's weird to articulate.

army -> navy: their relationship is... weird. they don't interact with each other as much as they would with the other branches. most interactions they have are at a literal geographical distance (given work circumstances). army finds navy agitating but, and he'd rather eat spent shell casings than admit this, kind of likes navy's teasing. he doesn't have any feelings for him but he enjoys the attention, even if it's meant to be patronizing and irritating.

navy -> army: enjoys how easy it is to piss off army and rile him up. coastie is usually unbothered, air force gets genuinely upset, and space force is...space force. professionally the respects him, personally considers them to be on decent terms, but overall recognizes the distance between them.

army -> space force: they don't really interact. his thoughts on space force can be summed up like "Air Force what the fuck is wrong with your dog" but would pick a fight with anyone outside of the branches trying to make fun of him.

space force -> army: doesn't feel much for army. not in an apathetic/dislike kind of way, more like "i don't really have enough information to know how i feel about this guy". but overall he doesn't harbor much negative sentiment.

army -> air force: he makes fun of air force constantly. but it's sort of like... "i'm trying to teach you how to have thicker skin" with the worst approach ever. also it's meant to be a friendly fraternal thing. he harbors a lot of professional respect for air force but he doesn't show it much or often. he doesn't really give much compliments or praise to anyone, but air force is probably the guy he's given the most compliments to over the years. but even then it's far and few between. personally though, he sees air force as a pushover who's totally full of himself. he likes air force's confidence [in his intellect] but hates how easily he goes from full of it to self-deprecating so easily. grow a spine damnit this is gonna hurt you!! also army thinks he's a big nerd lol. if you're not a branch he won't let you make fun of air force for being a wet rag nerd though. it's more personal than it is with space force.

air force -> army: thinks army is antagonizing him because he dislikes him. like he thinks this guy has nothing but contempt for him. wonders how he can never do anything right by army (unaware that army just doesn't point out the stuff he thinks is good, only the bad). he's a little numb to it at this point but it still stings. he's stopped taking it personally but unfortunately now he's assuming that he's the problem. womp womp

army -> national guard: it's... complicated. they're brothers, but they're not that close. army wants to be closer with him but he's never had the chance to. and now that it's been so long, with everything, he's not sure how. would natty want a guy like him to be his brother? plus, natty is actually older than him. but army grew up so fast he kind of ended up as the older brother after a few decades, and that just made their relationship more complicated. natty started out mentoring him and everything, but then it kind of flipped on it's head and now he's the big brother figure. he feels a lot for natty, but he's not sure what any of it boils down to or what to do about it. i think if he had to be honest about his feelings he'd say he feels like he owes natty everything, and he wishes natty had a better brother.

national guard -> army: him and army have a lot in common. they both don't know how to feel about their relationship, they both want to be closer, but they both have the emotional comprehension of a brick. while natty is better off than him in that department, it's just... not easy still. "for us to be closer it'd require us to put in a lot of work we don't know how to, and we don't logistically have the ability to either way, but if awkwardly eating dinner together sometimes and playfully bickering is all we have in the cards right now then i'm willing to play my hand every time"

coastie -> navy: beach buddies! they're friends on pretty good terms. navy doesn't really tease coastie. he sorta looks up to navy. used to see navy like a little brother. he thinks navy's forgotten about all that, though.

navy -> coastie: i think navy sees him almost like a little brother, but he doesn't consider him family. it's a mutual sentiment: "you're like a brother to me." the irony is that coast guard is older than the navy! but navy "grew up" faster so they dynamic ended up shifting over the years. before that, though, navy looked up to coastie and saw him as an older brother/mentor figure. he hasn't actually forgotten this; he feels a personal debt to coastie and takes this very seriously, which doesn't seem much like him (a guy who can't seem to take anything seriously and just parties a lot). but it very much is.

coastie -> air force: good friends! very good friends. coastie is actually kinda jealous of air force; he feels pretty distant from the main 4 (navy, marine corps, army, air force). he doesn't mind it, though. or maybe he does. nobody really asks.

air force -> coastie: cares about coastie a lot. honestly pretty concerned for him. he knows coastie is wayyy older than he is and he's sure that his happy-go-lucky attitude has a, like... centuries of baggage beneath it. this leaves his mind a lot, though, and he only really thinks about it when his mind drifts elsewhere. likes to hang out with coastie.

coastie -> space force: mutually feels left out of the main 4. likes how weird space force is. and how space force doesn't judge him for being so talkative. space force is actually kind of quiet so it gives coastie ample room to talk, and coastie feels like he actually listens. ends up tagging along with air force+space force often.

space force -> coastie: almost the same as the way coastie feels for him. honestly pretty happy that coastie talks to him like a normal individual/equal and not like.. some weirdo.

coastie -> army: sees army like an older brother but they're on surprisingly equal footing in terms of a "power dynamic"; army sees him as an equal as much as he does a little brother figure. they're pretty close. he's the bubbly golden retriever to army's pissed off german shepherd or something. worries about army a lot and does his best to help him without making it obvious.

army -> coastie: very close; sees him kinda like a little brother. i think his relationship with coastie is especially complicated on his end, though. because he already has a brother. but he's not very close with his brother. but he's really close with coastie. it's really difficult for him to parse. i don't want to say he sees coastie like a surrogate for the relationship he wants with national guard, but... well, he sees a lot of natty in coastie. and i think it kind of tears him up inside because of how complicated his feelings are on this. doesn't help that he has the emotional and interpersonal skills of a cucumber.

navy <--> marine: honestly nobody knows what's going on with them. i mean, they've never explicitly said anything. but there is, indeed, an incredibe amount of palpable homoerotic tension between them. they bunk together. navy drives him everywhere. you literally cannot see one of them without the other. and let's just say i didn't mention marine in the "why navy only teases army" tidbit for a reason. draw your own conclusions teehee :^)

air force -> space force: it's complicated. because of the circumstances of how they stared out, he almost feels a paternal kind of way towards space force? but also kind of just like a mentor/colleague relationship? but also like of like siblings? but also kind of just best friends? it's really complicated. but overall it's a very positive relationship. he cares a lot for space force, and it doesn't really matter to him in what way he cares for space force; paternal, fraternal, neither, both, secret third option.

space force -> air force: doesn't feel anything you could articular with traditional terms but air force is basically one of the only other branches he really feels anything towards. his feelings towards the others are pretty numb/shallow or he just flat out doesn't know them well enough, but he does feel pretty deeply for air force. nothing that is or could be considered romantic though, to be clear.

BASICALLY their relationships are all super duper complicated due to their nature as personifications and how they change over time. but they're all pretty tight knit (despite some being closer than others).

OKAY THAT'S. A LOT ALREADY SO I THINK I'LL LEAVE THIS POST AT THAT. if you're interesting in hearing about any other dynamics lmk!! thannk you for letting me autism about these fools. my little blorbinis. forgive me for the expanse of text i just start typing and cant stop.

p.s. i tried to make a visual for this with cute little signatures for them but i couldn't get it to work out the way i wanted to. but i still like the signatures. so here.

[froggibebi]

I started my career about 8 months ago working as a wastewater laboratory analyst(sounds bad, but it's a big stepping stone into furthering my career). I am a 21 year old female and I'm the youngest and ONLY female on the premises. My co-workers and I are all close since there's only 6 employees working at the plant. Me and one particular coworker (41) were close friends for the first 5-6 months, and I enjoyed coming to work and joking around with him and my other worker(27). I have bipolar1 and recently, my mental health has taken a turn for the worst. Because of this I have stopped caring about my health and appearance. I don't look unkempt but I went from dressing up everyday and wearing makeup, to jeans a hoodie and converse. Since then, my coworkers "jokes" have been out of control and gone a bit too far. Commenting on my lack of makeup, weight, clothes and asking me EVERY DAY if I am a lesbian now because of my outfits???(wtf). Everything I do or say is commented on and I feel like I cannot leave my lab without hearing a funny little "joke" about the way I sound, walk, or dress ect... Theyre always making rude remarks on how I preform my job and I get made fun of for doing my job "correctly"...... I feel very alone and do not leave my work area or speak to anyone anymore because of this. I would contact hr but because my plant has such little employees they would know it is me who made the complaint and I would.jusy get more shit for.doing that rather that speaking to them face to face(which I would do but I would start crying immediately...I know 🙄smh). I'm not really looking for suggestions, I guess???? I just wanted to vent and get it out of my brain. I'm also not sure if Tumblr is meant for these kinds of posts or not 🤷‍♀️. Disregard my lack of punctuation and grammar. I don't care enough to fix it.

[chynaallen]

Reflection Assignment

When I first took this class in the summer semester I gave up after the second assignment and failed the class just because of how busy things in life were at the time and also not wanting to do the work because I felt this class wouldn't benefit me in nursing. But I was wrong. I've learned so much in communication this fall. Communication is important in nursing for many reasons. When communicating with coworkers, doctors and being clear in charting it is very important to have good communication so everyone understands exactly what's going on. I have three topics that stood out to me the most while taking this class and the first one is managing conflict in chapter twelve. I enjoyed reading this chapter and learning the different conflict styles that I never really thought to put a name to that I have used like avoidance (lose-lose).  Avoidance occurs when people choose not to confront an issue directly. Alder pg.340 I use avoidance all the time because I like to avoid arguing with people or even getting a headache from possible yelling and fighting. This conflict style I learned made me think about a recent friendship I had with a close friend of three years. Things that my friend decided to partake in that I was not okay with and didn't want to associate myself around because I didn't agree of the choices she was making as a mother caused me to use avoidance and end the relationship instead of me explaining how I felt about the things she does a mother I decided it wasn't my place to speak on anyone's parenting but to just avoid the relationship in whole. My next topic that stuck with me that I've learned in this class is using empathy. Empathy is the ability to to recreate another person's perspective, to experience the world from his or her point of view Alder 2015 pg.141. I have started to try and use empathy more when conversing with my peers now because after reading on this topic it made me think about a time at work with one of my coworkers that is African she has a strong accent and I overheard a patient say she couldn't understand anything she was saying I laughed at that comment, not because I was laughing at my coworker but because I felt like the patient was just ignorant because I've always been able to understand everything clearly that comes out of my coworkers mouth. Later on in the shift she brought it back up and I realized it might've hurt her feelings from me laughing about it so I used empathy to try and understand how it would feel if this was the other way around. I just didn't put much thought into it because I have a lot of African friends and other races with accents and never had a hard time understanding them but I can feel and understand how frustrating that must be for them hearing someone say that can't understand anything they are saying when they are doing the best they can to communicate with people that speak differently from them. The last topic I really enjoyed was learning about the culture and co-culture topic and being able to read my classmates different views on their culture it was very interesting and I love to learn new things about other's culture and I was given this chance to learn a lot about it from people in different cultures by taking this class. For example I didn't know that the LGBTQ community is considered being a part of a culture or being physically disabled. I loved that we got to share our culture with our classmates and teach each other new things because I feel this is a topic that is important for everyone to learn like one. One of my classmates commented on a discussion post about how they never knew what AAVE was. It was a teaching and learning topic for all of us. I learned a lot more in this class. These were just some of the topics I was most interested in and enjoyed learning. I've learned a lot of different communication styles that I plan on using and different techniques I could use to try and understand and communicate with others better.

[wonwoonlight]

flower | jeon wonwoo

➝ word count: 13.000~ words

➝ writer!reader x editor!wonwoo

➝ angst // exes!au // also slice of life-ish // non idol!au // fluff

➝ warning: tiny bit mention of alcohol, clichés lol, probably inaccurate description of how a magazine works even though i've done my research :')

➝ A/N: hi guys! honestly didn't know i still have it in me to write anything that would reach 10k lolll. this was fun to write and i... really worked hard writing this so your feedback would be very much appreciated <3 my ask box is always open hehe. enjoy! (why do i feel like this isnt as angsty as i wanted it to be tho??)

하루에도 몇십번은 고민해 How many times do I think about it in a day? 약이라던 시간도 꽤 지났는데 Even the time they say that would heal has quite passed 이게 아닌데 이게 아닌데 이게 아닌데 This isn't it, this isn't it, this isn't it

Taeyang - This Ain't It

One.

You’ve always wanted to be a writer—a novel writer, if you’re being completely honest. There’s always something that fascinates you about stringing words together: bringing nonexistent stories into existence, pouring your fantasies in the form of letters and knowing people take their time to read them.

That was the dream, anyway. Reality hits and you know you’re not lucky enough to be one of those people who have the luxury of turning their dreams into reality. You can’t risk spending too much time writing a novel that might not be published. There’s too much to gamble there; the publisher, the audience, the time and energy you’d spend in finishing a book and editing it after.

What if you manage to finish your book but couldn’t manage to find a publisher? What if you manage to find a publisher but can’t see eye to eye with the editor they assign you to? What if it gets published but do not sell well?

It’s sad, but you’d rather take the safe way of looking for office jobs that would regularly pay you than gamble your luck as a writer. Frankly, the time and energy you’d be pouring into that work would be too much if you’re not guaranteed success.

Not that you want to get rich off making books.

The main goal for you as a writer has always been to make a story that’s able to comfort people. That’s practically it; you’d be happy if people read your stories, but it’s like you have the whole world in your hand when someone tells you your works bring smiles to their face—that they find your stories relatable and comforting.

You’re afraid if publishing a book would make you too concerned with the sales and demands from the upper highs to the point where your writing isn’t… yours.

“Are you okay?” Minghao asks from his cubicle in front of you, the fingers on his keyboard stopping in worry. It’s not a busy day at the office today, a lot of your coworkers are working from home because, as magazine writers, your boss doesn’t require you all to be in the office everyday though you can if you want to.

You’d like to think at least you’re still working as a writer even though you’re writing about movie reviews instead of writing fictions.

“Yeah, just got reminded of something,” you smile at him. “Plus, Seokmin is stressing me out. I can’t believe he’s really leaving me.”

Minghao lets out a small laugh and then his fingers start to busily type again. You’ve always liked that your office doesn’t have those dividers between cubicles on the desks, it makes looking the office less… stuffy and you get to look at your co-workers freely. There’s just a low glass that goes along the desk between you and Minghao, the only divider between you and him. The seat next to him is empty because Lee Jihoon is rarely in the office unless he really needs to.

“I thought Joshua has already found a replacement editor for you? Didn’t he say the new guy is coming in today?” he asks. “Who else are Seokmin’s writers, again?”

“Me, Jihoon, and Jennie. You’ll probably see Jihoon in the office again two days from now, complaining about Seokmin, too,” you grin at the thought of your coworker. You can already hear him going on about having to adapt to a new editor again, and you just know he’s praying to everything up there that the new editor wouldn’t be a stuck up one that changes everything without any valid reason other than the desire to be annoying.

“Not today?” Minghao returns your grin, looking at you through his glasses.

“No, his deadline is in two days and you know he won’t go to the office just to see the new guy,” you match his grin, cracking your fingers as you skim through your piece. You mainly dabble on movie reviews, and while it’s not as easy as one would think it is, you find joy in making reviews for indie movies in particular. You, of all people, know how it feels to make a story on your own and you know whatever you write would mean a lot to these people. That said, you always try your best to point out details that you truly enjoy from these movies. “Okay, I think I’m done with this.”

“Your last work with Seokmin?”

“My last work with Seokmin.”

“I hope you know you’re breaking my heart,” you glare at Seokmin in front of you, his desk resembles him less and less as he has started to tidy up his stuff since earlier this week. As an editor, Seokmin gets his own desk in the office even though he doesn’t have his own office. His desk isn’t that far off yours and, without the dividers, you usually still get to see him everytime you choose to work in the office.

You notice the puppy plushie on his desk is no longer there, the only thing that’s distinctively his is a yellow stationary container still sitting near his monitor. Honestly, it saddens you to see him leave, but you know he’s gotten an offer at a fairly big company and it’s a great opportunity for him.

“You sound like I’m breaking up with you,” he chuckles, though his eyes are focused on the monitor in front of him. “You do know we can still meet each other outside work, right?”

“Yeah, because you definitely won’t be busy as the new chief editor and adapting to a new company,” you pout at him, and Seokmin actually glances at you with a playful smile in return. “And, yes, for the record—you are breaking up with me. I’m expecting an alimony because now I have to deal with Mingyu and Chan by myself.”

“Okay let’s say we’re breaking up, you still can’t ask for alimony because we’re not divorcing,” Seokmin clicks away, but the grin on his face doesn’t falter even a little. “Also, I heard the new editor is pretty good-looking, do you not care about that?”

“I don’t want good looking editor. What if he’s annoying?!” you whine at him, making a fuss in the empty office because everyone’s out for lunch except for you, Seokmin, and Lisa who’s busy editing a last-minute piece on a fashion program on the other side of the room. And probably Joshua in his office because he is rarely not in his office—even during lunch. “What if he changes my writing so it fits his taste, Seokmin? How can you do this to me?”

Sighing at last, Seokmin logs off his computer before finally putting all his attention on you. “Okay, what if we get out for lunch now because you obviously have nothing to do after submitting that review to me?”

You immediately light up at that, your posture straightening right away. Seokmin excuses himself to the restroom and tells you to get ready first, so you go back to your table to take your wallet and your phone. You contemplate on putting on your jacket, but you really can’t be bothered so you leave it there hanging on your seat.

Walking out to stand near the elevator, you absentmindedly scroll through your phone as you wait for Seokmin. The elevator dings, and you wouldn’t have cared nor even looked up if not for the soft gasp from the person inside once the elevator door opens.

You automatically glance up from your phone, your mouth quickly turns dry at what once was a familiar gaze—one that used to look at you with nothing but love, one that you used to find yourself drowning in because there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

You don’t even know how long you’ve been standing there, looking at him with eyes wide open and mouth slightly ajar from shock. It’s probably not long, but it feels like an eternity and it takes the elevator door almost closing again along with Seokmin’s cheery voice calling your name for you and him to get out of the trance.

“Hey, let’s—oh? Hello, can I help you?” Seokmin greets the guy who has just got out of the elevator.

“I’m… yeah, I’m supposed to go to Joshua Hong’s office?” he gulps hardly, eyes both trying to avoid you and hardly leaving you.

Seokmin tilts his head, something clicking in his mind. “Oh, are you Jeon Wonwoo? My replacement?”

You have no idea how Seokmin could miss the way your mouth drops open at the news.

Two.

“Please, please, please, Shua, you know I never ask anything from you,” you plead to him after you’re sure Wonwoo has left. If you’re to be completely honest, you’re a little disoriented after seeing Wonwoo in the flesh. It’s been about a year since you’ve broken up with him, a break up that you force yourself to believe is an amicable one even though you know it wasn’t.

Just because Wonwoo wasn’t screaming and you weren’t pointing fingers doesn’t mean it was amicable. Just because you didn’t slap him and he didn’t throw things around doesn’t mean it was peaceful.

How can it be peaceful when you’re left to tend yourself for months to come? How can it be peaceful when you cried yourself to sleep almost every day and night until your tears dried up and you’re empty inside?

How can it be peaceful when a part of you was ripped apart, and you had to reassemble whatever’s left behind when not all of the pieces were even there for you to piece together?

How can it be peaceful when you still have to blink back your tears even now, almost one year later, when his ghost comes back to you everytime you’re awake at 3 in the morning?

“I… I’m sorry, but you know we don’t have any other editors for you,” Shua says with a worried frown, the guilt in his voice clear as days. While it’s true that you’re probably one of his best employees, rarely complaining and rarely giving him a hard time, it’s also true that there’s no editor left that he can assign you to. He knows whatever it was between you and Wonwoo, it must’ve been bad if it’s to the point where you feel the need to come to his office and personally ask him like this. And he genuinely feels bad for making you work with him, he really does—but he really has no other choice here even is he’s able to pull some strings as your head of department.

“I… can’t I edit my own work?” you desperately ask.

“You know I can’t let you do that,” Shua answers, his tone just as desperate as you. “I’m really sorry, I really am. The best solution I can offer you is… maybe you can just work via email with him?”

You sigh, even though you’ve known since the beginning that there’d be no escape from this. You know there’s no editor left that Shua might be able to assign you to, and you’re fully aware even if there is an editor that might be available, it’s Seungkwan. But his column is actually about, in his words, 'entertainment news' (it's mainly gossips and insiders' talk, really), and you have zero knowledge nor interest towards it, so there’s just no way you’d be able to write a good piece even if your life depends on it.

Okay, that’s exaggerating. You’ve got enough skills to write a decent piece regardless, but honestly? You treasure your writing too much to write just for the sake of working so it’s just not a choice for you. The voice in the back whispers that you can just quit and work for another magazine, but that’s taking things a little too far even for you.

So you thank Shua before you leave his office, assuring him you’ll make it work somehow. He gives you a guilty smile, one that tells you he understands if you’re not going to be as enthusiastic about work as you usually would.

Guess you’ll follow Jihoon and start working from home a lot more now.

Fortunately for you, Wonwoo does not try to force you into a conversation if it’s not about work. Your communication with him is limited to your report and his pointers. One time he replies way too long than he usually would—almost a day late, to be exact—and he didn’t explain why nor did you ask if anything happened.

Unfortunately for your subconsciousness, it has started to reminisce more and more about your time with Wonwoo. And as if that’s not enough torture already, your mind has started to overthink about everything Wonwoo does even when he does nothing.

Right now, you’re struggling with the thought that Wonwoo has stopped caring about you after all because he never tries to talk to you even once, which is very stupid because wasn’t it you who was begging Shua to change your editor just so you won’t have to interact with Wonwoo?

You don’t understand where these feelings come from, you really don’t. Because even if the ungodly hour that is dusk would still remind you of Wonwoo and sting your heart everytime, you’re fine. It’s all good. You’d sleep it away and you’ll bother Seokmin, Minghao, Jihoon, and the others again once morning comes and Wonwoo would be the last thing on your mind. You’d laugh again and he wouldn’t find his way to your memories until you find yourself awake in the lonely hours of twilight once more.

That, or when you just… miss him terribly.

But now that Wonwoo has suddenly shown up in your life again, it all goes downfall and your routine of not having him in your mind 24/7 is messed up in the span of a day.

Why.

You’ve worked so hard to get back on your feet, to return to your daily life without having the urge to cry and get upset at everything that reminded you of him, to fix yourself and try your best to be okay even when you haven’t managed to put all of the broken pieces Wonwoo has caused back together until now.

You’ve always thought that the best way to deal with sadness is to accept it; to let it be and get used to it. Some of them would go away on its own: you’ll forget about it sooner or later and it’d be like it has never happened in the first place once you get there.

And some would stay with you, and you’ll have to learn to live with it. But you’ll be okay even though it would haunt you from time to time, reminding you that it’s still there and has never really gone away. It will get easier to deal with, though, and you’ll still be sad sometimes but you’ll be okay again and that’s the most important thing at the end of the day.

Apparently, your feelings for a certain Jeon Wonwoo go way too deep that they all just burst out of their hiding the moment you see him again after a year—even after having your heart shattered and having suffered for what felt like forever until you’re able to stop thinking of him every single chance you had.

You take a deep breath as the elevator goes up to your office, dreading every time the number goes up one by one. You don’t even know if Wonwoo would be in the office or not, but if Seokmin, Seungkwan, and Mingyu are any indications, you’re pretty certain these editors sure like to be in the office.

Well, you do like to be in the office too until recently, so you really can’t say anything about that.

“Oh, hi!” Minghao greets you the moment you walk through the door. “Feels like it’s been so long since I see you here.”

“Yeah,” you return his smile as you pull out your chair and make yourself comfortable there. From where you’re at, you can see Seokmin’s old desk already filled with stuff that you assume to be Wonwoo’s. You gulp at that, forcing yourself not to look there and see how he has decorated his desk. “Just haven’t been feeling like going to the office.”

Minghao raises a curious eyebrow but doesn’t comment further, knowing that you’ll say whatever’s bothering you when you want to. “How’s Jeon Wonwoo? Jihoon seemed pretty fine with him the other day.”

“Oh, did he come to the office?” you ask instead before you busy yourself with the computer in front of you. Thankfully, Minghao doesn’t seem to notice you’re dodging his question about Wonwoo. What were you supposed to say anyway? That he’s actually a great editor, only points out what’s necessary and give you excellent suggestions? It pains you to admit that you actually work better with Wonwoo than all of your previous editors—even Seokmin. How did he get into editing again?

“Yeah, he’s got a meeting with Shua and I guess he’s finally curious about his editor,” Minghao grins. “Jennie seems pretty comfortable with him, too. I assume you’re also doing well if Jihoon and Jennie has no complain about the guy. He seems pretty cool, too.”

You shift uncomfortably on your seat as Minghao continues to talk about Wonwoo. Xu Minghao has always been a very great co-worker of yours and he’s a good friend too, he’s not exactly quiet but he doesn’t talk a lot, either. That said, you have never thought there’d be a time where you wish for Minghao to shut up.

“—Oh, and, I think I heard that Shinji is going to come here somewhere this week so it might be a good thing that you’ve been working from home.”

You pause at the name and a frown immediately crosses your face. “What business does she have here?”

“My guess?” he glances at you. “To check Wonwoo out. She’s probably heard we’ve got a new, good looking editor and she’s curious. But her official reason would be to see if ‘our works is according to Hyuna’s standards’.”

You exhale tiredly at the revelation; the annoyance over the news actually wins over the bitterness in your tongue. Shinji is one of the directors’ daughter and also the assistant of Hyuna, the art director. Her office is actually two floors below yours, but she’d come from time to time because she, for the lack of better words, considers the people in your floor to be attractive and would sometimes appear just to see them (and flirt around, if she feels like it).

It’s fine, though, being Hyuna’s assistant means Shinji doesn’t—can’t—come often, because she has to basically follow Hyuna around and Hyuna is easily one of the busiest personnel in this building.

You really don’t care that Shinji likes to be flirty in your office, that’s her call and some of the guys seem to enjoy indulging her, too. But Shinji, for some reason, hates you with everything she has. You think it probably has to do with her one-sided crush towards Jihoon a long time ago, the guy barely even looked at her when she tried to get his attention—brushing pass her and went straight to you to discuss about Seokmin’s style of editing because Jihoon had only joined the company at the time.

That was just the first of many reasons she’s made up to justify her hatred towards you. She’s made it her mission to be a pain in your ass everytime she crosses paths with you ever since. She somehow has the capability to pick on the little mistakes that no one else has ever noticed when it comes to your piece.

Back to the present, your eyes widen in horror when the door opens again and you can hear Wonwoo greeting everyone in his path as he makes his way to his table. You’re pretty sure Wonwoo was never this cheery before, but a year is a long time and there’s a lot that can change.

Maybe the one year of not seeing each other is kinder to him than it is to you.

He happily greets Minghao, only then realizing the usually empty table across the guy is finally not empty anymore.

“Oh… Hi,” he awkwardly calls your name, the tone obviously different from the one he uses to greet everyone else. But can you blame him? So you nod in return and force out a thin smile, the exchange obviously noticed by Minghao.

Your friend is still curiously staring at you even when Wonwoo has settled on his desk, but you just continue to pretend like you don’t notice Minghao blatantly boring holes into you as you busily move things around on your table.

“Do you know if Junhui is coming in today?” you ask instead, your eyes focused on the screen in front of you instead of Minghao.

“Not sure. He hasn't been coming in a lot, though. Why?” he answers, getting that you don’t want to talk about whatever it is about Wonwoo.

“I just remembered he borrowed one of my papers for reference last month,” you pout a little. “Do you think I can find it if I look through his table?”

“Wouldn’t it be better if you call Junhui and ask this yourself?” Minghao shoots back, both confused and amused at the way your mouth is turning into a silent ‘O’ as if the thought has never crossed your mind. Three minutes later, you’re flipping through Junhui’s table with your phone between your ear and your shoulder, Junhui himself busy directing you where your file should be on his table through the phone.

Of course his table just has to directly face Wonwoo’s and the amused glance he’s subtly sending you is making your warm and tingly inside.

“What do you mean I should be able to find it near the yellow—Jun, all of the files in your desk are yellow and there are way too many papers here!” you sigh in frustration. Lisa, whose desk is next to his, shakes her head in pity because she, of all people, knows just how messy Junhui can be. “The only file not yellow is this red one, which has a big ass ‘SEOKMIN’ on it—why do you still have Seokmin’s file with you?!”

On the other side, Junhui laughs sheepishly and says he’ll come to the office in the afternoon to help you look for it if it’s urgent and you’re welcome to go through his stuff now if you want. You flop down to his chair and rub your temple, thanking Junhui before you hang up. It’s not actually urgent, but you’re pretty sure both you and Junhui are going to forget about it again and it’ll be months before you finally have your paper back.

After contemplating for a while, you exhale and decide to at least tidy up the surface of Junhui’s desk so it’ll be easier to navigate through later on when the guy comes in. You’re trying your best not to react at the way Wonwoo’s stealing glances at you, and you’ve just finished moving his files to one side and the papers to another when an annoying voice cuts through the office.

You close your eyes in contempt, biting back a sigh when Shinji addresses you first for whatever reason. Of course she has to come on the one day you are in the office. “Well, look who’s snooping through someone’s desk instead of working.”

“If you must know,” you grit your teeth as you try to keep your calm. She’s still the director’s daughter, after all, and there’s only so much space for you to fight back. “Jun asked me to do this.”

The girl simply snickers, eyes falling to Wonwoo in a matter of seconds. You miss the way Wonwoo sends you a worried glance from the beginning, not liking the way whoever this person is talks to you.

You eye her warily as she makes her way to Wonwoo; she stops by the side of his desk, extending her hand and proceeds to introduce herself. Then your eyes go to Wonwoo, and you can tell at once that he’s not comfortable in her presence. He looks stiff, there’s a polite smile on his face and you notice the way he’s gripping his pen a little too tight from where you’re at.

“So, if you’re replacing Seokmin that means you work with her?” she points at you rudely and Wonwoo immediately frowns at that. “Must’ve been hard, huh? I heard she hasn’t been coming to the office these days.”

You gape at her in disbelief, how did she even find out about your working condition?

“She’s actually very great,” Wonwoo says with a tight smile. “She writes so well to the point where it’s almost pointless to have me as an editor, really. And, um, I think the office allows us to work from home most of the time?”

You blink at that, not expecting Wonwoo to stand up for you. At most, you thought he would just brush her off and until she stops because that was the kind of person Wonwoo was. He used to find fights much too bothersome, even more with people he doesn’t know, and would usually let people be until they shut up.

This, too, has changed, you figure, and something inside you churns at the thought of Wonwoo being a different—better—person than when he was with you.

Maybe it was for the best that you broke up, after all.

You jump at the sudden call of your name and, when you look up, there’s Wonwoo with a concerned look on his face. You can feel tingles all over your body at the way your name leaves his lips; how long has it been since the last he says your name? You shake the thought away, looking around to find Shinji nowhere in the office. Wonwoo seems to get who you’re looking for and tells you she’s left to Joshua's office just a moment ago.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, a tone you’re very familiar with. He used to use this tone everytime he’s worried you’d been holding things in a little too much and a little too long, he’d gently run his fingers through your hair, dropping kisses on top of your head as he listened to you vent your heart out. You frown at the memory, a lump forming in your throat at the vivid picture in your mind.

“Yeah,” you manage to croak out, even though you’re sure he knows you’re not fine at all. “Thank you for… earlier. I’m fine, though.”

You stand up from Junhui’s desk after that, not giving Wonwoo a chance to say anything else and then bolt off right to the restroom. You immediately go to the sink, splashing water to your face as if to wake you up from whatever it is you’re on.

You need to get a grip, you remind yourself. You don’t want a repeat of what happened before, you don’t need to relive what happened after you broke up with him.

What you had with Wonwoo was way too deep for you to be able to set it away and just be friends with him. He was your first serious relationship and you’ve always been someone who loves deep—way too deep than you would’ve liked. It's anyone's best guess that the two of you didn't even try to talk after the breakup.

A part of you would like to think that it’s not exclusively because of Wonwoo; that even if it had been someone else, you’d still be a mess because you’re just the kind of person who’s too emotional for your own good. But you also know that Wonwoo played a great part in it; that his playful grin, his gentle words, his fleeting kisses, and his tender touch brought you warmth and happiness like never before.

No matter how it ended between you and him, Jeon Wonwoo was still the greatest love you’ve ever experienced in your life. He let you know how amazing love could feel, showed you how much you deserved to be loved, and taught you how deep a relationship between two people could be.

Along with that, Wonwoo also taught you how painful love could be, how hard it was to pick the broken pieces up, and how much you can suffer over one single person.

It’s sick, and you genuinely have no idea if you can go through that for a second time. You don’t know if you have it in you to love someone like you did Wonwoo ever again—don’t know if you have it in you to risk another broken heart and the process you’d need to go through to mend it.

“Slacking off again, I see,” Shinji’s voice echoes through the bathroom the moment she steps in and sees you inside. She takes a glance at the water dripping down your face, a look of disdain crossing her face before she snickers to herself. “Too sleepy to work that you need to freshen up, huh?”

You take a deep breath before you dry your face with a tissue, once again trying to hold back a snarky remark against her. You opt to stay silent and simply throw the used tissue into the trash bin and are about to make your way out when Shinji suddenly starts her monologue.

“First Jihoon, then Minghao, then Junhui, and now Wonwoo,” she says to herself, though the words are definitely meant for you to hear. “I wonder what it is they see in you. You don’t even write that well.”

She’s doing this to rile you up, you remind yourself, and she’s doing an excellent job at it. You’re not sure why the sound of Wonwoo’s name leaving her lips annoys you more than it should on top of her groundless statement against your works. You don’t wait around to find out what she’s going to say next though, you just quickly get out of the restroom and speedily return to your desk.

The desk in front of you is empty, you notice, but your mind is not collected enough to guess where could Minghao possibly be and you bury yourself in your arms as soon as you perch yourself on your desk. The day has barely started and you just want it to end already.

You’re rarely stressed because of work, if you’re being completely honest. This is a job that you enjoy by nature and, even though it isn’t exactly your dream job, it pays quite well and you’re still doing something you love, which is already more than you could ask for.

The few times you’re stressed during office hours, you’d go up the 6th floor where the outdoor-slash-rooftop park is at and just stare into nothing as you sit down on one of the benches. It’s usually quiet there, a place meant to gather your thoughts or simply bask in the moment, and you’re not surprised to find two or three other people there already; all minding their own business without saying anything.

You clasp your fingers together, looking down on your lap as your mind takes you nowhere and everywhere at once. You’ve learned to tune Shinji out for the sake of your sanity, and while most of the time her words don’t bother you anymore, what she’s said about your works and the way she’s mentioned Wonwoo still brings a bitter taste in your mouth.

Truth be told, you haven’t been really confident with your work the past few months—even before the whole Wonwoo fiasco. This is most probably the biggest writer’s block you’ve ever experienced in your career and it just needs to overlap with Wonwoo coming back into your life and Shinji along with her antics.

Her words hurt because you know the last few writings you’ve submitted aren’t your best works. You could’ve done better, but you have no idea what more to add nor what more you can edit. Frustration doesn’t even cover what you’re feeling. Even Seokmin couldn’t tell why you’re so unsatisfied with your final works because to him, it was already perfect. There was no sentence too wordy, no diction too hard, no nothing. He’d remind you all is good and it’s perfect—that there’s nothing wrong with what you’ve written. It doesn’t one hundred percent help, but it’s Lee Seokmin and he’s the master of reassuring people that everything’s going to be okay.

With Seokmin gone, so is your constant reassurance. You can’t expect Wonwoo to treat you the same, not when you don’t even tell him your own works have been bothering you. Not when he doesn’t try to talk to you and not when you don’t give him any chance to talk either.

“Something in your mind?” Just like he knows you were just thinking about him, Wonwoo appears next to you, startling you out of your thoughts.

You just shake your head, though, unsure if you want to talk to Wonwoo just yet. He’s not even sitting that close to you, but his presence beside you feels intense. The warmth his body is radiating reaches out to you in a more pleasant way than you’d like to admit.

“You’ve got your stressed posture on, you know?” he says softly, though his eyes are looking forward instead of at you. “You’re absentmindedly playing with your fingers, gaze empty, and eyebrows furrowed—”

“Please don’t,” you stop him, trying your best to even your breath. Maybe you’re like this because the day—perhaps even months—hasn’t been kind to you, or perhaps it’s because Wonwoo is so close yet he feels so foreign. But at the moment, you find it getting harder to blink back the tears in your eyes.

“Sorry, I—”

“No, please,” you say one more time, your voice wavering. Frankly, you’ve never imagined you’d be close to tears when you talk to Wonwoo again after so long. You’re not stupid enough to think you’d be able to greet him with a smile, but to be crying in front of him? That’s unthinkable even for you. At most, you thought you’d just pretend like you don’t see him and maybe act like his memories don’t hurt anymore.

But how were you supposed to know that the day you finally talk to him again is when you’re in a slump and it’s just been a bad day after all? How were you supposed to know that you’d want to be near him because his presence still brings you comfort, even when it’s still clear in your mind how much you suffered because of him? How were you supposed to know his voice would still bring warmth to your heart, as if he didn’t break the very same heart a year ago?

“Please don’t speak like we’re close to each other,” you say with a small voice, exhaling a deep breath once you’ve managed to stop the tears from falling down. “You’re my editor and I’m your writer, okay? That’s it.”

You don’t turn to see Wonwoo’s reaction, fearing that however he’d react would shift something within you even more. You immediately leave after that, missing the way Wonwoo’s shoulders slump in defeat, his eyes never leaving your figure until the door of the rooftop closes once again.

Three.

Unfortunately for you, the annual company workshop is coming. This means Joshua is going to be an ass about all of you taking part in it even though it’s barely a workshop and more of a 2 days and 1 night trip, in which you’re all mostly just gonna lay around and relax instead of passing ideas and discussing about the future of your department.

Having only worked there for barely a year, you’ve only experienced one workshop before this. It’s pretty enjoyable, if you’re being honest, just like going on a short trip with your classmates. But with the whole Wonwoo situation, you’re not sure anymore.

Ever since that day, you feel like Wonwoo has put a visible distance between the two of you, which is something that you should be glad for because it was you who basically told him to stay away. But in truth, you just kind of feel bad everytime you catch him stealing glances at you as if he has something he’d like to say.

It’s not like you hate Wonwoo, but you simply don’t think you have it in you to talk to him as if nothing happened between the two of you. It’s been a year, painfully long and short at the same time, but you’re still not ready to face Wonwoo again after the break up. Maybe it’s because, deep down, you know you still want him back, and you’re afraid whatever strength you’ve mustered to stand back again on your feet would crumble in a matter of seconds the moment you let your guard down and talk to him.

The little voice in the back of your mind would sometimes ask if you wouldn’t regret it, if you want to miss the chance of making things better with Wonwoo now that he’s appeared in your life again.

Sometimes you wonder if the fact that you did not see Wonwoo at all in the span of a year is the reason why you’re not as bitter as people would imagine you’d be even after seeing him again. Maybe whatever bitterness and pain you bear have mostly evaporated as time goes by, and even though the scar is still there to remind you about how it came to be, you’re no longer as hurt as you initially were.

You're just mostly disoriented.

Would you react differently if this had happened only three or four months after breaking up with him? You can’t tell for sure, but you know you’d still be too overflown by emotion that you wouldn’t even be half as calm. What you’re certain of is that it was the best choice for you that you didn’t see him at all after the break up; not even on Instagram because Wonwoo rarely updates anyway, and you have developed a habit of not checking social medias to avoid anything that might give you the slightest update on him ever since.

“You look stressed,” Jihoon comments as he sits down next to you on the bench near the main door of your company building, waiting for the others to arrive. There would probably be 10 or so people, as this is a workshop exclusively for your small department and, like from before, you’re just going to use the company cars to go to the rented house.

“I am stressed,” you sigh tiredly. “Shinji hasn’t gotten off my back and she’s somehow managed to convince Hyuna to change the layout of where my work would be in the magazine and it just...changes everything.”

Jihoon sends you a pitiful look, well aware of Shinji’s persistence to make your job harder when she could. “At least we could relax for a short while until tomorrow, right?”

You nod in agreement, about to say something else when Jihoon calls for Wonwoo who has just arrived. You freeze a little at the sight of him, nodding back as he greets you and sits down next to Jihoon. Goddamn it, it has been so long since you’ve seen him in casual clothes and doesn’t he look good even when he’s simply wearing a plain navy shirt with long black pants.

“Has the other not arrived yet?” Wonwoo asks no one in particular—though he hopes that it’d be you who answers—trying not to get caught stealing glances at you.

Obviously, it is Jihoon who answers. “I think I saw Seungkwan, Lisa, and Mingyu inside. Not sure about the others.”

“Who are going, again?”

“Just the people on our floor, basically,” Jihoon says, much to Wonwoo’s relief. “Other than the ones I’ve mentioned; Joshua, Junhui, Minghao, Jennie, Chan, Soonyoung, Somi, and Hanna, I think? Not sure if I missed anyone.”

Wonwoo gives him a silent ‘ooh’ as an answer, not having any comment on that. The three of you fall silent after, and you don’t know if Jihoon can feel the awkwardness looming over you and Wonwoo, but the guy suddenly stands up, much to your horror, saying he needs to go to the restroom and leaves just like that.

You’ve never been so tense in your life before this, but you’re pretty sure at this point, you can cut through the heavy atmosphere between you and Wonwoo with a knife, an awkward distance where Jihoon sat haunting the both of you. You’d stand up and pretend like you’re taking a call if you could, but you’re actually frozen in place as if your body is unsure what to do.

It is Wonwoo who breaks the silence, and you let him be because you’re lying if you say you haven’t been beating yourself up over your own words on the rooftop a few weeks ago.

“Are you looking forward to the workshop?” he starts, picking a very safe topic in hope you wouldn’t shut him off again.

“Yeah,” you reply hoarsely, as if your throat is surprised that you’re answering. “Last year’s was great, but I’ve only been once, so…”

“Right, you’ve been working here for how long?” he asks carefully, hoping that the way he’s looking at you isn’t too intense that it’d make you uncomfortable.

“Uh, it’s going to be a year in a month or so I think,” you reply as you shift in your seat uncomfortably. You actually got interviewed for this job a week before the break up happened, and between the impending doom of your relationship and your reluctance to talk to him at the time, you hadn’t had the time to tell Wonwoo about it. Two weeks after your break up, they called you in and gave you the good news. You’d like to think it’s the universe’s way of helping you distract yourself from your misery even though you still cried yourself to sleep for a few weeks after that.

Wonwoo stays silent after that, his mind immediately takes him back to a year ago when he left your apartment with eyes empty and heart the heaviest he’s ever felt in his life.

He can still remember thinking it’s a relief that he managed to get back to Seungcheol’s place in one piece—because he didn’t remember at all how he got there. It was like his body walked itself to his cousin’s house on autopilot, his mind never leaving you as it replayed the picture of you with your jaw taut and eyes red from holding back tears. He could even see the way your lips trembled as you tried not to cry, and it’s still crystal clear in his ears, even this very second, the way you finally gasped the moment he stepped out of your door, softly closing it behind him.

“You guys okay?” Shua says, making the both of you turn to him in surprise. Shua sends you a worried glance, but you give him a small smile to reassure him all is fine; he’s probably worried, remembering the way you begged him to change your editor.

You look around to find practically everyone’s arrived already. They’re busy talking to themselves, you notice. On one circle is Jennie, Minghao, and Mingyu, seemingly having a serious discussion by the way they’re frowning and hands flaunting around, on another are Somi, Junhui, Soonyoung, and Hanna.

And then there’s Jihoon, that ass, busy having fun as he watches Chan and Seungkwan mess around. This man really has it in him to be laughing after leaving you and Wonwoo together.

You’re never going to tell anyone you’re kind of glad it happens.

You somehow end up being in the same car as Wonwoo even though Joshua literally has all of you draw a stick to decide who gets on which car. You also somehow happen to sit next to him, because you need to go to the restroom last minute and that makes you get in the car last. Of course the only seat available is next to him.

No one tells you you fell asleep on Wonwoo’s shoulder for the majority of the road trip, and you have no idea because your head moves from Wonwoo to Seungkwan who’s sitting on your other side just ten minutes before the car reaches your destination.

No one says anything about the way Wonwoo also fell asleep on you, painting a picture perfect of lovers napping together until he stirs and leans his head back instead.

So far, the day has been better than you expect it to be. You wonder if your little conversation with Wonwoo in the morning helps lessening the tension between you and him if only a little, but the guy seems like he’s less hesitant to hang around wherever you’re at even though he doesn’t engage you in any conversation.

It’s driving you crazy though, the way he’s around but not really. He’s hovering near the kitchen island when you, Mingyu, and Hanna are given the task to cook, which annoys Mingyu who eventually tells him to at least help if he’s going to be standing around. He almost knocks off Mingyu’s special sauce, which makes you laugh when the tall guy kicks him out of the kitchen for being a hazard; Wonwoo frowns before he complies, even though there’s a suppressed smile in his face at the sound of your laughter.

When you’re all sitting in a circle in the living room to talk and play games, Wonwoo’s sitting just two seats away from you; the perfect seat to get a glimpse of you without being too far away. His glances are getting bolder and he doesn’t always look away when you catch his eyes.

Once evening falls and dinner is nearing, you, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung are chosen to do grocery. You’ve only agreed to go if they promise to exclude you from doing the dishes because you’ve cooked already earlier (also, you don’t actually trust the boys to go shopping by themselves, if you’re being completely honest).

Wonwoo doesn’t even try to say no when they tell him to drive because Joshua is sleeping and Mingyu’s still playing in the pool with Minghao.

You should’ve known though, bringing Soonyoung and Seungkwan means the two immediately flee to the snack sections the moment you step into the supermarket. You share an amused glance with Wonwoo, chuckling a little as you push the trolley to the meat sections.

“You’d think they’d have everything ready, huh?” Wonwoo shakes his head even though there’s a smile on his face, happy that you don’t seem to be as bothered with his presence.

“Shua’s only strict about deadlines, not so much about everything else,” you roll your eyes, already expecting something like this was bound to happen. Shua’s unexpectedly clumsy at times, and he’s probably forgotten that he needs to buy enough grocery that’d last until tomorrow morning and not just the meal you’ve all eaten earlier.

Silence envelops the both of you after that; you wouldn’t go as far as saying it’s comfortable, but it’s not tense and only a little awkward which is already a big step in your newfound dynamic if you might say so. The thought has started to consume your mind though, and you’re conscious about how painfully close Wonwoo is next to you. You’re probably exaggerating, because it’s not like his arm’s brushing yours or anything. In fact, Wonwoo has his hands in his jean pockets and there’s a safe distance between the two of you as he continues to follow your step.

You shake your head to snap out of it, immediately turning to see the meat and whatnots.

“I don’t think that’s enough,” Wonwoo exclaims when he sees you about to leave the section, his eyes examining what you’ve put down in the trolley.

“They’re probably going to order chicken and cook ramyeon, too,” you shrug. “This is just the right amount of food, gotta teach them to have enough instead of too much.”

Wonwoo grins at that, very used to this particular tendency of yours because you hate it when people don’t finish their food. Something in his heart flutters at the familiarity of it—of the whole thing, really, he’s missed doing grocery with you.

“You do remember there are a lot of guys? And Jihoon eats like there’s no tomorrow,” he tries to push you just for the sake of it.

Just like he’s expected, you simply glare at him and continue on your way as you push the trolley in front of you. Wonwoo snorts a little at that, but is quick to act innocent when you actually stop in your track and tell him to quit it with your eyes. Wonwoo bites back a grin, then quickly catches up with you and takes the trolley from you.

He’s standing way too close for a few seconds, his hand brushes yours when he pulls the trolley to himself that you actually inhale a deep breath and gladly exhale when he steps away and pushes the trolley forward. You can practically hear your heartbeat drumming like crazy in your ears and nothing has even actually happened.

“Are you not coming?” Wonwoo calls you over when he realizes you’re not following him. When he looks back, you look up at him in surprise as if you’re in a daze. He doesn’t comment on it, though, simply signals you to start walking.

“Oooh, look at this,” he takes a bag of chips and shakes it around. It’s one of your favorites, you notice, and you can recall the how much Wonwoo used to nag you over the stack of chips in your apartment. “I’ll take this one.”

You look at him in surprise, the words out of your mouth before you even realize. “You don’t even like snacks.”

“I enjoy them from time to time now,” he mutters with a shrug, a spark of hope lights up in his heart because of your words. Wonwoo drops his voice lower before saying, “Reminds me of you.”

“What did you say?” you ask, not quite catching his words.

“Nothing,” he gives you a small smile, pushing the trolley again to the next section so you wouldn’t see the hopeful look in his eyes. “Where do you think Soonyoung and Seungkwan go?”

“Here!” Soonyoung answers helpfully, his voice coming from the aisle right next to where you and Wonwoo’s at.

The both of them, apparently, have taken another trolley and it’s full of no actual food, just lots and lots of snacks and too much sugary drinks at the bottom of it. You look at them, unimpressed, and at least they still have the decency to smile sheepishly.

“Come on,” Seungkwan tries to convince you, and Wonwoo simply watches the scene in front of him in amusement as he leans his weight on the trolley handle. “It’s the company card! And Shua really doesn’t care that we’re buying snacks instead of food—ow! Don’t hit me, woman! I will report you to the upper high for abuse!”

Next to him, Soonyoung has been nodding in agreement until you send a glare his way.

“It’s less about company money and more about you guys consuming too much of these in the span of one night,” you tell him, a worried frown on your voice.

“We can always bring whatever’s left to the office’s pantry,” Soonyoung pipes from the side quietly, looking at you like a child asking for permission. “...or not?”

Wonwoo laughs at that, nudging you a little so you’ll wear the glare off. “He’s right, you know? You can just separate some of the snacks and leave them in the car if you’re worried they’d be eating too much. Our pantry is getting emptier, anyway.”

You turn to him in betrayal, and Wonwoo has to hold back everything in him not to squish your face. “You’re on their side?”

Wonwoo nonchalantly shrugs with a coy smile. “It’s not like you don’t enjoy snacks, too.”

“Moooom,please?” Seungkwan calls you with a playful grin, his hands swaying your arm from side to side. “Even Dad says yes.”

You gape in disbelief, mostly because Seungkwan is implying you and Wonwoo are a thing in his made-up family, though Wonwoo just seems to be happy with the whole situation from beside you. “I hope you know if I were to adopt a kid it wouldn’t be you.”

Seungkwan lets out a dramatic gasp, leaving you to hug Wonwoo’s arm instead. The taller guy just barks another laugh and lets him be. “How can she? How can she?”

You notice Soonyoung moves from the corner of your vision and you look at him warily, waiting to see what he’s going to do. But he quietly stands next to you, weakly circling his arms around yours like a little kid even though his height is towering over you.

“I’m on your side, Mom,” he declares innocently, and Seungkwan still has it in him to act like he’s in disbelief, shaking his head at Soonyoung in mock betrayal.

“Great,” Wonwoo claps once to get your attention. “We get one child each. Pretty fair, I would say.”

You unknowingly snort at that. The situation is pretty amusing even if you’re in denial about the whole thing. And, along with the wayyour face is getting warm, you know the reason behind the butterflies rowdily flying in your stomach is because of the stupid grin in Wonwoo’s face.

Four.

After dinner, the lot of you actually sit down in the living room to talk about how work has been to all of you, if anyone’s having a hard time writing or if there’s any concept suggestions about your magazine’s special edition.

The discussion goes on for a good three hours with almost everyone taking turns to share their ideas or simply talk about their struggle with writer’s block. Mingyu shares that the managing editor has been annoying these days, which Wonwoo and Seungkwan easily agree with.

You mostly just listen, not really in the mood to talk about your own writer’s block even though you know these are the people who would whole fully understand. When Lisa talks about how she’s been struggling because she has, without meaning to, changed her style of writing, you can relate to the desperation in her voice on a spiritual level.

“It’s just… frustrating,” she has said earlier. “My writing doesn’t feel like it’s my writing but I don’t know what’s exactly wrong with it.”

Mingyu, as her editor, has told her to take it slow and reminded her that changes aren’t always bad and her works are still one of the works the editor-in-chief always favours. You wonder what would Wonwoo say if this was you, but you don’t really have any plan to confide Wonwoo in about it even though things are definitely no longer tense between the two of you after the grocery episode.

It’s midnight when the discussion comes to an end, some immediately wash up to get ready for bed while some hang around the living room. You find yourself sitting on the edge of the pool, your feet submerged in the water as you bask on the quiet night under the moonlight, a ballad playing on your earbuds to accompany you at 12 in the evening.

“Can I join you?” you hear someone say, and you look up to find Wonwoo staring down at you. You’re pretty sure he’d leave if you say no, but you nod and turn your head back to stare into the pool in front of you As you remove your airbuds before putting them in your pocket. Maybe it’s the little alcohol within you speaking, but you’re not in any hurry to turn him away.

At least not right now.

“Why are you outside?” You break the silence, surprising him.

“Not sleepy yet,” he tells you half the truth, though he doesn’t continue and says he sees you heading out and wants to take the chance of talking to you. “You?”

“It’s a beautiful night,” you shrug, your hand softly playing with the water.

“You have always liked the moon and the stars, haven’t you?” he says without missing a beat, only then realising that it might be too soon to talk about stuff he knows out of memories. He’s about to apologize when you chuckle instead, the sound of it warming his heart in ways unimaginable.

You look down on your fingers moving in the water; back and forth, back and forth. “That I do. There’s just something so beautiful about them, you know?”

“They are,” he smiles gently even though you don’t see it. “You must try looking at them from this camping site in Gapyeong. You’ll love it.”

You turn to Wonwoo in surprise, your heart skipping a beat at his proximity. Has he been this close the whole time?

“You go camping now?” you ask in astonishment. Your Jeon Wonwoo from a year ago would never even know about camping sites and this Wonwoo is recommending you camping sites for stargazing?

“Seungcheol forced me to go with him once,” he explains, smiling at the memory of Choi Seungcheol basically pulling him from his room so he would stop moping over you. “It was unexpectedly healing, so I’d tag along from time to time now.”

A gentle smile blooms on your face at the familiar name. You used to talk to Seungcheol from time to time before, and even though you’re not exactly close with him, he was still one of the dear friends you’ve lost over the break up with Wonwoo.

“How is he, anyway?” you decide to go for it, might as well now that you’re here.

“Still wrapped in Yoon Jeonghan’s fingers,” he grins, sharing another laugh with you at the mention of Seungcheol’s boyfriend. The two have been dating for years now, and, at some point, the four of you would do movie nights together during weekends. You’re glad that part of Wonwoo’s life hasn’t changed yet.

“Have they moved in together at last?”

“Yeah, by kicking me out,” Wonwoo scrunches his nose in mock annoyance, though he’s happy for the couple. You send him a curious glance, one that he knows you’d give when you don’t mind if the other party doesn’t wish to say anything. “I… uh, I lived with Seungcheol for a while after… we broke up. Turns out they already planned on moving in together when… when I needed a place to stay. The room I used was supposed to be Jeonghan’s when they needed time for themselves, but they told me I could use it until—uh, until I find a place on my own. Eventually I moved out, though, because I knew they actually wanted privacy and Hansol told me he’s looking for a new roommate. So… yeah.”

You stay silent after that, collecting your thoughts together before you answer him. You remember thinking about Wonwoo’s whereabouts after he walked out of your apartment. He practically lived with you before even though you both had never really talked about it; but what was there to say when he already had his own drawer in your place? When you already took turns washing the dishes and doing chores as if it’s the most obvious thing to do?

What was there to say when the warmth of his body against yours was always the first thing that greeted your sense the moment your eyes fluttered open?

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. Beside you, Wonwoo slightly shifts to get a better look at you, unsure what prompts your apology. “I… I feel like I should’ve given you more time to look for a new place. I could’ve stayed with my sister while you… packed up and got ready. Instead, everything was rushed and I’m sure a lot of your things are still in my place.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Wonwoo reassures you, his comforting voice still has the effect it did a year ago. “I got Seungcheol too, and it was pretty nice living with him. That just gives me a reason to come back and get it someday, yeah?”

You force out a smile, though you nod, to Wonwoo’s surprise, telling him he’s welcome to come and gather whatever he has that’s still sitting in your apartment. “I’m pretty sure Jisoo and Chaeyoung simply chucked your stuff that caught their eyes into that big bag and be done with it.”

Wonwoo slightly swings his legs in the water, enjoying the cold feeling against his skin.

“I could tell,” he grins. “There were mostly my pants and barely any shirts, did you know? They somehow packed the pairs of shoes and the toothbrush I left in your place, though.”

“I know,” you laugh, your mind goes to the box full of Wonwoo’s shirts and some of his stuff still hidden in your closet. “Hansol probably didn’t check too. And… I guess we… haven’t had the chance to take care of it.”

You look down to the water, the silence enveloping the both of you suddenly feels heavy in a different way than before. It’s like something’s pushing you to talk, to finally stop avoiding the past and discuss it with Wonwoo, to face your fear and... maybe make peace with it—but what were you supposed to say? That you still miss him and you’ve practically forgotten why you broke up in the first place?

Beside you, Wonwoo moves to get out of the water and you gulp hardly when he extends his hand to you. You take it without hesitation though, letting him pull you to the little gazebo near the pool. You almost whimper when he lets go of your hand and sits down, patting the space next to him to signal you to do the same.

“I miss you, you know?” For a second, you think it’s you who’s said it out loud, but Wonwoo’s voice quietly rumbles through the night. You fidget a little on your seat, the chilly weather plus the fact that you’ve just gotten out of the water makes it somewhat colder. “I’d still think about why we broke up, traced back about what could possibly lead up to it. But whatever possibility that came to mind just seemed… fixable to me, like things that we could’ve talked over.”

Your mind takes you back to the cold war between you and Wonwoo leading to the break up. You’re pretty sure a spark of insecurity was the root of it; perhaps, it once crossed your mind, you were much too romantic and you believed love shouldn’t be able to go cold, that the flame between the two of you should always fire bright without burning off even a little.

You remember speculating if you’re getting bored of him—or he, you—that maybe your love wasn’t as strong as you claimed it to be, and the thought planted even more seeds of insecurity onto your mind. Because how could your love for him get cold when you’ve always thought he’d be the one? How was it possible that you became reluctant to talk to him, afraid that you wouldn’t have the same enthusiasm as you once did once he replied?

How could it be true if you end up with a broken heart for months to come? If your love for him has gone cold, then why did you end up crying yourself to sleep nearly everyday after the break up? If all of that was true, then how come you turned empty inside like the half of you had been ripped apart?

If you no longer love him, then how come you still long for his warmth and his laugh even after going through what could possibly be the worst heartbreak in your life?

“Why… do you think we broke up?” you ask, blaming the trace of alcohol in your system for the bold question.

Wonwoo coughs in surprise, but quickly regains his calm not long after. Before he answers, though, you cut him off again.

“Let me rephrase that,” you bite your lip, suddenly realizing how painfully close Wonwoo is sitting next to you. “Do you think… it was right, that we broke up?”

You can hear Wonwoo take a sharp breath beside you and you wonder if you’ve asked the wrong question. What right do you have to ask about this, anyway? You were practically the one who pushed him away and it wasn’t until today that you allowed him to make a conversation with you, but now you’re asking him this? Even you wouldn’t answer if it had been the other way around.

But Wonwoo doesn’t seem to mind and you’re unsure if you’re simply imagining the way he shifts closer to you.

“Do you want me to be completely honest?” he says, looking at you. You hold his gaze and Wonwoo takes your silence as a yes. “It’d be a lie to say I still think about it everyday since then. But at some point, I did. I thought long and hard about what went wrong, about our problems, how it came to that. I tried to remember if you’d said something—anything, really, that might be signs that I failed to catch. But I’m not...sure if I’m just really daft or if I simply can’t remember.”

You’re about to reply, but Wonwoo is seemingly not done and he continues to spill his heart out—things that he doesn’t think he’d be able to tell you if he waits any longer because he’d hesitate, he’d change his mind, and he’d regret that he didn’t tell you.

“I thought we should be okay, you know? I loved you and you loved me, and I thought that was enough,” he smiles bitterly. You wince at the use of past tense, wondering if it means he’s completely moved on from you and if you ever really stop loving him.

“But of course it wasn’t. We need more than that to keep a relationship going no matter how much I loved you and you, me. It’s… it’s not until I started living with Seungcheol and Jeonghan to notice this, to be honest. Living with them means I got to see the stuff that we don’t usually see in a relationship, like how they fight and how they make up.

They probably also had to tone it down a little with me around, but it was still clear to me how much they tried to be the bigger person for each other when problems arose. Sometimes it’s not their fault, but they know the other isn’t in the best condition so they let it be. And then, after a while, they’d apologize and move on like the fight has never even happened.”

You stay silent at this, trying to digest his words as your mind replays the way you and Wonwoo would usually just give each other the cold shoulders when something bothered either of you. You’d like to blame your and Wonwoo’s tendency to be quiet, but it was a part of you that you should change to have a healthy relationship. It’s also true that with your tendency to just give each other the silent treatment after a fight, you started thinking that talking it out would be a waste of time, that it would lead to another fight and you’d rather just avoid it altogether.

This, you finally realize, along with your idea of the perfect romantic relationship, is what eventually drifted you two to an end. It wasn’t that you stopped loving each other, your feeling for each other was very much real; just that you didn’t know how to properly grow the flower that was your relationship.

As much as Wonwoo was your first serious relationship, you were his, too, which is why you both were wandering on a pretty much unfamiliar territory. Just like Wonwoo, you also thought your love for each other should be enough to keep the relationship alive, but you forgot that a flower doesn’t only need water to bloom; it needs the sun, maybe even fertilizer, and a touch of regularity. It’s a constant process. You don’t stop taking care of the flower even after it blooms; you continue taking care of it until you come to the decision of plucking it off.

You wonder if your flower with Wonwoo had even bloomed properly when you two decided it was enough.

You take a deep breath, and then you finally tell him about how you felt and what you think drove you to that decision. That you were insecure and you thought something was wrong with your enthusiasm towards him gradually lessening, that maybe you were getting too used to his presence that it didn’t excite you anymore.

“It wasn’t… supposed to be like this, I remember thinking to myself,” you sniffle, the memories of those nights bringing tears to your eyes. “I loved you so somuch, but why did I find myself getting less excited talking to you? It scared me… what if you’re feeling like this, too? And then you also started to talking to me less and less and—”

“Oh, baby,” Wonwoo quickly moves closer to you as you suddenly choke on your tears, the petname he used to call you when you’re feeling down slips out before he even realizes. But that’s not important and neither of you really care when you’re literally trying to hold back your sobs behind your palm to no avail.

Wonwoo pulls you to his chest, and that’s when your wall crumbles and the tears freely fall from your eyes. Wonwoo continues to whisper against your head, doing his best to comfort you and to calm himself down because this is not the time to have his heart drumming rowdily against his ribcage when you could probably hear it from where you’re at.

When he feels your fingers gripping his shirt, Wonwoo hugs you tighter, as if that’s even possible. Once you’ve calmed down enough and your hiccups are the only thing that’s left, you hear Wonwoo whisper once again that it’s okay and he’s sorry for the time he left you to cry on your own. You almost cry again at that, but you take a deep breath and rest your head against his chest for a few seconds before you finally look up at him.

The first thing that comes to your mind is Wonwoo’s so beautiful like this, smiling down at you under the moonlight. You don’t know why he would be smiling at you when you’re certain you’re looking a mess; your eyes are probably puffy from the sudden outburst and your nose is most likely red from the same reason.

But Wonwoo’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid his eyes on and you’d be lying if you say it doesn’t make your heart flutter like crazy.

Wonwoo reaches up to cup your face, his thumb carefully caresses the trace of tears there as his other hand rests on your waist.

“Would it be stupid if I say those were my exact thoughts at the time, too?” he smiles a little too bitterly. Not at you, but at the reminder that he was too busy with his insecurity that he didn’t realize you were basically in the same situation as he was. If only you both had talked it out...

“Huh?”

“I… I was afraid you’re getting bored of me, so when I noticed you’re talking to me less and less I… just thought it’d be best to follow your pace. I don’t want you to feel like you’re forced to be in this relationship—to be with me.”

You let out a small gasp at that, your fingers digging into your palm as everything suddenly clicks in your head. “Is that… Is that why you simply agreed when I… when I brought up the break up?”

Wonwoo smiles tightly before he nods, the hand that was on your cheek falls down to his side and you can feel the fingers on your waist tightening. “I always… told myself that there’d be no way for us to break up… unless you’re the one who asked. Since the beginning, I promised myself to let you go if it was your call because I don’t want you to...feel like our relationship is a burden you have to carry. So when you said you want to end...us, it didn’t matter to me that I didn't want it to end. What mattered was you thought it was best that we end it and I must’ve done something wrong if it came to that point.”

The countless nights that you cried because you thought Wonwoo didn’t care flash through your mind. All those time… you could’ve just talked to each other and go from there. Instead, you both had assumed and made the wrong choices, suffering by yourselves for… nothing, apparently.

“We’re so stupid, aren’t we?” you say it out loud, an incredulous laugh coming out of your lips.

Wonwoo simply chuckles, and you can feel yourself getting warm as his arm has somehow wound itself further around your figure. You exhale a little before braving yourself to scoot closer and rest your head against his neck. You can obviously hear Wonwoo take a sharp breath at that, but you don’t say anything about it.

For a moment, you and Wonwoo simply stay like that, no words are exchanged even though there’s a silent question looming over the both of you. For now, it’s just the two of you pressed against each other under the bright moonlight at ungodly hour that usually would haunt you awake.

At some point, you’ve started to talk about anything and everything, and you’re laughing with each other as if you weren’t just crying your heart out not even an hour ago.

“No, really! I can’t believe you would go camping with Seungcheol willingly,” you shake your head with a laugh, looking at him with eyes that Wonwoo believes reflect all the stars in the universe. How he misses this—misses you and your laugh and everything about you.

“Well, if I’m being honest,” he starts, a shy grin on his face. “He had to drag me out because he thought the time I spent alone in my room after the break up couldn’t be healthy.”

Despite his light-hearted tone, your heart stings. You’ve never imagined that he’d be suffering just like you were, and to picture Wonwoo being in a more or less same condition as you were—

“Hey, it’s fine,” he cuts off your thoughts, knowing that it will go literally everywhere if he doesn't. “It’s passed and… it’s not just your fault. Didn’t we agree that we were both stupid?”

You give him a small smile and a nod, telling him that you get what he’s saying but it’s hard not to blame yourself because you were the one who asked for the break up after all.

“Maybe we needed it,” Wonwoo says, prompting you to look up at him curiously. “Maybe we needed the break up to happen to get to this point. If we kept our relationship without trying to figure out what was wrong, we would just hurt each other more—assume more things and choose more wrong decisions. The time we spent apart allowed us to step back and figure things out slowly, which was what we exactly needed, don’t you think? Yes, it would’ve been preferable if we didn’t have to go through those miserable thoughts, but I’d like to think that it’s just… a part of the process that we needed to go through so we can grow—so we’d know better.”

The both of you fall into silence after that, your head snugs deeper into his warmth and his arm hugs you tighter to his side. You wonder what this means to the both of you, and you’re pretty sure Wonwoo does too, but you’re not brave enough to voice it out loud, afraid that it’d be too fast, that it would burst this bubble of happiness you’re sharing with him.

This morning you were still trying to avoid him, and now you’re here plastered to his side, sharing warmth with each other as if it’s the most natural thing to do.

The silent question heavily engulfs the two of you and, after some time, it’s Wonwoo who takes the first step.

“You know we don’t have to decide anything right now, right?”

You pull away to meet his eyes, and there’s a certain kind of tenderness in his eyes that would’ve made you weak on your knees had you not been sitting down right now.

“We’ve got time and we can… try to figure out what would be the best after this,” he says softly, one of his hands reaching out to fix the hair that falls into your face and pushes it back behind your ear. “But, for the record, I hope you know this isn’t me hesitating to be with you again.”

Your heart quickens at the thought of getting back together with this man in front of you, and you know Wonwoo’s giving you time to figure out if that’s what you really want. As much as you wish to jump back into the relationship with Wonwoo again to make up for the time lost, you know there are a lot of things you need to discuss with him, to make sure that your relationship wouldn’t crumble because of the same reason again.

This time, you have to make sure your flower will bloom into its best form instead of getting plucked somewhere along the way or worse, withered.

This time, you have to remember that it’s not only water your flower needs, that you have to take care of it with love and with constant effort no matter how big or small.

“We’ll figure it out together?” you ask softly.

Wonwoo smiles before he nods, and then he moves forward to let his lips linger on your forehead, your skin tingling from the touch.

“We’ll figure everything together.”

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved.

[pretendfan]

{Roommates} ONE

{A/N: Imagine being roommates with Adrian Chase! I have wanted to desperately write a story where Adrian and reader are unexpected roommates with all the slow burn, will they won’t they moments and of course eventual smut🔥and here is the beginning I have it ALL planned just need to write it❤️}

Hope you enjoy the first chapter it’s an on going fic😘😉

{Pairing}

Adrian Chase x Female Reader

{Summary}

Desperately in need of a roommate, your co-worker knows a guy, but why did it have to be Adrian? The guy both annoyed and frustrated the hell out of you getting under your skin from the very moment that you had meet him.

But this was only temporary there was no need to complicate things by really getting to know one another or even worse catch feels along the way. Sure it had been a while for both of you but hooking up with your roommate was a terrible idea…

wasn’t it?

{Word count}

3524

{Warnings}

Mention of readers ex, swearing, 18+ ONLY

{ONE}

Work was really trying to push you today, but knowing how to push back only meant you knew how to kick ass as a supervisor, and be very good at your job.

Which wasn’t exactly true you just had to keep telling yourself that otherwise you had nothing, because currently work was the only thing you had a firm grip on.

Karma coffee had eaten up five whole years of your life but you wasn’t bitter about it or at least that’s what you told yourself daily. The coffee shop stood proudly in the shitty town of Evergreen which you were now stuck in.

Stupidly following your boyfriend from DC to, well here hadn’t exactly been ideal but you’d made it work, until your boyfriend recently became your ex and here you still were.

“Dig up her bones…”

The song by the Misfits started blasting out through the speaker system interrupting your thoughts from the kitchen. Karma coffee was allowed to play music, you even let most of your co workers chose, but not this guy.

“Hey, Scott!” You yell at one of the baristas who had his hands raised but drops them when he turns at the sound of your voice.

“Oh hey Y/N!” Scott smiles quickly whilst not so subtly turning down the music to a more acceptable level.

“What did I tell you-“

“Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?” Scott questions cutting you off but not even noticing as he smirks back.

“I’m busy and so should you be, can it wait till later?” You ask not wanting to get caught into a conversation with Scott who was harmless really, a bit of a flirt with customers (we have had complaints) but overall a nice guy.

Whilst supervising the team who you tried to treat as equals, but you were pretty sure they just walked all over you nowadays, you busy yourself with paperwork the boss should have done but apparently Conor Michaels was too important for that shit.

“Can you please tell Scott to turn off his shitty emo music please it reminds me of being at high school.” Phoebe another barista asks a little later walking into the office you had been hiding in unsuccessfully without even knocking on the door.

“Just ignore it-“

“You’re not wasting Y/N’s time by bothering her just cos you have shit taste in music.” You hear Scott before he appears which was a usual occurrence the guy was always very loud when present anywhere.

“I have a shitty headache, I’m hungover can’t you even-“

“Hey, can I talk to you now?” Scott cuts off Phoebe who glares at her coworker then turning on her pink heeled trainers, curly blonde hair in a high ponytail bouncing over her shoulders she storms off hopefully back to the front of the shop.

“Be quick, you guys should be working.” You tell Scott firmly but even to your own ears it sounds kinda flat, you were really stuck in a rut at the moment.

“Ok, so I have this huge favour-“

“If it’s regarding holiday you know I can’t fix that it’s Conor’s job.” You remind Scott in a sing song voice.

“No, it’s nothing like that it’s regarding the spare room you have, you still have it right?” Scott asks you with a neediness in his voice that makes you look up from the blue folder in front of you.

Shit, why was Scott asking about the spare room? The one you clearly still had because you had zero interest, your best friend Lara blamed it entirely on your sparkling personality.

If Scott had someone who was interested you knew deep down that you had to give it to them, because the rent alone was eating heavily into your wages even though you had considered moving recently.

For several months now you had posted online about your spare room but after only a handful of applicants, none of whom had returned your calls plus you were still avoiding your ex who had recently decided to make a reappearance, after leaving you high and dry.

Left with a bruised heart and a little more bitterness in your step you had gone on autopilot, working and hanging out with Lara who was always there for you.

Not to mention your ex had started calling you again which meant you needed to change your number, plus someone was knocking on the front door late at night something told you that it was him too.

Needing to report that at some point you knew you just needed a roommate, that would solve all of your problems, literally anyone would do at this point.

You look up at Scott who was still talking all the while you had zoned out, until you hear a familiar name that makes your stomach flip.

“It’s Adrian who needs a place to stay?” You ask Scott who grins back at you sheepishly fully aware of your thoughts on his old school friend.

“He got kicked out of his apartment when his shitty roommate decided to move in his girlfriend but she didn’t like Adrian being there.” Scott informs you pulling a sad face trying to play on your good nature which you knew was still in there somewhere.

But what Scott wasn’t aware of was that this was like a golden ticket for you, finally a roommate, but did it really have to be him?

“That is shitty-“

“It totally is!”Scott cuts you off brushing some stay black hair away from his forehead as he continued “Thing is Adrian’s been crashing on my couch and my apartment is tiny!”

“Can I think about it?” You ask even though the obvious answer was to say yes you just needed a moment alone to think of the consequences.

“Sure, I finish at four so-“

“I will let you know then.” You nod with a smile as Scott smirks back then thankfully heads out of the office.

As soon as he has gone you drop the smile, quickly wondering if you could deal with sharing an apartment with Scott’s friend, even though you knew that this was the only option right now.

Cursing softly to yourself you try to weigh up the pros and cons of having Adrian Chase as your roommate.

All you really knew about the guy was that he was Scott’s oldest friend and just being in the same room as you, usually lead to you both arguing over the stupidest things, that Scott found hilarious every single time it happened.

Obvious pros would be that you worked full time so you wouldn’t exactly see Adrian much, rent would be paid meaning you had more spare money, and maybe having him there could dissuade your ex from coming round.

That makes you smile to yourself because sure Adrian was tall but he didn’t look like the type to start a fight, but it wasn’t as if you needed him to protect you, you could look after yourself.

Ok, so back to the point you think about the cons an obvious one being that the guy annoyed the hell out of you, he knew this and managed to hit all of your buttons at once like an obnoxious kid in a lift.

Yet despite all of this you secretly harboured a soft spot for the dude and his idiotic smile, complete with dimples that made your heart skip but you always chose to ignore that, best to always focus on what annoyed you about him instead.

Defences firmly up when around Adrian it was almost as if the guy knew he weakened the walls you had put up every time you saw him, there was no way you would ever admit your feelings hoping that the crush would just fuck off eventually instead.

You were definitely missing having that certain someone in your life, but there was no way you would throw yourself at Adrian, just friends or barely even friends would suit you just fine.

He needed a place to stay, you needed a roommate you could do the math, there was no other option…shit. Besides Lara had said recently you needed to be less defensive and let someone in so now was your chance.

At four PM on the dot Scott appears out the back where you were getting some fresh air, and a quick moment to collect your thoughts, or so you thought.

“Verdict?” Scott asks with an apprehensive look on his face as he hops from foot to foot standing in front of you.

Clearing your throat you tell him regretfully that “Adrian can move in but it’s only temporary we can arrange-“

“So that’s a yes then?!” Scott cheers excitedly his brown eyes filled with surprise like he cannot believe you had just agreed.

Neither could you…

“I know you two don’t really get along, so is this like a terrible idea or the greatest one yet?” Scott asks you with an awkward laugh.

“Only time will tell.” You reply with a smile already regretting this because you liked to keep your work and personal life separate yet here you were trying something new.

“This is gonna be great!” Scott tells you heading to the tiny parking area Karma coffee was given making you instantly regret your decision had you just made a terrible mistake.

Next day at work, a boring Wednesday, Scott gives you Adrian’s number saying he has agreed to check out your apartment just give him a message at what time, and it’s a date.

Carving out some free time is hard so you both agree to Friday, early evening, the apartment clean and inviting so you add some music on low but then turn it off for the TV instead.

It wasn’t as if you were trying to woo the guy just hope that he agreed to stay here, temporarily, so you had some help with the rent and to see if you could stand actually having Adrian in your personal space.

Outside of Y/N’s apartment which was situated on the ground floor Adrian considered this as a plus, despite all the other negatives that had crossed his mind when Scott had told him he’d found a place.

Adrian laughed when Scott simply explained it was your place that had a spare room until his friend had given him an awkward smile he knew all too well.

To say you disliked Adrian would be a joke in itself because you were always ready, to argue with him over anything and everything, sure it was fun and even a little hot at times but nothing else had ever come from it.

Perhaps now was his chance to be less like an idiot around you but he knew that wouldn’t happen it was his go-to whenever he encountered a smoking babe, even one who yelled at him practically all the time.

Before you could call Adrian and cancel there is a loud knock on the door, but it then descends into a bunch of little knocks which was super annoying, making you realise that he was already here.

Pulling open the door you see Scott smile at you whilst Adrian just nods readjusting his wire framed glasses making you look down and that is when you see the suitcases and boxes at his feet.

“Planning on moving in right now are we?” You question sarcastically because of course Adrian would do whatever he wanted blindly walking into the apartment, his huge backpack almost knocking into you as he turns back round to face you.

“Well you did agree that I could stay here, so here I am.” Adrian tells you clearly not picking up on your tone but like always Scott clears it up for him and you watch as Adrian scans his eyes around the apartment.

“So, is this all your stuff?” You ask him there wasn’t very much he shrugs back to answer your question, well this was going to be fun wasn’t it.

You make an effort to remain civil, as you catch Adrian looking down at your sage coloured sweater, which made your stomach flip but you tell yourself to get a grip.

You notice Scott also looking around and when he catches you watching him, he rewards you with a double thumbs up, at least someone was happy.

“It’s ok.” Adrian tells you with another shrug which makes you instantly forget your precious efforts of being nice.

“Oh! It’s just ok is it?” You retort sarcastically but not without adding “ Im sorry it doesn’t meet your high standards.”

“It will do for now that’s what I meant, jeez!” Adrian cries giving you a funny look as he continues “You said this was only temporary so it will have to do.”

This infuriates you even more because you hated being corrected, which instantly starts the pair of you to argue at one another, shouting over each other’s comments not really listening just both venting.

“I could go somewhere else!”

“You are so fucking annoying!”

“What did I do?!”

“Just you being you!”

“Why are you always so mean to me?”

“Because you drive me insane!”

It isn’t until you notice Scott watching you both with a bemused smirk on his face that you stop, he looked like he had just realised something suddenly, whilst you were busy arguing but you didn’t have the time to ask exactly what right now.

“So, is this the room?” Adrian asks pushing the door in front of him open thankfully it wasn’t your room.

“You are staying then?” You ask hopefully making Adrian turn round to face you.

With a grin appearing on his face slowly those dimples making a reappearance as you try not to stare he states firmly “ Just stay out of my room, ok.”

“Oh , sure like I would go in there anyway!” You retort lamely with an eye roll then add “Just don’t make a mess, tidy up after yourself and we will be fine!”

So that was that you finally had a roommate you look behind you to see Scott has walked off towards the front door, still with that bemused look plastered across his face.

“Enjoy your first night together, you two!” Scott shouts out which makes you glare at him not amused in the very least as he shows himself out.

You glance back to see Adrian at his bedroom door, green eyes watching you until seconds later he closes the door in your face making you curse under your breath.

This wasn’t going to end well…

Silently walking away from the bedroom door resisting the urge to kick it hard with your right foot, you head instead towards the fridge and grab yourself a beer. Picking up your phone from the kitchen counter you decided that you really needed to hear a friendly voice right now.

Letting out a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding, you call Lara’s number and thankfully she picks up on the fifth ring.

“I now officially have a roommate.” You tell Lara with a groan instead of saying hello.

“Ok, first of all who is this? And secondly what the fuck, you get a new roommate without telling me they could be a psycho?!” Lara yells angrily.

“Calm down you need to stop listening to murder podcasts before bed and I know the guy he isn’t a psycho just-“

“Your new roommate is a dude?” Lara questions and you fail not to notice the excitement in your friends voice.

“He is friends with one of the baristas at work, it’s nothing, he’s annoying but I blame you for this by the way!” You explain with a laugh.

“What did I do? I haven’t even met the guy, is he hot that is all that’s important right now.” Lara retorts with a light chuckle.

“You told me to be nicer to people and here I am with a roommate who is annoying as hell I deeply regret this decision.” You sigh knowing you sounded petty but you didn’t care, it had been a long fucking day.

“Well I did say that but not for it to totally mess things up if it won’t work just-“

“I need the money for the rent and we’ve both agreed it’s only temporary.” You explain cutting off whatever Lara was about to say.

“So there you go, who is he?” Lara questions hearing once again the smile in her voice.

“You won’t be hooking up with my roommate, especially seeing I doubt he is your type.” You laugh knowing Lara would be pouting at her phone right now in response.

“I don’t have a type thank you very much but let’s talk about you for second, what do you think of him?” Lara questions with a smirk on her voice.

“Adrian definitely isn’t my type.” You state firmly whilst ignoring that feeling low in your stomach as you then add “I don’t think, he’s an alright guy and all I just don’t know a lot about the dude-“

“Hey, wait did you say Adrian? As in the guy who you always moan to me about after work who is always annoying-“

“Yes him!” You cut Lara off but then add hastily “He needed a place to stay for a while and here we are, that’s the story.”

“Oh I get it now!”Begins Lara with a soft laugh as she elaborates “You actually like the guy that’s why your helping him out isn’t it?”

“What? Actually like Adrian, you are joking I don’t even know the guy that well I-“

“No you don’t need to say anymore I get it now!” Lara continues to laugh down the phone making you want to throw it across the room.

“No you don’t-“

“I’m gonna have to meet this guy soon maybe he can help you out of your dry spell because someone still needs a rebound!” Lara announces in a sing song voice then follows it by cackling at you so you hold your phone away from your ear.

“That won’t ever happen with Adrian-“

“Er, Y/N!”

You stop what you are saying when you hear the guy in questions voice, making you turn round to see your roommate smiling back awkwardly.

“I’ve got to go!” You snap down the phone then ending the call you look back up at Adrian.

“What’s up?” You ask trying to sound nonchalant and not like you had been talking about the guy not ten seconds ago.

“I was just gonna apologise for Scott and just moving in like this I-“

“It’s ok!” You cut him off with a smile trying to avoid Adrian spiralling because if he did that he would forget to pause for breath and just talk for hours.

Nodding Adrian looks at you with a sly grin and asks “ So who were you talking to about me?”

“I wasn’t-why would?” You start but seeing the chuckle escape from Adrian’s lips you decide to own up it would be easier for everyone “I was just telling my friend Lara you had moved in temporarily.”

“Oh, the hot leggy blonde that looks a little like Taylor Swift!” Adrian asks excitedly making you arch an eyebrow at him and his oddly specific match even though Lara had a passing resemblance to the pop star.

“How do you know what Lara looks like?” You ask Adrian whilst pulling a confused face.

“Scott pointed her out to me he knows I like tall blondes.” Adrian shrugs with a small smile.

“I take it you have a type then.” You ask Adrian who winks back at you and says “Haven’t we all?”

With that Adrian returns to his room, even though he was here right now it still seemed strange the idea of having the guy as a roommate.

Then it hits you what Adrian had just said about everyone having a type making you wonder if he had heard a lot of your conversation with Lara, how long had he been standing there for exactly?

There was no way in hell that Lara was meeting Adrian, no matter how impossible a task that would be keeping them separate from one another, but you would try your hardest to avoid such a thing from happening.

Plus you had both agreed this was temporary even though you weren’t sure why, constantly making a point of reminding yourself was actually helping matters. You didn’t have to get to know the guy or even hang out with him, he was here in your life but Adrian didn’t have to be a part of it.

What Lara said during the call earlier springs back in your mind about not having found a rebound yet, it was as if you had just focused on work and nothing else. Which is what had exactly happened, leaving you feeling in need of some attention suddenly making you feel a little hopeless and very needy.

Even though there was a new guy in your life, there was absolutely no way you were going to try and hook up with Adrian, the guy was your roommate after all so there was no way in hell…

No. Way. In. Hell.

{TAGLIST} comment to join❤️

@angiekurosaki @joelsgun @aprilfire18 @likeficsinthewnd @druigss @tiannamortis @dazzledamazon @uncle-eggy

[shemarmooresfedora]

Sugary Sweet Apologies

Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)

A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.

“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.

“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.

“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.

“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.

You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”

Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.

“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.

-

David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.

He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.

“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”

Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.

“Excuse me?” David asked.

“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”

Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.

“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.

“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.

“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”

David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.

Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.

“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.

“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.

“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.

Spencer never checked on you.

-

You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.

However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.

During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.

“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.

No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.

“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.

“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.

“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.

“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.

Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.

Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.

“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.

“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.

The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.

Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.

Dear Reid,

Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.

Thanks again,

Y/L/N

Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.

You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.

He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.

Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.

“Is she okay?” he asked softly.

“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.

“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.

“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.

-

You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.

You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.

You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.

“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.

“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.

“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.

“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.

“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.

You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.

“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”

“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.

“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.

You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.

“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.

“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”

“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.

Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.

“It’s okay,” you understated.

You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.

“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.

“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

Spencer muttered something incoherent.

“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.

“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”

“In what way?” he curiously asked.

“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.

“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.

“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.

When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.

In typical elementary school fashion…

Will you go get coffee with me?

Check:

Yes

or

No

Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.

“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.

“It’s a date,” he smiled.

[sirenascales]

-> double black [part one] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPov!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

A night out drinking leads to a small misunderstanding with a handsome, yet dangerous man. [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader]

3,894 words

note: edited this so it could still be read as a reader fic! it's actually a lot of fun writing in first person! hope those who read this enjoy my first bsd fic!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist

I've experienced a lot of amazing things since I've moved to Japan. A new job in a different country, new co-workers and friends, work parties, themed bars, cafes, and hookups with pretty strangers. There was a long list of great things I've had going on, and a long list of things I've never expected... and being fired from the job I had for a year was not one of them.

"A year of hard work... for nothing," I mumbled bitterly as I sat at the bar with my close friend, and now ex-coworker, Keiko. She was beautiful, with long black hair and brown eyes. She frowned, a sympathetic look on her pretty face as she sighed.

"I'm so sorry," she said softly, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "I'm sure you'll find something else soon! You have an awesome resume, and you're an amazing worker who can speak English, Japanese AND Spanish... there is totally a place for you out there!"

Keiko has always been supportive and enthusiastic, a really bright and friendly girl who made it her mission to befriend me as soon as I started working with her. She was relentless, and soon enough, I found myself spending many hours with the woman.

"Yeah..." I just mumbled again and she laughed softly.

"It's okay to mope... that's why I brought you here!"

"Yeah, about that," I started, sending Keiko a look as I swiveled the stool so my body faced her. "Why did you bring me here?" As soon as the work day was done, Keiko immediately dragged me to what was clearly a mafia bar. That didn't surprise me, since she was actually dating a mafioso.

A mafioso, who was part of the Port Mafia. It wasn't long after I moved to Yokohama that I started to hear stories about the organization, and was also warned not to cross them. Of course, with my luck, I became best friends with someone who dated someone who was in the Port Mafia. How a sweet girl like Keiko ended up with a man like him, I'll never know.

What I do know is that Taichi adored Keiko, gave her everything she could possibly want and need with the money he makes, and that was just being a normal grunt! Even so, it was dangerous, but Keiko didn't seem to mind.

"I come here with Taichi all the time," Keiko answered, sipping her drink. I turned to sip on my own. "You can't tell me it isn't luxurious." It was. My jaw had dropped to the floor when we first stepped into the very luxurious bar. "Don't worry about it, okay? Drink your sadness away! You're safe here. Since I am Taichi's woman, and you're with me, nothing will happen, okay?"

"Where is Taichi anyway?" I asked, glancing over her shoulder when I spotted a group of men walking in through the entrance. I missed the way the light left Keiko's eyes, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously. My eyes were on the men, which in the middle was a man with orange hair, a black hat adorning his head. I felt my breath hitch in my throat, my eyes looking at the very handsome man up and down. I swallowed thickly.

"He had a job tonight and couldn't make it. He'll be home to- hey, what are you looking at?" Annoyed at me ignoring her, she turned in her seat, a shocked look on her face before she smiled tightly.

"Taichi! I thought you had an assignment!"

"Hey, babe! We finished early, which was quite surprising, honestly."

The couple embraced and I barely registered the mushy love between the two as I watched the ginger man lead the rest of the group further into the bar. He walked by me, and before I knew it, dark blue eyes were staring right at me, eyebrows furrowed.

"The hell are you looking at?" he sneered and my face turned red, heart dropping in my chest.

"No one! I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, quickly turning back around and facing the bar.

"Tch. Whatever," the man only responded before walking off.

"You look like a cherry," Taichi said, clearly amused. I sent him a half-hearted glare, Keiko slapping his chest lightly.

"Be nice to her. She got fired today."

"Ohh, that sucks. If you need help-"

"She won't take it," Keiko said with a huff. "Stubborn ass."

I rolled my eyes at her, biting my lip nervously as I fiddled with my glass. "So uh... who was that guy? With the hat?"

Taichi blinked. "Oh, that's Chuuya Nakahara."

"Is he part of the Port Mafia?"

Taichi barked out a laugh, Keiko giggling softly behind her hand.

"Baby... he's an executive. Chuuya works closely with the leader of the Port Mafia."

"And I work under Chuuya," Taichi finished, amused at how wide my eyes have gotten at the answer.

"You mean to tell me... I pissed off... an executive member..." I was dismayed, heart pounding in my chest.

"Hmm, probably. Don't go home alone tonight," Taichi grinned as I balked, clearly having fun torturing me.

"Taichi! Babe, don't listen to him."

I gulped nervously, downing the rest of my drink before signaling to the bartender to get me another one.. "R-right..." Despite my better judgment, I turned my head, looking towards the obvious VIP section of the bar. Chuuya sat with some other grunts, a glass of what seemed to be red wine in his hand. Of course, his eyes found mines yet again and I whipped my head back around. Fuck, I did it again! I quickly downed the newly made drink, unaware of Chuuya's eyes narrowing as he watched me.

"Nooo, do you have to go?" a drunk Keiko whined as she latched onto my arm, a forever amused Taichi watching on. "Don't leave me with hiiiiiiim."

"I want to go home, dammit," I huffed, successfully peeling her off of me and handing her to her boyfriend. "I have to start job hunting tomorrow. Thank you for bringing me here, I do feel better and I love you but... I'm tired."

"Ugh, you are such an old lady!" Keiko whined again and I couldn't help but laugh, turning to start walking towards the exit.

"Goodnight, you too. Please get her home safe, Taichi."

"I wouldn't count on it~"

I rolled my eyes at his teasing, leaving the two behind as I left the bar. I stepped out into the cool night air, shivering a bit as I closed my cardigan tightly around me. I wore a simple but cute outfit; a black dress with burgundy tights underneath, black flats on my feet and my favorite tan cardigan over the entire outfit. It helped me fight off a bit of the cold, but as I started to walk down the block, I grabbed my phone to start searching through my usual rideshare app.

I didn't get far. My phone cluttered to the ground as it fell out my hands, a gasp leaving my mouth as I was slammed against the nearby brickwall of a narrow, dark alleyway.

"Who the fuck are you?" a familiar voice hissed and I'm shocked to find Chuuya Nakahara glaring daggers at me, his strong hands pinning my arms against the wall. He growled when I didn't answer. "Answer me! Who sent you here?!"

"N-No one!" I cried out, shaking like a leaf. Of course, of course I would be confronted by a fucking high level member of one of the most dangerous organizations in Japan. "I swear, I just came here with my friend."

Chuuya growled again and he flipped me around, pressing my front against the wall. "Stay still," he grunted, and my face started to heat up as I felt his gloved hands quickly feel along my body. He was frisking me, and I gulped when he shoved his hand under my dress, producing the knife I had strapped to my thigh.

"I carry that to protect myself," I immediately explained, Chuuya turning me around again to face him. His eyes were still narrowed, staring me down as if trying to figure out what the hell I was up to.

"And the bouncer didn't pat you down?" he questioned and I shook my head quickly.

"No, he didn't pat me or Keiko down."

"Tch, that's Taichi's woman," he said, though he still looked at me with narrow eyes, hesitating a bit before he turned my knife in his hand, handing it back to me hilt first. "You sure know how to make yourself look suspicious."

I cringed a bit as I strapped my knife to my thigh strap again. I missed how Chuuya's eyes lingered, him licking his lips. "That's my fault I... I know I was staring..." I could feel my face heat up again and I couldn't even look Chuuya in his face. "S-sorry if I creeped you out. I don't mean any harm. Keiko brought me here 'cause I got fired and she wanted to help me feel better..."

"Hm," was his only reply, crossing his arms over his chest. "What you do to fuck up?"

My mouth fell and I sputtered as I tried to come up with the words. "What do you mean?! I didn't fuck up!" I protested. "It literally came out of nowhere! I worked my ass off all year, only to get fired 'cause I wasn't what they needed anymore. Fucking bullshit."

Chuuya was amused by my little vent, snickering a bit as he gave me a quick look up and down. "I'm sure it wasn't your winning personality."

I scoffed. "Says the one that shoved a random woman against a wall?! That hurt, you bastard!"

Chuuya raised his eyebrows at me, and I immediately slapped my hands over my mouth.

Oh no. Fuck, I forgot who I was talking to.

Chuuya snickered again, his eyes flashing in amusement. He stepped closer to me, making me press back against the wall again. Chuuya leaned his face close to mine, a smug smirk on his face as he spoke.

"Be careful who you talk to like that," he hummed, and I shivered despite feeling some of his body heat. "Someone might just cut out your tongue for talking back like that. Me? Well, it'd be a waste, especially when I think of all the things I could make you do with it."

I squeaked, the heat never leaving my face as I stared at Chuuya with a puzzled expression on my face. The sudden switch up was giving me whiplash... and lowkey turning me on. "I..." I stuttered, looking away and finally noticing my phone still on the ground. "Crap, I hope it's not broken."

I rushed over to pick my phone up, ignoring Chuuya's hard stare on me. I looked over my phone, sighing in relief when I saw that it had sustained no damages.

Chuuya then stepped up to me, jerking his head back towards the bar before walking off. "Let me take you home. Take that as an apology for being so rough on you."

I blinked. "Um..."

"Hurry up!"

"Okay!" I squeaked and followed after the man quickly, chewing on my lip as I asked myself... what the fuck was I doing? Am I really about to get inside this man's car? He was a stranger! Who frisked me! Let alone, he is clearly a dangerous man.

I must be insane.

"Tell me," Chuuya started and I was dumbfounded as he approached a rather cool looking motorcycle. No way. "What the hell were you being so creepy for?" He turned to me and asked, an all-knowing smirk on his face. I blushed deeply. Of course, he already was able to figure it out once he realized that I wasn't a threat.

"No reason," I huffed out, earning a low laugh as Chuuya grabbed the only helmet I could see. I looked at him confused, gasping when he unceremoniously placed the helmet over my head. "What about you?"

"I don't need it," Chuuya simply answered before he finally mounted his bike. "Come on, you little liar. Hop on."

I couldn't help but stare, my mouth going dry as I took in the image of this handsome bastard with his bike. The engine roared as he turned it on, revving it a bit and making me make a mess in my panties.

"Hey, ya done eyefucking me, dollface?"

I sputtered. "I was NOT eyefucking you!" I stormed over to the bike, glaring at the grinning bastard as I climbed onto the bike behind him.

Chuuya snorted. "Yeah, like you weren't eyefucking me earlier in the bar," he retorted, easily reaching behind him to grab my wrists, pulling me against his back as he wrapped my arms around him. I was stunned silent, from his words, and his actions and the fact that his back felt so solid.... and he smelled so good...

"I was not..." I mumbled, pressing my cheek against his back. "Shut the fuck up."

He laughed darkly, and that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Where do you live?" Chuuya asked and I hesitantly told him my address. "I know where that is. Hold on."

"You do? It's on the other side of the city," I said and Chuuya just chuckled softly, looking over his shoulder and smirking at me.

"And who exactly runs this city?"

I clamped my mouth shut, his eyes staring into mine. I blushed and looked away from him. He turned his head back around with an amused laugh, the engine revving as he took off on his bike.

"Hold tight, dollface!"

He didn't have to tell me twice, my arms tightening around his torso as he sped down the street, weaving in and out of traffic. It was scary, but also so fucking exhilarating. My heart was thudding in my chest, my eyes watering because of the wind. Still, I kept them open, wanting to watch the world blur by us. Chuuya made a sharp, right turn, making me scream while he laughed loudly. 

"Man up!" he yelled at me.

"Stop driving like a crazy person!" I yelled back.

I didn't see the large, almost evil smirk that grew on Chuuya's face. Didn't see him licking his lips excitedly as he eyed a rather tall building coming up ahead.

"Tell me, dollface," he hollered back at me, revving the engine and I gulped as I held him tighter, his bike going faster. A bad feeling started to settle in my stomach, balking when he asked his next question. "Do you want to defy gravity?"

I didn't have time to answer, not when I finally realized that we were heading right towards the side of the building. I couldn't even scream, fear striking me as I suddenly started to see red, body jostling as Chuuya maneuvered the bike to jump in the air.... before landing perfectly on the side of the building and continuing vertically up towards the sky.

"Don't let go!" Chuuya sneered. Like that was ever going to happen.

I didn't dare turn my head to look down, my wide eyes staring up into the night sky as we made it closer to the top of the building. I couldn't even think straight, my body just running on nothing but adrenaline and fear.

"Ch-Chuuya!" I gasped out sharply, the bike finally making it to the roof of the building. Chuuya didn't slow down though, only barreling towards the edge and I started to panic. "Chuuya! What are you doing?!"

Chuuya only snickered, revving the engine once more before sending the bike flying off the edge of the building. I squeak and screw my eyes shut, pressing my face against the middle of his back. I didn't want to watch us plummet to our doom.

"Hey, idiot, open your eyes."

I whimpered and shook my head. "N-No..."

Chuuya sucked his teeth. "Just open your eyes! You'll regret it if you don't."

Biting my lip, I wanted a moment before I lifted my head up and opened my eyes, a small gasp leaving my mouth as I looked around me.

We were still floating in the air, biking moving through the sky. The City of Yokohama was lit up beautifully underneath us. I looked over, seeing the ocean at a distance, the ferris wheel lit up and spinning slowly. My mouth had fallen open, eyes wide in wonder. Chuuya was looking back at me, a triumphant grin on his face.

We made it to my apartment and Chuuya stood over me, an amused smile on his face as he watched me melt on the ground after I got off his bike.

"That was intense..." I mumbled, still feeling the effects of flying through the fucking sky. "I shouldn't even be surprised that you're gifted, with the power that you have already in the Port Mafia."

"Yeah, it was pretty great, huh," Chuuya said smugly, gloved hands stuffed in his coat pockets. I laughed softly, slowly standing up with my shaky legs. He took one look at my frazzled state and he grew even more smug. "That's a cute look on you, though if I really had my way with you, you wouldn't even be able to stand."

My face turned hot, sputtering as I tried to respond, but I had nothing to even say. Because the thought of actually inviting Chuuya inside and--

"Fuck..." I breathed out softly, looking at the man standing before me. His eyes didn't leave mine, the heat in them making a shiver go down my spine. "Do you... want to come inside?"

Chuuya fixed his hat on top of his head. "Lead the way, dollface."

"So... your ability lets you control gravity?" I asked once we made it inside the elevator of my apartment building. We were going fifteen stories up, after Chuuya parked his bike safely, of course.

"To put it simply, yes," Chuuya answered, stepping closer to me. I gasped softly when he grabbed my chin, the leather of his glove pressing against my skin. "But we're not here to talk about that." He pressed himself against me fully, leaning his face in until his lips hovered just above mine. I shivered, looking at him with hooded eyes. "This will be a one time thing, dollface."

I nodded, appreciating his honesty. "Of course," I replied just as the elevator stopped on my floor, doors sliding open. I grinned at him. "So let's make it count."

He liked the sound of that, grabbing my wrist and leading me out the elevator. I rushed to my apartment, grabbing my keys and hurriedly unlocking the door before opening it.

The door slammed shut as Chuuya immediately pressed me against it, his lips on mine in a fervorous kiss. I knocked his hat off his head as I ran my fingers through Chuuya's hair, moaning when his hands started to roam all over my body.

"Fuck..." I moaned softly when Chuuya started to kiss down my neck, squealing when he squeezed on my ass.

"Damn... you won't be able to fucking sit right, either," he growled against my neck as he massaged my ass and thighs. "Let's go."

Groaning when he moved himself away from me, I rushed to lead Chuuya to my bedroom, our clothes coming off in the process and making a trail on the floor.

It didn't take us too long to start really going at it, our lust fueling us to incredible heights. Chuuya held my hips tightly with his leather clad hands, thrusting his hard cock in and out of my soaking pussy.

He was fucking me hard, my body just sprawled on the bed as I moaned and grunted from the pleasure this man was giving me. "Fuck, fuck, Chuuya!" I whined, making the man grin widely as he kept his pace. Sweat covered both of our bodies, moans and deep growls mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

"That's right, dollface, ride me," Chuuya smirked up at me, now on his back as I bounced up and down on his cock. His hands were right on my hips, his eyes going back and forth between  watching my bouncing breasts and watching his cock disappear inside my heat. "Fuck, you're so fucking sexy," he growled, thrusting up particularly hard and making me toss my head back, screaming when I finally fucking cum.

"Oh my God!" I gasped sharply, still squeezing around him as I began to slow down. "Oh fuck... it's so good," I moaned, reaching out and hooking my finger into Chuuya's black choker. I pulled and he pushed himself up, lips meeting mine in a messy kiss.

I moaned against his mouth, still slowly riding him as his hands ran up and down my sides, the leather cool against my skin. Then, Chuuya placed his hands on my hips, and with a mischievous little smirk, he licked his lips. Immediately, my body started to feel a little bit lighter, and Chuuya started to effortlessly bounce me up and down on his cock, 100% controlling my body with his ability.

"Chuuya..." I moaned his name, head lolling back. He continued to maneuver my body, little grunts and moans leaving his own mouth as he worked to reach his own pleasure, and mine.

I came again, tears falling down my face from the intense pleasure, and that was enough for Chuuya to pull me off of him completely, putting me on my knees before him on the bed. His hand grabbed the back of my neck and he pushed my head down, stuffing his cock in my mouth.

"Take it," he growled, his hands in my hair and using it to push my head up and down as he fucked my mouth. I moaned around him, a new wave of pleasure washing over me as I let the mafioso use me as he wanted. Soon enough, he exploded into my mouth, and I made sure I swallowed all of him.

"Fuck, that's hot..." Chuuya breathed out when I opened my mouth to show him that I did so. "You're such a good girl, dollface."

That made me flustered and I looked away shyly, earning a chuckle from him. I looked over when I felt him get up from the bed, thinking that he would leave. Instead, he just gave me a look. "Where is your shower?"

We showered together,  which took longer than needed because Chuuya couldn't keep his hands to himself. I was surprised when he climbed into bed with me afterwards, allowing me to cuddle against him as we slowly fell asleep.

I wasn't surprised though, when I woke up the next morning, sore and alone. I didn't get too upset about it, though. Chuuya laid it out clear and I accepted it and moved on.

I sat on my dining room table, looking through the newspaper as I sipped on my morning coffee. I was looking for a new job and figured looking at the local ads wouldn't hurt.

"Hm... let's see..." I whispered, reaching over and grabbing my knife. I ran the tip of it down the paper, stopping when one particular ad stuck out. "Hm... the Armed Detective Agency, huh? Interesting..." I set my knife down, staring at the ad as I took another careful sip of coffee.

-End

[babymetaldoll]

DIWK - Chapter one: "Yes, I'm a genius"

Word count: 10,5 K

Warnings: Cursing, but it's mostly a fluffy nerdy start to our story.  Mentions of the L.D.S.K episode (Season 1, E06) and A real Rain (Season 1, E17).

Summary: Spencer meets the BAU new member, a young S.S.A. who happens to be just as nerdy as he is. (Y/N) is excited to join her dream job finally, but she is decided to create an imaginary barrier between her personal life and her job 'cos she doesn't want to make the same mistakes her father had done.

A/N: It's happening!!! I'm so excited!! I'm sorry it's gonna be long, so I hope you enjoy the ride 💕. Let me know what you think!  

Series Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen | 

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Spencer's point of view

I remember everything that happened the day (Y/N) first arrived at the BAU. It was Monday, November 7th, 2005. Morgan had teased me for a whole week already, as soon as Hotch told us a new member of the team had been selected.

I first saw her when she had her last interview with Aaron and Gideon. My eyes were glued to her from the moment she stepped into the bullpen, and of course, Derek saw me.

- "What caught your eye, kid?"- he asked, walking to my desk. He sat on it and cut me one of his smirks, telling me he knew something was going on. I cleared my throat, trying to turn to my pile of paperwork, going through the papers, and narrowing my eyes, pretending to read.

- "What?"- I know I couldn't fool him, but at least I tried.

- "Do you know her?"

- "Who?"- Morgan looked at me in silence. He knew I knew what he was talking about- "The... no, Hotch is talking with someone..."

I was completely flustered.

- "That I can see, do you know her?"

- "No..."- I whispered and looked over again, this time staring at the scene inside the office, trying to figure out what they were talking about.

I could see (Y/N) smiling at Hotch, and he... smiled back, which still surprises me. Our Unit Chief never smiles in the office, and somehow, (Y/N) always manages to make him grin and express tenderness. I guess that's one of the things about her I love, the way she always manages- somehow, I still don't know how- to make everybody around her happy. Especially me. I had never been as happy as I've been since I met her.

- "Hey, Hotch!"- Morgan waited until she was into the elevator to call Aaron and start asking questions- Who is she?

- "That's Supervisory Special Agent (Y/F/N) (Y/S/N) (Y/L/N), and she is going to be part of the team, starting next week."

My heart stopped. (Y/N) was gonna work with me. I was never going to have another intelligible thought or idea if she was going to be around. Of that, I was sure.

Derek turned to me with a grimace of taunt as I tried my best to look away and hide my red blushed cheeks. Damn it. I hate it when he makes me feel like a kid. He did that then, and he still manages to do it now, even when I'm already thirty years old.

- "Did you hear that, pretty boy?"- I was so glad it was just him and Hotch. I didn't want anyone else to listen to that conversation- "You are going to get many chances to talk with that pretty girl."

- "We are going to have to go through the fraternization policy then."- Hotch joked. Yes, he joked and smiled as he walked away.

I could barely talk or even look at her during her whole first day. I was so embarrassed that week 'cos I had just failed my firearm qualification, and I knew everybody was judging me. At least that's how I felt. It didn't work that Morgan welcomed me that morning with a freaking whistle. I felt like the mockery of a Supervisory Special Agent of the FBI, and of all days, (Y/N) had to arrive that morning.

We had a long briefing that day, JJ catching (Y/N) up with a few cases we were reviewing, and Hotch gave her the proper induction to the team. Penelope loved her. It was friendship at first sight.

- "I'm so happy you are here to stay! There aren't enough girls here at the BAU!"- she nearly squeaked as soon as we left the meeting room- "I want to know everything about you! We are going to be best friends. I can feel it!"- (Y/N) smiled at Garcia and nodded.

- "If you are a cat lover and a sucker for nerdy things, then I guess we are already family."

Her answer made Penelope shriek in excitement as I walked back to my desk quickly. I knew Derek wasn't going to waste the chance to embarrass me in front of her, and I needed to avoid it no matter what.

- "Considering it's your first day, and so far we haven't got a case, I say we should all have lunch together. There's a small place nearby"- Morgan smiled sweetly at (Y/N), and she nodded.

- "I'd love to."

- "Spencer here was just telling me how he wanted to know how you got to the BAU so young; he is excited not to be the team's baby anymore"- I turned to Morgan slowly. I swear he could feel the daggers from my eyes.

- "How old are you?"- she asked, and her smile left me speechless. I tried to answer, but I couldn't make any sound but an awkward stutter.

- "He's twenty-four"- Elle had to answer for me, 'cos I had literally lost all my verbal abilities- "His birthday was a few weeks ago."

- "Congratulations! I'm twenty-four too! I'm so happy I'm not the youngest! My brother teased me about it for the last couple of days and got me all freaked out."

She looked so happy to be there. When you spend day after day surrounded by the worst of humankind, you seem to enjoy and appreciate the little gentle things in life. Her excitement was one of those. It was refreshing.

- "That's..."- it was so hard to pronounce any word at that moment. I was flustered and mortified 'cos I was making a fool out of myself.

- "That's great."

That was all I managed to say. Then, I looked down at the papers on my desk, doing my best to avoid any conversation. JJ and Elle talked to her for a few more minutes before returning to their duties, and Derek tapped my back as he walked to his desk.

- "Way to go, Romeo."

- "Shut up."

We never made it for lunch that day, 'cos we were called for a case in Illinois, and I was embarrassed in front of (Y/N) for the very first time. The first of many.

.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I could never forget the day I met Spencer. We were just kids. We were both twenty-four, and that was the first thing that caught everybody's attention on my first day at the BAU. We were the youngest, though he was a genius. I was an average kid who graduated high school at sixteen, got good grades at college, and got into the academy at twenty. Somehow I managed to kick ass until I got the position of my dreams in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I felt too young and inexperienced to be there, but seeing Reid's face made me feel a little better.

Hotch introduced me to everybody: Morgan, JJ, Elle, Penelope, Gideon -the legend- and Doctor Spencer Reid. He didn't shake my hand, explaining he has a "germs thing." I waved and said I understood him because I've always had a "hug thing," so we are both on the same page.

- "I don't like people touching me if we are not close friends or family."- I explained, and he smiled right away. That smile. It lit up my days for years to come.

- "Me neither, so don't worry, I'm not gonna try to touch you"- I bit my lips as I nodded, and his cheeks turned blood red with embarrassment immediately

- "Sorry, I mean, I'm not going to do anything that might bother you, like hugging you or..."

- "Don't worry, Dr. Reid, I understood what you were trying to say"- he kept nodding and excusing himself, and I tried not to laugh. He seemed to be so nervous it was endearing.

- "You... you can call me Spencer, or Reid"- he added- "You don't need to call me doctor."

- "You can call me (Y/N)"- and he nodded again, looking like a ten years old kid.

I remember clearly that second, right away, I thought he could be my new best friend. There was something about him that made me want to get closer to him.

- "Great! Now we've got two weird kids."- Morgan quickly said, chuckling, and I frowned at his words. I wanted to give him the snarkiest answer, but I remembered it was my first day, and I was still trying to give a good impression to my new coworkers, so I just stared.

- "You know, treating them like kids won't make you look wiser."- Elle whispered, though I heard her perfectly, as Hotch called to the briefing room.

- "I'm just joking with them! Don't you get a joke?"

I thought it was rude to joke around with someone you had just met, but soon after that, I realized Derek Morgan meant no harm. He was like that. And soon, he became the older brother I never thought I was going to need at work. After all, it was my first official job, and it was a very stressful one.

.

My first case was nerve-wracking. Gideon snapped in front of me, and I felt I wasn't helping at all catching the sniper. We are not supposed to use that word, but fuck it. Besides, Spencer and Hotch were kept hostage by the unsub. And Aaron had to beat the shit out of Reid to save all the hostages. Reid was so embarrassed, and I was so scared.

Scared of looking weak in front of my team. Afraid of not deserve being at the BAU.

I remember Elle brought me a coffee on the jet on our way back and said the words that resonated in my head when she left.

- "No one expects you to be perfect at what you do. We just need someone who gives the best every day."

I looked into her eyes and nodded. That was one of the few intimate conversations we had. Elle wasn't the one to open her heart and share her feelings. But she was always someone who could tell you the truth and support you when you needed it.

.

- "Hey! Reid!"- I waved at him from my car as I stopped next to him outside the BAU. It was already two in the morning, and he was outside the main building waiting for a cab.

- "Hey (Y/N)."- he whispered as I rolled up the window and looked at him.

- "Do you need a ride?"

- "No... no, thank you"- he hesitated and waved- "I already called a cab."

- "Are you sure? it's gonna start raining any minute now."

And just as I predicted, a few seconds later, Spencer's glasses were covered with tiny drops of water. He smiled and took a step closer to the car, opened the door, and got in.

- "Th... thank you"- he whispered as I smiled

- "It's ok, I couldn't let you there, on your own, waiting for a cab, not after coming back from a case."

- "I'm ok..."- maybe he thought I was implying the beating he got from Aaron earlier that day, so I did my best to tell him otherwise.

- "I bet you are, but it's fucking freezing, and we are all tired. There's no way you are waiting for a cab if I can drive you over... what about your car, by the way?"

- "I'm not a fan of driving; I take the subway to work every day."

- "Really? Why not?"- I was surprised by his answer, but I was way more surprised we were talking, finally.

- "I don't know, I don't feel comfortable driving... the guys say I'm weird."

I turned to him, raising an eyebrow. He looked so nervous it made me feel bad. Maybe I had done something that had bothered him and never noticed it.

- "That's not weird"- my voice was soft, trying to calm him down. Spencer looked like a scared kitten sitting on my car's passenger seat.

- "If you don't like driving, that's ok... I don't like talking on the phone with people. It makes me anxious for no reason."- I confessed, keeping my eyes on the road. But I know he turned to me and nodded.

- "That's completely normal. It's called "telephone phobia" or "phone phobia," which refers to the irrational fear or discomfort with speaking over the phone. Psychologists believe that this condition is related to social anxiety, which causes a person to avoid situations where they will need to act. Making a call is essentially a performance, and some people dread making a mistake, freezing up, being ridiculed, or not being able to perform in front of an audience."

- "Really?"- he just nodded and kept his eyes on the road- "I didn't know it had a name! My insurance should cover it."

And he finally laughed, which made me feel he was maybe a little more relaxed around me.

- "This is me."- he announced, and I parked outside his building. It was a nice place, and conveniently, it was very close to my house.

- "Great! I live just a few blocks away. I can give you a ride to work whenever you want"- I might have sounded a little more excited than I should have, but I wanted to be friends with him. He was the closest in age with me at work, and he looked so shy and friendly. He was a magnet. Spencer Reid was calling for my friendship. I could feel it.

- "Th.. thanks"- he stuttered and nodded as he opened the door and step out of the car- "Thank you, again."

- "You are very welcome!"- I answered with a big smile. He stared at me for another second and waved before turning around, basically running into the building.

I wish I could go back in time to those days. Everything was more uncomplicated, we were getting to know each other, and everything was brand new: Reid's rambling, my bad jokes. I miss that. I miss us.

It wasn't easy to get close to Spencer. It wasn't easy to get close to the team, probably 'cos I was overthinking every single thing I did. In my first couple of weeks, I was as friendly as I have ever been and made my best to be the (Y/N) I had to be as an FBI Agent. I was making a tremendous effort to fit it. I was nervous and walking on eggshells the whole time. Every time Hotch talked to me, I was sure he would tell me I was fired. When Gideon looked at me, I was sure he thought I was the dumbest agent he had ever met. And every time I spoke at the morning briefings, I just could feel Spencer thinking I was stupid.

.

- "(Y/N)! (Y/N)! I was looking for you!"- Penelope ran into me outside the lady's room and jumped on my face, making me scream- "Sorry!"

- "It's ok, you just almost killed me of a heart attack, but that's ok... I'll survive."- I joked as I kept feeling my heart jumping in my chest.

- "Sorry, I'm just excited 'cos everybody is in for a little gathering tonight at my house. I need to give you a proper welcome! You've already been here for nearly a month, and we still don't get to know much of you."

Hanging out with my coworkers outside the office was strange. Not that I didn't want to get to meet them, it's just that... they were FBI agents. Sure, so was I, but it was my first official Supervisory Special Agent job, and I was only twenty-four. There were so many of my teenage days I still wasn't ready to let go. And so much of it, I didn't want them to know.

- "Sure!"- I replied and smiled at her face lighting up. You could tell Penelope was excited to host a party at her house.

- "Great! Tonight! my place! I'll text you the address! you have to be there!"

- "I will, I swear!"

Spencer's point of view

Oh, man! The first time I actually talked to (Y/N) was on a get-together Penelope organized at her apartment a few weeks after (Y/N) joined the team. Garcia made an effort to make her feel welcome, she even invited Elle, and we all knew those two weren't incredibly close.

Derek drove Elle and me to Penelope's, and I was mortified every minute I spent in that car. He wouldn't stop teasing me, and Elle asked over and over if I had a crush on (Y/N).

- "No! I don't have a crush on her! can you knock it off?!"- I finally snapped as I got off the car outside Garcia's building.

- "Just because she is my age doesn't mean I have or should have a crush on her! she is our new colleague! so please! Stop!"

I slammed the door and walked inside. Did I make an unnecessary scene? Yes, but I couldn't handle anything better at that moment. They were driving me crazy.

- "Welcome! Welcome!"- Penelope opened the door and invited us in. (Y/N), and JJ were already there, holding a beer and laughing. I stared at the two of them and knew I wasn't going to say a word the whole evening.

Back then, I still had a small crush on JJ. We had a terrible date after Gideon gave me tickets for a football game with her favorite team. That was his way to encourage me to ask her out, which I did... but apparently, I sucked at it, 'cos she never got it was a date and invited Penelope to come along. Worst date of my life. But still, I got flustered around her, and my mind kept coming back to her from time to time.

- "So, pretty girl, why did you want to be part of the FBI?"- Morgan asked her after a while of small talk. She was sitting on Garcia's coach, next to our host and JJ. I turned to look at her from my chair, and I swear I felt Elle's eyes on me for a few seconds.

- "Do you usually call girls names?"- (Y/N) answered the questions with another question and frowned at Morgan. He just wide opened his eyes and smiled, surprised.

- "He calls everybody names."- JJ replied, chuckling

- "Hey! he calls me sweet names! Just me!"- Penelope got all jealous and possessive right away.

- "Did you know according to some studies, the reason people in relationships use pet names for their partners is that they're harking back to their own childhood experience and their first love, which usually relates to their mother"- facts came out of my mouth faster than I noticed. I didn't have a chance to stop myself.

Derek frowned right away and (Y/N) bit her lips, trying not to laugh. Elle lost that fight and let out a burst of loud laughter along with JJ.

- "Are you trying to tell me I've got mommy issues, Reid?"

- "No, no, of course not!"- my voice was agitated as I shook my head and hands frenetically. If there's one thing I never want to do is get Morgan mad. He is scary when he is crossed, and back then, we weren't as close as we are now. Let's say I was a little afraid I might say the wrong thing. I always said the wrong thing... I don't know when to stop.

- "I call people pet-names too, once I get to know them, so don't worry"- (Y/N) smiled at turned to Derek with a smile- "And to answer your question, why did I join the FBI? I guess I tried to follow dad's steps. He is chief of police here at Quantico... and my older brother is a detective at NYPD, so... I guess I never really thought about it. I knew where I wanted to be."

- "I bet they are proud"- JJ smiled at her, and I held my breath for a second. I don't know why I did it; I just remember feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. Not because of JJ, but because I wanted to learn more about (Y/N). I wanted to know everything, but I had no idea how to ask her anything.

- "Well, my brother is very jealous since I joined the BAU"- she chuckled with a playful smile- "Now I'm dad's favorite."

She told us about her academy experience, and we all told her a little bit about ourselves. Morgan was nice enough to tell her everything about my degrees and IQ because, well, my IQ dropped to twenty when it was my turn to talk to her.

I found out she has a MA in Linguistics and was considering doing the DA, which she did. That's when I managed to speak, and we talked about our college experiences for a while.

- "Oh, no! I wasn't popular at all. When your dad is a cop, kids usually don't wanna talk to you or invite you to parties."- she explained as we stood at one side of the room. Talking to her on our own was a little bit easier than doing it with everybody else watching. I don't know why. So I took my opportunity when Derek was out getting more beer with Elle, and JJ and Garcia were in the kitchen.

- "Being fourteen and riding my bike to college didn't make me very popular either."- I confessed, and she chuckled

- "Sorry."

- "Don't be"- I smiled and looked down at my shoes- "I guess at a certain point in our lives, we have to start laughing about some of the bad things that happened to us"- her cellphone rang that second, and she looked at the screen with a small smile.

- "Sorry, I have to answer this, it's my boyfriend."

Boyfriend. I should have seen it coming.

I walked to the kitchen, defeated, and sighed. I left my empty can of Coke and looked at my friends.

- "I think I'm gonna go home."

- "What? No! It's too early, Spence!!"- JJ argued right away- "You never want to hang out with us outside work!"

- "Yeah!! Don't you want to have fun with us?"- Garcia begged and pouted. I wasn't sure I wanted to be there. I was very uncomfortable 'cos social gatherings weren't my thing (they are still not my thing anyway) until I heard her voice.

- "So, what are you guys doing?"- (Y/N) walked over and stood next to me

- "Who were you talking to?"- Penelope asked right away with a wink.

- "My boyfriend"- she was joyful, I could feel the happiness in her voice- "He just wanted to know if I was ok."

- "Boyfriend?"- JJ smiled, and I could feel her eyes glance over me.

- "I need to know everything!"- and Penelope hyperventilated right away- "How long have you been dating? Are you getting married soon? Is he the love of your life?"

- "Who's getting married?"- Morgan walked in and wide opened his eyes as he questioned the room.

- "(Y/N) is getting married!!"- Penelope nearly shrieked as (Y/N) shook her head laughing.

- "I'm not getting married! Paul and I started dating just a month ago; it's nothing serious."

I took a sip of the beer Elle gave me and sighed, staring at the bottle. I made my best not to look at Derek for the rest of the night. I didn't want him to give me any sorry glance or anything that might make anyone believe something that wasn't real.

It was a fun night, after all. After my beer, we talked; I felt a little looser and managed to ask (Y/N) about herself and told her I had overheard her telling Garcia she was a sucker for all nerd things.

- "Yeah, I'm a huge nerd"- her cheeks blushed with her confession.

- "I bet you can't beat baby genius here"- Morgan chuckled and tapped in my back, making everybody laugh... at me.

- "I've got the feeling I can top him... you have no idea the kind of geek I am"- she looked straight at me- "How many Star Wars conventions have you been to this year?"

- "Just one, you?"- I raised an eyebrow and watched her chuckle.

- "Five... last two I was in make-up and custom"- I wide opened my eyes as she bit her lips nervously.

- "And Doctor Who conventions?"- I asked her, way more intrigued than I had been about her before.

- "Only two this year, the academy and school got in the way of most of my fun..."

- "Do you have a favorite doctor?"- I had to ask

- "From the new series, ten, the classic Doctor who I have to say four."

- "Tom Baker is by far my favorite doctor of the whole series."

- "But you can't overlook the fantastic job David Tennant has done! He is the one who managed to charm a whole new generation with the show!"

- "Yeah, he is excellent! but he ain't no Baker"- I loved that conversation

- "Baker's popularity is 80% because he had Sara Jane, who is by far one of the best companions the doctor has ever had. She made him human and relatable"- she had a point, but I needed to argue with her. I opened my mouth to answer, but I couldn't because Morgan's voice was louder than my thoughts.

- "Ok, geeks, you can ramble about your tv shows and nerd things some other time, now let's make a toast. To our newest member, we hope you feel welcome working with us, 'cos you are gonna see us way more than you see your boyfriend"- she chuckled at those words and nodded.

- "Thank you, guys. You have been so nice to me these couple of weeks. I've got the feeling we are gonna get along."

.

- "Do you need a ride?"- (Y/N) turned to me as I grabbed my satchel, and she put on her coat.

- "Thanks, but Morgan is gonna take me home."- I whispered, scared to be alone with her again.

- "Actually, kid, I was planning to hit the club right now, it's still early, and we don't get many free nights, so..."- he looked at us and shrugged.

- "You don't mind?"- I asked her, and she gave me the warmest smile.

- "I just offered to do it, of course, I don't mind at all."

- "Thank you."

I didn't know if I wanted to kill Morgan or thank him. Either way, (Y/N) waved goodbye to everybody and walked out of Garcia's with me, after thanking everybody for the hundredth time for everything.

- "Are you tired?"- she asked me as we both sat in her car. She started it, and the music that came from the radio was so loud, I nearly covered my ears- "Sorry! Sorry! I was rocking my favorite album on my way over."

She quickly turned off the radio and gave me a guilty smile

- "It happens when you drive alone a lot."

- "Did you know listening to loud music helps you liberate stress?"- I started rambling- "There is a direct connection between your inner ear and the pleasure centers in the brain. Shortly explained, when you listen to loud music, endorphins are released, that act on the opiate receptors in our brains, they reduce pain and boost pleasure, resulting in a feeling of well-being."

If I was going to work with her, I had to find a way to talk to her. Even if that way was to ramble facts over and over again. Anything was better than silences, I guess.

- "Yeah! and it also works like a stimulant, which I needed after the week we just had..."- I chuckled, and she looked at me for a second- "By the way, I noticed you have a problem with coffee and sugar"

- "I don't have a problem with coffee!"- I felt nearly judged by her statement.

- "And sugar!"- she added and snickered

- "You know you shouldn't profile other profilers"- I made my best to make a joke, and I guess I nailed it, 'cos she chuckled.

- "That's hardly profiling, Reid! that's just watching you prepare your coffee every morning"

- "Have you been spying on me?"- I could help but to chuckle at that conversation. I was having fun.

- "No way on earth! I just happen to like to drink coffee too, which leads us to the question I wanted to ask, it's still early; Morgan was right, do you want to have a coffee or something... I'm in the mood for something sweet."

- "And you were judging me for my coffee with extra sugar!"

- "I'm not judging you! I'm just pointing out that I noticed what you are doing and wondering how many cavities you already have."

I laughed. An honest, real, pure laughter. She has always made me laugh as I've never had. Like there are no problems, no worries, no traumas. Nothing bad.

- "I have no cavities, thank you very much!"

- "Fine! and are you in the mood for a late coffee and cupcake with me?"- I stayed quiet and looked at her- Don't feel pushed to do it just because I'm giving you a drive

- "No, no, it's not that. I just don't wanna bother you"

- "If I am inviting you, Reid, it's because I want to do it, not because I'm feeling forced to do it"- she kept her eyes on the road, but her voice was so reassuring I couldn't doubt a word.

- "Wouldn't your boyfriend get mad or something?"- I whispered the question 'cos I was scared of the answer.

- "Why should he?"- she looked shocked by the questions- "If he gets jealous, then he is not the guy for me."

I cut her a short smile and nodded. Her personality was so different from mine. It was exciting to have her around.

- "I could eat a donut"- and she clapped at my answer, thrilled with the plan.

- "That's the spirit! I know just the place!"

We talked until four in the morning that night. I don't know how I managed to do it, not because I was tired, but because I was very nervous. Well, I was at the beginning, but talking with (Y/N) has always come easy to me, somehow. To the guy who was never able to speak in public or with any girl, spending three hours in a cafeteria talking, eating donuts, and drinking coffee in the middle of the night was the most significant achievement.

.

(Y/N)'s point of view

- "How do you know a place open at this hour?"- Spencer asked me the very first time we were out together for coffee. It was already close to four in the morning, and I had started yawning, 'cos even with all the sugar and caffeine I had consumed that night, I was weary.

- "Sorry to break the news, doctor, but are not the only one with a sugar problem"- I licked a little frosting from my finger and grinned- "Sometimes after classes, or when I was too stressed studying, I would come here, get a coffee, a cupcake and just... do nothing for a while, just to let my brain rest I guess"

- "That makes total sense. The brain needs free time to process new information and turn it into something more permanent. Though the amount of time a mind needs to construct a durable memory probably varies from one person to the next, it also depends on the complexity of what that person is trying to learn"

- "Well, believe me, it felt like I needed two weeks to process all the information, but I only had half an hour if I was lucky"

- "Then you are already trained for this work. We don't have much time to do anything when we are on a case"

- "That's what I've seen so far... but at least you all get along. It would suck to be stuck in a team that fight egos and divisions."

- "Yeah, you are right, we are lucky to have very nice people working with us... everybody brings something different to the team"- I nodded at his words and looked down at my fingers as I tried to wipe the leftover sticky glazed with a napkin.

I had been working there for four weeks already, and I still felt like I didn't belong. Honestly, it was such hard work being there, not because they weren't a great team, but because it was more challenging than I ever imagined. Profiling and traveling all over the nation catching serial killers was... stressing, to say the least.

- "You bring a completely different point of view in every case"- he continued speaking and looked down at his cup- "And your knowledge in Linguistics adds more information to the profiles, which helps working faster and better."

I held my breath at his words. I knew he was just polite, just trying to make me feel better about my job performance these weeks.

- "I can assure you, you have been an incredible addition to the team"- he stayed quiet for a second, still just staring at his cup.

- "Thank you."

- "It's true; I'm not telling you this 'cos I think you need to hear it. I wanted you to know 'cos that's how we all feel."

I know I was blushing. I don't know how to take a compliment. Not that I get many, but it's always weird to hear someone telling you so nice things about your work.

- "Thank you, Spencer"- he finally looked at me and nodded. We stayed in silence for a few minutes. I didn't know what else to say, and he seemed to be embarrassed.

- "Thank you, actually"- he finally whispered.

- "Why? I didn't do anything"- I was confused, but he was earnest about his words.

- "Thank you, 'cos you have been very nice to me, even though I am a barely tolerable person."

- "What? Barely tolerable? What the hell are you saying?"

- "I mean, I know I drive people crazy 'cos I am always rambling and giving unnecessary facts all the time"- I narrowed my eyebrows, not getting why he was saying those things.

- "You do not do that."

- "Maybe you haven't been here long enough to realize I am always giving facts, and..."- he was honest. He actually believed people were annoyed by him. It hurt me to know that's what he thought of himself.

- "I realized that within the first three hours into the job, but I think that's amazing."

- "People would always say it's annoying."

- "Why would they say that?"

- "Because... I know they do."

- "Well, whoever says or thinks that are assholes, I like your rambling."

Reid snorted, and I hit his arm with my knuckles softly. I really felt bad he was so insecure, and most of all, he thought everybody hated him.

- "I mean it, Spencer, I wish I knew half the things you know, and if being with you means having to listen to your rambling, I think it's incredible, 'cos it gives me the chance to soak some of that knowledge."

The way he smiled, it was like his whole face lit up. He blushed, obviously embarrassed, and it also blushed me, 'cos he was gorgeous when he smiled.

- "So please, don't stop the facts, not with me"- he nodded and sipped what was left of his coffee.

After another few minutes, we left, and I drove him home. We were in a small sugar rush; we were too tired to have a full effect. I knew all I wanted was my bed and sleep the whole weekend.

- "I had a great time tonight"- I parked my car outside his building and smiled- "At Penelope's and with you"

I was so excited we had finally talked and gotten closer. I wanted to be friends with him so badly. Why? I don't know. I just knew I needed him in my life, from that minute on.

- "I had a great time too"- he smiled and held his satchel- "See you Monday"

- "Yeah! See ya!"

- "Drive safe!"

- "I will!"

I got home that night and laid on my bed, fully dressed. I barely took off my shoes and fell asleep right away. I was too tired to think, too tired even to put on my pajamas. But I wasn't too tired to remember Spencer's smile while he ate donuts. His dorky glasses, the way he gesticulated everything he said when he was excited about a subject. I was glad I had finally gotten to talk to him for once. And I couldn't wait to do it again.

Back then, Paul and I had just started dating. I wasn't in love with him, but he was a nice, funny guy I loved spending time with. I met Paul a couple of months ago at a friend's party. He was fun to be with, and we had a lot of things in common. We were both into music. He had a band, I didn't back then, but eventually got mine over time. He was like me, nothing like my friends at the BAU.

I thought that was cool, 'cos he represented a part of me I didn't want to lose working at the FBI. I was terrified I was going to lose myself in my new job. I saw how it affected dad's and my brother's life, how they were consumed by it in almost every single way. It was why my parents got divorced. It was why my brother couldn't keep a girlfriend for longer than a few months. 'Cos work was first, and their job was everything. The crazy hours, having to answer every call, no matter how busy you were. I thought it was sick how work could be your whole life. I was decided not to let it happen.

Yeah. I had no idea what I was getting into.

Soon after I joined the BAU, the nightmares began. I guess nothing prepares you to see so many people die. And nothing prepares you to kill someone, no matter if that someone is a child abuser.

I took the shoot, didn't even hesitate. It went right between his eyes. It was him or me, I know that. He was going to kill me. But still, it was hard.

Derek turned to me as I stayed still, in shock. It took me a few seconds to even breathe. I had just killed a person. It wasn't just some random thing.

- "(Y/N), are you ok?"- he landed a hand on my shoulder, and I quickly nodded.

- "Yeah, I'm ok... that was fast"- it was all I could say and turned to him. He gave me a short warm smile and wrapped an arm around me. I flinched at his touch right away and held my breath again. I don't know if he felt it, but still, he didn't let me go.

Derek has that thing when he doesn't care if you want it or no; he will give you his love and friendship when he feels you deserve it. I guess I'm lucky to call him my friend. And he really pushed that hug thing I still have.

- "Are you ok?- Spencer's voice was a sweet whisper. He sat carefully next to me in the jet and gave me a warm cup of tea- "I made you the one you like"

Of course, he had noticed my favorite brand, 'cos that's what Spencer does, he takes mental notes of everything and never, ever forgets. I wonder if that's a good thing or not. I guess it depends on what you remember.

- "Yeah, just tired"- working at the BAU, you can hide any kind of feeling behind the "I'm so tired" excuse. Mostly because we are indeed tired the whole time.

- "It was an extreme case"- I sipped my cup of tea and nodded at his words- "Do you..."

- "No, I'm ok, I don't wanna talk about it"- he bit his lips as he smiled. We both stayed quiet for a while. He read (somehow, at a relative normal peace), and I drank my tea. I couldn't concentrate on anything, so I just looked outside and tried not to think about the unsub's face and how he looked when I killed him.

- "How was your first time?"- I finally asked him, and I think my question caught him by surprise, 'cos he nearly jumped on his seat- "Not your first time in the sack, the first time you had to..."

- "No, I got it, I got it"- he was already blushing, it was adorable- "My first time was actually the first time you drove me home"

- "Really?"

- "Yeah"- he made a pause and gathered his thoughts, I guess- "I didn't really go out to the field a lot before 'cos I didn't have my firearm qualification"

And suddenly I remembered how embarrassed he was about it on my first day at the BAU. Derek made sure everybody knew about it 'cos he thought it was hilarious. And I thought he was a jerk for making fun of him.

- "And did it affect you?"- it was a stupid question. I knew Spencer was a sensitive person; of course, killing someone was going to affect him in many ways- "I mean, how did it affect you?"

- "I couldn't feel anything at first"

- "Shock?"- he nodded and sighed- "Gideon said that maybe I didn't know what I felt and that's why I thought I didn't feel a thing, but that wasn't it, it was like I was numbed inside... but then when it hits you"- he murmured- "And you can't stop thinking about it"

- "I think it hit me sooner than I thought"- I closed my eyes and sighed, but even then, I could feel those empty dead eyes staring at me.

- "Wanna know what helped me?"- Spencer's voice was velvety and soothing. It felt relaxing talking to him.

- "What?"- I whispered and turned to look at him

- "Remember two things: you did what you had to do"- I sighed at that with a small smile. It didn't sound like something I could believe at that moment.

- "And the second?"

- "A lot of kids are alive and safe because of you"

Now, that made me feel a lot better. Reid was right. I did what I had to do to help people. That guy wasn't going to stop.

- "Thanks"- I managed to give him a slight smile, and he did the same.

- "I'm here to talk if you want to"

It felt like he was really making an effort to say those words. I didn't know why it was still so hard for him to talk to me. Maybe it was still a sensitive subject for him, so I did what I do best: I joked about it.

- "Thank you... I'll try to avoid the issue as much as I can, but when I collapse under the pressure, I promise I'll come to you"- he chuckled at my answer and nodded right away.

- "Great plan."

And a few days later, I couldn't sleep anymore. I kept waking up to those eyes. I kept feeling guilty for killing a child abuser who was trying to kill me. I relived in my mind that moment over and over again.

- "Babe, come back to bed"- Paul found me sitting by the kitchen island staring at a herbal teacup at two am. It was my third insomnia night.

- "Yeah, I'll be right there"- he turned to walk back to the room but hesitated and looked at me again.

- "Do you want to talk about it?"- I shook my head, still not taking my eyes from the cup. He slowly walked to me and held my hand - "Come on, babe, everything looks worse at two am."

And he was right. Everything seemed to be worse when it came to my mind in the middle of the night. But it didn't get any better during the day either. He cuddled with me in my bed and fell asleep soon after. I just stayed there, feeling his chest moving softly with his soft breathing, thinking I had killed someone, and it wasn't going to be the last time I was going to face something like this.

.

Spencer's point of you

Do you want to know something sad? I was excited we had an unsub in New York 'cos I had never been there. Back then, I didn't know my colleagues were going to tease me about it. I didn't give it too much thought. I honestly wasn't good at leaving my house when we weren't in a case. Most of my traveling had been due to work, and other than La Vegas and Pasadena, I hadn't been to many cities just to sightsee.

Why am I thinking about that right now? 'cos we were in New York the day (Y/N) gave me her first gift.

Everybody had made fun of me during dinner because I didn't know how to eat with chopsticks. JJ tried to teach me, which also caused hours of Morgan's teasing for the rest of the trip. Thankfully, they dropped the jokes when we went back to the police station to take one last look at the profile after we got a call out unsub had killed a cop this time.

But after two hours of thinking, neither of us was honestly able to give any new idea to the case. Hotch insisted we head back to the hotel to have some rest. (Y/N) was one of the last ones to leave, along with Gideon and me.

- "Stop looking at the board"- she said, standing by my side, bag in hand- "Let's go. Your big brain needs to rest."

- "I won't be able to sleep knowing I'm missing something"- I answered, not taking my eyes from the board

- "Come on"- (Y/N) playfully hit my arm- "You need your eight hours of sleep to be a fully functional genius"

- "You should try to get a full night's sleep as well"- I turned to her and watched her eyes widen- "What? Do you think I didn't notice you haven't been sleeping?"

- "No, but I thought you were going to wait until I had a mental breakdown to force me to talk about it; that was the plan, right?"

I tried not to laugh, but it was hard; she is so funny, though I knew that was a sensitive subject, it had been weeks since the incident, and it was clear (Y/N) wasn't processing everything right. If anything, her jokes were a coping mechanism to avoid talking or even thinking about what had happened.

- "We can also talk about it, just... talk"

- "I know what happens with me, Reid"- she whispered and looked around. Gideon was outside, no way near us, but still, she kept her voice low. It made me see she was scared he would hear her, 'cos she didn't want him to think she was weak.

- "I guess I just have to make peace with it. It was gonna happen, and it will happen again, it's my job, it's part of what I do, end of it."

I looked at her and nodded in silence. There was so much I wanted to tell her, but I couldn't shake the thought she was going to laugh at me.

- "Do you want to?"- I made a pause and took a deep breath. Yes, I was very nervous- "Do you want to walk back to the hotel? it's just a few blocks and maybe... fresh air can help you relax?"

I didn't mean to hesitate so much, but it was scary for me to ask her to spend time on our own. I don't know why. It wasn't just with her; it happened with everybody at that point in my life. I was sure no one wanted to spend time with me. Why would they?

- "Can we have a midnight cupcake?"- she asked and smiled. I bit my lips and pretended to give the idea a lot of thinking, though I was craving donuts ever since we didn't have time for dessert at dinner.

- "Just one, and no coffee"

- "What are you? The sleeping police?"- she teased me and led the way. We waved at Gideon and walked outside the police station.

For a rainy night, it was freezing. But I didn't care much. I was too busy looking around, it was technically my first night out in New York, and though I was just leaving work and walking back to the hotel, it was the biggest adventure I have had there so far.

For the first couple of minutes, we walked in silence. (Y/N) looked at her feet, hands stuffed in her pocket as I walked next to her, holding my umbrella for the two of us. I tried to take in everything that was going on around us. It was exciting, being there, alone. I was a twenty-four-year-old Supervisory Special Agent of the FBI, and I was excited to walk with a friend in the New York city streets. No wonder why Morgan called me "kid."

- "Did you know more than 800 languages are spoken in New York City? that makes it the most linguistically diverse city in the world"- I had to start rambling facts after a while because I guess I couldn't help it.

- "Vraiment?"- she answered, and I chuckled. Of course, Master in Linguistics.

- "Oui"- I thought we could have a whole conversation in french; it would have been fun and fascinating, but my French was very rusty, and I didn't know if she was fluent or just learned a few things.

- "When I was a kid, I dreamt about living in New York. I was obsessed with it"- she kept looking down at her feet as she spoke, and I turned to look at her for a second. She looked sad somehow, or that's what I read from her. I've always done my best not to profile profilers. It's harder than you imagine.

- "Why?"- she chuckled at her thoughts and kept her eyes on her shoes.

- "You know how they always make you feel no matter how weird you might be, you are still going to fit in New York?"

- "You are not weird"- I couldn't help but frown and look at her- "You are..."

- "I am weird, we are all weird, that's what makes us great"

I loved that thought. That's why I've never forgotten it. Lie, I can't forget. I remember everything we've said to each other because I want to, not because I have an eidetic memory.

- "But when you are in school, everybody is trying to fit it and be normal, and that wasn't me at all..."

I didn't see that coming, and I have to admit it, I loved it. I often felt I was an outsider at the BAU. Hotch, Gideon, Morgan, Elle, JJ, they all fit in everywhere we'd go. Meanwhile, everybody looked at me, wondering what the hell am I doing there. I could read it on their faces. The fact the team had to introduce me as "Doctor Spencer Reid" is a sign they are making an effort to make me look older and more experienced. Reliable, even.

- "Why would you say you are weird?"- I had to ask- "You look very normal to me, I mean it"- she raised an eyebrow and didn't say a word. She just pulled my jacket and dragged me to a coffee shop.

- "Cupcakes, Reid, you can't expect me to tell you embarrassing facts about my life without a cup of coffee and a mountain of sugar."

JJ always said I ate like a kid, too many pastries and candy, no salad. Meanwhile, (Y/N) kept pushing sugar into my body. I liked that. They were both so different. JJ treated me like I didn't know how to deal with life. (Y/N) treated me like I could help her deal with life. JJ wanted to help me grow up. I could feel (Y/N) wanted to be my friend, and I loved that. I had never felt someone longing for my company. It was always the opposite. I usually felt people were stuck with me.

For months I kept comparing the two of them in my head. JJ had such condescending manners, it sometimes made me think she might actually have feelings for me. Other times, Morgan would call her my mom, which took all the hopes from my mind.

- "What do you do in your free time, Reid?"- (Y/N) sat in front of me in a booth. Right in between us, a table with two coffees, a red velvet cupcake, and a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles.

- "I read, study..."- I didn't give much thought to my answers- "I also write a letter to my mom every day"

- "That's so cute"- I felt how my cheeks turned blood red, and she smiled at me sweetly.

- "Thanks..."- I sipped my hot cappuccino and winced as the coffee burned my tongue, and she chuckled.

- "Slowly, doc, or are you in a hurry?"

- "Definitely not, I have no other plan, I mean, I could sleep, but I know I won't, and, and I know you won't sleep either, so"- the words left my mouth at such a fast pace, not even I got them all. (Y/N) nodded and started taking apart her cupcake, little by little.

- "That's awesome, 'cos I like hanging out with you, and I don't feel like hanging out with Elle tonight. We are sharing rooms."

- "You don't like her?"- now that was breaking news- "I thought you two got along"

- "Don't get me wrong, I like her. I just don't feel like being the version of myself I am when I'm with her"

I looked at her, not sure of where she was going. She took a piece of cake and ate it slowly.

- "You lost me"- (Y/N) sighed and ran a finger around the edge of her cup.

- "Are you really you the whole time when you are at work, Reid?"

- "Well, yes?"- I wasn't sure that was the answer she wanted, but it was the only one I had- "I don't know how to be anybody else"

That was the whole truth. That's still the truth. Maybe that's why I have never been popular. People say I have no empathy, that I can't read any social cues. If I knew how to be someone else, I would probably try to change that and be a Spencer that's entirely sympathetic and social, like everybody else. But I can't force myself to act differently.

She stared at me, and I could feel the frustration piling behind her small smile.

- "Do you want to know something weird?"- her eyes shone as she stared into mines asking the question

- "Always"

- "You are the only person at the BAU I feel I can be myself with"- she whispered and sipped her coffee again.

- "Thanks?"- I was confused- "But... you are not that different with me than you are with the rest of the team"

- "Well, I am... I don't share who I really am at work because I am afraid"

- "Why? What scares you?"- she sighed and laid back on the seat. I kept my eyes fixated on her until she furrowed her brows, staring back at me

- "Are you trying to profile me, Spencer? 'cos we are not supposed to profile each other. I'm pretty sure it was in the contract I signed"- I smiled, busted, and nodded.

- "If it makes you feel any better, you are hard to read"

- "I'm a good liar, don't tell anyone"

She was proud of her answer, and I guess she should have been. You have to be an excellent liar to catch unsubs, get in their head, play with them when you have to make them talk. I guess she was ahead of me in that area.

- "Well, If it makes you feel better, I feel more comfortable around you than most of the team"

I closed my eyes as I spoke, and I knew my voice had been so low and soft, it hadn't been surprising if she hadn't been able to hear me, but she did.

- "Is it because I don't like touching people either?"- she joked, and a small smile stretched across my lips

- "It is because you"- I stopped and rearranged my thoughts. You could tell she was eager to hear the rest of my answer, and I was making sure not to make a fool out of myself.

- "It's because it feels you don't judge me for being me"

- "That's exactly how I feel, Spencer"- her smile was so big it made mine grow bigger as well.

- "But, why can't you be you with everybody?"- (Y/N) took a big bite of her cupcake, feeling more confident about our conversation and nodding.

- "Mmm, this is so damn good, you should try it, Reid"

- "Answer the question, (Y/N)"- I ignored her random comment and asked again- "Why can't you just be you?"

- "There are two answers to that question, and both of them are real"- she finally confessed and bit her lips, playing again with a little piece of cake on the dish.

- "I'm waiting"

- "You know, for someone who said has all the night off, you are indeed in a hurry now!"- she snickered and stuck out her tongue at me.

- "Fine, here's the truth: I don't want to share my whole real me at work because I am scared people will judge me and think I'm weird and too immature for the job, but at the same time, and this is the second reason, I don't wanna show my whole me at work 'cos I am afraid I'll lose it along the way, I am worried the FBI will take that weird part of me and will turn me into an SSA."

- "You are an S.S.A., (Y/N)"

- "I know, but I'm afraid I might end up being an ASS, Reid"

Her joke made me laugh so hard, tears fell down my cheeks. And she looked pleased to see me laughing.

- "See? That's me, the girl telling weird jokes the whole time 'cos can't stand a serious "grown-up" conversation. Can you imagine this (Y/N) talking with Hotch? Seriously, Reid, can you imagine?"

- "No, I can't"- I shook my head, still chuckling, and took a bit of my donut- "But I would definitely love to."

- "Do you want to know what I do in my free time?"- my mouth was still full, so I just nodded, feeling a little guilty I hadn't asked about her when she had asked about my hobbies.

- "I ride my longboard and play bass, do you think an SAA should be doing that? Do you think Elle does it? JJ? they are the perfect fit for the role. I am that kid at the back of the class who got a stroke of luck and managed to hang out with the cool kids"

- "Am I one of the cool kids?"- I had to ask

- "Yes, Reid, why?"

- "I've never been one of the cool kids before"- she gave me a severe look and sipped her coffee.

- "Here I am, pouring my heart and soul out for you, and all you care about is being one of the popular kids. That's being a lousy friend, Reid."

She was joking, and we both chuckled, but my chest tightened at her words, and the smile on my lips grew wider. She called me her friend for the first time that night.

- "I think you are overthinking this whole thing, (Y/N)"- she sighed at my words and finished her coffee- "We are all weird, you said it yourself"

- "Some on us more than other"

- "Yes, but that's what makes us great and unique. I told you, your vision brings a whole new point of view to the profiles, and I know what it's like to feel insecure people will judge you for being too young"

- "I know, that's why I'm glad you are here"

I am sure I was blushing, and I am absolutely certain she noticed because I heard her giggle as I looked down at my empty dish and fidgeted with my cup.

- "And... are"- I stuttered and narrowed my eyes. I knew I had to stop being so nervous around her; she was my friend, she had said it herself- "Are you ready to talk about your nightmares?"

- "Are you profiling I have nightmares?"- she raised an eyebrow and questioned my question

- "I am staring at the back rings under your eyes. It's clear you haven't been sleeping and considering we both know you went through a traumatic incident, to call it that way, you are clearly going through night terrors or nightmares"

- "Did you go through the same?"

- "Yes, I did"

- "And how did you overcome it?"

- "I haven't. I just made my peace with it"- you could read the deception on her face. That wasn't the answer she was waiting for.

- "They will be more sporadically, I promise, (Y/N)"

- "That's what's scares me too"

- "What?"

- "That one day I won't have the nightmares 'cos I'll be used to seeing the darkness and horror around me."

When we left the cafeteria, it was two in the morning, and the night was freezing. It was no longer raining, and the cold wind could freeze your skin in a second. (Y/N) looked at me as I shivered and opened her bag.

- "Here, put this on"- it was a purple scarf.

- "Thank you"- I was so cold I didn't hesitate. The wool was warm, soft, and it smelled like her- "It's pretty"- I felt I had to compliment it, 'cos she was too nice with me.

- "I made it myself"- you could tell she was proud. I tightened it around my neck and continued our way back to the hotel.

I hadn't felt I could count on someone at the FBI as I did with her. She wouldn't think I'm a kid; she wouldn't be forced to hang out with me. It felt pretty good to have a friend again. Ethan had been the last one I had lost. I always lose the people I love.

- "Thank you"- we were standing outside (Y/N)'s room back at the hotel. I took off the scarf and tried to give it back to her, but she didn't let me.

- "Keep, it's a present for being my first and best BAU friend"- I felt profoundly flattered, and I'm pretty sure I giggled, blushing- "Besides, purple looks good on you"

- "It's my favorite color"- I confessed- "And I'm not saying it just to make you feel good"

- "Then you have to keep it. It was made for you even when I didn't know it"- she smiled one more time and opened the door- "Good night, Reid."

- "Good night, (Y/N)."

----------

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Chapter two

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[titan-fodder]

Find a Way Chapter 6

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Rating: M (mature; mdni)

Count: ~7.4k

Tags/Warnings: alcohol, ruthless teasing, daddy, awkward interactions, Erwin (is his own warning), general shyness and vulnerability

A/N: buckle up, it’s about to get heated. thanks for waiting, and don’t worry; there’s still much more to come. enjoy~

It feels like headway is being made in terms of spending time outside of the sandwich shop and bar you work at, but Miche can't help but think these are still the settings in which he gets to know you best, either having the excuse to fire questions back and forth or able to watch you work and interact with the people at Marley’s.

Tonight finds the two of you at the bar once again, only it’s a little different than usual. For one, you’re not actually on the schedule, free to mill about the establishment as you please. Two, you are free to drink. Quite literally. 

Reiner (Miche is pretty sure now that's his name) makes you whatever you want whenever you want it, and Miche has to hand it to you, you pace yourself better than most twenty-somethings (definitely better than he ever did). You down water between mixed drinks, eat a little bit here and there, and even turn down some of the shots customers offer to buy you. 

That doesn't mean you're sober, though. Miche is willing to bet you're at least tipsy as you lean over the bartop, saying something to your co-worker, the tall brunet—Bert?—that makes him splutter and quickly turn away. 

Reiner slides you another drink, you blow him a kiss, and then you make your way back over to the little table Miche secured some time ago, straw between your lips, eyes locked on his the entire time it takes you to get from the counter to your chair. 

You're a little off tonight, though not in a bad way. It's your attitude, your energy. Miche is used to your teasing and overall playful nature, but tonight, your eyes are brighter and your tongue is looser. 

"Love those dudes so much," you announce, glancing over your shoulder at your coworkers, Bert dancing back and forth as Reiner tries to swat him with his towel. 

"Yeah, they seem nice," Miche comments. 

He isn't especially familiar with any of your friends, but what he knows of them, he appreciates. Reiner and his boyfriend watch out for your safety, and Bert and Annie pick up your shifts when you're too drained from school. They all seem like a good support system which is necessary for someone with an extraordinary amount of pressure sitting on their shoulders. Miche wouldn't have made it through med school if it weren't for Erwin, Nile, and Hange, would have probably flunked out first semester if he's being honest. 

"One day you'll meet everyone else," you tell him. "I want you to meet everyone else—Sasha and Hitch and Jean and Marco. The whole crew."

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do if they don't like me?" He's kidding, fairly confident in his ability to charm a group of students, but he's still curious about your answer. 

You make a noise that sounds a lot like blowing raspberries, waving a hand as you do. "Impossible. You're very likeable, Miche. Too likeable, I daresay."

"That so?"

"Mhmmm. I mean, I like you, and I think I'm a pretty good judge of character. Most of the time."

He chuckles, not much else he can do. "I'm glad to hear it." 

You rest your cheek in your hand, searching for the straw underneath your mouth and having just enough trouble finding it to make Miche snort into his soda. After pouting for a couple seconds, though, you move on. 

"Tell me about your day."

He takes a sip from his glass then leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. 

"Nothing too interesting, just consults all day. Expectant mothers and a couple newborn checkups."

You hum, blinking slowly from across the table, and Miche has a feeling you want him to elaborate. 

"One of the babies that came in today has a cleft palate, so we ended up scheduling his surgery."

"Oh, good!" 

"Yeah, he's already a handsome little guy, but getting it repaired early on will lessen the likelihood of a big scar."

"He'll appreciate that when he's older."

You tell him about Jean wanting to specialize in plastic surgery, so, "He'll probably do a lot of those. That and boob jobs."

"Oh, most definitely. That's what Nile wanted to go into, but it was for all the wrong reasons." Miche has to laugh again. "It's a good thing he went into teaching instead. I have no doubt he'd have at least one malpractice suit lodged against him by now. At least."

Your face twists into a sour expression as you realize just what Miche is insinuating. 

"Okay, ew. Did not wanna know that about my fucking professor, so thanks."

"I'm just saying. He can be a smarmy guy. He's probably stared at your—"

He stops himself right there, alarmed that he let himself even start that thought. Implying Nile has looked at your chest indirectly implies that Miche has too, and he can't have that, can't have you thinking he's some kind of pervert checking you out all the time. He has before—of course he has—but that doesn't mean he wants you to know about it because he's already ashamed as it is, and—

"Miche."

His wide eyes refocus to find you still sipping your drink, looking at him in question. 

"You okay there? Look like you're about to stroke out or something."

"I'm fine. Just—"

"Thinkin' about my boobs?" 

He nearly falls out of his chair, having to lean forward again and plant both feet on the ground, suddenly lightheaded as all his blood gathers in his cheeks rather than doing its job and oxygenating his whole body. 

"Christ, no."

"I mean, they're nice boobs, it's okay," you giggle, glancing down at your own chest, covered by a tight little t-shirt, and fuck, now you're making him look. "I'm pretty fond of them myself, so like, can't really blame you."

Dragging a hand down his face, Miche tells you plainly, "You're killin' me here." 

Sticking your tongue out between your teeth, you wink, then polish off your glass and stand up. 

He assumes you'll wander back to the bar, order another fruity cocktail or maybe a water. 

But no. You round the table, fingers gliding over the laminated wood as you go, and all Miche can do is watch until you stop right next to him and seat yourself right in his fucking lap. 

His jaw drops, breath catching in his throat, and fuck, your hands are on his shoulders, and you're licking your lips, and uttering just loud enough to hear, "So, I've been meaning to talk to you about somethin' these past couple days?" 

Miche's voice cracks when he replies, "What is it?" like he's suddenly going through puberty again. He doesn't quite know what to do with his arms and legs, scared that if he resituates himself in his chair, it'll cause you to rub against him, and that'll just be too much for him to handle right now. 

Years ago, something like this wouldn't have fazed him much. He's had girlfriends, had flings, got used to women hitting on him in college which is good because now he knows how to keep a straight face when they do it in the workplace. 

But, something about you, all flirty and bold, it's making Miche feel things he hasn't in a long time. 

Then again, that's really how this all started, you sparking something inside of him that very first night and then stoking tiny flames when he had run into you again here. 

So far, it's all been about remembering what it's like to develop feelings—real feelings—for someone, getting used to that fluttery sensation in his stomach and not being able to keep from smiling when he sees your name on his phone. That's what he's been focused on.  

But right now, in this moment, he's trying very hard to focus on what is happening in his pants. Trying to keep it from happening. 

"Mhm," you nod, your fingers sliding to the back of his neck and stroking just under his hairline. 

If you're not careful… 

No. No. He is an adult. He can handle this. He's not some little college boy with no self control. 

Taking a deep breath, Miche sets his jaw. He does give himself the grace to set his hands on your hips, but once there, he doesn't move them, not so much as a twitch that could be construed as sensual. 

"Go on, then."

So close to him, he can see the way your eyelashes fan over your cheeks every time you blink, how your lips part and your nostrils flare ever so slightly. 

"So, um," you swallow, and for the first time tonight, the boldness fades quickly into shyness. "You've been great these last few months. Like, incredible. In so many different ways, and um…"

Miche waits patiently, not wanting to interrupt and ruin whatever little speech your beautiful, intoxicated brain has stewing in it. 

"Well, you know, you've been helping so much—buying me things and helping me study, keeping me fed," you emphasize the last part, and Miche has to laugh. 

"Couldn't just let you starve."

"No, I know, I know, just um…" You shift in his lap, getting impossibly closer, almost conspiratorial, and it has Miche biting back a groan. "Anyway, what I'm tryin' to say is that it's all kinda one-sided, don't ya' think?"

Frowning, Miche begins to shake his head, but the fingertips pressing into the back of his neck stop him. 

"I wanna make it up to you somehow."

He has a pretty good idea of where this is going, and the thought alone makes his entire body heat up, but—

"You don't have to do anything," he sighs. "Just keep studying and pass your classes, and I'll be happy."

The noise of dissatisfaction that's pushed from your throat is adorable, but Miche knows better than to say so. 

"Okay, but maybe I'm not happy," you pout. "Maybe I wanna change our arrangement."

"Arrangement, huh?"

"Is'at not what it is? Some unspoken agreement to let you take care of me?"

Mouth starting to run dry, Miche does his best to shrug, his grip on your waist tightening against his will. 

"If that's what you want to call it—"

"I don't know what else to call it. Unless—" You're eyes flash, and Miche's stomach sinks and flips at the same time because that look, the way your lips are curling, you're about to do or say something that's going to unravel him. 

"Unless what?" 

Your sing-song giggle sounds anything but innocent, and Miche finds out why when you lean in closer to talk into his ear, secretive and sultry when you finish, "Unless you want me to start telling people you're my sugar daddy."

There's no tickle in his throat, but Miche still finds himself coughing, lungs tight, pants tighter, and he knows you can see his blush. Fuck, you can probably feel the warmth radiating from him. 

"Is'at what you want me to call you?" You tease, tacking on another, "Daddy?" and this time Miche does groan, aroused and surprised by it because that's never been a thing for him, but coming from you, doe-eyed and devious, the weight of you in his lap, the press of you against his body…

It seems he's discovered something new about himself tonight. 

He is a grown man, though. He recognizes what's happening, can acknowledge the fact that his control is slipping, and knows he needs to remedy that. Quickly. 

Red faced and undeniably hard at this point, Miche sighs. It's still difficult to get his thoughts straight, but as he takes in your face, the hopeful look on it, the desperation to please, he knows what he has to do.

"You're drunk."

Leaning back, your hands fall lightly to his collarbones, and Miche thinks he sees a little bit of the heady fog in your gaze evaporate. 

"I'm… flattered," he continues. "And, I don't want you to take this as a—a rejection, but I can't in good conscience let you make this offer and let myself enjoy—" he vaguely gesticulates at your body and his, "—this, enjoy you, while knowing you're not sober."

"But…"

Miche smiles, takes your face in his hands and brings it forward so that he can brush his lips over your forehead. 

"How about we just revisit the conversation when you're not five drinks in, okay?"

Your chest heaves with a deep breath, and for a moment, he thinks you're going to try to argue with him, but all you do is nod and fall forward, resting your face in the crook of his neck and giving him goosebumps. 

"Hey, Miche?" You mumble, and he can feel all three syllables against his skin. 

"Hm?" 

"Can we go back to your loft?"

It makes him pause for a second, Miche wondering if you're deciding to ignore everything he's just said to you, but he understands once you elaborate.

"Wanna sleep in your bed again."

He chuckles, rubbing your back. "Yeah, sure."

"Thanks," you sigh against him. "Daddy."

Miche's head falls to your shoulder, nothing left to defend himself other than an exasperated, "Fucking tease," that makes you laugh. 

~

There's a weight spanning the length of your back, warm but not overwhelming. Still, it makes you stiffen, eyes suddenly wide open until you realize where you are—green blankets, brick walls, sun shining through the window—and recognize the weight over you as a very large dog. 

 Minnie. 

 A rustling further up makes you turn your head and, to your surprise, you find Remy curled up on one of Miche’s pillows, yawning and blinking dark sleepy eyes at you.

 “And, just where did you come from?” You ask like he can reply.

 Miche must have gone and picked him up which is just… so, incredibly heartwarming, even if it does mean he was in your apartment without you there. The fact that he not only thought of your little boy but put forth the effort to go get him—he’s just so good, taking care of Remy and taking care of you—

 Sitting upright, you swear under your breath, everything from the night before rushing back, some good, most bad, and Jesus Christ, why couldn’t you have gotten drunk enough to have just blacked out? At least then if you’d made a fool of yourself, you wouldn’t be able to recall any of it. 

 Pressing your palms against your eyes, you try to steady your breathing, not that it works.

 You came onto him. Strongly. You—oh, god, you called him daddy, what in the actual fuck is wrong with you?

 The pressure in your chest feels like it could be either a laugh or a sob, little pinpricks of heat dancing up your neck as you experience the embarrassment you apparently failed to the night before.

 How are you supposed to face him? How are you supposed to look him in the eye? There’s no question; you have to find a way because you need to fucking apologize after putting him in such an awkward position. You can’t even begin to imagine what must have been going through his head, how desperate you must have looked.

 If you could just go back in time, shake yourself out of it, tell yourself, ‘hm, maybe getting drunk around this guy you have a massive crush on isn’t the best idea’.

 Too late now.

Falling back into the bedding, you stare at the ceiling as you sift through the memories, how nice Miche had been about it, gentle even as he turned you down, probably feeling sorry for you. 

 He did say you could revisit the conversation, you muse, but you don’t think you have the lady balls for that, hence being drunk while bringing it up in the first place. 

 And again, your mind supplies another argument. Miche wasn’t exactly unaffected by what you had to say, or maybe it was how you said it, in his lap, speaking in his ear. If you think about it enough, you can still remember the heat that coursed through you when you felt his cock grow hard beneath you.

 A natural bodily reaction. Of course he’d get aroused. The problem here is that he didn’t want to be, just wanted to hang out and talk, and you just had to go and throw yourself at him. 

 You go back and forth like this for a while, the dogs trying to snooze but obviously unable to as you keep them awake with all the nervous energy pouring from you, and when you hear the door open and close downstairs, your stomach sinks even further.

 Voices carry upward, one you easily recognize as Miche’s, the other unfamiliar. It’s deep, rich with a sort of refined accent, sounds like someone who spent much of their life in country clubs or something of the like. It’s obviously one of Miche’s friends. The question is which one. Also, if they’re going to leave soon or if you’re gonna have to meet them right in the middle of your existential crisis. 

 A loud laugh rings out, startling both you and the dogs, and you hear Miche shush whoever it is through his own chuckle, “Dude, quiet, she’s still sleeping.”

 With a deep sigh, you throw an arm over your face then call out a muffled, “No’m not.”

 “Oh,” Miche hums, then, “Sorry.”

 After a three second pep talk (come on, you can do this, get up and do this, you got this), you swing your legs over the side of the bed, noting your attire—plaid boxers and a large orange t-shirt, the image of what you’re pretty sure is a wizard faded almost beyond real recognition. You can barely make out the upside down lettering underneath—Dungeons & Dragons—but once translated, you shake your head. Fucking nerd.

 For a while, you just sit at the edge of the bed, contemplating if it’s even worth changing to go downstairs. Miche has probably filled in whoever it is down there with him, so their expectations of you can’t be that high, but at the very least, you should tame your hair and brush your teeth. At the very least. 

 The ensuite bathroom is open, and when you turn the light on and glance at the counter, you break into a grin at the sight of your own hairbrush, toothbrush, deodorant, and perfume. He didn’t just grab Remy from your apartment, it seems. Everything here in front of you was in plain view of anyone who peeked into your bathroom, and boy, are you glad Miche did. 

 After making yourself somewhat presentable, you change back into your shorts from the night before but refuse to ditch the insanely comfortable, insanely geeky shirt, and pad down the staircase, Remy and Minnie hot on your heels. 

 They’re on the couch, two heads swiveling toward you and making you stop in your tracks. Miche grins immediately, something you do not understand because he really should be upset with you, definitely should not be caring for you as he apparently has been over the course of the night. 

 A couple cushions over, a man you do, in fact, recognize stands up and makes his way over to you. Golden hair, deep blue eyes, perfect smile. Yeah, you’ve seen pictures of this one. 

 “Hello, I’m—”

 “Erwin,” you finish with a nod, holding your hand out. “Miche’s told me about you some.”

 “All good things, I hope,” he says, that smile only widening. 

 It truly has been all good things, even the silly stories from med school and intern year. Apparently, Erwin used to be a lampshade drunk, and knowing that makes him slightly less intimidating as you shake his hand. 

 Because he's still impressive, a cardiothoracic surgeon, if you're not mistaken, and you—you are a baby in comparison. 

 "Not a bad bone in your body, the way he talks about you," you say, causing both Erwin and Miche to chuckle. 

 After a short introduction of your own, you let your eyes flick to the couch where Miche is sitting, Remy in his lap now, enjoying the fingers scratching behind his floppy ears. 

 "Hey, thanks for getting him last night. I didn't even hear you."

 "Yeah, probably 'cause you were dead to the world as soon as you laid down."

 A good thing, you think. Being asleep means you weren't able to humiliate yourself any more than you already had. Being asleep means being safe. In this instance, anyway. 

 “Was I snoring?” 

 Miche smirks. “You really want me to answer that?”

 You pinch the bridge of your nose, remind yourself that snoring is still better than humping his god damn leg, then shuffle into the kitchen for a glass of water. It takes you a second to find the right cabinet, and when you do, you have to stand on your tiptoes to actually reach a cup, but you manage to retrieve one.

 “Tylenol is in the cabinet over the stove and to the right,” Miche calls out.

 “I’m not hungover,” you laugh, pacing back out to join the two men. “Just thirsty.”

 Erwin mumbles something suspiciously close to, “I bet you are,” but you’re okay with brushing it off, surely your ears deceive you. Miche, however, decides to kick his friend hard in the shin, only confirming the fact that yes—yes, that is exactly what just came out of this near stranger’s mouth, and yes, he meant it exactly the way you’re taking it. 

 You’re not gonna falter, though, not gonna let it get to you. Channel the bad bitch. Be the bad bitch. Don’t let him scare you away.

 Locking eyes with Erwin, you remain straight faced as you take a long sip from your cup, letting out a satisfied, “Ah,” once you swallow. You won’t be the first to break, won’t be the first to look away, don’t even want to blink until Erwin finally starts laughing. 

 Turning to look at Miche, he mumbles something much quieter this time, making the other scoff before Miche levels his gaze at you, green and bright and just barely shining with something like irritation.

 “Please just ignore him.”

 Erwin snorts. “Good luck trying.”

 “Yeah, I don’t think that’s—Anyway, um, you guys look like you’re about to do something or… something—”

 “Game’s coming on in a little bit,” Miche supplies. 

 “Okay yeah, so I can just, like, get outta your hair.” Please, please let me get out of your hair. You are more than ready to disappear, only able to keep up the tough girl facade for maybe two minutes max.  

 Miche pushes himself off the couch after depositing Remy into Erwin’s lap, taking one long stride over to you, and you can’t stop yourself from leaning back just a little because he’s so tall and so gorgeous as he tilts his head down to look at you—you cannot believe you did what you did last night, your inner monologue turning to utter nonsense the longer you stare at him. 

 “Okay, so I can definitely drop you back off if you want,” he opens, and when his hands land on your shoulders, you gaze up at him in what just might be awe, fixating on the way his lips pull up on one side. Then, he’s turning you around and leading you closer to the front door where you see your backpack carefully perched on a low shelf. “Or, you can stay here for a while longer and let Erwin and me bother you until you can’t stand it anymore.”

 “Fuck, what all did you grab from my apartment?” You laugh, focusing on that, otherwise you might scream because he is so cute, how can he be so fucking cute?

 “Just what I thought you might need to spend the day here.”

 You click your tongue, thinking for a moment. You don’t have class due to a professor being out sick (how dare he, if he had just not fallen ill, you wouldn’t have been drinking last night in the first place), but you do have a study session with your friends later this evening, probably at the usual coffee shop where you push two tables together and cover them with laptops and print-outs and spiral notebooks, ordering one tea after another or, if you’re feeling particularly tired, one espresso shot after another.

 But oh, it’s so hard to say no to Miche when he’s looking at you the way he is, eyes the color of bubbling seafoam, hopeful, dancing with something you can’t place, and why—why does he want to keep you around? How is he not offended or disgusted with you? Why hadn’t he just left you at your own home instead of bringing you here last night?

 “Okay, yeah,” you sigh, having to look away before you get completely lost in him. “But, I have to meet Jean and Marco and them at six tonight.”

 “That’s fine. I can get you back by then.”

 You grab your backpack, hauling it over to the couch but dropping to the ground right behind the little coffee table. You feel Miche sit behind you, to the side but still close enough that his calf brushes your arm. It’s stupid to try to study. You know you won’t get anywhere, but maybe, just maybe, you’ll be able to retain something you haven’t yet. 

 Laptop open with a PowerPoint pulled up, blank notecards in front of you, you start scribbling away. You’re maybe four minutes in when you hear Erwin question, “Etiology, huh?”

 You only respond with a short, “Yep,” intent on staying at least halfway focused.

 “I remember those days,” he continues to muse.

 Thankfully, Miche seems to either read your mind or body language and picks up where you can’t. “You want to help her out then?”

 “Didn’t say that,” the other man laughs.

 “Then let her study.”

 Craning your neck, you look just far enough over your shoulder to see Miche wink at you and feel your entire body grow lighter. So, that’s what swooning feels like. 

 “Okay, okay, sorry, my god.”

 And, you’re left alone for a while, unperturbed until the game they’ve been waiting for comes on. They don’t do anything on purpose, but anytime a team scores (which is not often), they both move and make noise. You’re too aware of the way Miche’s body tenses and relaxes, and somewhere along the way you start to lean against his leg more than simply sit beside it. 

 Erwin orders takeout for the three of you, and when it arrives, Miche gets up from the couch, fingers brushing the crown of your head as he does, and that shouldn’t make you shiver, but it does, makes you stare after him and release a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding this whole time. Somewhere off to your left, Erwin snickers, but he doesn’t say anything, and that’s really all you can ask for at this point.

 Another PowerPoint and a belly full of Chinese food later, you start packing your things up. Time went by surprisingly quickly, either because you actually managed to get caught up in the material or because time always seems to move faster when you’re around Miche. 

 After sliding your notes and laptop into your backpack, you go back upstairs to gather the other things Miche had brought to the loft for you, remembering at the last second to change back into your own shirt. It all worked out well considering when you get back to the den, the game seems to be over, Miche and Erwin both with smiles on their faces. 

 “Did we win at sportsball?” You joke, laughing in your throat when Erwin gawks at you. “Just kidding. I know it was Soccer.”

 “Yes, we won,” Miche answers. “And, by we, I mean Liverpool.”

 “Well, good for… Us. I guess.”

 The three of you actually walk out together, Remy hopping in his harness as he goes. Erwin stops at the side of the road right next to a vintage Shelby Mustang, unlocking the door but only leaning against it. Before he can say whatever he’s about to, you turn to Miche, motioning toward the car and asking, “Okay, why can’t you have a car like that?”

 Both of them laugh, Miche not missing a beat as he shoots, “Because I don’t like getting roadrash on my ass. You see how low that thing sits to the ground?”

 “Okay, fair but… Look how pretty it is.”

 Erwin is absolutely beaming, gently raps his knuckles just under the window as he thanks you. “She handles like a dream.”

 “Yeah, how’s the gas mileage on it?” Miche challenges with a knowing grin.

 “We don’t talk about that.”

 The parting handshake with Erwin isn’t nearly as awkward as the first, polite as he tells you, “Lovely meeting you,” then, “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.”

 “Uh, yeah, maybe.”

 He waves at Miche, bends to give Remy a little chin scratch, then slides into his beautiful car and drives away.

 Which leaves you alone with Miche for the first time since last night, and wow, you kind of wish Erwin would turn around and come back. 

 “I promise he wasn’t always so annoying,” Miche says, and that at least makes you smile, but it does not get rid of the pit that’s opened up in your stomach. 

 “He really didn’t bother me,” you shrug. You start to walk toward the little lot behind the building where you know Miche parks, adding, “Besides, he’s friends with you, so he can’t be that bad.”

 Miche makes an unsure noise, all high-pitched and non-committal. “I’ve been known to make questionable decisions before, and he might be one of them.”

 “Questionable decisions,” you titter. “Yeah, same.”

 Obviously. 

 You lapse into silence as you pile your things into the back of the car. Miche opens your door for you, checking, “You good?” and waiting for your nod before closing it. Then, he’s right next to you, starting the car with the push of a button and backing out of the lot. 

 The quiet remains, enveloping you both until Miche turns on the radio, and you’re able to breathe easier for a few minutes.

 “Make any headway studying today?”

 “Some. Probably get more done this evening with everyone else.”

 “Yeah, won’t have two assholes right behind you clapping at a soccer game.”

 “I promise y’all were not that bad.” Sitting that close to him is what really had you distracted. 

 Another pause in already stunted conversation has you itching to get out of your own skin. Even with your apartment being as close as it is, you don’t think you can spend the whole ride there doing this, so—

 “Okay, I’m just gonna say it before I literally explode.”

 “Ah, been waiting for this,” Miche grins, and you almost reach out to smack him, but your brain is already too busy with what you want to say to him, jumbled thoughts with no organization in sight, probably nothing more than word vomit, but god dammit, you’ve gotta try to let him know.

 “I am so sorry about last night—”

 “Don’t be.”

 “I don’t even know why—I mean, no, I know why—I just don’t know what I was thinking—”

 “It’s okay.”

 “I shouldn’t have gotten that sloppy around you, and I’m so, so—I’m fucking mortified, and I know you probably are too so—”

 “Hey.”

 You pause, only just realizing he’s been trying to get you to stop since you started. Looking at you from the corner of his eyes, Miche shows one of his soft smiles, the kind that makes your knees weak.

 “I’m not about to hold it against you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

 “Why wouldn’t I be okay? I’m the one who fucking assaulted you.”

 Miche laughs, looking genuinely amused. “You did not assault me, and even if you had, I’m pretty sure I could have handled myself.” He flexes the arm closest to you just to prove his point, showing off the way his shirt sleeve pulls tight around his bicep.

 “Okay,” you squint at him. “No need for that.” Really just because the urge to reach out and squeeze the muscle is much too strong. 

 “I’m just saying. If I felt threatened or whatever you think I felt, I could have removed myself from the situation with ease.”

 “I’m just sorry I made you uncomfortable, and don’t even try to tell me I didn’t because we both know that’s a lie.”

 “You didn’t—”

 “Miche, I will harm you.”

 “Well, now I do feel a little threatened,” he mumbles. 

 You huff, he chuckles, then goes on to explain, “I’m not gonna say I wasn’t a little taken off guard, but it wasn’t something I—” Miche stops, seems to have to think for a moment as he makes a turn. “I didn’t dislike it. I stopped you because you were drunk, not because… Not because… Jesus, why is this so much harder now?” He chuckles quietly. “It’s not because I didn’t want it. Because I—I do. There. Fuck.”

 Somewhere in the middle of all that, your heart started to beat too fast and too hard, and he has to be able to hear it. You surely do, louder than the music playing, louder than his voice, pounding in your ears, picking up pace with every second because, “You do?”

 “Well, yeah, how could I not?”

 There are many ways he could not, many reasons: you’re twenty-five, you’ve still got years of school left, you work at a dingy bar and don’t even make enough for a halfway decent living, you’re a sloppy drunk and a little bit of a brat, the list goes on and on. 

 Remy gets antsy as Miche pulls into a covered parking place, looks at you seriously and says, “Hold that thought,” before turning the car off and stepping outside. 

 He grabs your bag while you carry Remy, out of breath as you make your way up to your apartment, though it’s not from the stairs. You unlock the door, set Remy down as Miche walks to the couch where he places your backpack. 

 Then, you’re both looking at each other, full on, no road to distract you, just staring as you try to keep your body from shaking with the rhythm of your heartbeat. 

 “Okay,” you exhale, hands beginning to tremble with nerves. “So, what… what exactly were you saying in the car?”

 Bracing himself on the back of the couch, Miche rests against it and sucks his teeth in a thoughtful manner. 

 “I—look, it’s been a long time since I’ve done this, or really—” he blows hair out of his face, lips forming a little grin afterward, but it looks about as confident as you feel. “—I guess a long time since I’ve been nervous about it.”

 If this is what you think it is, it’s been a long time for you too. There was no confessing in your last relationship, only falling into bed with a boy at a party and going from there. This, with Miche, is about as opposite from that as you can get. This has been a growing thing from the start. This has a foundation, but is it stable enough to build on top of? 

 He must see the question in your eyes, the uncertainty and confusion, because his expression turns to one so tender, and the muscles in his forearms relax as does the rest of his body. 

 “Come here,” he nods at you, and your feet move on their own accord, carrying you over to him, closer and closer. Miche’s legs, previously crossed at the ankle where he’s leaning—sitting, you realize now—spread enough to allow you to stand between them, and with such little space between the two of you, both your brain and lungs seem to stop working at the same time. 

 The light green of his eyes is mesmerizing and comforting, lulling you into a state of security despite your alarming pulse. You admire the soft lines of his face, all etched there from happy times. The gray at his temples interweaves and blends well with the rest of his dark blond hair, a hint of silver in his beard as well, and everything about him is so handsome—sophisticated and rugged at the same time, like he doesn’t even have to try, and it leaves your stomach in knots. 

 “I am in new territory right now,” he admits, but as he does, he raises a hand to brush hair behind your ear, and you swear to god, you can feel your pupils dilate. “And, I think you might be too.” You nod but find yourself incapable of speaking, hands seeking purchase and finding it in the soft material of his t-shirt. 

 “For the record, I didn’t—I didn’t start talking to you because I wanted—In the grocery store, it wasn’t like I targeted you or anything.”

 Finally, a laugh is pushed from your chest. “I know.”

 “Okay, just making sure. Just know I didn’t plan any of this to happen. I didn’t plan… feelings.”

 His face is red now, both of his cheeks as well as what you can see of his neck, and that brings you some relief because at least you’re not the only one freaking out a little. 

 “I…” You swallow, trying to get your mouth to work again and eventually succeeding. “I had an inkling I would probably catch them, I won’t even lie, but I didn’t ever think you... might… too.”

 “You’re a lot more charming than you give yourself credit for.”

 “Aw, shucks,” you giggle, and suddenly, Miche is pressing your face into his chest, which you can’t say you mind all that much. “Can’t look at me anymore?” You question, words muffled against t-shirt and pectoral. “‘m I that charming you can’t handle it?”

 “Maybe,” he chuckles, and you loop your arms around his waist, squeezing as you hum. “I need to ask you something, though. For… clarification purposes.”

 “Mkay.”

 “Last night—”

 “Oh, boy.”

 You feel the rumble of laughter in his chest more than hear it. 

 “Last night the, uh… Offer you… Presented me with,” he starts, and you’re already long gone, trapped in a fit of embarrassed giggles—a panic response—and well on your way to perishing due to the amount of blood that’s pooling in your face. “I don’t know exactly what to make of it.”

 “If I’m—oh man,” you have to wipe tears from your eyes, panting for a moment to catch your breath. “If I’m remembering correctly, I’m pretty—pretty sure I said I’d fuck you in return for you taking care of me.”

 “Right, yes,” Miche’s voice comes out strained, and you begin to feel like you're coming back to yourself. “Is that—”

 “Offer still on the table? Absolutely.”

 “Jesus, shut—” Hand on the back of the head again, face smushed into pecs again. “Good to know, but not what I was about to ask.”

 “Oh, okay,” you grin. “Carry on.”

 “Thank you. Is that all you want out of this… What’d you call it last night?” He questions, but he remembers before you can speak up. “Oh, arrangement. Is that all you want out of our arrangement?”

 “To be taken care of financially and in the bedroom?” Honestly, you surprise even yourself sometimes.

 “Yeah,” he chuckles. “Is that all you’re looking for?”

 “Well…” You push yourself away from his chest enough to stand a little straighter and look him in the eye, not that you can hold his gaze for long. He’s chewing on his lip, and you’re trying not to squirm too much, but it is difficult. “I mean, I—” Dropping your hands from behind his back, you instead start to toy with the hem of his shirt, timid all over again when you tell him, “I don’t know what I’m allowed to ask for.”

 “I don’t either.”

 Your eyes snap back up to his face, so open and honest. What could he possibly ask you for? What could he possibly want from you?

 Part of you wishes you could be a little more poetic, have something romantic or flowery prepared for an occasion like this. 

 But, you aren’t, and you don’t, so you settle for raising to your tiptoes and tilting your head back, hoping Miche will get the idea and fill in the rest of the gap. 

 You’ve always known his hands are big, but when they cover your cheeks and curl to the back of your head, they feel especially huge. Miche has to stoop, but he doesn’t complain, just catches your lips with his, inhaling sharply through his nose and stealing what little breath you have left. He is firm and warm and gentle, his rhythm matching yours as you press against him, mouths moving just enough to get acquainted but not enough to taste. 

 When he pulls away, you try to follow, eyes still shut, seeking him out. You feel a tiny puff of warm air—his chuckle—dance across your lips before he gifts you with another, shorter kiss, then he straightens up and pulls you tight against him. 

 Fingers curled into his shirt, you hold him a little too tightly, lightheaded and unsteady on your feet. 

 That just happened. You just did that. He just did that. 

 And, now… Now, all you want is more. 

 Before you can suggest anything (or even look at him with any kind of salacious intent), your phone buzzes in your back pocket, startling you out of your dreamy, lustful haze. 

 "Hold please," you mumble, retrieving it and finding a message from Hitch. 

 >> hey girlypop, need me to come pick you up?

 You weren't particularly keen on the idea of leaving Miche's to go study before, and now, standing so close to him, lips still tingling, you're even less inclined to go. 

 "Duty calls," he teases, then, noting your hesitance, adds, "We'll talk more later."

 "Yeah?" You blink up at him, can't help but push, "Just talk?" 

 One of his eyebrows lifts in a warning that makes you shift your weight from one foot to another, a syrupy heat dripping down your spine when he tries to suppress a little smirk and fails to. 

 "We'll talk later," he reiterates. "Now, go get ready for your study sesh or whatever you guys call it."

 You push your bottom lip out without thought, and he just barely brushes a thumb over it, clicking his tongue, then sliding out from his place between you and the couch. Flames lick upward from your stomach, and you watch through hooded eyes as Miche crouches to give Remy another pat on the head. He mutters something to the little dog, snickering as tiny claws scratch over his knee, then he’s upright again and reaching for the doorknob. 

He really has you convinced that he’s just gonna leave like that, kiss you like he owns you then stride back out without another glance at you, but you should know better at this point, shouldn’t look so relieved when he pivots back around and demands more than asks, “Let me take you to dinner.” You blink. “Not tonight, obviously, but soon. Some place without sandwiches or liquor.”

“What if I want sandwiches and liquor?” You play. 

“Then let me take you somewhere with gourmet sandwiches and liquor.”

You snort. “How fancy,” then tell him, “Thursday nights work best for me,” though you’re pretty sure he already knows that.

“Thursday,” he repeats, and he’s grinning and fumbling for the door handle because he won’t look away from you, and you want to kiss him again, want to kiss him so badly, you can’t stop yourself from skipping over to him and pulling him down for one more.

His palm slides over the small of your back as he bends, pressing your body harder against his so that you let out a happy little sigh and murmur against his lips, “Thursday.”