#i only talk and think about it every single day

[dear-aubade]

Kisses After Midnight

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Smut

Summary: Joel gets back from a long patrol in the middle of the night. It’s clear that his baby missed him very much.

Notes: smut, sub!reader, soft!dom!joel, praise, dirty talk, unprotected piv, Joel calls reader every pet name in the book, teasing, slight orgasm denial, dd/lg vibes sorta (but no use of ‘daddy’), let’s play a game called how many times can the author use the word ‘sweet’ in one fic

For it being the end of the world, you and Joel had a pretty good life. He’d been in Jackson for about eight months—eight months in which he gave his heart to the sweetest little thing to ever walk the earth.

Your very existence seemed to be a mockery of the times you lived in. You were soft and sweet, edges not yet roughed. He didn’t know how you’d gone so long staying as doe-eyed as you did—hell, he didn’t know how you ended up with him. He felt far too…jaded. Far too rough to be with someone so beautiful and untainted.

And yet, you were drawn to him. He still remembered the first day you knocked on his door, asking in your honey-sweet voice, I told Maria I’d give you a tour of the town. Is that alright, Mr. Miller? Oh, he’d just about died then.

Things only took off from there. Something would break in your house, and he’d be called over to fix it. Then you would bring him some bread you baked as a thank you, and then he’d say, Well this is too nice, darlin.’ Why don’t you let me return the favor by putting some shelves up in your living room? He’d seen the piles of books at your bedside—your love of reading deserved to be displayed.

Somewhere along the way, you and Joel just…fit. Something clicked, and soon he was moving into your pretty little house, placing kisses to your pretty little lips, waking up pressed against pretty little you.

Yes, for the end of the world, you and Joel were doing quite nicely.

Except on long patrol days, that is. Oh, Joel knew how much you hated it. Now that you’d gotten used to sleeping in Joel’s arms you didn’t want to give it up, not even for a single night.

But Joel had a part to play in the community—he couldn’t stop working, no matter how much he wished he could spend all his time with you. He’d press kisses to your quivering bottom lip, murmuring reassurances that he would be back the very next night.

Which brought him to now. He’d spent a day and a half out in the cold with Tommy scanning for Clickers, thinking about his princess the entire time ice and wind battered his face. Finally, after a day and a half without seeing you, he was shaking the snow off his jacket and stepping inside your shared home.

Joel was quiet as he took off his shoes and shed his outer layers before heading upstairs. Once inside your room he stripped down to his cotton t-shirt and boxers, then slid under the covers beside you. He wrapped his large arm around your body, pulling you into him and was delighted to find you were wearing nothing but one of his shirts. He nuzzled the top of your head with his nose, then placed a kiss in your hair. “Hey there, sleepyhead.”

You let out a soft yawn, still groggy and half-asleep. “Hm?”

He chuckled lightly and kissed your cheek. “Wake up, pretty baby.” Normally Joel would never wake you up in the middle of the night, but you had explicitly asked him to do so every time he got back from a long patrol. He still remembered your teary eyes the morning after the one time he’d tried to let you sleep and just greet you in the morning. He’d never tried again after that.

Now you began to really stir, blinking your eyes as you looked up at him with a soft, sleepy pout that he wanted to kiss. However, it melted away when your eyes grew a little more alert. “Joel?”

He brushed the hair from your face. “Mhmm. I’m home,” he whispered before kissing you soundly on the mouth. He pulled away just slightly, eyes dancing over your face. “I missed my gorgeous girl’s eyes…and those lips, especially.”

You leaned up to plant another firm kiss to his mouth before holding to him, nuzzling your face into his neck, letting out a soft breath of something almost like relief.

He kept you pressed to the warmth of his body, “Was my little girl lonely ‘round here?” he murmured, rubbing your back gently.

You nodded into his neck. “Missed you.”

He chuckled, kissing your neck, holding you close. “I’m right here now.” His sweet thing. His nose brushed along your jaw and neck, taking in your scent. “Let me ease that pretty little mind a bit, hm?”

Your breath hitched and you nodded, eyes getting a little more glossy…

“C’mere, babygirl…” he whispered, cradling the back of your head to pull your lips to his. Joel’s hands roamed over the curves of your body, mapping out each and every familiar piece of you, his palms warm and strong against your skin. He nibbled at your bottom lip until you parted your mouth in a gasp to allow his tongue to slip inside.

Joel soon broke the kiss, panting softly before he started trailing his lips down your throat and collarbone, nibbling and sucking as he went. “Missed that pretty little voice,” he murmured in that low voice of his. “Can you use it again for me sweetheart?” Joel knew how you got when he spoke to you like this. He knew you would be putty beneath him in no time.

You nodded, letting out a strained, “Mhmm.”

Joel pressed your back to the mattress so you were looking up at him. “Use your words, babygirl,” he reminded, dipping to kiss up your throat again. “Or do I need to make you?” His teeth caught on the sensitive skin below your jaw.

You gasped. “I-I can use ‘em.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, pulling away to look at your face, studying your expression. His fingertips brushed the edge of your neckline. “Can I take all this off, baby?”

You nodded, eyes big and wide. “Yes Joel, please.”

He let out a short, breathy chuckle. “So polite.” With that he got to work, pulling the shirt over your head with one swift tug, leaving you bare beneath him. He looked you over greedily, tracing his hands over your sides, squeezing your thighs, making you squirm. “Oh, sweetheart,” he groaned, eyes falling over your body. “Look at my sweet baby.”

You let out a soft whine of impatience, but Joel cut you off. “Ah—you gonna be a good girl?” He knew you would be. You always were. He just liked hearing it from your strawberry lips.

You nodded, eyes doe-like. “Yes, promise!”

He smiled. “Always listen so well for me.” He sat up a little to remove his own shirt and throw it to the floor, but swiftly leaned back down to kiss you deeply. You tasted like honey on his tongue and his hands slipped along your sides to rest on your hips, locking you in place.

You uselessly tried to buck against his strong hold, trying to press the apex of your thighs closer to his, but he was having none of it. He chuckled. “Needy girl…always gotta have me ‘s close as possible, hm? So greedy, baby.” His sentence was punctuated by a nip to your neck.

“Jus’ missed you.”

“I know darlin’, I know.” Such a soft, sweet voice you had. He met your big, glassy eyes as his fingertips dragged along your neck….your collarbone…until he grasped one of your breasts with his large hand.

He silenced your gasp with his kisses. His sweet girl—so sensitive, you were. You whimpered into his mouth as he brushed his thumb over the peak of your breast.

How had he been apart from you so long?

You were aching. Joel always likes taking his time with you, you knew that, but sometimes all you wanted him to do was pin you down and ravish you instead of playing you like his favorite instrument, stringing his fingers along each little spot that would make you sing….

Joel’s warm mouth closed around your breast and you let out another soft whimper as he flicked his tongue over the peak. Your hands were in his hair, threading through the salt-and-pepper curls while his tongue and teeth were at work.

Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Joel,” you whined, voice quivering.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’m gonna give you what you need.” His fingertips dragged down the center of your tummy, drifting farther and farther below…

“Oh,” Joel cooed, and you moaned softly as his fingers dipped into your wetness. “You’re so ready for me, sweetheart.”

You felt like you could cry from the need, the white hot flames that needed to be fanned and then extinguished. “Joel—”

“I’ll take care of you, darlin’. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

His thumb found purchase on your bundle of nerves and you keened, arching your back, trying to get closer closer closer while he stoked the fire between your legs. He held you the whole time, murmuring how beautiful you were, how pretty your little voice was, how good you were being for him.

You could feel yourself slowly unraveling; the thread of your very being was fraying, coming apart as you climbed higher, higher—

He removed his hand.

Oh, you whined at that, your climax being ripped away so cruelly and carelessly. “No, no, Joel I—”

“Shh, shh baby.” He quieted your protests with a kiss. “I just had to get you ready for me—want you to finish around my cock.”

His bluntness made you squirm, and you’d been so lost in your pleasure that you hadn’t realized you could feel his hardness against your hip, thick and heavy.

Joel shucked down his boxers and tossed them to the side while you lay there waiting, aching for that fullness you knew so well—

You squealed as he tapped the wet tip of his length against the bud atop your slit.

He chuckled and silenced your high-pitched noises with gentle shushing. “I gotcha, honey,” he murmured.

Then he slid inside.

Joel let out a soft groan next to your ear as he fully sheathed himself within your wetness. “So tight for me baby—“ He cut off with another grunt, sliding out before pushing right back in.

He was so big, his strong arms holding you as he rocked his hips, filling you up, up, up until you swear you could feel him in your tummy. Your walls clenched against him, breath hitching with every thrust.

“My baby,” he crooned, ducking his head to kiss along your neck and shower you with praises as he held you to him. “My sweet babygirl. Missed you so much out on the trail, thought about your pretty little pussy the whole time—”

Your head fell back with a gasp as the tip of Joel’s hardness tickled that spot deep inside that had your toes curling.

He chuckled. “Is that the spot, baby?” He pointedly thrust again, making you moan, and grinned knowingly. “Oh, I think it is, hm?” He picked up his pace again, hitting that spot over and over and over.

You felt something start to coil in your lower belly, something familiar and white-hot. Joel reached down to rub circles into your clit, which made you let out a high-pitched whimper and clench around his length.

You were babbling mindlessly, thoughts empty save for him and how good he was making you feel. “Joel, Joel, I—oh please—I need—”

“I know what you need babygirl.” His teeth caught on your earlobe as he kept his pace. “Can feel—fuck—can feel you clamping down on me. You gonna finish for me already?”

You nodded, your lips parted in a silent gasp of need, eyes big and wide as you whined out a desperate, “Mhmm!”

You bucked your hips into his, and this time when you felt your legs tighten, your breath fail, your tummy coil, Joel murmured hushed affirmatives you your jaw and neck and ear—

You cried out as you fell over the edge. Your back arched, your muscles seized, and your vision blurred with overwhelmed tears as you felt the warmth of Joel finishing inside you soon after.

“That’s it sweetie—fuck, so good for me, such a good girl falling apart on my cock, taking me so well—”

You were letting out desperate needy noises, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as the crackling heat lingered.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, claiming your lips, swallowing your whines with his mouth. “You did so good baby, so good….look at you, my pretty girl, my baby….”

Your body went lax, melting against him, each coo and murmur bringing you deeper under.

“That’s it…I’ve gotcha…” Joel maneuvered you as if you were light as a feather so that you were laying side by side, still connected, him still thick and warm inside of you.

Completely blissed out, you nuzzled into his chest, relishing in the feeling of his strong arms around you. Your eyes drooped.

“Tired already, babygirl?”

“Mmm.”

Joel hummed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s okay, darlin’. Just fall back to sleep. I’ll be holdin’ you the whole night through.”

Soon the fog overtook your mind completely and you drifted off, comforted by the knowledge that your Joel was home again.

[hjpsdiary]

slytherin boy's headcons (them as ur bf <3)

theodore nott as your boyfriend :

• he’s the definition of quiet but observant; he notices every little thing about you, from your favorite snacks to how you fidget when nervous.

• doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s meaningful—his compliments feel rare and precious.

• surprisingly affectionate in private; he’ll always find excuses to brush his fingers against yours or pull you close when no one’s looking.

• reads a lot and will casually leave books he thinks you’d like in your bag or on your desk.

• fiercely protective but subtle about it—he’ll silently step in when someone’s bothering you or shoot a glare that makes them back off immediately.

• has a sarcastic sense of humor that comes out more as he gets comfortable with you; you’re one of the few people who ever see him smile.

• remembers everything you say, even the small things, and will surprise you by acting on it weeks later.

• not big on grand romantic gestures but makes up for it with small, thoughtful actions, like brewing your favorite tea or saving you a seat in class.

• loves stargazing; it’s one of the rare times he really opens up, sharing his thoughts and dreams while lying next to you under the stars.

• isn’t the best with words when expressing feelings but tries to write them down for you in short, heartfelt notes.

• values trust above all else; if you’re patient with him, he’ll let his walls down completely and be endlessly loyal.

• his love language is acts of service—he’ll carry your books, fix your broken quill, or help you study without you even asking.

• secretly adores when you wear something of his, like a sweater or scarf, and won’t say it outright but will be internally smug all day.

• has a soft, calming presence that makes you feel safe and at ease no matter what’s going on around you.

• he’s not perfect, sometimes retreating into himself when overwhelmed, but he’ll always come back to you, knowing you’re his anchor.

mattheo riddle as your boyfriend :

• the ultimate bad boy with a soft spot only for you; he’s tough around others but absolutely melts when it comes to you.

• constantly teases you but gets genuinely offended if you don’t fire back—he loves the banter.

• incredibly protective to the point where he’ll square up with anyone who even looks at you the wrong way.

• thrives on physical touch—his arm is always slung around your shoulders, hand in your back pocket, or fingers intertwined with yours.

• has a devilish grin that he only uses to fluster you because he knows it works every single time.

• somehow knows exactly where you are at all times, and not in a creepy way—just always shows up when you need him.

• calls you ridiculous nicknames like “princess,” “trouble,” or “love,” depending on his mood.

• super possessive but not in a toxic way—he just loves reminding people that you’re his.

• absolutely hates when you’re upset with him and will go out of his way to apologize, even if it means swallowing his pride.

• smokes casually and offers you his jacket when it’s cold, the scent of him lingering on it for hours after.

• loves pulling you into trouble with him, whether it’s sneaking out after curfew or pranking someone, but always makes sure you’re safe.

• surprisingly intellectual—he can talk about dark magic theories for hours and gets a kick out of teaching you forbidden spells.

• his temper can flare up, especially when someone crosses you, but he always calms down when you’re around.

• absolutely adores seeing you in his clothes; he’ll smirk and say, “Looks better on you, anyway.”

• deeply loyal—once you have his heart, there’s no getting rid of him, and he’ll do anything to keep you happy.

• loves late-night conversations, where he gets a little vulnerable and tells you about his past and his fears.

• has a soft side he rarely shows, but when he does, it’s for you—whether it’s stroking your hair when you’re stressed or mumbling “I love you” when he thinks you’re asleep.

• he’s chaos personified, but somehow, with you, he feels like he’s finally found a bit of peace.

lorenzo birkshire as your boyfriend:

• he’s the smooth talker who flirts like it’s second nature, but with you, it’s genuine—he means every word.

• loves to make you laugh; he’ll go out of his way to crack jokes, pull silly faces, or do over-the-top impressions just to see you smile.

• low-key a hopeless romantic; he’ll surprise you with little handwritten notes, flowers he “found,” or surprise dates in secret spots.

• absolutely loves PDA—he’s the type to kiss your cheek in front of everyone or hold your hand just to let people know you’re his.

• he’s fiercely loyal, and anyone who tries to mess with you instantly regrets it; he’ll defend you without hesitation.

• the type to whisper in your ear during class, making you both laugh quietly, even if it earns him a detention.

• incredibly charming but gets adorably flustered when you flirt back or catch him off guard.

• loves spoiling you in small ways—buying you your favorite sweets, carrying your bag, or sneaking you an extra butterbeer during Hogsmeade trips.

• surprisingly good at comforting you when you’re upset; he’ll listen, wrap you in a warm hug, and crack just the right joke to lighten the mood.

• lives for the banter between you two; he thinks it’s hilarious when you try to outwit him, even if you win.

• would give you his scarf or cloak without hesitation if you were cold and wouldn’t stop teasing you about looking “adorable” in it.

• the type to plan spontaneous adventures, dragging you out of bed to sneak around the castle or explore forbidden areas.

• he’s a mix of chaotic energy and soft affection, always knowing when to be playful and when to be serious.

• low-key brags about you to his friends but pretends he’s “too cool” to care when they tease him about how smitten he is.

• loves running his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, especially when you’re sitting close or leaning against him.

• insists on being your biggest cheerleader, hyping you up before exams, Quidditch matches, or even small challenges.

• gets jealous easily but tries to play it off—he’s terrible at hiding it, though, and ends up pouting until you reassure him.

• he’s the kind of boyfriend who’s both your partner in crime and your safe place, balancing wild fun with genuine love.

draco malfoy as your boyfreind:

• starts off guarded, but once he lets his walls down, he’s completely devoted to you.

• the type to act all cool and aloof in public but secretly loves holding your hand or brushing his fingers against yours.

• buys you extravagant gifts, not because he’s trying to show off, but because it’s how he expresses his love—jewelry, rare books, or even something sentimental he knows you’ll cherish.

• incredibly protective; he’d go out of his way to make sure you’re safe and comfortable, whether that means intimidating someone who’s bothering you or walking you to every class.

• struggles to express his emotions verbally but makes up for it through his actions—he’ll always be there when you need him, no questions asked.

• low-key thrives on your praise; hearing you say you’re proud of him or appreciate him makes him feel on top of the world.

• gets jealous easily and tries to play it cool, but his little snarky comments give him away every time.

• loves spoiling you in subtle ways, like slipping your favorite dessert onto your plate at dinner or reserving the best spot in the library for you.

• softens dramatically when he’s with you; he goes from sharp sarcasm to quiet vulnerability in your presence.

• late-night talks are where he truly opens up, sharing his fears, insecurities, and dreams he’s too afraid to admit to anyone else.

• secretly loves when you mess with his perfectly styled hair, even though he’ll complain about it every time.

• will drape his scarf or coat around your shoulders if you’re cold, muttering something about how he “can’t have you freezing to death.”

• loves hearing you laugh; he’ll go out of his way to say something witty just to see you smile, even if it’s at his expense.

• incredibly attentive to your needs—he notices when you’re tired, stressed, or upset, and does everything he can to help.

• he’s not big on public displays of affection but will always find little ways to show you’re his, like resting his hand on your lower back or standing close enough for your shoulders to touch.

• gets flustered when you compliment him, especially if you call him handsome or clever—he’ll roll his eyes, but his pink cheeks give him away.

• he’s not perfect and sometimes lashes out when he’s stressed, but he’s quick to apologize and make it up to you.

• when he says he loves you, it’s rare but deeply meaningful—you can tell he means it with everything he has.

• despite his flaws, he’s fiercely loyal, endlessly protective, and wholly yours, doing everything he can to make you feel loved.

blaise zabini as your boyfriend:

• effortlessly smooth and confident, he doesn’t even need to try to charm you—it’s just who he is.

• the king of subtle but meaningful gestures, like holding doors open for you, pulling out your chair, or placing his hand on your lower back to guide you through a crowd.

• loves to spoil you, but in a classy, understated way—think fine chocolate, rare books, or spontaneous weekend getaways.

• very private about your relationship; he keeps most of his affection behind closed doors but isn’t shy about letting people know you’re his.

• gives the best advice; he’s incredibly perceptive and always knows the right thing to say when you’re stressed or upset.

• he’s not big on loud, over-the-top displays of affection, but his actions always show how much he cares—he’s the type to quietly take care of things before you even ask.

• loves watching you talk about something you’re passionate about; he’ll rest his chin in his hand and just admire you with a soft smile.

• has a wicked sense of humor and loves teasing you, but it’s always playful and never hurtful—he secretly loves when you tease him back.

• he’s the epitome of cool, calm, and collected, but you’re the only one who can fluster him when you catch him off guard with affection or a well-timed compliment.

• ridiculously good at remembering details about you, like your favorite drink, your childhood stories, or even the exact shade of your favorite lipstick.

• loves to keep you close—whether it’s casually draping an arm over your shoulder or pulling you into his lap when you’re alone together.

• fiercely protective but subtle about it; one look from him is enough to make anyone second-guess bothering you.

• will casually drop compliments about you in conversations with his friends, but if they tease him about being soft, he just smirks and doesn’t deny it.

• he’s a fantastic listener and always makes you feel like you’re the most important person in the room when you’re talking to him.

• takes immense pride in how you carry yourself and always reminds you of how incredible you are, even if you don’t see it yourself.

• adores dressing up for dates with you and insists on coordinating outfits so you both look effortlessly elegant together.

• late nights with him often involve deep conversations, a bottle of wine, and a lot of soft touches as he shares pieces of himself he doesn’t show anyone else.

• has a surprisingly tender side—he’ll hold you close when you’re feeling down, whispering reassurances that everything will be okay.

• he’s all about balance: the perfect mix of suave, playful, and deeply caring, making you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

[endearng]

Out of reach

Pairing: earlyseasons!Spencer Reid x hotchner!fem!reader Summary: You pull away from Spencer because of your jealousy. You go back to him after a few drinks in. WC: 9k A/N: fluff! pining! idiots/friends to lovers! alcohol consumption; spencer is a bit mean; reader doesn't communicate; hotch is a little older to have a daughter around spencer's age (do not come at me this is fiction). If I missed anything, please let me know! I had so much fun writing this one and it's now one of my favorites <3 masterlist

The jet was quiet as you and the BAU team made your way back from Los Angeles after successfully finding Lila Archer's stalker. The case had been a bit draining, after all, you've only been working with the FBI for a couple of months, and seeing dead bodies and all those other displays of violence was something you were still trying to get used to. Despite your sensitive nature, being Aaron Hotchner's daughter meant that you had mastered the art of a poker face through the years, not that it meant that your inner feelings were any less important. This is how you found yourself sitting all alone in a corner of the jet as everyone minded their own business. On any other day, you'd be sitting next to Dr. Spencer Reid, talking about whatever it was that could get your mind off the case you had just wrapped up. Spencer and you were friends, some would even say the best of friends, but you didn't mind about naming things — what mattered the most is that you got to be yourself around him and you didn't bother hiding behind the Hotchner glare, as he once put it.

Despite being unknown territory for you, after all, feelings and all that were protected by a deeply analytic and practical mind, you knew what you were feeling. Well, you were analyzing your reactions to check what had actually happened — and the thing is, you couldn't admit, not even to yourself, what that sinking feeling in your chest when you watched Spencer saying goodbye to Lila was. Amid your analysis, Spencer quietly approached you, silently motioning to the seat next to you. You nodded, shutting every single thought of him. Or at least, trying.

"Hi."

Hotch glare. "Hi, Reid."

Spencer felt nervous. He had never been on the receiving end of your… wrath before, so it was unknown territory and he didn't know how to act. His racing heart and clammy palms weren't helping him, either. Taking a deep breath, he said, "Listen, um, you... can... can we talk?" The stammering. Way to go, Spencer.

Glancing at him, ignoring the skip in your heartbeat, you nodded. "Yeah. Is everything alright?" A firm, secure tone. You mentally patted yourself on the back.

"You're a little distant... and—and I got a bit worried. Did... Did something happen?" He wanted to kick himself. What kind of person can't hold a serious conversation without stuttering like an idiot? Get a grip, Reid.

"No, Reid. Everything is alright. I'm just... thinking." You said.

Bullshit. You both knew that. Spencer, on the other hand, didn't know why it was bullshit. But he knew it was.

"Are you sure?" He asked, leaning towards you, almost invading your personal space and he shut his eyes before delivering the next question, "Is... I haven't done anything to upset you? Right?"

You took a second to answer him, willing your voice to stay still and the knot in your throat to go away. "No. It's nothing you've done. It's just... it's on me." You gave him a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes — that's when he knew something was definitely wrong.

He nodded, but he was still worried by your sudden change of behavior, especially towards him. It was like he was anyone else, again. And, God, he didn't want that. "What is it, then? You can talk to me, you know. We're best friends."

Best friends.

The words felt bitter on his tongue. The sound of them broke your heart all over again.

Best friends. "Right. Yeah. I know." You said, quietly, and it felt a little lifeless to him. He clenched his hand, fighting the urge to touch you, to ask you what was truly bothering you. "Thanks for offering."

Spencer felt conflicted. If he didn't say anything and didn't push you to speak, you would probably bury whatever it was that you were feeling and it would lead him into being even more worried about you. If he did, you would probably snap at him because of his undesired, bothersome insistence. "It's nothing." He said, defeatedly. "Can you just... Do you promise it's not me?"

Your heart ached and you smiled at him, a tiny, faint, barely there smile. He was so adorable, sometimes. "I'm just upset over something else. Don’t worry. You didn't do anything wrong." You finished, trying to convince yourself that he had not, indeed, done something wrong.

And he didn't. He didn't. You and Spencer, despite your proximity and sometimes incredibly ambiguous relationship, hadn't said anything about deeper feelings towards one another. You let yourself admire him, lovingly, from afar, and were happy with the snippets of attention you had from him when you two had some free time. You two were regulars in the coffee shop near his apartment and, by now, the local librarian, Mrs. Jones, could probably fake your signature from how often you two went there to borrow books. She would watch you two behind the bookshelves, whispering excitedly and curiously to each other about whatever suggestions you were getting from each other. As you missed Spencer's longing glances to read a summary, Mrs. Jones smiled to herself, both at how adorable you two were and how oblivious you were. In museums, you would sit down after some time walking around to his explanations of art and historical movements that impacted the expression of a certain age — you pretended to not know a few things, just so he could speak his heart away and not be interrupted by your own contributions.

You kept silent to make him happy.

Which was exactly what was happening now.

Spencer knew, for sure, that you were hiding something from him. But he also knew that he had no right to force it out. He fidgeted awkwardly, not knowing what to do with his hands, his heart still clenching. “But, but... you’d come to me if you needed help, right?”

You nodded, unable to speak. You knew you were wrong, omitting things from him. Just as the guilt was starting to weigh in your heart, Derek passed by you two with a magazine in his hands, throwing it at Spencer, exclaiming, "My man!"

You looked down, already knowing what it was. Spencer was a mess beside you: blushing, stuttering, avoiding your and Derek's gaze and throwing the magazine as far as he could, like it had burned him. Your reaction was a subtle twitch of your lips, not in amusement, but in need to disguise the pang in your heart. You both spent the rest of the flight sitting in silence, simply being in each other's orbit. You, guiltily. Spencer, worriedly.

Your reaction — or lack of — was staggering to Spencer. He thought you two were getting somewhere, despite your closed off nature and demeanor, he thought he was finally cracking you up. Everyday was torture, seeing you walk through the bullpen's glass doors with your professional clothes and your composed figure. It was torture to see you walk around so prettily and serious, holding his bare heart in your hands, and not even realizing it. By now, he lived and thrived on those rare opportunities you had to spend time together as he became more and more covered in you.

As the jet landed and Spencer walked out to talk to Derek, you pettily made sure to step on Lila Archer's face when leaving the jet in sheer frustration.

Back to the bullpen, you had gone to the restroom to splash some water on your face in order to calm your nerves and to tell yourself that it was only a matter of time until things got back to normal — until you got back to normal. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you wondered if Spencer could tell that there was something wrong with you, if you had let any of your feelings slip during your short conversation. The version of you that stared back was as impassible as you ever were. As you made your way to your desk in the dimly lit sea of desks, you caught Spencer and Derek talking, both having their backs to you.

Sighing, you just left the headquarters, not wanting to know what they were discussing, or rather, knowing what they were discussing, but unwilling to stay, even if it would quench your curiosity as to what Spencer had been thinking.

Maybe you didn't want to know the answer.

—

The days went by, cases coming left and right, flights making you almost dizzy — not that you would admit, but you were terrified of heights. Between those and your training, you barely had time to think about Spencer and the entire Lila occasion. You spent your days busy with work, studies and physical training in order to keep your mind away from that, but as you lay awake at night, the memories would come back to haunt you relentlessly to the point you had recurring dreams of them. Together, as you watched from the sidelines. You kept to yourself, slipping further and further away from Spencer.

Reid, on the other hand, felt your absence more than anyone. You took a rain check on all the invitations he made, even when he invited you to movie night, when he would definitely choose a Russian movie because you mentioned once how you liked how the language sounds. There wasn't any more donuts on his desk as he arrived in the morning (he would always joke that you and your father secretly lived in the headquarters and that someday he would see Haley bringing your groceries to the secret house), and there was no one for him to throw his paper airplanes, small flashcards with the Russian phonological alphabet, at. The change in your behavior was absurdly clear to everyone: you barely called or texted him anymore, you didn't look his way when someone told a joke to check if he thought it was funny... He was sulking, to say the least. Upon questioning you, you blamed your lack of free time and as he was going to question you further, you said in a teasing tone that not everyone was like him and that the FBI was actually making you go through all the training phases.

Finally, during the end of a particularly frustrating workday, he finally snapped, grabbing your arm before you could enter the elevator. It was only you and him in the otherwise empty hallway. "Ok. What's been going on? And don't," he said, closing his eyes, "don't dance around the subject. Don't say it's the Academy. Don't say you have to work. Don't. Please, be honest with me."

The exasperation in his eyes and in his tone almost broke the wall that hid your true feelings, but as you glanced at him, you figured you couldn't do it. Be honest? What for? To hear that you're nothing more than his best friend? Losing said friend was not an option, not to you, at least. But you also knew that you weren't treating him right, that keeping him out was not at all fair to him, that leaving him in the dark was as hurtful as it would be to lose him.

Breathing deeply, you answered with the same stoic expression you wore every single damn day. "I told you, Reid. People go through different, busier times in their lives." The lie tasted like acid.

Spencer clenched his teeth, frustration and confusion beginning to override some of his social anxieties. “That! That!” He asked through clenched teeth, his gaze intense.

"That what?" You asked, puzzled.

"You... you stopped calling me 'Spence'—not that you did it often, you did it more when we were all alone, and it... it sucks! It sucks because I don't know what happened or what I did that was so wrong to make you stop liking me!"

Come on, just say something! Get angry, get sad, get something!, his mind screamed.

"I never stopped liking you," you said, looking away from him. His words hit a particular spot that you were totally willing to discover later, but the mere thought that he knew that you liked him more than as a friend made you shiver.

"That's not the point! Or—or rather, it is! Because if you didn't stop liking me, why would you act like you did?" He asked, his tone rising a bit.

"Calm down."

"Calm down? I will not calm down!" He almost yelled. His eyes widened slightly, disbelief clear in his features and tone, not to mention the frustration. "Just. Please.” He said, closing his eyes, willing himself to tone it down, not that it worked... “Tell me what you're thinking, what happened to you! For once! Any normal person would react and stop acting like an emotionless robot!"

You gaped like a fish out of water, taking a small step back, his words digging a hole in your heart. Upon hearing his own words and noticing you distancing yourself from him, all the anger vanished from his body. The widened eyes were a sign of realization of what he had said to you. During the early months of friendship, you had confided in him that you struggled with portraying emotion like others normally did. Maybe it had something to do with growing up with a father who did it so perfectly when he was out of the house. When he wasn't actively playing the ‘dad’ part, Aaron Hotchner would wear an unreadable mask like it was his armor, his defense from the outer world, but as soon as he got home, he was back to his main role. You would watch him with his coworkers and mimic him perfectly to make him laugh. At some point, making fun of and imitating his demeanor had become some serious form of self-defense for you. Spencer, then, joked that you were making your way to the perfect job, but then he had gotten serious and told you that it wasn't a flaw. That it wasn't a problem that you kept deeply to yourself sometimes — that it was okay to be yourself around him. You had felt safe by his side since then.

But now, what did those words mean? Were they lies?

He breathed out your name, softly, "I... I... I'm sorry."

"Just drop it," you replied, pushing the elevator button. Your dismissive tone and your action of leaving made Spencer feel utterly desolate, like he had done the wrongest thing in the world and perhaps he had, but he just wanted you to let him in. For once, he wanted to have the answers from your lips, not spend any more time analyzing your every single action and words...

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"You know, Spencer…" he looked up at you when he heard his name, as you held out an arm to hold the elevator doors open. As if thinking better than to say anything, you sighed and turned to enter the elevator, shaking your head with the most disappointed look he had ever seen on your face.

Spencer tried looking at you one last time before the elevator doors closed, and despite your face being as unreadable as it often was, he saw a flicker of sadness that stung his heart more than he liked to admit. If he hadn't done anything wrong before, now he had utterly fucked everything up.

—

The drive home, for Spencer, was a torture. He knew that he had to pay attention to the road ahead of him, to the other vehicles and drivers, but his mind kept drifting to the last glimpse of you back in the headquarters. Your empty eyes appeared behind his eyelids every time he pressed his eyes closed. He willed himself not to cry, to not blur his vision, taking his frustration out on the steering wheel, where his grip was so tight that his knuckles turned white. As he parked his car and looked up to one of his windows, he remembered you. Because of course he would remember you.

The sight was almost comical, to be honest. You, clad in one of the suits that fitted you so well, sitting on his windowsill, a cup of green tea in hands as you stared out the window, trying to analyze every single drop of rain before it reached somewhere outside your vision range. The funny thing was that you had no shoes on, instead, Spencer lent you a mismatched pair, not being one used to having people over, he didn't have a pair of spare slippers. Then, you sat there with a dinosaur-pattern sock on one foot and a striped-pattern sock on the other.

Spencer, sitting on his sofa and holding his own cup (he had let you choose your mug and stayed quiet when you pointed quietly at his favorite), smiled to himself. It was weirdly calming seeing you out of your character, doing something so... human.

"I can feel you staring, you know," you said. And your tone was almost... teasing?

"Right. Sorry." He said, looking down at his steaming tea.

"I'm not scolding you," you said, turning to look at his direction with a grin.

"Right, no—heh..." he replied, bashfully, cheeks reddening at the sight of your smile.

If only you knew... how many hours he would lay awake at night, as thoughts swirled in his head, how everything seemed to shut down at the thought of you. How he would fall asleep to the wish of being on the receiving end of one of your rare smiles, how he appreciated that you were always the first one he talked to upon his arrival at the headquarters. How... how he would do anything for you to look at him under a different light.

Seemingly out of nowhere, you giggled. Everything stopped.

Spencer.exe has stopped working.

"Heheh—I guess... It's not everyday you get to see a Hotchner so out of its—heheh—habitat." You quipped, looking at him with a smile on your face.

Suddenly, Spencer lost his voice. The connection between his brain and his tongue, which felt heavy, disappeared. Completely speechless, eyes slightly wide at the sound of your laughter. It made you laugh a bit more, but when his stare and open mouth got too much to handle, you looked down at your feet, wiggling your toes to distract yourself from the intensity of his gaze full of awe. Then, Spencer got back to his senses, smiling at you as you missed it to look away in embarrassment.

Spencer blinked away the tears and left his car, entering his apartment. As he took off his shoes, he let the tears fall at the sight of your windowsill.

—

Meanwhile, you were getting wasted at some bar. Not just any bar, but the one you usually went with Spencer when you were feeling daring and wanted a change from the places where you both used to go to. You were a bit of a lightweight, so a couple of drinks were enough for you to start playing trivia with Spencer and let your gaze linger for longer, basking in the sight of him so carefree, having fun with you.

Upon your arrival, the bartender that usually took care of your orders, MJ, greeted you with a smile. When she saw no one was joining you, she frowned. "Good evening, Hotch. Where's loverboy?"

You sent her a look, but since you were letting your guard down, after all, there were no acquaintances or friends around, you didn't know if the look came out as a glare or if you looked like a kicked puppy. She snorted. "Gee... That bad, huh?" She asked, and you didn't answer again, though you muttered a soft thanks, MJ when she gave you your go-to drink.

And it turned into two drinks. Three. Four...

(MJ was now giving you alcohol-free drinks, too worried for your well-being. You and Spencer started to grow on her as you two kept coming back.)

You rested your chin on your left hand while you traced patterns with your right index finger on the counter. MJ was eyeing you suspiciously, drying a few glasses with a washcloth. "He kissed another girl." You admitted, quietly.

"No way." She gasped.

"Way."

"But... I thought you two were a thing." MJ was baffled, placing down the objects she was holding in sheer shock. "I always thought you two were like... together for years."

"We were a thing.... I think, at least... I don't know, MJ." You sighed, tucking a stray of hair behind your ear. Looking up at her, hazy eyes taking in her focused expression, you sniffled, "we were on this case and then he met a girl and then the next moment the two of them were making out in a pool. In a freaking pool."

She tsked, anger flashing in her eyes, "I swear, those nerdy guys are the worst."

"Yeah..." You muttered, fiddling with your straw. "Can I have another one?"

She pursed her lips, but she relented. Then, as she handed you the liquid, a guy sat next to you. Did he look like Spencer or were you already hallucinating?

"Hi. I'm Dave. Can I buy you a drink...?" He asked with a small smile, wanting to know your name.

No, not Spencer. It’s cool.

"Hi, I..."

MJ cut you off. "Hey, Dave, I think she had too much to drink already."

They exchanged looks and it took you a minute to feel offended by her interruption and knowing you were perfectly capable of speaking for yourself, but realizing you would probably have to entertain a stranger, you felt grateful for it.

Dave left with a sour smile. "Thanks." You muttered, again, looking at MJ.

"Do you need me to get you a cab, honey?"

"That would be great." You said, placing money bills to pay for your drinks and the tip.

MJ looked around to spot someone to keep an eye on the bar as she led you out of the place, hand never leaving your shoulder. As she called a cab, she made you stand on only one leg to make sure you weren't gonna need her to go with you. You scoffed, but obeyed her all the same, with a low snicker. As you two waited for the cab driver, a woman who MJ trusted with her life (and her favorite regulars), you tried to make conversation to make up for embarrassing yourself by talking about Spencer with someone. How pathetic.

"So, what does MJ stand for?"

She chuckled, shaking her head at you and at your dazed eyes. "That's classified information."

"I'm familiar with that."

The cab driver, Paula, arrived. She greeted the both of you with a smile and a cheerful good evening! As you entered the vehicle, you rolled the windows down and pressed the subject further, "Seriously, is it Mary Jane or were your parents more creative?"

She rolled your eyes at you, shaking her head. "It's Mary Jane. MJ because who would take me seriously?"

You smiled. "I like the shoes!"

Paula started driving slowly, just to let other drivers drop their own passengers, as you were lost in your own little world, serious expression taking over your face again, not wavering, as you delved deeper into the whirlwind of thoughts plaguing your head. Paula, looking at you through the rear-view mirror, asked, "Is everything okay, honey?"

You buckled your seatbelt. "Yes, yes. Just... keep driving slowly, please."

"Where to?"

Only then you realized you never gave her an address. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you gave her Spencer's, telling her you were going home.

—

An unknown number had sent Spencer a couple of messages.

[8:32 p.m.] Lovergirl is here, drinking all by herself.

[8:32 p.m.] Water, but still. I'm not having her passed out without you here.

[8:40 p.m.] Sent her home, people were starting to approach.

Throughout the time he had spent with you at the bar, the two of you exchanged numbers with MJ in case she needed your help — you know, being FBI agents and whatnot. But Spencer didn't need to see her name to know it was her and she was talking about you; 'lovergirl' and 'passed out without you here' gave him clue enough. His stomach tied in knots when he read that people were starting to approach her, the nagging feeling that the image conjured in his mind was making him feel almost sick, then, it hit him like a truck: Lila Archer.

Their… case? was as fleeting as a careless glance. To be honest, Spencer accepted her advances to spite you for having such power over him, even if unknowingly so. The young agent felt like you were so out of his league, so out of reach — you were all that pile of confidence and stoicism and pure lusciousness and everything to him. And he was a young guy who truly had barely been kissed so far. How could he approach you, charm his way into your heart, especially when you barely bared it? With Lila, it was... nice. Easy, even. It was nice being wanted, to be able to read her intentions and desires like a children's book. With you, it was a tantalizing challenge, one he was, for the first time, struggling with. It was not like having a high-school crush, not like pining over the untouchable girls that would catch his interest as he grew older. No. This was something new. You had hit him deeper than ever or anyone before.

Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, he gave room to the anxious thoughts regarding your father as well. Would it affect his relationship with his superior? Would it affect your relationship with your father? Spencer felt dizzy just by the mere thought of ruining something uniquely yours. No, he couldn't impose himself on your life like that. It was mean, it was wrong, it was immoral.

To want, to desire, is to be selfish.

It was a bold assumption. To think you were jealous of him. Nevertheless, the signs were all there, had been all along. He was just dumb and scared enough of making assumptions.

A barely there, faint sound of a knock on his door made Spencer fly out of his bed, dropping his phone on the bedroom floor, but he didn't pick it up. He had a suspicion as to who could be knocking on his door, but he was too scared of assuming anything. Again. Opening the door, he saw you, breathing a bit heavily. The stairs, he supposed. You always complained about them. Once you exchanged looks, Spencer’s surprised one and your earnest one, you asked, "Do you really think I'm a robot?"

Shit. He could feel his heart breaking in a million little pieces. The insecure edge of your voice and words made him squeeze his eyes shut; in his mind, he was kicking himself simultaneously as he sank down to his knees, on your feet, begging you to forgive and forget his dumb, stupid, frustrated, unrealistic words.

"No," he breathed out, wincing, almost as if he was in physical pain. "I—I didn't mean to talk about you like that. I was..."

"Frustrated?"

He nodded, silently, eyes never leaving your face. Your speech, albeit way out of the ordinary that he was used to, was flawless. If not by the dilated pupils and the faint smell of alcohol, not to mention MJ's texts, he would dare to say you were perfectly sober. "I was, too." You admitted, looking down.

Spencer made way for you to enter his apartment. He watched as you kicked your shoes off. The sight, that had become as common as the act of breathing, made his way flutter. You intended on staying. Or so he hoped. You walked further into the place, noticing everything as it ever was, as if you hadn't been to his apartment for some time now. "You must be thinking why I'm here," you said, moving to sit on the couch and mentioning him to sit on the small coffee table in front of you, as if you owned the place, and not him.

Perhaps it was true.

He closed the door once you were inside, hesitating for a moment before joining you. He kept noticing things about you; the way you were walking, the way you could barely look him in the eye, the way you looked… “How much did you have to drink?” He asked, quietly.

"Not much. You know I don't usually drink because I can’t hold my drinks. And I'm sure MJ was giving me plain water at some point." You said, looking up at him. Well, at least, your speech flawlessly delivered, even though you were moving a bit more… disoriented than usual. She's totally a Hotchner.

"I... I am," he started, sitting in front of you carefully. "I... I'm sorry. It's just... You've never been so distant. I guess that I was mean to you to elicit some reaction."

Your analytical gaze softened upon his confession. You needed to give him some break, be a little easy on him. Well, easier than you were being as of lately. Nodding lightly, you added, "I'm here to apologize, too. I know... I know that I pushed you away and I made you think that... that that was your fault. It's not."

He froze. No, he wouldn't have you taking the blame for how his actions caused you to react. He looked up at you, reaching out a hand to touch your intertwined ones, "It is."

"Hear me out. Please." You said, lowly, not breaking eye contact. This was so hard, and you had never felt so afraid before. How ironic — to be afraid of being brave. "I... I guess that by now you know why I pulled away."

"I do," he admitted, nervously. "It took me some time, but I... I think I figured you out."

You looked down, embarrassed. It was overwhelming for him to see you portray such different and so many emotions all at once. To you, it was as agonizing as it was freeing. "Well, yes. So... It, um, it wasn't fair. We... we are not something. We are not a thing."

His heart, doing all the thinking and feeling, nearly stopped. As if it wasn't enough, you kept on going, "I'm sorry, I truly am, for how I behaved and how I made you feel by being absent. It's... it's not my place. You have your own life, Reid. I can't be upset with you for making decisions. You're a grown man..." you sighed, glancing at every direction but at him. "I know that I'm wrong, okay? And I know that I shouldn't have pushed you away, nor should I have kept my feelings from you."

Spencer drew in a long breath. He didn't know what to say, but you couldn't be more wrong. All at once, he wanted to scream, but he didn't know what ro say; he wanted to run, but he didn't want to leave you alone — not for a second. He didn't ever want you out of his sight; he didn't want to be the one you were apologizing to, hell, he wanted everything to be okay between them, but it was nice that she was talking to him, finally.

"I..."

Every time he thought he could say something, words failed him. Then, you took it as another opportunity to word-vomit everything you've been feeling. "I was... I was jealous. I didn't like to see that. I didn't like that it happened. But I also know that I have no right to be upset with you because you're single and she's attractive and you're both consenting and willing to do whatever you please, so..." You shrugged as if speaking those words aloud didn't stab new holes in your heart.

Spencer looked at you, totally speechless. It made you snicker. And speak further. Shut up, you idiot. Please, please, please! "And, ah—hahahah—I guess I am, indeed, a bit of a robot because it took me a bit of alcohol to pluck up the courage to come here and totally—hic—destroy our friendship by telling you I love you so much; that I'd hate to see you with anyone other than me. It happened and I hated it. It still stings."

Spencer's heart threatened to fail once again. Your giggles, your words, your confession... His mind completely short-circuited. She loved him. She loved him? She loved him?!?!???!!! That’s what she’d just said, apparently. Okay, calm down. And she’d been jealous. She didn’t like him kissing another woman, because she fucking loved him. Say something, you dumb idiot, his brain shrieked. Say something!

You parted your lips to say something else, but apparently decided against it. Another beat of silence of Spencer staring dumbly at you. "I'm going," you blurted out, standing up.

Spencer, at breakneck speed, stood up as well to stop you from walking away, placing his hands tentatively on your shoulders. Your bodies were now apart by mere inches. "No." His voice was so small and pained that you sat back down.

Despite your apparent willingness, your next words told him about your turmoil. "Why would I stay, Spencer? I've been pouring my heart out to you and you haven't said a thing."

Looking at you, so bare and so vulnerable, Spencer suddenly had flashbacks from when he had lashed out on you earlier and simultaneously fought the feelings that were bubbling inside of him upon your confession. Couldn't you see the sheer shock on his face? Couldn't you see that he was battling against every single bit of self restraint not to pull you into his embrace and make you believe him when he would tell you that you were the only woman for him?

Sure, he had dreamed of you saying those words to him countless times as time went by and you two got closer. Shit, he literally dreamed of it. Of you. Speaking sweet nothings to him... He broke out of his daze, realizing that he was deadly silent, "Don't go..."

"Then say something. I'm here. Not as Hotch's daughter, not as your coworker, not as a part of the team you work with. I'm here as the woman in whose heart you've grown over the last few months. I'm terrified of your answer and you keep depriving me of it." There was a hint of annoyance and hurry on your voice, and he could understand you, he truly could. He just didn't... he lost his voice when he looked at you.

Saying your name softly, he beginned, “I said stupid, untrue things, and I’m sorry. I’m a jerk, and I know that I��m a jerk and—" You quirked your eyebrow and he took a deep breath, trying to cut his rant. "Just... don't sit there and think that I have nothing to say."

"Have you said it?" You pressed it, quirking an eyebrow.

"No." He admitted, widening his eyes a bit as he realized his mistake.

At the same time, you shot, "Not saying something is also an answer for me—"

"—but not for the reasons you're thinking! Do you know how hard it is for me right now?" Spencer was starting to sound very desperate and pathetic, not to mention the fact that he wasn't answering your questions.

Deep breaths (from both ends).

"Look, Reid..." He glared at you upon hearing his last name. "I think I should go home. You and I clearly need some space—"

"What we need to do is talk."

You sighed. "Then why won't you give me an answer?"

Silence.

"You won't even remember this in the morning."

At that, you deemed yourself utterly defeated. This was useless. "I'm sorry I came over. I'm... I'll just go, okay? Please, don't be upset about tonight. I apologize in advance."

The sight of her, once more shying away from him and turning to escape from him, was making Spencer frustrated, with himself, to no end. His heart clenched at your apology, to which he shook his head vehemently. The thing is, he wanted to get ready to answer you, properly, just like he always had some trick up his sleeve or some funny or curious fact to blurt during the most random moments. Spencer was good at speaking, but only when the speech was already ingrained into his mind, something he had read or rehearsed before. Plus, he was sure your state of drunkenness would stop you from remembering that moment.

Spencer dashed to his door, barely stopping you. No, no, no, no, no... She can't leave. This might be my only chance. "You're not going anywhere."

"Excuse me?"

"Stay with me. I don't want you to go." He said, softly, slowly, looking straight into your eyes. It made you dizzy. Either that or the alcohol.

"No?"

"Y-you're drunk and I... I don't think it's safe for you to go by yourself and it's late and... and..." he trailed off, nervously, desperate to get you to stay.

"I'm not drunk."

"You're not fooling me. You might be as concise as ever but you're not sober. Stay."

"Promise... promise you won't be upset with me?"

His heart dropped, heavy with guilt. And with love for you. "I promise."

Spencer silently led you back to the couch, gingerly holding your hand. He felt dazzled, speechless, desperate, frustrated, all at once. But your touch was starting to ground him back to reality, where you were real, having confessed your feelings for him, and he was a mess, not even being able to say anything back. Without much thinking, he said, "You should stay over tonight."

"Okay... I'll take the couch."

"As if I'd let you sleep on the couch."

"It's okay."

"Stop... stop acting like I sent you away."

You kept silent. You felt like he did. Through his touch, he hoped to get you to understand that his feelings were a mess, but they existed, and they were real, and they were yours. "That'd be alright with me, you know. Taking your couch. I think I would sleep better on your floor than I would ever in my bed. To... to say that anything is better if you're somehow involved."

His stomach made a flip-flop. Brain short-circuited again. You yawned, as if you had just made an annoying comment on the weather.

"Are you tired?" He managed to mutter.

"I am."

"Come on. Let's get you to bed."

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'? I'm not letting you on the couch. Come on."

"I can't go to your bed with outside clothes." You booped his nose.

He chuckled lowly, confused a little by your words. "Are you seriously worried about clothes?"

"You don't like germs. That's why I removed my shoes."

Okay, he thought, if I manage to put her to sleep without having a heart attack, I definitely don't need a cardiologist's appointment because it would mean I'm that strong.

"Y-you... remembered?" Damn it, Reid. Stop stuttering.

You sighed, tiredly, and rested your head on his shoulder, looking down at his hand holding yours. "I remember everything about you."

"You do?"

"Yes. Fortunately or unfortunately."

Spencer was too stunned to speak. Too stunned, too dumb, too afraid. Damn it. Damn it. He couldn't stop cursing internally. He forced himself to pull you towards his bedroom and even though he still sensed some uncertainty, he kept going. Reaching for a pair of sweatpants and a big t-shirt, he gave those to you. "You can change into these," as he left the room to make you more comfortable.

"Wait!" You almost shrieked.

"What happened?" He prompted, worriedly, reaching a hand out to touch your arm.

"I don't want you to go."

He bit back a sigh. "I'll be just outside."

"Just... stay here?"

"I can't—" he interrupted himself, just turning around so his back was to you instead. At that, he looked up at his ceiling and prayed to any deity to let him survive that night.

He could hear the sounds of your movements. The zipper being undone, the soft ruffling of the fabric as you tugged your shirt up your head... He was imagining your exposed skin, every perfect inch, how would you look without all those clothes that suited you so nicely, how would it be to touch you, to run his fingertips all over your heated skin, how would it be to kiss every freckle on your body, to—"Done."

Turning around, the sight was adorable, which made him somewhat guilty of his early impure thoughts. "I feel like Alice when she shrunk into a tiny human."

He couldn't fight the smile at your words. He led you to his bed, where you laid on your back on top of the covers, staring at the ceiling. Spencer left you briefly to get you a glass of water and some painkillers to leave by the bedside table. You thanked him with a silent glance. As he turned to leave, once again, you said in a small voice, almost phrasing it like a question, too afraid of the answer. "Stay."

"I'll take the couch."

"You asked me to stay, thrice, I guess… And I did. I asked you once and you did. I still have a few requests left. I'm keeping tabs."

He relented, laying next to you and placing a pillow between you two. You breathed out a chuckle and he shook his head, clearly knowing where your mind had gone to. He placed his hand on top of the pillow, offering his comfort, and then you tentatively placed yours on top of his. He grinned to himself.

It was hard for him to wrap his head around what had happened that night. He knew his words — or lack of — could be read the wrong way and you possibly did, but he also hoped that his actions were speaking louder. Just as he was getting lost in thought again, he heard your voice once more.

"Spence?"

That damned nickname.

"Thanks for, um, being so respectful. Not that I don't think you'd be. But, um, as you've said, I'm drunk. And I told you I love you. And you're simply holding my hand." He gulped. He was keeping count, too, of how many times you said you loved him. Twice, so far, but he wanted so much more, endlessly. He wanted to lose track. "I guess... that makes me love you even more," you finished, crushing his heart between your palms, voice thick with sleep.

When he finally turned his head to look at you, your eyes were closed and you looked peaceful, drifting off to sleep. Then, when he was sure you were actually asleep, he stood up from his bed, grabbing a pillow and a spare blanket to lay on the floor.

"I'll gladly sleep on my floor if it means I get to have you around, too..."

—

Spencer didn't get any sleep.

He tossed and turned on the floor all night long, both because his carpet was not the most comfortable spot to sleep on, but also and mostly because there was no way in hell his mind stopped working. All through the night, Spencer fought the urge to shake you awake to ask if this was real, if you really loved him, if the words that slipped through your lips were in fact your feelings towards him. Despite his curiosity and eagerness, he let you sleep, figuring that he had already put you through too much already. As you slept, a movie played on his mind: your moments together, your confession of love, and overthinking the words we are not something. We are not a thing. He feared that you would wake up and realize how badly he had screwed up and decide not to want him anymore. Yes, he was that anxious.

You, on the other hand, even though confused by his lack of answer to your heart’s words, felt lighter than ever by speaking out your truth (the booze did help you a lot, though). Being as analytical as you were had its perks. One of them is that you never let yourself suffer too much for too long, too attached to reality to care much about the rest. So what if he rejected you? Life goes on — and that’s what you thought with every other loser that you caught yourself thinking too much of. Spencer, though… Who were you kidding? Spencer was Spencer. And that meant the world… It wasn’t so bad, if he actually rejected you… you’d only have to face him every day, until the rest of your lives, doomed to work together, cursed to think and rethink all over again small, fleeting moments such as an exchange of longing glances.

(You felt strangely calm due to your touch with reality. Maybe, just maybe, you were hoping for the best based on his care with and for you. But boy, were you ready to give him a piece of your mind.)

As your eyes fluttered open, you stretched your limbs on an unfamiliar bed with too much space. Upon your confusion, the memories came back with full force. You jolted, sitting down, searching for him — and, to be honest, not wanting to find him. The house was deadly silent, so you tried to trick yourself that you were sure he wasn't there. You dashed to the bathroom, taking a quick shower to get rid of the shame and the faint reek of alcohol. As you moved around his stuff, you couldn't help but think that you were so familiar with his things that it was almost like you belonged there. Sigh. It turns out that hiding emotions is easier than feeling them, especially their extremes.

As soon as you finished putting on your own clothes, you stopped dead in your tracks as you heard footsteps outside the bedroom. You froze, not knowing what to say. Or do.

Spencer entered the room, holding a tray meticulously organized with some food on it. “Morning. I, um, made you breakfast.” Because of course he would make you fucking breakfast. 

“Morning,” you replied awkwardly and hoarsely. Maybe you cried a little bit, who knows… “Thanks, you didn't have to.”

“I did.”

You take your time to get a good look at him. He had bags under his eyes that appeared to be tired. The sight made your heart drop. “I'm sorry…”

“Don't be.”

“But I was wrong.”

“So was I.”

“But—”

“Last night you said some things. Do you, uh, do you remember what you told me?” You nodded, unable to speak. “Do you remember what you told me?” He repeated, trying to get a verbal answer from you.

“Yes, Spencer. I remember.”

“Can you listen to what I have to say now?”

You nodded, weakly.

“I didn't say anything because… because everything had gone in the most opposite direction they could've gone.” He said, approaching you calmly. “I was up the entire night, hoping to find the right words to tell you that would make you believe me after I… was stupid. I… First, I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I know you said that we're nothing, that we weren't something, that we didn't have anything… but… but you're everything to me.” At that, your eyes finally met his. The intensity of your gaze made him shudder, but he kept going. “All the time we've spent together was nothing compared to what I want to have with you… and… and… God! Do you have any idea of the torture I was put through with you? Constantly thinking of what we could be, what we should be, too scared of your reaction or that—that—that Hotch decided to chop off my neck because he found out that I was crushing on his only daughter!”

At the mention of your dad, you burst out laughing. Seriously? That was such a cliché! “Hey! I'm serious!”

“I'm sorry…” You bit your bottom lip, fighting the urge to laugh at him some more. He was adorable.

“As I was saying,” he continued, trying to sound annoyed, but a hint of a smile threatened to break on his lips, and he didn't pull away when you approached him nor he did when you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest, looking up at him, adoringly. He looked down, meeting your gaze,  “I… I love you. I love you too. God, it just feels so good to say that!”

You giggled, again. God, he could never get used to that sound.

“And I’m sorry for being so mean to you when I was frustrated. I should have been more patient and my unthoughtful words hurt you.” You kept silent, remembering his words. “I—I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing if you’ll have me.” He added, intimidated by your gaze.

Silence. “Well, I accept your apologies. I was unfair to you as well. And you know where I stand when it comes to you. My feelings, I mean.”

“I do… But…”

“But?”

“I'd like to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you love me?”

“I don't know. Do I, really?” You joked.

He blushed furiously, ready to stutter himself out of that situation. “No, I mean… you—you said that—that you remembered what you said last night and… so… putting two and two…”

Another giggle interrupted him. You traced his jawline, leaning up to kiss his right cheek. “I really, really love you.” A kiss to his left cheek. He chuckled. “I love you.” A kiss on the tip of his nose, to which he snorted, totally lovestruck. “So much.” A lingering, tender kiss to his forehead. He closed his eyes, already anticipating the next spot you would press your soft lips to.

As you made your way to finally kiss his lips, you decided to tease him and let him wait for a bit longer. Spencer groaned in protest and you chuckled a bit, finally deciding that it was enough. Pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth, making him sigh, you were thrilling on making him more and more eager. His grip on you tightened just slightly as he let out a shaky breath. You wanted to laugh, but instead, you poked fun at him. “Now you know what it's like to be teased.”

“I love you. Oh, Jesus… You're driving me insane. You're here… And you, you're you…”

You grinned, looking up at him, finally, finally pressing your lips to his. As you let out a small sigh, his breath hitched, both of you utterly drowning in relief and satisfaction. You pulled back a bit, grinning, going back to kissing him. Spencer's hands found your jawline, sliding back to tangle in your hair as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth. Parting your lips slightly, you granted him full access to kiss you properly, and he moaned at the taste of you, gripping your hair rougher than before. You groaned softly, and he proudly heard and swallowed all your small sounds.

The ring of a phone broke the urgent atmosphere that was building between you two. Spencer ignored it, letting it ring until you pulled away, gasping for air. As you did, the noise stopped and you met his lost eyes, totally dumbstruck, and you laughed because you probably looked the same way. He gave you a charming, lopsided grin, too stupid, too hypnotized to say anything.

The phone began ringing again. “Son of a…!” he cursed, picking up the phone. “Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid and unless this is an absolute emergency, I'm kinda busy—”

“Reid.” Aaron Hotchner's firm voice hit Spencer like a bucket of cold water. Widening his eyes, he gulped.

“Yes… sir?” You smiled at that. Of course you knew who he was talking to.

“We have a new case.” Hotch announced.

“Oh… okay… I, um, I—I'll be there in 20.”

Silence.

“Is everything okay, Reid?” Hotchner could read anyone, Spencer was now sure of that. Even through the goddamned phone.

“Wh—yeah, yeah… Everything's… totally f—fine.” He cursed under his breath as you gripped his vest, trying not to laugh.

“Do you know where she is?” Hotch inquired after another moment of quietness. 

“Who?” He squeaked. You chuckled silently.

“My daughter.” Of course it was his daughter.

Playing dumb is not a good look on you, you mouthed.

“N—no… I haven't… heard from her.”

“Sure.” Hotch said, skeptically. Spencer could feel the sweat on his forehead. After a moment, your father finished the call with an unreadable “We need to talk.”

Once the phone call ended, you burst out laughing at Spencer's reaction. “Not funny.” He protested, a frown on his face and a soft smile betraying his faux frustration.

“Come on, it is funny.”

He glared at you. “What do you think he wants to talk about?”

“I don't know. Men talk. I wouldn't want to get involved.” You said, grinning, pulling him by his vest.

He squeezed his eyes shut, relishing in the feeling of having you so close. “Do you think he knows?”

“Of course he knows.”

“How are you so collected?”

“Because I'm not the one he's going to scare to death, apparently.”

“He said ‘we’ need to talk. Emphasizing ‘we’. If he knows you’re here, then it probably—” you cut him off with a kiss.

“Well, then… Are you ready to face your biggest fear? The frightening Aaron Hotchner?”

Glancing at you adoringly, he chuckled. “I’d face him and whoever, whatever, a thousand times, if it meant that I could get you in the end.”

—

A couple days after the case, you and Spencer meet again, in your apartment. Sitting down on the couch, you ask him, amusedly, “Do you think he noticed?” 

“Totally. I could barely look him in the eye for the first moments,” He said with a fond smile, hiding from you the fact that he had awkwardly and bravely spoken to your dad about your relationship. You laughed, placing your legs on the top of his legs. “I guess we should thank Lila, after all.” He joked, and you laughed out loud. 

Leaning him closer to him, grabbing his chin and looking deep into his eyes, you muttered, “Don’t ever say her name again, Spence.”

Your wish was always his command. It would always be.

[4chensungs]

don’t kiss and tell

brothers best friend!jisung x fem. reader

after the incident of your brother finding out you hooked up with one of his friends, you promised to yourself to never look out for him anymore. but who says he’ll give up on you that easily?

wc. 2.8k

warnings. smut (mdni), jisung is down bad, body worship like crazy in here, tit sucking, fingering, ass slapping, unprotected sex

part 1 for context here <3

IT HAS BEEN one whole month since you last talked to jisung. one month since you saw him probably for the last time in a hot minute.

the last few weeks have been extremely unusual; you keep questioning yourself how was he doing, if he's even ever going to appear at your house again to hang out with you brother, like he always did. he's probably not.

and fuck jaemin, fuck him for screwing your bond with him. it's useless, pure jealousy and he's so stupid!, stupid for being this mad with one if his best friends of years, simply because he thinks you're still a child.

on the other hand, jisung is being not so subtle in the way he still wants you. he keeps liking the pics you post on your instagram stories, sometimes even replying to them. and it's the sad fact you're not giving him a single reply.

his mind wanders to the thought of you being already completely over him, wanting to distance yourself fully right now, thanks to your brother.

but your heart knows that's not what you want, and it keeps giving you a warning that the next time that you see him, these feelings will come back stronger than ever.

you miss him. so bad, thinking about him makes you sick.

you're laying in bed, scrolling quietly through your phone when the damn notification appears. why does he keep trying? you sigh out loud.

the__and.y liked your stories.

you ran your hands through your hair, turning off your phone to stare at the ceiling to collect your breath. you can't, your brother is still furious with both of you.

jisung ♡: why do u keep ignoring me in every existing social media

is he really going to do this? at this late at night?

jisung ♡: i miss you

you kept reading his messages and not replying. you didn't contact him for a month.

maybe, just maybe, things may have gotten lighter with jaemin. perhaps he's not really remembering this whole thing, yeah?

you: i'm sorry jisung

you: idk if this is right i really don't know

you: im confused

you turn off your phone again while waiting for his reply. let's give it a try.

jisung ♡: why wouldn't it be right

jisung ♡: jaemin can't control your life, you can do whatever you want

hm.

you: i felt bad that day and he's still so mad with you

you: idc if he's mad with me, he's my brother at the end of the day

you: i worry about you and how hes fucked up your friendship

jisung ♡: baby you know what's fucked up

jisung ♡: you trying to convince yourself that you don't want this because of him

jisung ♡: say to my face that you don't want it

you want this so fucking bad. to be in his arms again, and the thrill of being with him behind closed doors. god, that's all you want in every way.

you: ji

you: i want to see you

jisung ♡: that's right

jisung ♡: i've waited for this princess

jisung ♡: waited so long

you: i need you

you: i don't care anymore

you really don't give a fuck - your brother can hold his protectiveness instinct for himself, he actually can. you can't control what your heart aims for.

and it screams for park jisung.

"you can't ignore him forever, you know that?"

"who says I'm ignoring him? I texted him yesterday saying he should come this weekend." jaemin huffed, acting oblivious to the fact that the only reason why he invited jisung over was because of the boys' annual end of year party.

chenle deadpans at him with his stare, letting out a chuckle, "if you didn't invite him I would've done it myself." he paused, turning his head to look at the man, "that would be bullshit."

bullshit. jaemin swore he almost threw chenle out of the car in the harshest way possible - clicking his tongue in pure annoyance, "yeah, it was just fine when he fucked my sister behind my back."

"i'm pretty sure they did not fuck."

if you didn't then why were you both half naked. in his car. at your backyard?

"i'm telling you, I saw it. she was literally on top of him and she was fucking moaning his name, chenle. that's fucking wrong." your brother spat while still not looking at his friend - eyes focused on the road.

chenle keeps going, "cut this off, jaem. you can't see her as a baby anymore. let her live."

jisung is indeed coming to your house again - sooner than you thought. but it did take some days for you to find out, tho. you brother wasn't the one who told you.

in the same day, the last messages jisung sent you before you went to sleep.

jisung ♡: dress up prettily for me tomorrow

jisung ♡: will you?

you: what??

you: you're coming???

jisung ♡: jaemin told me to go and yeah i didn't expect it as well

jisung ♡: dreaming of you again

jisung ♡: kissing your sweet lips holding you so close to me

jisung ♡: it'll be all mine princess

you: go to sleep ji

you: silly

jisung ♡: i'll show you what's silly tomorrow

—

the sound of the boys laughing and loud pitching talking in the living room did quite mess with your head, anticipating the moment when he comes. it's crazy how you got so dolled up for him only, he's the reason why you're even going out of your room this night.

if it wasn't for jisung, you'd probably just greet the guys and come back to your own quiet place, drowning in your thoughts, alone. just like you always used to do before he appeared in your life.

a knock was heard on your door just right after you finished your makeup. unexpectedly, you meet a very tipsy jaemin.

"what the fuck is this outfit?" he spats, crossing his arms in front of his chest - his body unbalanced. for a split second, you closed your eyes and thanked all the existing Gods under your breath. he's drunk.

you smiled, "felt pretty today. you smell like beer, don't talk to me."

"hey, hey, hey." he grabbed your arm before you could close the door and kick him out, "come say hello to my friends. don't be rude."

you fixed your hair and outfit and went to the living room, being find with chenle, jeno and donghyuck's figures sat around the big table, nestled with all the different kinds of drinks and alcohol.

your breath hitched when jisung was nowhere to be found.

after greeting the guys, you decided to wait in your room - not sure on how, or when will jisung get there and you'll finally get to release all of your wants. show him how much you miss him and vice versa.

not much time had passed before another knock was heard on your door. you were sprawled on bed, dim lighting decorating the ambient.

"come in."

you said that because you thought it was your brother. jisung carefully opened the door, eyes peeking first to check on you.

that scene truly felt like a movie. you slowly got up, a smile starting to pop up in your lips as you walked to him.

your voice trembling, "hi, ji."

you opened the door fully for him to enter your space, he wasted no time to step in and pull you into a hug.

a mess was happening in your head, so ridiculously dizzy from him - the masculine smell of his cologne filling your nostrils, his hands holding your body flush to him while yours gripped his black t shirt, so simple and casual but yet made him look so attractive.

or maybe that’s just because you miss him a lot.

jisung leaned away from your embrace, gently taking your hair out of your face while holding eye contact - hands flew to your hips.

"you look gorgeous. more than ever."

your arms secured their hold around his neck, feeling your cheeks burning red from his words, "just for you." you announced.

he nodded, "all for me."

you both smiled like two idiots in love as he leaned down to kiss you, mouths melting so sweet at first - tongues brushing here and there, hums being heard throughout the kiss, "so pretty in this dress." he mumbles in between.

his back hits the door as he closes it, left hand leaving your hips for a mere second just to lock it.  making absolute sure that no one will be able to interrupt.

jisung grabs a hold of your thighs to help you walk further into your room, so familiar to him.

all the times you've sneaked out, when jisung slept by and left jaemin's room in the middle of the night when he was in a deep sleep. all behind his back with so much carefulness.

when he lays you down he's quick to trail his wet kisses down to your neck, firm hands caressing your whole body, going up and down in motions.

you arch into him, playing with his black hair strands as his face rests on your chest, meanwhile his lips keeps smooching your hot skin.

you sigh in contentment, knees pressing together - trying to give him a sign that you're needy, so painfully needy for him.

"jisung i want- mhhm" your words get cut off by your own whine when his hand grabs the top of your dress to pull it down, hanging it just below your bra.

"don't want to take your dress off.. youre looking too beautiful like this." his deep voice quietly said.

you smile at his sweet comment, holding back all your whines combined with the feeling of his fingers messing with the lace of your white bra, throwing your head back with no shame when he pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, still not taking it off your body.

"so pretty, princess. i could admire you all day."

cool air is fast to hit but it's soon replaced by jisung's hot mouth, circling your breast with his tongue, hand massaging the other while his mouth does wonders on your soft flesh.

when he reaches for your nipple you whine even louder, his saliva pooling and soaking your whole breast when he sucks it into his warm hot mouth, humming nonstop.

"you're crazy ji-jisung."

"should i stop?" he teases, leaning his mouth away from your nipple and replacing it with his finger, rubbing it.

"no for fucks sake.. but I'm trying so hard to keep quiet." your voice trembled slightly.

jisung looks at you then laughs, “they’re so wasted right now, no one’s conscious in that room, love.”

you pout at him, he softly traces your bottom lip with his thumb before kissing you again, “I promise you, it’s okay. but I need you to tell me it’s okay with you.”

his soft and caring voice did turn you on even more, it shouldn’t, but it made you wetter. eyes holding so much love and appreciation looking at yours - “I want this. I want you, ji.”

jisung smiles one more time, giving you a nod and resumed his work, mumbling a deep “fuck” under his breath when he tested the waters, hand went under your dress to feel your core.

he pulled the ends of your dress up to your stomach, your thighs ridiculously pressed together. you should be ashamed of how wet you were, but you’re not, not even a single bit.

he gives your thighs a caress, “let me spread them, hm?”

your breath hitches when he brings your knees to your chest, spreading you all open and full for him. jisung mentally coos at the scene in front of him.

just like your bra, white lace panties with a wet dark patch decorated in the middle, like a gift for him. it drove him crazy.

“did you miss me that much, princess?” you can only moan as response when he touches the wet patch with his finger before pulling the lace to the side, holding it in place with one finger, while his middle finger travels up and down your cunt.

wet, so fucking wet, “fuck. love, i might cum just by looking at this.” he cursed and cursed again, eyes wide open and looking straight at your puffy displayed cunt, so wet just for him. he knew that and so did you.

“oh fuck baby i can’t-“ jisung’s fingers spread you open to admire you better - in love, genuinely in love with how your pretty pussy shines for him, glistening and begging to suck him in.

he leans down fast enough to give your clit a quick kiss, “can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is.” still caressing your core.

you moan his name desperately at his nasty but sweet comment, tons of whines and “jisung” ‘s leaving your mouth.

“ji please. want your fingers.” you manage to say.

“of course, gotta prep my beautiful girl.” he smiles, an expert finger circling your clit before diving down into your entrance. covered with slick, your cunt invites him just as soon.

experienced fingers pumping in and out continuously, you whine with your eyes closed at the sound of wetness.

jisung’s in complete awe, stoping his staring at your hole to kiss your face, first at the corner of your mouth, then at your lips, shutting your whines off.

“you’re perfect.” he leans away to say.

nothing’s more perfect in this world than the sensation of his long and thick fingers inside you, scissoring you and reaching the deepest and most sensitive spots ever. you’ll say that to him later.

you try to smile but you soon harshly bite your lip when he curled his two fingers inside, you yelped, “jisung! oh my god-“

he kisses you again, and again, until he’s satisfied and thinks you’re ready to take him. jisung’s fingers leave you empty, and you let out a cry - his eyes make their way to between your legs to see how you’re pulsating.

“never seen my princess this wet..” deep cocky voice says.

you reach out to take off your dress, “i’ve missed you.”

when your dress was discarded to the floor, he was quick to unbutton his jeans as they went to the same destination of your clothes.

you could see his erection through his boxers, and as much as you want to such him off right now, you’re needing him inside. now.

your panties were about to be discarded before jisung grabbed your hand and shook his head, “want them on, baby. s’ pretty. keep the bra too.”

knowing how he likes it with you, you turned around and pinned your front to the bed, arching your back and your ass in the air.

“fuck, just like that.” he pumps his cock at first, cooing you while you wait for him.

jisung’s hands flew to your back to arch it even more, then to hold your hips. he rubs the head of his dick on your entrance, how your pussy almost sucks him in just from the rubbing.

when he enters you, you let out a little too loud moan. hands clutching the sheets and tears filling your eyes.

he’s completely focused on how you keep clenching around him - the amusing view of your cunt sucking him all the way in, then out again.

your hips were pressed to his shaft, feeling him so fucking deep into your womb.

jisung coos again, “you don’t know how I’ve been dying for this.” he slaps your ass.

“jisung! jisung fuck, jisung.” you whine like a baby, lost in the pleasure. ass stinging from his big hand slap and cunt begging to be filled until you get sore.

“my love.” another slap, “fucking made just for me.”

his cock is so big and it leaves you like a babbling mess, so big that it almost hurts from how good it is, hits you in all places.

you both were getting closer, his thrusts started to get sloppier and messier, slower as he pulled away to release at your back.

your own release dripped down your pussy and thighs, while his hot cum painted your back down to your ass cheeks. what a scene.

“want them all to see this mess.. jaemin needs to see how you’re good to me.“ he admires the sight of your cunt clenching and unclenching around absolutely nothing but the air, “can’t believe you’re mine and no one can ever change that.”

you tiredly laid back on your back again, trying to fix your hair. jisung’s sweaty body joined you after tossing the dirty sheets aside, he breathes heavy, but still with that cute smile on his lips.

“do you think they heard something?.” you look up at him, voice low.

jisung thinks for a second, furrowing his brows, “i honestly don’t think so, baby. but you need to change these sheets..”

“of course i will, ji.” you laughed fondly. there’s still some questions hanging in the air, with what face will he come back to the boys?

“and if they ask you where were you this whole time and what were you doing…?”

“then i’ll just say that i was fucking the prettiest girl in the family and i don’t regret it.”

—

© 4chensungs

[melosliving]

I loveeee kelvin and pregnant reader. Can you do a aaron version?🥺🥺

i love when y’all are asking for thingssss pls keep doing this it makes my day. Hope you’ll like it !!

aaron pierre x pregnant!reader

husband!aaron who promised himself he would only get you pregnant after putting a ring on your finger first. (yes he is intentional like that.)

husband!aaron who actually can’t go on with his day without imagining how pretty you would look being pregnant. And he knew you’d be the most incredible mother ever.

It’s the way you coo at any baby looking in your direction or how you would soften whenever you two would pass by the baby section at the store.

"Look papa ! that’s actually so tiny.." you would say, holding a random onesie in your hands.

husband!aaron who softly takes your hand and let you handle things every single time someone asks when y’all will be having kids, wanting to remain calm because he actually hated these type of question.

"I know you’re not all up in my business, cousin." You would say, pointing teasingly at your cousin.

husband!aaron who can’t help but look at you like you were the most beautiful and priceless woman every time he would see you napping with a relative’s kid during a family gathering.

husband!aaron who starts to stress himself when thinking about having a kid with you, leading him to be awake at 3 am but still holding one of your hand in his since he wants to be close to you.

"..baby ?" he would watch you tilt your head towards him, your fingers rubbing your sleepy eyes. "why are you not sleeping ? what’s wrong ?" you would ask, pulling yourself up.

"nothing lovie, go back to sleep."

"uh-uh." you answered, going to take his hand, laying you two down again but this time he had his torso and head on your belly, his arms circling your waist. "tell me."

he would sigh, his fingers tracing shapes on your belly. "actually.. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something but I’m starting to overthink it." he explains. "I want to have a baby with you. I think we’re ready. But I can’t help but wonder if we’re really ready, and if you really want this with me, if we’re stable enough and what if-"

he would stop himself at the feeling of your hand going down his face, using your finger to pull his chin up so he would be looking at you. "doudou, I wouldn’t have married you if i didn’t want babies with you." you say in your typical softness. "I’ve always wanted you to be the father of my kids."

husband!aaron in who from this day, something primal awakes every time y’all make love. Best believe it’s either he asks you if you really want this, or you tell him to just get you pregnant.

husband!aaron who tries to be between your legs every time of the day. He really has no business wanting to make love to you like that.

husband!aaron who is actually the one who tells you that you’re pregnant. He would immediately notice something different about you. that something being your boobies.

"baby have you seen my br- why are you lookin at my tits like that, you freak ?" You would ask, actually bare chest, only your legs covered by your towel.

"baby, have you thought about taking a pregnancy test ?"

"boy you have lost your mind. Help me find my bra, my mom is waiting for me !"

husband!aaron who is so nosy he would ask to be in the bathroom while you took the test.

husband!aaron who only smiled brightly at you when the test came back positive. He would hold you close to him while you started to cry a bit because of the shock.

"I got you, baby. I got you." He would kiss your forehead, actually grateful for this moment.

husband!aaron who would watch your every move, every breath you would take only to make sure you were okay. he would actually get on your nerves.

pregnant!reader who goes full kylie jenner on the world, since she wanted a quiet pregnancy.

husband!aaron who goes to his mom to ask for baby clothes him and his siblings wore when they were born.

husband!aaron who quietly cries after the first ultrasound. Seeing the tiny flicker of the baby’s heartbeat on the ultrasound overwhelmed him in ways he never thought possible.

husband!aaron who started documenting everything, especially every silly craving you had.

"can you hold this for me, pretty ?" He would ask, stopping in one of the grocery store’s aile. Indeed, he was really adamant about taking pictures of every cravings you had.

"bubba needs to know what you put me through,” he joked, snapping a picture while you rolled your eyes.

husband!aaron who sat beside you during every sleepless night, rubbing your back when the discomfort got too much. “I wish I could take this part for you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I wished you could too." You would answer, laughing.

soon-to-be-father!aaron who nearly passed out when you went into labor but composed himself immediately because he knew you were going through one of the most traumatic experiences of your life.

soon-to-be-father!aaron who held your hand, murmuring words of encouragement even as his own hands shook.

“You’re so strong, lovie. You’ve got this,” he said, tears slipping down his cheeks when he heard the first cries of your baby.

mom!reader who sobs as she looks into her baby’s eyes.

"Aaron ! the baby has your eyes color !" you would cry, looking at your baby beautiful eyes.

boy dad!aaron who held your baby boy for the first time with trembling hands, staring at his tiny face like it was the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

“He’s so small… but so perfect,” Aaron whispered, his voice cracking as he kissed the baby’s forehead.

"I’ll forever be grateful for this gift you have given me, baby." he would say, looking back at you with his eyes full of love.

@ melosliving 2025

[heesterical]

"My friend here thinks you're cute!" - Jaemin.

Pairing: Jaemin x F!Reader.

Synopsis: You're not sure that accepting(?) Donghyuck's idea of wingmanning was a good decision, since he's about as subtle as a rock, but at least it was… effective.

Genres: Fluff. Comedy (there was an attempt.)

Wc: 1k.

“Don’t turn immediately, but there’s a guy in a black t-shirt near the water cans behind you. That’s him.” You say softly, glancing over Donghyuck’s shoulder. 

Said guy was hunched over a pile of donated supplies, neatly sorting bags of pet food into the labeled bins. Even from a distance, you could tell he was focused, his brows slightly furrowed, the short sleeves of his shirt revealing his forearms as he worked.

Donghyuck, being Donghyuck, immediately turned around, not even trying to be subtle.

“Donghyuck!” you hiss, grabbing at his arm, but it’s too late. He’s already full-on staring.

“Huh. Nice arms,” he observes, nodding approvingly before turning back to you with a smirk. “You’ve got taste, I’ll give you that.”

You roll your eyes, cheeks heating up. “Shut up. I told you not to make it obvious!”

“And you promised you wouldn’t be a chicken. Yet here we are,” he counters, putting the flyers down in a neat pile on the table. “You’ve been pining over him for weeks, Y/n. It’s tragic. Let me help you.”

“I’ve not been pining over him! I just… think it’s cute how he always greets the dogs with that big smile,” you mutter, trying to sound casual as you adjust the paperwork and flyers on the table. “Even when he looks dead tired, he still sits with them and talks about his day like they’re his best friends.”

Donghyuck stares at you, wide-eyed. “Oh my god, you’re hopeless. That’s even worse than I thought.”

“Shut up!” you hiss at his annoyingly loud accusations. You duck your head, trying to hide the embarrassed blush creeping up your neck. “It’s not like that. I just… admire how he’s so kind to the dogs. He’s just—”

“Adorable? Sweet? Husband material?" Donghyuck finishes for you, grinning like the devil he is.

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Why do I tell you anything?”

“Because you need me,” he says dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “And because if you don’t make a move, I will.”

“You wouldn’t,” you warn, your eyes narrowing.

“Wouldn’t I?” he challenges, already standing straighter, his eyes glinting with mischief. Your stomach flips and you know that it spells trouble. 

“Hyuck, don’t—”

Too late. He’s cupped his hands around his mouth and is already calling out, “Hey!”

Oh god.

"What do you think you're doing-!" 

"Hey, you! Black t-shirt!" 

"Donghyuck, shut the fuck up-" 

He looks up immediately, pointing at himself when he sees that Donghyuck was staring right at him.

“Yes, you! Jaemin, right? My friend here thinks you’re cute!” Donghyuck shouts - even though he’s already got the attention of both Jaemin, and every single person in the vicinity.

You wonder if it is too late to drown Donghyuck in a bathtub and escape to another city. 

For a moment, Jaemin just looks at you, then at Donghyuck, and back at you. Finally, to your horror, he smiles, getting up and brushing his hands off on his jeans. He starts walking towards you, and your panic only grows.

“Oh my god, Hyuck, I’m going to kill you,” you mutter through gritted teeth, desperately wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

“Relax,” Donghyuck says, patting your shoulder with zero remorse. “This is your big moment. Don’t blow it.”

“I hate you so much.”

Jaemin reaches you in just a few strides, his smile easy and warm. “Hi,” he says smoothly. His eyes linger on yours for a moment before darting to the guy next to you. “You must be the world’s loudest wingman.”

Donghyuck grins, unbothered. “I prefer ‘effective.’” He gestures toward you with exaggerated flair. “And here’s my very cute, very single friend.”

You press your lips into a tight line, feeling the heat of several stares on you. You shift awkwardly on your feet, suddenly aware of how much attention the three of you were drawing from the people around you. 

Your cheeks flare with a fresh wave of embarrassment. You try to subtly adjust your posture, but it only makes things worse — and now you’re hyper-aware of every tiny movement. 

Jaemin chuckles softly, his gaze returning to you. “So... is it true?” he asks, tilting his head slightly. “You think I’m cute?” 

You glance up at him. “I—uh—” 

“She does!” Donghyuck pipes in before you can even form a coherent sentence. “She’s been admiring you for weeks. It’s kind of pathetic, honestly.”

You elbow him in the ribs. 

Jaemin, however, doesn’t seem weirded out. 

“Weeks, you say?” he repeats, his voice light, and you can hear the playful edge to it. He sounds amused, and maybe, just maybe, a little flattered.

You bite your lip, a nervous laugh escaping you. “It’s not like that,” you try to salvage whatever is left of your dignity.

Jaemin’s smile grows, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, I think you’re cute too,” he says easily, his tone light but sincere.

You stare at him, your brain short-circuiting. “You... what?”

“I’ve noticed you around,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “Was wondering why you kept glancing over.”

Perhaps drowning Hyuck in the bathtub wouldn’t be nearly enough.

“I… wasn’t staring at you. I swear. Just, you know, the dogs are adorable.” You say, attempting to salvage whatever was left of your dignity.

“Really?” Jaemin sighs, pretending to be disappointed. “I was hoping it was me you were looking at.”

Oh?

You raise an eyebrow, a bit of confidence creeping in despite the blush still covering your cheeks. “Oh, so you don’t mind if it was you I was looking at?” you tease, a sly grin tugging at your lips.

Jaemin's smile widens. “Not at all,” he shrugs. “In fact, I think I’d prefer it.”

Donghyuck gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “Oh my god, this is better than a K-drama.”

You ignore him, focusing on Jaemin, who looks at you like he’s genuinely glad this is happening. “So,” he continues, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice. “Can I get your number?”

You can have anything you want from me, Jaemin....

NCT Masterlist.

[margotw10bis]

Friendly Marriage.JJK Drabble 2

bestfriend!Jungkook x female reader

Genre: drabble; fluff (non-idol Jungkook)

Words: 1.8k

Synopsis: You accompany your best friend for his first tattoo because, well, he can't take an important step in his life without you.

"Precious and Inked" drabble from Friendly Marriage (this takes place before the main story)

You clearly remember when Jungkook’s appeal for tattoos appeared. You were six and it was summer. It was a hot day, almost unbreathable which spurred your parents to drive to the beach, willing to enjoy the faint breeze from the sea. 

Obviously, you weren’t the only ones seeking to cool down and the beach was full. But as your parents were settling your stuff, Jungkook grabbed your hand and urged you to go near the salty water to play with the wet sand. It’s when your best friend saw him. The man was about twenty year old and he had a confidence that made people looked at him with curiosity — or envy. Moreover, his black swimsuit allowed the crowd to have a full view on his numerous tattoos, something that was quite rare to witness in Korea at the time. His torso, arms and back had some ink patterns here and there, without a real coherence but the whole was harmonious. 

Jungkook’s doe eyes grew bigger than normal and a whispered ‘wow’ escaped his lips. It wasn’t too hard to notice his admiration and the fact was confirmed by the uncountable times he talked to you about ‘the cool drawings’ the following days. Annoyed by his sudden lack of attention to your sand construction, you slammed his arm and yelled at him to focus.

And thirteen years later, here you are.

You should have known your best friend enough to know that he would, one day, get a tattoo on his own. Somewhat you hoped he’d wait a little longer as an unconscious fear — of this decoration on his body changing his personality — has been growing bigger and bigger even since he share the date of his appointment.

“You know that your mom is going to kill you, right?”

Your remark provokes a laugh from your best friend. You know that there is no point in trying to convince him right now, as Jungkook has been bawling about getting a tattoo for months, strategically waiting for his nineteenth birthday to finally put ink on his skin. It’s not that you don’t think he hasn’t thought seriously about it but you know him: sometimes, he tends to make decision too quickly and you’re afraid he’ll regret. 

“With the look in your eyes, I feel like it’s you who’s going to kill me” He teases you, his wide bunny smile on his adorable face 

You sigh as you don’t understand how chill he is about such a big commitment while you, a mere witness, are stressing. A lot. 

“Kook”

“I know, I know” He reassures you — just like he is able to read your mind — and wraps his arm around your shoulders “I swear I’m not going to change my mind. And it’s just a tiny tattoo, I’ll stop after that”

You both know that he won’t — and the future will give you right. You throw him a doubtful glance but how can you resist his cute pout? You cannot. And Jungkook knows it way too well. 

You don’t have time to argue as the tattoo artist steps in the small and dark room you’ve been waiting. He calls out your best friend’s name and a single look at him tells you how excited he is. Just to see him as happy makes all your worries vanish and in one second, you don’t care if Jungkook decides to cover his whole body with black ink if it means he’ll get to smile like that. 

“You wanna come with me?” He offers right before entering the room at the back

You hesitate but finally accept in case Jungkook would like to squeeze your hand if the pain is too much. Yet, you regret when you move the black curtain away and discover a dark room filled with a chair similar to the one in medical centers, a small stool with wheels and a table full of small cup of inks — black, blue, red, pink and every other colors. The walls are covered with sketches and the skull ones are terrifying, sending shivers down your spine. 

“You want one?” The tattoo artist asks you when he notices you are looking at his art pieces 

You have no problem admitting his talent, yet you absolutely don’t want a skull on your skin! You are quick to shake your head and take place next to your best friend who has taken off his shirt. You are trying your best not to look at his defined torso, not that you haven’t seen it already anyway given your numerous afternoons at the beach but Jungkook has been hitting the gym very diligently lately and well… he is hot — and this is a thought that you should absolutely not have about your best friend so you choose to focus on the material the tattoo artist is preparing. 

Jungkook and the tattoo artist talk for a while, trying to find the right spot and size for the tattoo and they finally settle for the junction between the shoulder and the biceps. With that, Jungkook is pleased to lay down. 

“Are you okay?” He asks and you suddenly feel stupid: you should be the one asking 

“Are you?” You reply 

“Yep!” He exclaims, offering you one of his reassuring smiles 

The tattoo artist informs your best friend that he is going to start and the buzz sound of the machine fills the room. You are watching with attention his movements, trying to detect any unusual thing — just like you knew anything about tattoos. You just want to take care of Jungkook, he is your best friend, that’s normal. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to care at all about the needle in his skin. He is looking at you with an amused smile, especially when you wince as the tattoo artist stretch out a spot to apply more ink.

“Can I hold your hand?” Jungkook asks you

You immediately squeeze his fingers, worried that he is in pain. 

“Does it hurt a lot?” You can’t help but question 

“Yes”

Your heart tightens in your chest. However, Jungkook is not in pain at all — he only feels a mere tickling on his skin. He can’t even explain why he lied. He simply noticed that he has looked for any opportunity to hold your hand lately. Maybe it’s just because he is stressed about leaving Busan to head to the capital with you, afraid that something will change between you two, that you won’t be as close as before even if you attend the same university. 

You bring Jungkook out of his thoughts when you gently pat his head, trying to soothe the imaginary pain away. 

“I swear I won’t tell anyone if you cry” You whisper to him, deadly serious

If Jungkook didn’t want to expose his lie, he would have scoffed to that. Instead, he nods and thanks you. Actually, his gratitude is real: he does feel lucky to have you by his side. He knows that you are always here for him, even when he is in trouble. And most importantly, you are always here when he faces a new important step in his life. 

You stay for a few hours next to him, holding his hand, caressing his head from time to time when you notice that the tattoo artist insists on one particular spot. What you don’t notice is that your best friend has not once looked at the tattoo artist: his eyes were left on you. He can’t explain — neither does he want to. He just wants to appreciate your presence next to him while he is taking such a big decision as marking his skin for life. 

Turning off the machine, the tattoo artist states that he is done and he invites Jungkook to look at the artwork in the mirror. At this moment you realize that you were so focused on your best friend’s well being that you didn’t really look at the tattoo itself. 

You try to tilt your head, contorting your upper body to have a peak too but Jungkook’s body is way too imposing for that. It’s only when Jungkook says that he is very satisfied and turns around that you finally get to see the freshly made tattoo and your eyes grow big. 

“Kook” You whisper, breathless 

“You like it?” 

Jungkook notices that he really, really wishes that you do. Growing up, he’s learned not to bother about people’s opinions but you, it’s not the same. It’s not that he is seeking for your approval but he knows that he is disappointed with himself when he disappoints you. Equally, he tends to like something more if you like it too. And for this tattoo, his first tattoo, he truly hopes that you like it as it is very important for him. 

“It’s… stunning!” You say after trying to find the right word but you are too moved for that 

The ink piece is very delicate, objectively very beautiful but what touches you so much is the pattern: a crane. The top of its head is red, just like the one saw with Jungkook when you were young. It is one of your most previous memories. The winter of your five years old, your and Jungkook’s parents took you to the mountains. It was the first time you saw snow and you were so excited that you couldn’t sleep the first night. You spent hours looking through the window, watching the tiny snowflakes falling from the sky. At some point, a huge white bird appeared and landed close to the window. You wanted to wake up your parents so they could see but you were afraid to make too much noise and scare the bird away. And when you turned your head to spot anyone with whom you could share the show, Jungkook was there, all sleepy. You guested that he wanted to go the bathroom and you whispered-yelled his name, urging him to join you but in silence. Your best friend was amazed, just like you. His black doe eyes were so wide and shiny that you could almost see the reflection of the crane in them and, for the first time, you found your best friend very cute. You watched the crane together, elbows touching each other’s, until it flew away. The next day, you told the story to your parents but they didn’t believe you, stressing that cranes only come rarely to Korea and even less in winter. Since then, the crane was like a secret between Jungkook and you, a precious, almost intimate moment you two shared together outside the rest of the world. 

“I don’t even know what to say, Kook, it’s just… perfect” You add with tears in your eyes and reaching out to squeeze his hand to share your gratefulness to have immortalized this ephemeral and secret instant

“I think it was the most magical moment of my life, and it was with you. It’s always with you, Y/N” Jungkook says with a voice thick of emotion “Thank you for coming with me today” 

Read "Steal My Girl" Drabble here

I'm sorry for being inactive, this is just a little something to thank you for your patience 🩷

[thanosscross]

My Darling - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader part 3

Summary: After weeks of thinking of ways to wrap up your tour, your boyfriend has the perfect idea, making your last show for tour a lot more memorable and less stressful

Warnings: None

Life couldn't be any better for you and your boyfriend, you hadn't fully made it official, but you and Seung Hyun agreed to stay committed to each other, which you were both fine with. As the months passed, so did your tour dates, getting closer and closer to your last show which started to weigh on you.

"Jagi..What's going on?" Seung Hyun asked as he walked into your shared home, you were only home for a few days before you had to leave again, so your boyfriend tried his best to be as present as possible while still keeping to his schedule "I can't think of anything for my last show! I need something big but I can't think of anything other than releasing the song we made, but I don't want everybody to think there's gonna be another album before the end of tour" You frowned looking at the spread of screens in front of you tiredly massaging your temples. Seung Hyun thought after that up until the day you had to leave, smiling at you with his adorable smile as he waited for you at the door "What're you doing?" You laughed raising your eyebrow at him "I was thinking... You know..You've really been helping me rebuild my reputation..And you're always there to make sure the critics aren't too harsh..so what if for your last show, we both release our single" He offered, you furrowed your eyebrows dropping your bags "Seriously? Seung Hyun, if you're serious that's amazing you feel ready again!" You cheered hugging him tightly "As long as I have you, I've got this" He smiled softly "So, I've got everything packed, lil guy is with your sister so he's being taken care of in doggy paradise, we are free to tour the road" He smiled, picking your bags up taking them to the car that was outside waiting, Seung Hyun smiled at your body guard nodding "Good morning" He smiled, happy to be able to see you more.

Rehearsal was hard on you, you weren't expecting your award shows performances to be demanding, and yet you were more worn out than you had ever been. Looking at the clock you groaned, only twenty minutes before you had to be back on stage to do it all for real. Looking towards backstage you offered your poor boyfriend a sad smile, feeling bad he had to sit back and watch you work for the next two shows.

They flew by rather quickly, leaving you in your hotel room the night before your last show, pacing the hotel floor nervous about every possible outcome, your boyfriend almost mimicking your behavior with his own worries. You jumped as you heard shouting and your body guard slide into the room holding the door shut "M-Ma'am, do you know a Ji-Yong, or G-Dragon? He says he knows the both of you" He asked, you tilted your head looking at Seung Hyun, watching his expression change through different emotions "Yea let him in" You replied resting a hand on Seung Hyun's chest as a form of comfort "Seung Hyun!" Ji-Yong shouted rushing in "Is it true? Are you really coming back to k-pop?" He asked rushing to his friend "He's not sure, we're taking it slow" You smiled softly extending your hand sweetly "Y/n l/n" You offered, he smiled stopping to shake your hand "it's so nice to meet you! I'm Ji-Yong, Seung Hyun's friend" He introduced, you shook his hand gently, glancing back to Seung Hyun "Y-Yea, Y/n's been a huge help with trying to restore my name back home" He explained nervously, you smiled, letting the two talk and catch up while you went to do you pre-show routine. Hearing your call you quickly moved to your mark on stage taking a deep breath as you started the show.

It'd be a full hour before Seung Hyun finally got his call, you stood in the center of the stage panting trying to catch your breath from the last show as the crowd slowly quieted down you lifted the microphone up "This next part..I know it will be hard, But I need you to contain yourselves, because he's-" As soon as the pronoun left your mouth the crowd erupted again, you nerves vanishing whenever you heard Seung's chuckle in your ear piece, knowing he was getting his microphone and ear pieces hooked up you knew you had to be quick. "-He's a little nervous about this, but we're excited to show you what we've been so busy working on.." You smirked turning around to face the entry and exit to the stage along with the giant big screen that was currently showing the same entry you were watching as the intro to your song started to play. "T.o.p is back, baby!" Seung's voice played over the track, having to cover your ears for a moment from the screaming echoing off of the walls you missed Seung rushing out on stage waving as the track cut out for a moment, letting the crowd process what was going on first. As Seung Hyun snapped out of his trance he made his way to you, wrapping his arm around you leaning close "Are you okay?" He asked softly, you nodded softly smiling at him "Yea, Wasn't expecting everybody to be that loud, but what can I say, everybody loves T.O.P!" You said shouting the last part into the microphone, he just chuckled shaking his head as he got into his mark.

Preforming with you was different than it was performing with BigBang, it was less people on stage, all of the attention was just on you and him, it was scary but at the same time he missed the feeling so bad, and as of right now, everybody seemed happy he was there. As Seung Hyun started his verse you made sure to circle around him, dancing overdramatically to his lyrics, along with adding in random back up vocals, your only goal was to make sure everybody had fun during the show, including Seung Hyun. He quickly turned his body to started moving towards you as you started to rap with him, staring him down as you both went faster and faster before you ended up stumbling over your words laughing loudly. You were quick to realize you wouldn't be able to end the show so soon after bringing Seung Hyun out, so of course you encouraged him to perform some of his songs with you, knowing both you and the fans would love it.

As Zutter started to play, you gasped sprinting across the stage, watching your boyfriend playfully hump the air to the lyrics "T.o.p! We are a PG show!" You giggled into the microphone, He just raised his microphone up making direct eye contact "Sorry, Jegi" He smiled, you just blushed running off to the other side of him "continue on! But PG!" You laughed, watching him from your spot as he preformed, almost like it was second nature to him, Seung Hyun always make sure to occasionally make eye contact with you as a silent way of letting you know he was okay. You watched him preform quietly until the final song started to play, Knock out, your eyes shot over to him as the crowd screamed loudly as you raised your microphone starting to rap Ji-Yong's verse, even making an effort to spot him out to get him to help him finish the verse off. As Seung Hyun finished his part of the chorus you both stood next to each other, laughing as you matched each others movements as you sang Ji-yong's double double combo part. As Seung Hyun started again, you followed him down the stage, mimicking his movements, freezing anytime he looked back, as the song approached its end, you and Seung Hyun partnered up to finish the last verse. As you finished the last word and went to strike a pose with Seung Hyun, he had already beat you to it, pulling you back to your platform that lowered you back underneath the stage to the backstage area, before cupping your cheek before raising the microphone up one last time "T.O.P, baby" he whispered before pressing his lips to yours, you giggled as the platform lowered and the crowd screamed loudly. Once you were under the stage and your microphones were off you looked at Seung Hyun squealing "That was so fun!" You giggled hugging him tightly "Thank you" He whispered, hugging you back gently "For what?" you asked, he just shook his head "Helping me so much..for seeing I'm still a person beyond my past mistakes" He whispered, holding your hands tightly "Of course, I'll always be there for you, Seung Hyun..I promise" You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling him towards to stairs to take you backstage "Now come on! I took the liberty of making us an after party!" You smiled excited, you watched his face fall "I'm sorry, baby..I just..Don't feel like going out tonight" he frowned, you just smiled pulling him to your dressing room, which was decorated slightly, the only difference being the three men sitting in your dressing room excitedly waiting for the person they saw as an older brother for so long.

"What's this?" He asked cluelessly, you just shook your head "I figured, your comeback is a big thing, and the only family you really talked about celebrating with after shows was the boys, and your sisters family..So..Your sister can't make it till tomorrow night, so You'll get a night with the boys, and a weekend with all of your family" You smiled, turning to face him, Seung Hyun just hugged you tightly, trying to hide his tears, just in the few months you had been together, you had done so much for him, in his own interest, not your own, and it was one of the reasons he was starting to fall in love with you.

--

You like?

--

Taglist!!

@ag022123

@acehasmyheart

[spiderfunkz]

SEND YOU MY LOVE ON A WIRE!

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

cw. fluff, reader is alternative and plays the bass, no games au.

author's note: guys i don't know anything about instruments okay💔💔 i'm not sure if i did justice for this one, my knowledge for the subculture is very limited but i tried my best.

wandering through the streets of seoul late at night wasn't exactly the plan for cho hyun-ju.

after a long day at work, all she wanted to do was to eat at her favorite restaurant. she could already imagine sipping on the warm hearty soup. unfortunately though, the place was closed for the rest of the week.

now she has found herself staring into the window of a local pub. the music playing gave her a sense of nostalgia and starstruck-ness. the tunes brought a small wave of relief to hyun-ju, no matter how loud it was, it felt empowering.

a band was putting on a show there. hyun-ju was mesmerized by the melody, the genuine emotions it stirred, and also the cute bassist.

but to her luck the band stopped playing rather abruptly.

a rush of muttering and soon shouting came along with it. the band left the pub silently, walking towards the old van parked nearby.

the bassist followed behind them.

this could be the time to start a conversation with her, hyun-ju thinks, she could come up with many topics. it has been a long day, some small talk with a girl couldn't hurt, right?

"excuse me?" her hands awkwardly fidgeted, she wonders if you were even in the mood to talk. her worries were soon brushed off as she was met with a friendly smile.

"hi!" the light reflected on you, hyun-ju noticed your makeup. it looks flawless, everything seemed to compliment your features very well.

"could i help you with something?" your voice was just as angelic as the singer— well, you were in a band, that talent must've lingered for all the members.

hyun-ju's mouth began talking faster than her head could comprehend it, "is it okay if i ask why you stopped playing in there?"

you laugh, "oh yeah, i guess the guy, owner, whatever- was expecting we play something.. softer? i don't know. i'm assuming he didn't read the list of songs we were gonna play."

hyun-ju nods, "i thought it was really nice."

"the guy thought otherwise," you shrug.

"you played very well there, i only heard a bit of it. but you looked very skilled." hyun-ju's voice made it sound like it was more of a statement. she was genuinely in awe of your talent.

"i'm just the bassist, credits should be given to the guitarist or singer if anything."

"but the bass ties it together, no? it controls the rhythm and pace, i think it enhances the tune of the song you were playing," hyun-ju smiles, she hopes she doesn't sound too sheepish or weird, "you brought a nice sense of energy and aura."

her words definitely struck a chord with you.

"what's your name, pretty?" your words caught the woman off guard, "oh, hyun-ju, cho hyun-ju."

"well, hyun-ju, do you want to grab a drink with me?"

"what about your band?" she gestures to the van that has been waiting for you this entire time, "i can handle it. they won't mind too much, besides, we're not gonna play anything else tonight."

hyun-ju nods, excited.

"okay then, i know a spot."

you motion to the van to leave without you, the bass still strapped on your back. hyun-ju's eyes focused on you before giving a small wave to the van driving away.

hyun-ju was wrong. wandering the streets of seoul late at night was the perfect plan. to meet someone as talented and gorgeous as you, she was able to ease off for the night. forgetting all the worries that laced her thoughts earlier today.

the night felt more lively than ever. you got to tell her many things, such as; your love for alternative rock, how you eventually learned the bass, how you met your friends slash bandmates, and how you discovered yourself through the art of music. you got to share your views and perspectives, your makeup routine, your favorite places to play at— hyun-ju listened to every single word that came out of you.

you noticed it. "say, hyun-ju, would you like to go out sometime? grab another drink maybe, or go to a place of your choice?"

"i would love to."

"okay then," you grab a piece of paper and pen hidden in your pocket, you had this planned all along, did you?

"here, give me a call, pretty."

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Unplanned

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: High school sweethearts having the best time of their life, when everything seems so perfect. But sometimes, things don’t go as we plan them.

Warnings: angst, unwanted pregnancy, some curse words, a bit of sadness (but it gets better, I promise!)

A/N: I had a dream earlier this week, so it’s based on it. I don’t know how I feel about it (I read it nearly ten times, it’s fine, I guess.), personally I don’t think that George would act like he did in the beginning of this fic, so take it as a part of the plot. I have some ideas for possible part two, but who knows if I make it happen.

Please don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

———

Young and naive love, that’s all they’ve always said when they saw you and George intertwined with each other every time you walk through the paddock. Meeting at high school, you knew he was the one, and his thing about racing, it was something that attracted you even more.

You always loved to ruffle his hair before the driver’s parade, just to make him grumpy, because he spent so much time fixing his wave of golden brown locks. The way he could make you smile, his warm embrace giving you peace and comfort, the days you enjoyed in the countryside with your families because your parents simply knew each other.

It was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

George’s move to F1 was sure, his dreams coming true, he couldn’t be more happy and motivated to push himself to the limits more. On the other hand, you just found out the horrible thing.

Walking through the paddock in Brazil, you fought the nausea, as you held onto George’s hand. You tried to tell him, but you were interrupted by someone or something every time. He noticed your strange behaviour, your pale face.

“Are you well, love?” He suddenly stopped to get a better look at you, leaning down closer to you.

This was your only chance to say it. “George, I’m pregnant.”

Your whispered words nearly gave him a heart attack.

“You’re- what?”

“You heard me. I don’t want to yell it here.” Your hand went to his cheek, the warmth of his skin seeping into your palm, bringing you comfort for your nerves.

George just stood there, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. He grabbed your hand only to push it from his face away.

“We’re gonna talk about this later. I need to focus on the race.”

Your heart broke in your chest. Yeah, you thought just for a moment that he would be happy. But it was far from ideal.

———

George was pacing around the hotel room, while you sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with your fingers.

“How could it happen? We were so careful, you on the pill and we were using protection.. how?”

“That time in the summer, when I was sick and taking antibiotics, that night on the yacht, when we weren’t sober..”

“Holy shit…”

“George, look, I know it’s not easy, it’s not perfect timing right now, but we can do it.”

“Are you crazy? We’re twenty. You can’t be serious about this.”

“What? So you want to give it up? Get rid of it?”

George pinched the bridge of his nose, getting frustrated and hopeless.

“I can’t take care of the baby now. I’m gonna drive in F1 next season, it’s a big thing for me and I’m not ready to be a father. I don’t have an energy for the act of loving family.”

That was enough for you to bring you to the tears. Your hand went down at your stomach, sign of protective love for the small bundle growing inside you.

George hasn’t single clue what to do in that moment. He just stared into the wall, his mind blank, feeling like his world just shattered.

“I’m sorry I can’t fit into your image of fairytale life.”

And with that he walked out of the hotel room.

Also it was a very last moment he saw you for a very very long time…

———

“George and babies! What a cute sight!”

“He should be a dad! Baby suits him!”

“Make him a daddy already!”

“Oh, what a father figure!”

You did a great job for those past six years to be away from media and spotlight. After that day you saw George last, you never looked back. Maybe it was selfish. But his opinion on the situation was clear. He didn’t want a baby.

“Mom, I said that I have to pee. Are you listening to me?”

The voice of your son William interrupted your thoughts, while you were scrolling through your instagram for the first time in the past years. Brushing your annoyance by those comments aside, you looked at Will with soft smile.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. I’ll wait here for you, just go to the restrooms there.” You pointed to the direction and Will just rushed there.

When he was about four years old, he came across the idea of karting. You were strictly against it, but after his teacher in the kindergarten was done with his ultimate rant about formula and racing, you just took him to the first lesson and that was a start. Yeah, of course you were scared, not much about George possibly finding out, spotting you, but about Will’s safety. But you cannot expect someone with strong racing genes to be interested in being a scientist.

While you were waiting for your son to come back, you haven’t noticed the buzz around the circuit, signalling the famous person appearing around. You grabbed small helmet and looked at it with soft smile, brushing your thumb over it.

“Mom! You need to see this! Mom! C’mon!”

Will was calling you from the small group of kids, his voice full of excitement and joy. You raised your brows with amused smile, when he was excited about something, he just couldn’t brush it off.

As you took a few steps closer to him, you were curious about what was everybody so ecstatic about.

“That’s George Russell, mom!”

At that name your blood ran cold. Oh no.

“Will, how do you know him?”

“Jeez mom, everybody around knows him! He used to race here as a kid. He’s cool!”

Well, it was inevitable.

Her eyes carefully found George, seeing him interacting with the youngsters. He looked good, more mature and composed. Also his hairstyle was different, giving him a manly touch. Wrinkles around his eyes were still the same, but more apparent, when he smiled. And his eyes.. god, they were the same mesmerising blue colour.

Will left her standing there, getting through the small crowd of kids, to get his signature from him.

“Mr. Russell? George. Can you please sign this? You’re my inspiration.”

His small teeth appearing in grin as he gave George his cap. George’s eyes fell onto him, smiling cheerfully as he signed the cap.

“Just call me George, I’m not much formal person, when it comes to kids. I want to be friendly, because I know how exciting is to meet your idol.”

William’s eyes were glowing with happiness as he held the now signed cap.

“You’re amazing! Thank you.”

George smiled at the boy, watching him running to his mom. It was strange, because he looked familiar. His smile faded as he saw you, looking down at the boy with proud smile.

“Mom! I’m so happy, look!”

Will was excited, nearly jumping on the spot from it.

“I never saw you this happy. Guess it was worth it.” You smiled at him, ruffling his hair.

Without another look at George, you walked to prepare Will for karting session. You thought that he hasn’t noticed you.

George stood afar, watching the kids getting ready, but giving his main attention to you and your son. Will was already giving you hard time with his rolling eyes, sighs and “of course, mom”. While you wore your worried face, furrowing brows there and there, kissing him on his forehead and then fastening his small helmet securely.

When the session started, you moved to the sidelines, watching the circuit with heavy heart and tightness in chest.

“He’s a natural talent, I must say.”

The well known deep voice made you froze in place, your palms sweaty and your throat dry. Carefully, you turned to look at George.

“He is. I can’t keep him calm for a moment straight.”

Trying to hold your voice steady, you looked back at the track. George took a place beside her, doing the same.

“It’s been a long time.”

The ridiculous situation made you chuckle.

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“Yeah, me too.”

The silence between you was thick as hell. Both of you had your own reels of thoughts in your minds.

“I often thought about meeting you again one day. What would I say to you. And I’m saying I’m sorry.”

You lifted your gaze at him, feeling surprised but somehow deeply satisfied.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I was a total jerk back then. I should’ve acted more like an adult, I hurt you.”

The pain of the past years hit you like a train, while you just nodded.

“It’s strange seeing you happy now. You’re a caring mom, from what I saw. I guess the father must be proud too.”

That was the moment you snorted a little, making him confused.

“Look, George… I… I’m sorry too. We were young and it was a little selfish from me to want you to take responsibility.”

“We should’ve talk about it more that day. It’s one of the few things I regret in my life.”

“Well… I’m sorry that I disappeared. But I was so sad, hurt and scared, that I was sure that I need to do things alone. And I did a damn good job.”

George frowned a little, turning his head to look at you.

“William is six years old by the way.”

You said with sigh, locking your eyes with his. At first he didn’t understand. Then, it clicked in his brain. Pointing to track and gasping in shock, his eyes went wide. You just nodded.

Silence was deafening, while George collapsed at the nearby bench, sitting there speechless.

“William? You named him William?”

You took a seat beside him with soft hum.

“Holy fuck. I’m so shocked.”

“I’m sorry. You would find out sooner or later. And now I’ll be a fool. Fooling you, my parents, your parents, but mostly Will. I told him that his father and I broke up before his birth. He didn’t question it.”

George shook violently, running his hands through his hair.

“You kept this for yourself for many years. You kept the baby. Oh my god.. I missed so much. Six years.”

“I loved you and it hurt, I hadn’t had the heart to get an abortion. And I don’t regret that decision.”

He took your hand in his, the distant warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, making you smile.

“I want to be present in his life. I want to get to know him, to give him everything I could. I want to be a father I should’ve been.”

Your smile grew wide, tears glistening in your eyes.

“Sure, but it’ll take time. I need to reveal it to him carefully. I might be on the black list for a while, but he’d be over the moon, that George Russell is his dad.”

George let out a soft laugh, his voice shaky.

“I’ll take any time in the world. I’ll make it worth it. I won’t disappoint him. I won’t disappoint you.”

[idstilldancewithu]

Forbidden Request | S.R

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Hotchner Reader

Summary: Spencer Reid always thought of every single outcome of his actions, but he did not, when Y/N Hotchner showed up to his door asking for something he couldn't refuse.

Warnings: Talks about being a prude, reader ask Spencer to take her virginity away (kind of) but doesn’t confess her feelings towards him and tells him to do her a favor as a friend, sitting on Reid’s lap, and age gap (20/30). Sorry if I accidentally missed anything.

A/N: Hi! This is the first time posting any of my work. English is not my first language. I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes. I’m still debating whether or not I should turn this into a series, but I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 938

Part 1 | Part 2

•••

I could feel my heartbeat thumping in my chest, my hands shaking from anticipation as I knocked on Spencer's door, waiting for him to answer.

He opened the door with a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Y/N, is everything alright? Did something happen?" He worriedly asked opening the door wider signaling me to come in.

I walked towards the couch seeing files spread all over the table and books all over the floor. "I'm sorry for the mess. I didn't think I would have any company over."

I shook my head placing my hands in between my thighs. "It's ok and I'm really sorry for showing up unannounced."

He quickly shook his head, smiling reassuring me that he didn't mind. Spencer sat beside me and began stacking up the files in the table trying to clean up. "Do you want anything to drink?" He looked up at me.

"No thank you. Actually, I have to ask you something."

"Yes, of course what is it?" He moved closer to me placing his hand in mine.

Which is something he did every time I was anxious and needed comfort. I was his only exception, because he wouldn't do that with anyone else being a germaphobe. But, it always made my day better. That's why he let his walls down and made his brain stop thinking about the germs that could be transmitted through holding someone's hand.

His boss always failed to notice my state because, over the years having to grow up with a dad who was a profiler, I had to learn to lie and put on a facade when I was around him.

But, Spencer always noticed. No matter what I was hiding, he would always find out. Which is why once I would leave his office, Spencer would walk me out to the elevator.

Once the door closed, he would hold my hand, giving me much needed comfort.

I layed my head on his shoulder as he traced different shape on my hand. "Do you remember the boy I was going out with?"

"Yes, Jeremy Miller he goes to your college, and is majoring in law and criminal justice. He's twenty years old and asked you out a month ago, and you agreed. You also said the boy I was going out with. What happened? Did you break up?"

"Sometimes I forget you have an eidetic memory." I chuckled, trying to ease the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach.

"But, yes he broke up with me. Apparently he thinks I'm a prude, because I didn't want to go further than making out with him. Like, who even says that word anymore?" He squeezed my hand lightly.

"You deserve better than him Y/N and you're not a prude." He quickly reassured me again placing his hand on my chin making me look at him.

"He's not worth your time or attention. Do you understand?"

I nodded in response. "He's wasn't lying though. Spence, I've never gone farther than making out, and I'm twenty years old."

"Pretty girl, there's nothing wrong with that. The first time I did anything with a girl was when I was twenty four. Trust me there's no rush."

The nickname made my heart skip a beat. He had never called me that only Morgan did.

But coming from him, it only encouraged me to ask what I've been meaning to this whole time.

"Spence, can you change that?" He let go of my hand, and moved further from me his cheeks turning red.

"What? Y/N I'm..." I interrupted him.

"I'm tired of guys breaking up with me, because I can't bring myself to sleep with them. Just because I'm terrified of not being good enough. I'm also tired of telling guys that I'm a virgin, and them making it their mission to be the one to change that, like I'm some sort of task."

I got closer to him and placed my hand in his like he had done with me minutes prior.

"I trust you, Spencer. You're my friend, and I wouldn't want anyone else to do this with. I'm not asking you to be my boyfriend." He didn't respond but never let his gaze wonder anywhere else but my eyes.

"I'm asking you as a friend to help me. But I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I totally understand if you say no, and you want us to forget that his conversation ever happened."

I remained silent letting him process everything that I told him, my heart beating faster than before. But, I could already hear his kind rejection making my chest tighten.

Leaving me to wonder how I could ever get over him. The guy that I've loved since I was eighteen.

But I was tired of only being able to imagine how his hands would feel on my body, and biting my lip everything time I would touch myself to the thought of him.

Even thought, this could only happen once. I was willing to risk our friendship, and my pride to get to feel his lips on mine.

I got up, understanding that his silence meant no. As I began walking away, he spoke up.

"Wait Y/N, come here."

He placed his hands on his lap and patted it. I took that as a sign to sit on his lap. Once I did, he wrapped his hands around my waist pulling me closer to him.

Spencer tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "How could I ever say no to you pretty girl?" He whispered filling my body with excitement.

•••

Part 1 | Part 2

[xia0mi-c0m]

The proshipping problem in the twst fandom | A rant.

Very obvious trigger warning for things normal for proshippers like p3dophilia, incest, etc.

Though I do know proshippers will be in every single fandom, it's getting especially worse in the twst fandom, specifically the Japanese side of the fandom (with some discussions about some in the English side too).

Before any proshippers come into the comment section: Proshipping is NOT a healthy coping mechanism. If your therapist recommended it, they should be fired.

This post is not to dehumanize and degrade underage proshippers as they have been obviously groomed into believing that it was okay to ship this sort of stuff.

The actual elephant in the room we WILL be shunning is the adult proshippers who actively encourage children (either actually or under law) to proship.

Before getting fully deep in this subject, I would like to admit something that I've talked about before.

I was a proshipper when I was younger than what I am now. This was because, not getting into too much detail, I was groomed by a man online to the point that i thought it was okay.

Not only was I a proshipper but I was also a darkshipper, problematic comshipper, and also supported the things present in Dead Dove fanfics.

In fact, I had an account on some sort of forum page with other proshippers and I shared my nasty ships there. I believed it was a good way of desensitizing myself to my trauma that fucked me up heavily, but it wasn't and it was making me relive the same trauma which in return, made it worse.

This is why I say that I do not want anyone to shun underage proshippers, they were groomed into it half of the time.

Now that I'm 18 (About to turn 19 on February 14th), I finally understand that proshipping is an unhealthy way of approaching your trauma and pain.

It may feel like it does something, but it really doesn't. And I want to reassure you that you're not alone in your pain, please, find other ways to cope and process what has happened to you that doesn't include glorifying very nasty things.

Now with that out the way, I would like to say what the title says.

Proshippers in the twst fandom has sadly grown overtime, but my niece made a very good point; stating that since twst does have a slightly dark story, that people with dark and nasty thoughts and ideas will be attracted to it, much like a moth to a flame that damages it's already fragile body.

There have been adults in the twst proshipper area, and I think they're the main cause of fueling minors in the fandom to do the same thing. Maybe with or without knowing the eventual psychological consequences.

The adults who are aware sadly lure and prey on the gullible underage individuals of the fandom, and though that might seem like an overexaggeration; it sadly is true.

I am Japanese, well, half-Japanese. But even then, due to that fact, I'm more prevalent in the Japanese fandom than the English fandom though I am trying to balance out both.

Since I am more present in the Japanese side of the fandom than I am with the English side (because I'm basically like an absent dad that went off to get the milk and never came back until years), I have seen a lot of shit in here and it's very scary even to this day.

Though the English side of the fandom is as equally bad, the Japanese side is worse with the whole l0li and sh0ta thing. Sadly I have seen English twst accounts do those things too.

The most popular proshipper you may know is Ugigi or however the fuck you spell her name, whether one likes to admit it or not, her selfships were very much proshipping. This is mainly due to how her OC could've been her actual age which was in her 20s if I'm remembering correctly.

But let's say the OC wasn't, it would still be problematic (but not in the proship way) since the characters she drew NSFW of were mainly the minors (again, if I remember correctly). If her OC was her actual age then she would be a proshipper.

However, watever the age of the OC she always drew, it's obvious that it was still leaning more on proshipping because that indicates that she's attracted to the characters despite knowing they're minors (and not even aging them up by the way).

So, very nasty, I was thinking of putting her In the TWs 😭

All jokes aside, proshipping is disgusting.

In fact, must I bring up any other thing?

LEECHCEST.

WHAT.

Well, you heard that right, people ship Floyd and Jade. Seriously, what is wrong with you guys. And I think I know why this ship is so popular in the Japanese fandom; The fact incest is not necessarily illegal in Japan in a way.

Yeah. You heard me correctly. I'm horrified and scarred for life <3

"Surely there isn't anymore I shall talk about, right? Right?? RIGHT?!?" I exclaim, not expecting anything else to come from the sky and hit me.

Then boom..

SHROUDCEST.

OH FUCK NOT AGAIN.

So, apparently people ship a dead robotic little boy with his big brother.. yeah... FNAF fandom called, they're telling you not to steal their bit much like how Deejus is trying to tell Johnny RaZeR not to steal his "YOUTUBEEE" outro bit that.. he also stole.

It can't get any worse than this, right? This is definitely the last tier of the iceberg, surely? Perhaps??-

KINGSCHOLARCEST.

Okay, now we're pushing it, this bit is getting old but whatever.

Kingscholarcest can refer to three (disgusting) "ships": A nasty ship of Cheka x Leona, a nasty ship of Falena x Leona, or a nasty ship of Falena x Leona x Cheka.

Sweet home Alabama all around but more extreme..

I think we all know why these ships are not okay and are disgusting (ESPECIALLY CHEKA X LEONA SINCE CHEKA IS A GOO GOO GA GA BABY.)

Finally.. It's over.. I can go back to ranting!-

FELLOW X GIDEL.

JESUS CHRIST STOP.

This madness needs to stop because if not I'm going to pull my fucking hair out!-

LILMAL, SILVER X LILIA, S-

OKAY STOP IT RIGHT HERE,, THE BIT IS OLD NOW.

So, I think you get my point.

Borderline incestuous ships, the drake specialty, and straight up sweet home right to Alabama.

Now, let's put aside the jokes and get serious again.

With all the things I have stated, you can definitely see the absolute horror of some parts of the fandom.

There's accounts that are VERY hypocritical, saying "P3dos DNI" when they are a sh0ta/l0licon. This is the literal definition of hypocrisy at it's finest.

There are mfs who have unironically said that Cheka was hot and romantically cute.. HE'S 7 YEARS OLD. OR MAYBE YOUNGER. I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER BUT I DO KNOW HE IS A CHILD.

I have said this MANY times before and I'll say it again; if that characters looks like a child, THEY ARE A CHILD.

Even if you age up characters like Ortho, Cheka, etc. You are still self-reporting that you're attracted to a literal child.

Fiction DOES affect reality no matter if you try to plug your mickey mouse ears with your fingers (or paws, I don't know) to gaslight yourself into believing it doesn't truly affect it.

In fact, there have been cases where people have been arrested for having l0li/sh0ta on their devices, though, sadly, its not a long sentence despite how it should be lifelong.

But even without the lifelong sentence, the law still considers l0li/sh0ta CSAM. (I hate calling it CP now since that implies that kids can do that in their own will.)

A grown adult proshipper even told me when I criticized Kanna from dragon maid for being a little girl the author sexualizes to no end all because I said that she doesn't have a listed age that I was being "contradicting" and I think this proves that.. proshippers DON'T know what contradictions ACTUALLY are because they've gaslit so much into believing this disgusting behavior is normal and okay to do.

And don't get me started on Dead Dove cai, chai, etc. bots and fanfics.

Dead Dove, proshipping, problematic comshipping, darkshipping, doveshipping, etc. doesn't give out awareness to the horrors of such depraved acts.

Another very nasty thing I've seen in the TWST fandom is people shipping the staff with the students, mainly Crewel with Deuce.

Teacher x Student is disgusting no matter what. Teachers are always more grown than the students, so yeah, teachers aren't the anime boy or girl of your dreams or something, he or she's going to be old and otherwise not "attractive" and young.

The training to become a teacher and any profession in fact will take years, which means you'll grow and turn old.

I understand many say "Well, it's just fiction!" but these people seem to forget that young individuals, especially young girls, can see these teacher x student fiction and will probably, in the worst case scenario, get the wrong impression from it, ESPECIALLY if the media glamorizes and romanticize it, and sadly become a victim.

Crewel, If I'm not wrong, is 31 meanwhile Deuce and the other first years that [Crewel] mainly gets shipped with are 16 years old.

This is not only a disgusting, vomit-inducing age gap but huge maturity gap whether one likes to admit so or not.

Yanderes especially in the twst fandom get romanticized, and people seem to forget the reality of the abuse that yanderes put their "love interest(s)" through.

And I think this is why fandoms (not just twst) should stop romanticizing yanderes and student x teacher, and vice versa.

Besides, these two tropes are grooming even if the victim is not a minor, adults and the elderly alike can also be groomed especially if they're gullible and need to depend on someone (for either a disability or something).

People will probably invalidate my point but I don't budge from what I said.

Sorry if this posts looks rushed and/or maybe even incoherent to some, I just wanted to get this off my chest and stuff.

I should start ranting more, I like yapping so yeah, expect more whenever I'm bored :3

Anyways, BAIIII!!

YOUTUBEEEEEE flies away into the void to the right

[molter-writes]

pleeeasssee miller i know you let the work stand on it's own but please tell us jsut a tad bit more about the valyerian sex magic!!!!

i meannnn

on valyrian sex magic

i am not the person to ask for the true asoiaf lore, of course; but there is obviously a pervasive source of magic across Planetos — accessible by many cultures in many different forms — and the "flavour" of the magic of each is very much a reflection, i think, of what GRRM wants us to glean about each. the Starks are themselves effectively the oldest singular consistent human organisation, if you will, that we actually meet in the books, and their magic is extremely rudimentary and primordial—they turn into animals and talk to trees. It's giving primordial man, it's giving Lucy—humanity as a symbiotic participant in (rather than an editor of) the natural world.

fast forward almost five thousand years: the valyrians are not tree hugging hunter-gatherers. they are the roman empire if the roman empire were composed of evil wizards. Their magic is dark, rooted in blood and fire—it was a tool of mind control, of asymmetric warfare, of wroth destruction. It required blood sacrifice and whips and horns and knives. It mated slave women to animals to produce grotesque chimeras. The entire thing is about the subjugation, not the embrace, of nature. Obviously until we have WoW or (lol) aDoS, we won't know—and maybe not even then—but the best prevailing theory in my view is that blood of the dragon is literal. Planetos has wyverns and, more importantly, firewyrms (flightless, firebreathing lizards) that the Valyrians almost certainly combined with human beings in some ritualistic hellcurse to produce the first dragons. this explains (1) the psychogenic bond between rider and dragon; (2) why nobody without valyrian blood can ride one; (3) the decline of the dragons correlating near-perfectly with the Andalisation (read: de-magifying) of the Targaryens; and perhaps most importantly, (4) why an animal that can fly hundreds of miles in a day would for some reason be found only on a single small isle in some random corner of a massive content that has volcanos and mountains and hot weather elsewhere. only one culture having dragons is like only one airport having planes.

much like the american NRA often asserts about guns, dragons are something of a sexual equaliser. part of why rhaenyra is so much freer than alicent when they're young is not merely because of her elevated social station (which is a principal part of it, yes) but also because she is in sole possession of one of the only six nukes in the world. At fifteen Rhaenyra possesses the power to go burn Riverrun to its foundation. I mean, if you thought Daenerys had firepower—regardless of D&D's absolute boneheaded visual mistakes in the show—Syrax is bigger than Drogon.

in any case i digress; i bring this up to make the point that while we do know valyria was a patriarchy of sorts, you can imagine a world in which a valyrian noble house would be headed (on occasion) by a woman because she is the most powerful imperial military leader because she is in command of the largest dragon. as a result, you can imagine a culture that embraces less patriarchal sexual and gender politics than do the Andals, and when take this inference a step further with the chimeras and the dragon-making and all the other frankensteinian blood magic, i just don't think it's that much of a leap to imagine that some dragon-wielding all-powerful female ruthless blood wizard in ancient Valyria decided—based on blood purity or necessity or ego or whatever—to impregnate some other woman. some maesters recorded that dragons appeared to change their sex—becoming able and unable to lay and fertilise eggs. Anyway, I just don't put genderbending and fempreg past the people who—if the theory is right—invented fucking dragons. It seems easier to do magic pregnancy than to do dragons. idk. melisandre gave birth to a shadow. nearly every ancient tradition on the planet can explore the miracle of virgin conception but we can't have lesbo baby?? why?? thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

[berryispunk]

Eres Mi Vida

pairing: Frankie Morales x gn! reader

summary: This man is your whole life. And maybe you are his, too. An argument turned into a fight and now you're here.

tags: argument, fighting, all the angst, slight mention of alcohol, mention of past addiction, mention of trauma, curse words, sprinkle of smut, spanish nicknames (mi alma, mi vida, mi amor...), established relationship, Frankie being a cute puppy, soft! Frankie, Frankie being an idiot, did i mention angst ?

notes: one of my besties imagined there's a voicemail of Frankie after an argument, so i just rolled with it.

word count: 1,2 k

You lay on your bed, face buried in the pillow. Your eyes are puffy and red from all the crying in the last hour.

How did this happen?

How could you let a man dictate your life like this? 

It would be so easy to walk away. 

Never look back, turn off your feelings like you always do.

But you can’t. 

Not this time.

He’s etched onto your heart, seeped into your soul, made a home so deep inside of you and thrown away the key, it’s impossible to simply move on.

You hate him. No, you really do.

The way he looks at you, eyes so full of warmth and genuine interest when you continuously talk about something you’re passionate about. 

He and his damn baseball cap he always claims is part of his personality. He never takes that thing off, only under the shower and in bed. It’s honestly a little disgusting.

He and his silly love for everything spicy. 

He and his cocky smirk standing in the kitchen, something you yourself hate so much, humming a melody to himself, thinking you don’t hear him but you only pretend you don’t. 

All the love he pours into every meal and it tasting good every fucking time. Even if he claimed to be a poor cook at first which is obviously a lie. His satisfied smile when you lean back into your chair and exclaim you’re full for days. 

Maybe you love him for all of these things instead?

Always showing up, never making you question his love for you even once.

The endless public displays of affection, constantly intertwining hands even when you don’t expect it, the warmth of a big hand on your lower back when he’s guiding you through crowds of people or a squeeze to your thigh under the table when you’re out with his friends, thinking nobody else will notice.

His reassuring smile whenever you feel insecure or anxious. 

He made you fall for him so fast it’s scary. The sheer intensity of your feelings for him are dangerous, because you never felt like this before. He made a huge crack in the wall you mentally built around yourself. You’ve never let someone see this unsheltered version of you and it makes you so weak. 

But it never felt like actually falling, because he was there to catch you every time. His kind, soulful eyes on you and his breath ghosting against your temple. “I’ve got you, mi vida,” when he makes you climax for the second time in a row with his skilled tongue.

And now you’re here. Crying your eyes out, your chest painfully tight with anger and hurt. 

Because even if Frankie is perfect in all the right ways, he’s equally messed up in all the wrong ways too. 

His history of addiction, his short temper, his nightmares. 

All things that scare you to no end. 

When he’s suddenly wide awake in the middle of the night, sweaty and breathing heavily, suddenly covering you to shield you from imaginary bullets, it scares you. 

It always takes some time for him to come back to reality and you holding him for a bit, raking your hand through his bed hair until he falls back asleep snuggled up so close against you there’s not a single inch of space between you. 

His temper always gets the best of him when he’s either drunk or the two of you fight. This ugly side of him rearing its head faster than you can say whiplash or even understand the fact you’re in a fight.

Being the hothead you are it’s not like you can’t bite back, but he finds a way to go lower every time. Targeting your issues, making you feel so small. Catapulting you back into your childhood home where screaming and making you feel worthless was on every day’s agenda. 

It causes you to cry in anger, close yourself up, all defense mechanisms flaring up instantly. 

He keeps apologizing in the best way he knows how, his lethal pleading eyes on you make you melt every time. It’s hard being mad at someone who looks like a damn puppy. 

In your head there’s two Frankies: 

The one that worships the ground you walk on, makes you feel so loved and desired like no one's ever done before. The Frankie that may not be the best with words and rather let his actions speak. 

And then there’s this broken version of him. The hurt, the insecurity, the temper all bundled up in a dangerous mix that makes your blood boil. 

How can this be the same person? 

Your vibrating phone almost makes you jump out of your skin. You don’t need to look at the caller ID, you know it’s him. It’s the fifth time he calls. You let his call go straight to voicemail. 

You can’t talk to him right now or you say things you’ll regret, or worse, forgive him immediately. 

You take your phone, unlock it and see he’s left three messages in your mailbox. 

With a heavy heart you lift the phone to your ear. 

“Mi amor, look… I am an idiot. I am so sorry, you know I don’t mean it like this. Please call me back, bye” 

You sigh and press play on the next message. 

“Hey, it’s me, your moron of a  boyfriend. You know that you’re incredibly smart, talented and drop dead gorgeous right? Damn, I swear when I first saw you, I was so intimidated by you. I mean… Did you ever really look at yourself? Because hell, I do. You’re incredible and I know you deserve way more than what I have to offer, but fuck...I—”

There’s a short pause. 

“I love you so much and I am sorry. Please… Call me back, yeah ?”

The tears prick hotly in the corners of your eyes and you take a shuddering breath. 

How can one man be such an intricate mess?

You press play on the last message while you nervously fidget with one of your rings. 

“Okay, you may not wanna talk to me right now but I still need you to know that I fucking love you. I may be a stupid idiot but I am your stupid idiot .. If you still want me, that is. What can I do so you talk to me again? I’ll do everything. Just say a word… mierda! This is the third message I leave you, I-I guess… lo siento, baby. You don’t even know how much. I know I’m a mess…”

You hear him sighing, probably running a hand through his hair in frustration. He clears his throat before continuing to speak. 

“Where was I? Oh right, I’d be damned if I don’t tell you you’re the most precious thing in my life ever and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Eres mi vida, mi alma. I hope I didn’t fuck this up for good. I could never forgive myself.” 

Suddenly there’s silence, the message has ended and there’s another tear streaming down your face. Snuffling, you decide to call him back this instant, or you’ll end up ugly crying again. You can’t help it, you love him too much.

After three rings that feel like an eternity, he answers his phone and your heart stops for a beat. Your breath shudders three times when you start to speak.

[tribalauthor]

THE WISEWOMAN (roman reigns ff) <chapter 3>

word count: 2k

Nervous is an understatement for my state of feeling right now.

Today is my first segment and in this segment I have to announce that I am the temporary wise woman for Roman Reigns.

Also I have a task from uncle. I have to persuade Nick Aldis - the general manager of Smackdown to cancel the fatal 4-way match since it's just unfair.

These past few days I met Jimmy, Jey and Solo. Very respectful men by the way. Uncle wasn't lying.

I have also been making friends with the women roster cause I do need female friends here. I can't only hang out with the Bloodline, right?

"Don't worry, girl. You got this!" Samantha tried to hype me up. She is the ring announcer and honestly we became close really fastly. In a few days, we know all about the life stories of one another. "I can't even wait to announce you. Ladies and gentlemen, accompanied to the ring by his special council, the wise woman - Sophia Heyman...oh my god" she started clapping excitingly and this made me grin from ear to ear.

"It sounds so good. You are so talented" I exclaimed. She is really, really good.

"Good luck to your fiancée, by the way" I wished her.

"Thank you so much" she smiled nervously.

"It must be nerve-wracking to have a partner wrestler, right?" I asked out of nowhere.

"Indeed. You are always worried about their health cause anything can happen in that ring and yeah..." she explained. "I just pray every day for him and for my colleagues, of course"

"Understandable" I nodded my head.

"Speaking of..." she looked around us and got closer to me. "What do you think about him?" I got puzzled for a moment.

"Ricochet? Well, I haven't really spoken to him but he seems like a nice guy" I replied.

"Not my fiancée...about Roman" she looked around again and whispered his name.

"Is he like Voldemort, why you so scared of saying his name? Well, he seems okay for now. Honestly, better than I expected but I had no expectations so." I shrugged.

"I think he likes you." she just spat out but this time she wasn't very quiet.

"What? Samantha...are you in your delulu moment?" I furrowed my eyebrows because she just said that so out of nowhere.

"Girl, literally look at you. That's what I'm gonna say. You are the woman that haunts men's dreams, no matter if they are single or taken." Samantha clarified.

"Come on." I rolled my eyes. Would lie if I said I didn't get this before.

"He is divorced by the way but you haven't heard this from me" Samantha switched to whispering again.

"What? I mean...how do you know? I mean, yeah whatever, I guess. Uncle is divorced as well." I shrugged. What did I just do? Now it will seem like I'm happy because of that fact.

"You don't get my point. What I'm trying to tell you is that you should be careful if you don't wanna end up being caught in his vice grip" Sam giggled cause she knows I got the reference very well. However, I was totally unfazed because I don't see myself with a man like him.

"Ha-ha, so funny, Samantha, ha-ha. Don't you worry about me. I have learned my lesson with you know who, so if somebody wants to impress me now, it's gonna be very, very hard." I solidified my intentions. Robert really gave me close to nothing and I was blinded just because he was cute.

"What are you two girls talking about so passionately?" I suddenly heard Roman's deep voice behind me and it startled me so much that I jumped a little. "Woah, calm down, wise woman. Am I a ghost?" he was exactly behind me and I looked up to him since he is like more than 7 inches taller than me. Roman had his eyes down my direction and a big grin on his face. "Tell me what are you two gossiping about. Tell me the drama."

"The discussions me and Samantha were having, Mr. Reigns, are strictly confidential, so I am not telling you. You ain't one of the girls." I sassed him out and he let out a deep chuckle.

"But you are my wise woman. You should tell me everything. No secrets between us." he suddenly tried to act offended.

"This statement, Mr. Reigns, is disputed. There is nowhere in the contract that signifies I should tell you everything about my life and vice versa." I immediately opposed to him.

"Always disagreeing with me" he looked at Samantha with the look of complaint. "Have you ever seen the Wise Man disagreeing with me, Samantha?"

"No, at least not here." she replied.

"Okay but I'm not uncle. Also the agreements are only for the camera. Behind camera, I'm not obligated to." I turned to him and shrugged.

Roman chuckled once again.

"Miss Heyman, I honestly find your attitude so cute. You think you are 'biting' like a snake but honestly, I'm having fun."

"Oh, you think that this is my bad side, Mr. Reigns? I have to apologize then. You are mistaken" I fought back.

"No, I didn't say that this is your bad side. Anyway, we have to start preparing for later, so the gossip session has to end soon, okay?" he suddenly turned all serious. This man's duality is insane. He can throw some random jokes one second and the other second, he turns into a serious man. Is he a Gemini or something?

"Coming after a while" I said and turned around to Samantha.

"I bet you will" I heard him saying under his nose and I turned to him again. When he saw that I heard him, he made that funny "oops" expression.

Until the very moment he got away, Samantha had a look of disbelief in her face.

"See what I'm talking about? Now I'm 100% sure. Soph, I have never...ever in my career seen Roman like this. He is so obvious, oh my god." she put her hand on her mouth.

"Is he a Gemini?" I asked out of nowhere. It's a tendency of mine since I remember myself.

"Uuh, I think so, yes."

"That explains a lot. And then people tell me astrology ain't real" I shook my head. "And how old is he?" I asked quietly.

"Let me think...uh, he is a bit older than Trevor. Two or three years something like this. In his late thirties for sure - 38, I believe." my friend suddenly started calculating. "This year he will be 39."

"What?" my jaw was on the floor. "Yeah, no chance. That's a...12 year difference, nuh-uh." I shook my head.

"But you thought about it" she started laughing and poked me.

"About what?" I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "Anyway I have to go"

"Coming for him" Sam couldn't help but snore.

"Ha-ha so funny" I rolled my eyes.

...

"I'm here" I shouted after I got in the locker room. The whole Bloodline is there.

"Lil' OG." Jimmy came to greet me with a high-five.

"Lil' OG"? Solo seemed weirded out by the way Jimmy called me.

"Paul is OG. Sophia is his blood, therefore she is lil' OG." Jimmy explained himself and his brother just seemed done.

"She looks nothing like Paul."

"Nah, she has his eyes" Jimmy disagreed with him.

"Ah yes. The saphire blue eyes that I inherited from my late great-grandmother Patricia." I stated.

"You may not look like Paul but for sure sound like him" Jimmy concluded. "So are you ready for later?"

"Mentally kinda, physically absolutely not. I have to start dressing up and everything because after 10 minutes the makeup artist and the hairdresser will be waiting for me." I looked at my watch.

Then reached to the wardrobe to grab the outfit I planned for tonight. It is a two piece costume consisting a blouse like blazer with a deep cleavage but it also has a scarf that is going to wrap around my throat and also a long skirt with a long slit. The color is dark blue with thin light stripes exactly like my uncle's costumes. For shoes I chose beige lacquered high heels.

Where is Roman? He was so insisting for me to come here and now he is nowhere to be found.

"Paul Heyman : female version" Jimmy said in a narrative tone which made me chuckle.

"I don't think the crowd is going to notice the difference" I shrugged.

"Oh, they definitely will, trust me" Solo said seriously.

I suddenly heard steps. I turned on my right and oh my God, I shouldn't have.

The view before me is just...wow.

Roman fresh out of the shower with his wet, long hair, his big ass tribal tattoo and a white towel wrapped around his torso. Water drips falling onto his body like tears.

"Ah, you're here, Sophia." he said that as if he totally expected me and as if everything is on purpose.

"Yeah." I turned around and faced his cousins because if I stare for longer, I will boost up his ego. Damn, that man is jacked.

"So is the bathroom free? I have to dress quickly." I asked a rhetorical question but I tried to go as quickly as possible, so I don't look at him in any way. I went through like a flash honestly.

"Do you need help?" I heard him yelling at me.

"No?" that was so random of him.

"You said you have to dress up quick and you know two works better than one" he replied and that response caused me to open the bathroom door and he was still sitting there.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Reigns but I have to decline this offer." after I finished, I slammed the door.

Is he out of his mind? Asking me this right in front of his cousins? Unbelievable.

Roman's POV:

I chuckled at Sophia once again. Damn, I know this woman for a few days yet she got under my skin. The way she looks, the way she talks, the way she walks. I feel betrayed by Paul, to be completely honest. How could he never tell me he has such a pretty niece?

"Uce...what the fuck?" Solo whisper yelled.

"What?" the grin on my face still stayed.

"Bro...you are hitting on Paul's niece" Jimmy called me out.

"Nah, I'm not. We are just joking" I immediately debunked Jimmy's statement and went to the wardrobe to search for my stuff.

"You don't joke like this...ever. Come to your senses, uce. She is way younger than you. How old is she?" Jon asked with a concern.

"I don't know. Probably 25-26." the looks the siblings exchanged between each other were full of shock as if I said she is a minor...come on.

"She is younger than me?" Solo seemed caught off guard.

"That divorce is blinding you." Jimmy started lecturing me. "You see a pretty woman and suddenly you want to sleep with her".

"I don't wanna sleep with her, you perverts. I just like her company, okay? Stop lecturing me." I tried not to yell at them because I don't want Sophia to hear me.

"Uce, you can't fool us. Look at her. A living Barbie doll. Get yourself together immediately." Solo whisper yelled but we all shut up immediately when we heard the door open.

"So how do I look?" Sophia asked, standing in front of me with that business ass little outfit and heels and so much unholy thoughts going in my head of how I bend her over and pull that skirt up and then...

Joseph, you should stop before somebody rises underneath and completely embarass yourself.

That woman is my dream personified and I don't care what my cousins think. I'm going to have her one way or another.

"Amazing" I cleared my throat. "Spectacular" I cleared my throat again, trying not to stare too much at her.

"Great" Jimmy and Solo threw her big grins and thumbs up.

"Thank you so much, now I'm leaving you guys. Bye. See ya later." she ran to the door and left the room.

"Holy shit" I sat on the couch. "I may be in trouble" I finally confessed.

"Took you long enough." Solo said sarcastically.

[xmads-omensx]

Word Count: 1,639

Pairing: Best friend! Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: swearing, arguments, Noah is bad at feelings and so is Y/N

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @chey-h @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp

Thanks @alwaysfightforwhoyouare for the idea, and sorry it took me so long to actually write since we were talking about this before New Years lmao.

Extra inspo:

NOAH POV

She was beautiful.

I found myself stealing glances at her whenever I could. It was impossible not to. Even when I didn’t intend to, my eyes always found her.

No matter what room I walked into, I always sought her out.

Her laugher. Her smile. Her eyes. Her.

Y/N had been my best friend, besides Nicholas of course, for as long as I could remember. Granted, we only met when we had moved to California, but we clicked instantly.

Two peas in a pod. Partners in crime. Ride or die.

That was us.

But I was desperate for more.

I wanted to hold her hand. Hold her. Kiss her. Tell I loved her. Take her to bed. Be with her.

But it could never happen. She had a boyfriend and I was just her best friend. She would never see me as anything more than that.

I buried those feelings as deep as I possibly could. I dated and saw other people as often as I could to try and move on, but nothing worked. No matter who I went out with, my mind was always stuck on Y/N.

Every time I saw her with Chris, my heart broke a little bit more. I knew this was unfair, since she had no idea how I felt about her and it wasn’t her fault she was happy with someone else, but part of me resented her for being happy with someone else.

What could he give her that I couldn’t?

I knew every single detail about her. I could even tell you how many freckles decorated her face if you asked me to.

But it wasn’t enough.

She had him, and I had Bad Omens.

“Y/N and Chris are fighting again.” Matt sighed, taking his seat in the studio.

They had been fighting a lot recently. He had been going out more often with his friends, leaving Y/N at home. She hated being alone.

“Same thing again?” Jolly asked.

“Yep.” Matt sighed again.

Silence encased the studio. None of us particularly liked Chris, some for more selfish reasons than others, but none of us wanted to stop Y/N from being happy.

“I’ve got some lyrics that I’ve been working on.” I spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Can we have a look?” Jolly asked, so I handed him my highly precious notebook that I used for songwriting.

His eyes darted over the pages. if he knew what the song was about, he didn’t let on anything.

“This is good shit, Noah.” He said, smiling genuinely.

I had been working on the song for a while now, but I never had the courage to show anyone else the song yet.

It was by far my favourite song that I had ever written.

“Do you think it would be okay for the new record?” I asked, chewing the skin on my thumb anxiously.

“I think it’s perfect for the new record dude.” Jolly said, grinning widely.

“Great.” I said with a sigh of relief.

We spent most of the day recording the new song, working in silence for the most part as we seemed to be working in unison, as one.

The lyrics flew out of me so easily, it was like breathing.

Verse after verse, the melody came naturally.

It didn’t matter if anyone knew what the song was about, as long as she got to hear it.

Y/N POV

Chris and I never had a great relationship.

It wasn’t toxic or anything, we just didn’t love eachother, but were determined to make it work.

The honeymoon phase was relatively short, only lasting the first two months of our relationship.

Out fights consisted of the same common denominators every single time. His partying and my friendship with Noah.

Chris hated Noah with a burning passion. In fact, Chris was convinced that Noah was in love with me, which would be impossible because how could someone like Noah be in love with someone like me?

Noah was a genuine, kind soul, and I was often labelled a vindictive bitch.

He would have to be desperate for human connection if he fell in love with me.

“Seriously, I don’t understand why you’re friends with him, Y/N, he clearly just wants to get in your pants.” Chris sighed, exasperated at my apparent obliviousness to Noah’s alleged feelings for me.

“Because he’s my best friend, and no, he doesn’t want to get in my pants. I think I’d know if he did.” I replied, sick of this argument going round in circles.

“Y/N, please listen to me. He isn’t your friend. He just wants to use you to get off. He likes the power he has over you.” Chris argued back, raising his voice.

“Stop lying about it, I’m not going to believe you.” I yelled. “This is so fucking dumb, Chris, all we ever do is go around in circles until we either get bored of the argument and go cool off somewhere or we just end up fucking!”

“Who’s fault is it that we keep running in circles like this?” Chris snarled. “You’re the one who is still hanging around that jackass.”

“Oh my god! When will you realise that Noah is not the problem here, you are!” I yelled.

“Then how about I leave and make your life easier?” Chris shouted.

“Good! Get the fuck out of my house!” I yelled in reply, gesturing towards the door.

He simply turned around and left. Just like that.

The silence that filled the house wasn’t unpleasant like I thought it would be, but instead it was peaceful and I welcomed it with open arms.

Finally, I had enough space to think. To breathe. To exist without him screaming down my ear about Noah, and without me interrogating him about him going out with his friends into the very early hours of the morning.

But after a few hours of this new silence, the house became almost too silent. Too cold. Too big.

I needed the space to be smaller again.

With my mind in autopilot, I found myself climbing into the drivers side of my car and driving over to Noah’s house, desperate for comfort and some semblance of crowdedness.

Noah’s front door opened before you had even rung the bell.

“Hey, you okay? Matt had us worried about you.” Noah gushed, pulling me into a hug.

“Yeah just wanted to hang out for a bit. It’s too quiet at my place.” I explained with a shrug.

“Is Chris out again?”  Noah asked as we walked into his house.

“Oh, we broke up like two hours ago.” I said with a laugh, but I couldn’t tell if it was a fake laugh or not.

“Shit are you okay?” Noah asked, placing his hands on my shoulders.

“Yeah. I mean I think so.” I said with a shrug.

“Y/N, you’re crying.” Noah whispered, his voice significantly more gentle than it had been previously as he cupped my cheek and wiped a stray tear away from my face.

“No, really I’m okay.” I said, unsure as to why I was crying.

“Come here.” Noah whispered, pulling me into a tight hug.

I wasn’t sure what it was about hugging Noah made me feel so emotional, but I couldn’t control the damn that burst, letting all of my pent up frustrations at Chris gush out.

The more I cried, the clearer the real reason for my tears became. I was in love with Noah.

NOAH POV

I gently rubbed Y/N’s back as I held her close to my chest, hoping to ease her pain as much as I could.

“Come with me, I want to show you something.” I whispered, guiding her into the studio before sitting her down on the small sofa we had in there for moments like these.

She curled up in her usual spot with her knees pulled up to her chest.

I switched on the computer monitor and selected the audio file that I wanted.

Besides the purple LED lights, that were Y/N’s favourite, the monitor was the only thing that illuminated the otherwise empty room.

The soft melody of the acoustic demo that we had recorded earlier that morning filled the air as I sat next to Y/N on the sofa and pulling her into my arms. She instantly snuggled closer into my chest as if she were hiding from something and was seeking comfort.

She was my safe space and I was hers.

The lyrics began to take over the melody as I rocked Y/N back and forth in my arms.

There are scars that never ever show themselves

You get when you’re left alone too long in Hell

I was sick and tired of leaving Y/N to live her life without me by her side. I was desperate to be able to call her mine. To hold her hand as we walked to our favourite coffee shop. To kiss her cheek and tell her she looked beautiful as she got ready to go out. To be able to hold her as we drifted off to sleep in our bed.

I was desperate for HER.

I began to sing the lyrics to her, causing her to look up into my eyes as I looked down into hers.

Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

“Noah.” She murmured.

“Yes, Y/N.” I whispered in reply.

“I love you.” She whispered.

I answered her by leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on her lips. Just enough to tell her exactly how I felt.

“Yours?” She asked after we pulled away.

“Mine.” I replied with a smile.

“Forever?”

“Yes, Y/N, mine forever.”

And if you're there to catch me when I fall Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all