#i’m going to have to savor every damn moment

[fuckingwoodfuckingpaneling]

SALTBURN TONIGHT ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[heeliopheelia]

𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 1.6k

a/n: felt like writing something fluffy again 🤍 this being written on the same night as my previous smut fic is lowkey diabolical but well 🤭

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

You set your phone on a makeshift camera-holder made from books and candles, then press record and shuffle back to your boyfriend. 

“Okay, close your eyes,” you instruct him and smile when he obliges, additionally turning his head to the side, looking straight into the camera as you apply the first chapstick from your little stack. After a couple seconds, you call out to him again, “You can open them now!”

His eyes instantly drop to your lips, the subtle glow of the chapstick already making him impatient to kiss you. 

“You can go n-”

Your words are rudely interrupted by his greedy lips. They move with yours, starting with a simple peck, then going a little deeper, to taste you better. The sweetness is a little too much for him but he’s having too much fun teasing you this way to pull away right away. 

But once he finally does, he’s met with your expecting eyes.

“Watermelon,” he guesses.

You nod your head with a wide smile. “Yeah!” 

A small grimace makes its way on his face. “I fucking hated this one.”

“Yeah, I’m not the biggest fan either. Now, turn around.”

You wipe off the chapstick before carefully applying another one. Your fingers barely touch Heeseung’s shoulder to catch his attention, when his mouth is already latching onto yours. 

He savors the taste of your lips, slowly and sensually and you feel more lightheaded with every next second. He captures your bottom lip, sucking on it repeatedly until you can’t breathe anymore. Suddenly reminding yourself of your surroundings, you pull away abruptly, ignoring your boyfriend’s cocky smirk.

Clearing your throat, you fix your hair. “Great. Now I can’t post it anywhere.”

Heeseung grins at your pout, hand reaching up to pinch at your cheek teasingly. 

“It was coconut, by the way,” he answers your question before you even get the chance to ask it, and damn, he’s right again.

PARK JAY

Jay watches as a grin spreads onto your lips. 

“I picked that one just for you,” you say sweetly, shuffling closer on the bed until your knees touch. “C’mon, give it a try.”

He snickers slightly when you close your eyes and obnoxiously pucker your lips, waiting for him to make a move. Leaning forward, he gently cradles your cheek in his hand before pressing the softest of kisses on your lips. You let him suck on your lips for a moment before he pulls away first and flicks your nose.

“Oh, that’s honey.”

You nod with enthusiasm, pretending as if his kiss hasn’t flipped your insides out. “Yeah. Good guess!”

He closes his eyes, his hand blindly reaching out for yours to rub circles on your soft skin as you apply the next chapstick. You smack your lips together to even out the product, then move closer to your boyfriend again. 

His pretty eyes find yours again and he closes the space between you two, pressing your lips together lovingly. Your fingers clench on his t-shirt, and you tilt your face to the side to deepen the kiss slightly. And, fuck, you just can’t help yourself. 

It’s Jay who has to pull away again with a small giggle, thumb wiping away the smudged chapstick from under your bottom lip. 

He licks his lips, tasting the waxy residue you’ve left from your kiss. Then he thinks for a second. “... Peach?” 

You nod with a satisfied hum. “One more?” 

This time you’re not gonna fuck around. You pick the most bizarre chapstick flavor in front of your eyes, then call Jay over to you, waiting for him with a soft smile on your lips.

“This one’s a little more difficult.”

Jay grunts then kisses your pink, now slightly swollen lips. A content sigh escapes your lips at his tender touch, shivering when the cool ring on his finger brushes over the skin on your thigh. The kiss lasts a little longer than the two previous ones but Jay breaks it after stealing all of your breath away.

“I think it’s like… pear,” he guesses, a little unsurely this time but this expression melts away when your face lightens up again. 

“Yeah! Holy shit, babe, how are you so good at this?”

SIM JAKE

He didn’t even need a second to think to agree to your game. Now, with you sitting across from him on the living room floor, he presses your lips together to try the first chapstick.

What he never expected was for you to taste so damn good, so with a low hum in his throat, he pulls you closer to him by your neck and takes in all the sweetness of you. His other hand lands right under your jaw, gentle fingers tilting your face up for a better access to your lips.

After another second or two or five, you drag your face away from his and wait for your boyfriend’s guess. 

Jake licks his lips and tries his best to look as if he actually has a clue of what he’s doing. It’s not like he got completely fucking lost in your lips – not at all, what a stupid thought.

And so he shoots blankly. “Okay, this gotta be like… tangerine.”

You look at him ridiculously. “What, no! That was vanilla.”

“Oh… Yeah, you’re right,” he clears his throat, hand running through his soft hair. “Gimme the next one.”

You roll your eyes and throw a blanket across his face, knowing well his tendencies to cheating. You take one of your makeup wipes and clean your lips, eyes searching for some easy flavor. Once you’re done picking, you take the blanket off of Jake’s face and get on your knees in front of him.

Deciding on helping him out a little bit and not letting him get distracted again, you place a simple peck on his mouth, long enough for him to actually get a taste of your chapstick. 

Jake presses his lips together as he thinks for a moment. “Is it apricot?”

Your jaw slacks in disbelief. “Oh, be so for real right now! That was like the easiest guess of them all!”

“Well, what was it?” He scrunches his nose.

“Strawberry! Fuck you mean apricot?”

Jake can’t help but giggle at how aggravated you’re getting with this game. “Sorry, sorry. One last try! I promise I’ll get this one.” He places his palm over his heart.

“Fine.”

You repeat the procedure, then go in for a peck again, not wanting to risk losing your boyfriend again. 

“And?” You ask, a hopeful glimmer in your eyes.

“Cherry.”

You let out a heavy sigh. “That was rose.”

Jake snickers, finally grabbing your waist to drag you all over the way to his lap. “Should’ve guessed that. You tasted like a granny, felt like I was kissing a seventy year old.”

“Hey!”

PARK SUNGHOON

Even expecting him to actually take you seriously was your first mistake. 

But your lips are so pink and so glossy – you can’t blame him, really. It’s like you’re begging to be kissed over and over again.

And so now, sitting next to you on the couch, he has your soft hand covering his eyes to prevent him from cheating. You apply the mango chapstick generously onto your lips and return your boyfriend’s vision a moment later.

You turn your face to his unimpressed one, an adorably excited smile spread on your lips and making his own twitch up a little. 

“You ready?” You chirp, hiding the chapstick behind your back. 

He motions for you to move closer, spreading his legs to make you more place in between them. “C’mere, baby.”

With a roll of your eyes, you still oblige and settle between his thighs, wrapping your arms around his neck. Not wasting any more time, Sunghoon ducks down and captures your lips with his. The kiss is deep and takes all of your breath away when his tongue slides over your bottom lip lewdly. 

His kiss is way too intense for the silly game you had in mind in the first place, so before he can go even further, you pull away from him, cupping his chin in your hand.

“So?” 

Sunghoon shrugs, eyes hungry for more. “Dunno. Lemme have another go.”

“Hey!” You pout, puckering your lips and giving him a perfect opportunity to press another kiss to them. And so he does, surging forward and molding your mouths together again. 

He sucks on your lip like a hungry man, his caresses sloppy and without a care in the world for your game anymore. His body aches for you, for more, so he opens your mouth by tugging your chin down gently with his warm fingers, then slipping his tongue inside your mouth. 

“My god, Hoon-” You push on his chest gently, trying to pry the visibly touch-starved man away from your lips. “Wait, let me try another one.”

Sunghoon dismisses your protests and presses another kiss to your lips. “Nah, I like that one.”

“But that’s the first one I tried on!” You whine, slowly surrendering yourself to your stubborn boyfriend.

“Well, then it obviously was the best pick.”

Sunghoon’s arm slides down to wrap around your waist firmly before falling backwards on the couch and pulling you onto his chest as he goes down. He chuckles in your lips at your annoyed grunt, his fingers cradling your cheek as he deepens the kiss. As much as you want to tell yourself you’ll never play this fucking game with him again, you know it would be a blatant lie after all.

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @dilucsleftshoelace @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @seongiewon @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @seongclb

© heeliopheelia 2024 // ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT copy, translate or repost any of my works on any other social platforms.

[kayewrite]

At the same time, I wanna hug you

(...I wanna wrap my hands around your neck)

seungmin x reader!! enemies to lovers troupe!! genre; fluff. word count: 10.7k (long but still not enough)

summary; if you have teleportation powers you would bring seungmin in the middle of ocean and dump him there. that's how much you hated him. but wait.. why he was suddenly cool?

an: you dont know how much i went crazy seeing seungmin in uniform! like babe! why are my classmate not like him? and.. this was a birthday present cause this man just turn half 50 minus 1!! anyways enjoy reading

Kim Seungmin.

You hated that very name.

You hated his existence.

You hated his smirk.

You hated that he breathes.

You hated how he never failed to make your blood boil.

Like now.

You were practically crawling into the classroom, late again, knowing full well the teacher wasn’t going to let it slide this time. Slowly and quietly, you slipped through the back door, hoping to go unnoticed, but your hopes were dashed when Kim Seungmin turned in his seat and caught your eye. His face slowly morphed into that all-too-familiar smirk.

You already knew your fate.

"Ma'am, someone’s late again."

You clenched your fists, resisting the urge to punch him as the teacher ordered you to stand and endure a scolding. You stood there, bowing your head like a guilty child while Seungmin chuckled at your misery.

You hated him. You hated him so much you wished for teleportation powers—just so you could dump him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and teleport back home.

The worst part? You were seatmates. In the one subject that made you contemplate dropping the class every week just to escape him. But no, you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. You’d endure, just so he wouldn’t win.

"Why were you late again?" he leaned over, asking in the most casual, condescending way possible.

“None of your business,” you rolled your eyes and shifted your chair further away from him.

“Actually, it is my business.” He smirked again, lifting the attendance sheet. “I’m in charge of marking who’s here today, and guess what? I don’t see your name yet. Got a good excuse for me?”

Damn.

You glared at him, wishing your stare could send him straight to the hospital. “I hate you.”

“Oh, I love you too,” he teased, laughing at your frustration.

--

You were minding your own business, erasing the board, when out of nowhere, a crumpled piece of paper hit you square on the head. Annoyed, you turned sharply, searching for the culprit. Your eyes quickly landed on Kim Seungmin, who very obviously averted his gaze and started whistling—like that wasn’t the biggest giveaway ever.

Glaring at him, you felt your temper rise. Without thinking twice, you grabbed the nearest weapon of choice—the chalkboard eraser—and hurled it with full force.

"Hey—!" Seungmin barely had time to react, his hands flying up to shield himself. The eraser still hit him, sending a cloud of chalk dust everywhere.

Minutes later, there he was, sitting in the clinic, sulking like he’d been gravely injured. You stood over him, arms crossed, rolling your eyes at the ridiculous situation.

“You’re such a kid,” you teased, watching as he winced dramatically. “Crying over a tiny little scratch.”

He glared at you, clutching his arm like he’d survived a battle. “Tiny? You nearly broke my arm!”

You smirked, “If I wanted to break your arm, Seungmin, I wouldn’t have used an eraser.”

You and Seungmin fought like kids, constantly bickering and annoying each other to the point where even your classmates didn’t bother stepping in anymore. They’d seen you two nearly throw punches at each other too many times to care.

One day in the cafeteria, you were finally enjoying a moment of peace, savoring your lunch, when Seungmin suddenly plopped down in front of you. He smiled, but there was something odd about it. Well, Seungmin was always odd, but this felt extra weird. He wasn’t even touching his food; he just sat there, staring at you.

"What are you looking at, ugly?" you asked, scowling.

He leaned back casually. "My friends are coming, and we're sitting at this table. It’s up to you if you wanna leave or not."

You blinked, taken aback. "What?! I got here first!"

"Yeah, well," he shrugged nonchalantly, "I don’t care."

Before you could argue further, the cafeteria exploded with noise. His friends had arrived—there was no mistaking it. They were loud, famous, and had an almost cult-like following at school. You could practically hear the high-pitched squeals from the “fandom” as they entered. Without even turning around, you knew it was them.

Your frustration mounted as they surrounded the table, chattering loudly. You weren’t exactly fond of crowds, for that matter. Sitting there, sandwiched between Seungmin and his friends, you felt like a deer caught in headlights.

Hyunjin—yes, that Hyunjin—suddenly leaned over, flashing a bright smile. "Hey, what’s your name?"

You nearly choked on your food. Of course, the universe had to pick this moment to be cruel. Before you could respond, Seungmin cut in with a smug grin.

"She’s no one. Don’t mind her," he said, not even sparing you a glance.

Your face flushed with embarrassment and annoyance. You stood up abruptly, knocking over your chair. "I’ve suddenly lost my appetite," you muttered awkwardly before storming off, desperately trying to escape the humiliation.

Why does this always happen to me? you groaned internally. I hate Seungmin. And I hate myself for embarrassing myself in front of my crush… Hyunjin.

If I see that KIM SEUNGMIN later, I’m going to kill him.

Later in class, your chance for revenge came. Seungmin was called on for an oral recitation, and—poetic justice—he stood there, stuttering and completely clueless. You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath as he floundered, finally getting a taste of the embarrassment he loved dishing out.

Justice had never tasted so sweet.

---

"I hope lightning strikes him," you muttered, glaring at Seungmin from a distance as you hugged yourself, shivering from the cold. You were stuck in a waiting shed, the afternoon bringing with it a torrential downpour that looked like the start of a typhoon. The weather had been perfect this morning—sunny, with not a cloud in sight. You'd made the mistake of leaving your umbrella at home, thinking it would only weigh down your bag. Now, you regretted every bit of that decision.

Across the street, Seungmin stood dry under his big, obnoxiously bright umbrella, almost laughing as he caught sight of you. His smug grin was practically glowing, and as if to rub salt in the wound, he waved at you.

You flipped him the finger.

‘When will his time come?’ you wondered bitterly. Why am I always the one who ends up miserable?

The shed's roof was doing a terrible job of keeping the rain out. Water dripped from all angles, splashing around you and soaking your clothes. You glanced up at the leaky ceiling and groaned. When will this stop? you thought—both about the rain and Seungmin.

If the two of you were friends, and if he weren’t the spawn of Lucifer himself, you might’ve swallowed your pride and asked to share his umbrella. Your house was literally just a block away. But no! You would not—under any circumstances—lower yourself to envy his dry, smug self.

You would never give him the satisfaction. Even if it meant sitting here the whole night, soaked and miserable.

Seungmin started walking toward you, his big umbrella swaying with each step. He stopped in front of you with the most annoyingly sarcastic smile.

"You wanna share?" he asked, eyes twinkling with amusement.

You rolled your eyes. "No thanks."

"You sure? The news said the rain’s stopping… tomorrow."

"Even if it never stops for a whole week, Kim Seungmin, I would never!" you snapped, glaring at him.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your misery. "You sure? Last chance."

"Yes!" you practically shouted, arms crossed in defiance.

"Okay." He shrugged, stepping back. "One word is enough for me."

And with that, he turned on his heel and continued on his way, leaving you alone in the rain.

"I won’t regret it!" you yelled after him, though your voice sounded far less confident than before.

Ten minutes later, you were drenched and shivering, cursing under your breath. Regret started to creep in. You glanced down the road—completely empty. Not a single taxi in sight.

"Where are all the taxis when I need them?" you groaned, looking up at the dark, stormy sky.

And so, your day ended just as it began: with Seungmin somehow managing to ruin it.

--

It was Friday, and your first class of the day happened to be the one where your seatmate was none other than him.

Determined not to be late, you arrived twenty minutes early. The classroom was nearly empty, with only a handful of students scattered around. Feeling groggy, you slumped over your desk, letting the quiet atmosphere lull you into a light nap.

Of course, peace never lasted long when Seungmin was involved.

A sharp knock on your desk pulled you from the brink of sleep. You cracked one eye open to see Seungmin settling into the seat beside you, a smug grin already plastered on his face.

"Oh, you’re early today. Were you looking forward to sitting next to me?" he teased, leaning back comfortably as if he hadn't just ruined your peaceful moment.

"It’s still early, Kim Seungmin," you muttered, closing your eyes again. Not today, you thought. You weren’t going to let him ruin your morning. Not this early.

He glanced at his watch with a chuckle. "Well, it’s 10 a.m., and that’s not exactly early, is it?"

"Seungmin, if you’re bored and looking to annoy someone, talk to my hand." Without even opening your eyes, you lazily raised your hand in his direction, palm out.

Just then, Yuna, who sat in front of you, arrived. She took one look at the two of you, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Why are you guys always fighting the moment you see each other?"

You opened one eye, giving her a pleading look. "Can you please let him annoy you instead?"

Yuna just laughed. "Oh, Seungmin wouldn’t annoy anyone else but you." She gave you a knowing smile. "He likes you."

Your eyes shot open at her words, and you squinted at Seungmin, who was now smirking as if he knew exactly how to get under your skin. "Yeah, likes to annoy me," you huffed, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

Seungmin shrugged, leaning in a little closer just to provoke you. "Well, yeah, I like it sooo much," he laughed, clearly amused by your reaction.

Yuna, now used to your bickering, just shrugged and turned her attention to the front of the classroom, leaving you to deal with him.

You let out a sigh, hoping that Seungmin would leave you alone for at least a minute. "Is there any chance you’ll be quiet today?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Hmm, nope."

You groaned, dropping your head back onto your desk. "Why do you even sit next to me?"

"Fate," he said casually, glancing over as if he hadn’t just said the most ridiculous thing ever.

You shot him a disbelieving look. "What?"

"It’s fate," he repeated with a smirk. "Out of all the seats in this entire classroom, I ended up next to you. Don’t you think that means something?"

"Yeah, it means I’m cursed."

He laughed, the sound annoyingly cheerful, and leaned in closer. "Maybe, or maybe you’re just lucky to have me next to you."

"Lucky isn’t the word I’d use."

Before he could respond, the classroom started filling up, and the teacher finally arrived. You sent a silent prayer of thanks, hoping class would be a break from Seungmin’s endless teasing.

“…you will do this assignment by pairs. To speed things up, partner with your seatmate.”

It was nothing new to be stuck with your enemy, but when you realized that the activity involved a short roleplay drama, you felt a surge of panic. Acting alongside him was nowhere on your bucket list of things to do—if you even had a bucket list.

“Maam, can I exchange my partner?” you raised your hand, desperation evident in your voice.

“Ouch, you hurt my feelings!” Seungmin clutched his chest dramatically, feigning offense.

“What’s wrong with your partner?” the teacher asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sometimes you wondered why everyone seemed to love this annoying dog sitting next to you.

With no choice left, you begrudgingly held the script with a scowl. When would you ever have a peaceful day in class? Why did you have to pretend to be in love with this guy?

“Come on, read your line!” Seungmin demanded, his annoyance bubbling over.

Of all the choices in your teacher's fishbowl, you’d drawn the romantic scene everyone praying not to get. You would have preferred a horror script over this.

“I don’t want to!” you protested, crossing your arms defiantly.

“Well, you have to! It’s your fault for picking it!” he shot back, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“I told you to pick it!” you replied, frustration mounting.

“And then I’d be the one to blame? We don’t have a choice but to do well.” He leaned back, crossing his arms smugly.

“Ugh! I hate you so much!” you exclaimed, slumping back in your seat.

“Well, you have to love me now.” He chuckled, clearly enjoying your misery.

“What did I do in my past life to deserve this?” You groaned, reading the lines again.

“Probably killed someone,” he quipped, shooting you a knowing look.

You glared at him, and he immediately raised his hands in mock surrender, laughing.

“Oh, apologies. Let’s practice! You don’t have a choice; it’s either fail or just accept it.”

“I hate you.”

“I accept it, Juliet.” He grinned, clearly relishing your frustration.

Thankfully, the teacher had given you a week to prepare, which meant you never took practicing seriously after that.

“We’ll practice tomorrow,” Seungmin stated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I have something to do tomorrow,” you said nonchalantly, hoping to deter him.

“I have things too, but I want good grades, so you have to come.” He started packing his things away.

“Hey, Seungmin!” You both turned at the sound of his friend’s voice. It was Hyunjin, accompanied by Felix and Jisung. You straightened up, suddenly conscious of your appearance.

“Let’s go somewhere!” Jisung draped an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders.

“I have important things to do,” Seungmin replied, and Jisung pouted in response.

“Oh, it was you in the cafeteria the other day,” Hyunjin said, looking right at you. It took you a moment to process that he was talking to you.

“Um…” Your voice faltered. “Yes?”

Hyunjin smiled at you, and you felt your heart race.

“Guys, wait for me outside. You just sneaked into my classroom,” Seungmin laughed, and his friends complied, heading for the door.

You were still catching your breath from the interaction when Seungmin turned back, grinning at you. “So, Hyunjin is your crush?” he asked, his tone teasing.

Oh no! Seungmin had caught on!

“Of course, I’m not!” you blurted out, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Why are you saying ‘I’m not’ in such an awkward way?” He laughed, clearly enjoying this new revelation. “Then it is true!”

“Please don’t tell him!” You pleaded, realizing you were losing this battle.

“Of course I won’t…” He smiled coyly, “…I won’t do what you ask.” Then, with a laugh, he tossed his bag over his shoulder and dashed out the door.

“Oh, damn…” You froze in your seat, panic setting in.

“See you at practice tomorrow!” Seungmin waved annoyingly from the doorway, clearly aware that you had no choice but to comply.

As the door swung shut behind him, you sank back into your chair, contemplating your fate. Tomorrow was going to be a nightmare.

--

You arrived at his house and rang the doorbell repeatedly, knowing he would probably just hear it and take his sweet time.

“You’re late,” he said with a smug smile when he finally opened the gate.

“I’m not,” you insisted, holding your wrist up to show him your watch, the sleek silver face gleaming in the sunlight.

“You’re late by 58 seconds,” he replied, crossing his arms as if he were judging your punctuality.

“What?! It’s not my fault you opened your gate late!” You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

He chuckled at your annoyed expression, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Come in.”

“Not like I have a choice,” you muttered, stepping inside.

It was your first time in his house, and you weren’t surprised by how nice it was. The exterior was already immaculate, and the inside was just as polished—walls adorned with family photos and art that hinted at a cozy atmosphere. But you would never admit that to him.

“My parents aren’t home; they have work,” he said, glancing around the living room as if to check for any potential chaos.

“No one asked,” you shot back, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement.

“Just wanted to let you know in case you try to kill me; there’s a CCTV camera around,” he said, half-serious.

“Oh, great. Just what I need,” you replied dryly, shaking your head.

He headed to the kitchen, presumably to get something to drink, giving you a moment to explore. You took the chance to glance at the pictures displayed throughout the room. One photo caught your eye—him as a child, beaming with joy as he played in a park.

When he returned, you pointed to the picture near the TV. “Is that you?”

“Obviously,” he said, rolling his eyes, his tone laced with playful sarcasm.

You squinted at the picture, then turned to him, suddenly serious. “I mean… will there ever be a time for us to stop bickering, even just for a bit? I'm trying to start a normal conversation here”

“Will there be?” he countered, sitting beside you with a teasing grin, his body relaxed as he leaned back.

“Yeah, right. Never,” you replied, smirking despite yourself.

He handed you the printed script he’d prepared, the edges slightly crinkled. “Why are we putting so much effort into this? It’s just reading the script, not really acting it out.”

“Because I have a goal grade, unlike you,” he said matter-of-factly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Have you forgotten I’m an achiever too?” you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly.

When would this bickering ever end?

“Hyunjin is coming,” he announced suddenly, the air in the room shifting.

“No one asked--” You paused, then asked, “Wait what?!”

“So you should behave if you don’t want to scare him off,” he added, the grin still plastered on his face.

“Seungmin, why would you do that?!” You lightly slapped him on the shoulder, half-exasperated, half-amused.

“Because… I can?” He laughed, shielding himself playfully. “I mean, what’s wrong with inviting a friend? He's good at acting he can help”

“I hate you so much,” you groaned, exasperation creeping into your tone.

Hyunjin had been your crush for as long as you could remember, and the thought of him being in the same space as you made your stomach flutter with nerves. He was perfect in every way—charismatic, charming, and completely out of your league.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Seungmin teased, leaning closer with that infuriating grin. “Oh, I forgot—you like him, right?”

You responded by giving him another light shove, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. It was always like this between you two—endless banter, lighthearted teasing, but the presence of Hyunjin added a layer of awkwardness you couldn’t quite shake.

You both settled onto the couch, the printed script between you. Seungmin glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Okay, let’s get this over with. You read Juliet’s lines, and I’ll read Romeo’s,” he said, smirking.

“Fine, but don’t mess it up,” you replied, trying to maintain your composure.

You started reading through the script, your voice steady but laced with a hint of nervousness. “O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes dramatically. “Wow, so poetic. Just make sure you don’t faint from all that romance.”

You shot him a glare. “Shut up, Romeo.”

Just then, the doorbell rang. Your heart raced. Hyunjin was here.

“See? You should behave,” Seungmin teased, nudging your shoulder.

You threw him a playful glare, then he rushed to open the door. There stood Hyunjin, looking effortlessly cool, his smile warm as he greeted you both. “Hey! Ready to practice?”

“Uh, yeah! Come in!” you said, trying to keep your cool but feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.

Seungmin sauntered over, clearly relishing the moment. “Hyunjin! Glad you could join us! We were just getting to the juicy parts.”

You shot him a warning look, hoping he wouldn’t embarrass you. Hyunjin, however, seemed unfazed. “Nice! I can help you both with the romantic scenes if you want.”

You nodded eagerly. “That would be great! I need help with… you know, acting like I’m in love.” You winced at how obvious that sounded.

Hyunjin grinned, moving to sit across from you. “Alright, let’s try a scene. Here’s the famous balcony part. Juliet says, ‘O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again.’”

You felt your heart flutter. “I’ll try,” you said, taking a deep breath. “O, for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel-gentle back again!”

Hyunjin smiled, then gestured for you to continue. “And then Romeo responds with, ‘I would not for the world they saw thee here.’”

Seungmin picked up the line, and you both began to read, the atmosphere shifting as you focused on the scene. You felt a playful energy in the air, the tension of performing lifting your spirits.

“‘I would not for the world they saw thee here,’” Seungmin said, his voice low and earnest.

You replied, “Then there’s no need to be ashamed,” trying to put as much emotion into it as possible.

Hyunjin clapped after your line. “That was great! You both looked really good together!”

You and Seungmin exchanged a quick look. “No!” you both said in unison.

Hyunjin chuckled, clearly entertained by your synchronized denial. “Really, it’s just acting! But seriously, you guys have good chemistry.”

“Thanks!” you said, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pride.

“Alright, let’s keep practicing!” Hyunjin suggested, eager to dive back into the script.

You focused on the lines, the playful banter keeping the atmosphere light. As you practiced, you couldn’t help but enjoy the moment, the camaraderie making the task feel less like a chore and more like fun.

With Hyunjin guiding you, you felt more confident as you delivered your lines, ready to tackle the performance together.

--

The days passed in a blur as you and Seungmin practiced again at his house. You settled into a routine, the playful banter punctuating your rehearsals, and surprisingly, you started to enjoy the time spent together.

Finally, the day of the presentation arrived. As you stood in front of the class, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. When it was your turn to deliver your lines, you poured your heart into the performance, channeling every emotion.

To your surprise, Yuna leaned over after the presentation and whispered, “It wasn’t like you were entering each other’s nerves at all!” Her compliment made you beam with pride.

Seungmin, too, impressed you with his serious demeanor. For once, he seemed genuinely focused, and seeing him so dedicated made you realize how much he cared about doing well. You couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for both of you.

After the applause died down, your teacher announced, “I’m pleased to inform you all that I have chosen actors for the upcoming school play, and I choose…” She paused dramatically, glancing between you and Seungmin, “…you two!”

A wave of excitement surged through you, quickly followed by a burst of playful competitiveness. “See? You should thank me for picking a role that suits us both,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, I’m grateful, alright. I forgot for a moment how you despise your pick. In fact, I’m so happy I’m going to treat you to cake and coffee.”

“Yes!” you replied enthusiastically, unable to hide your grin. “I deserve a treat after all that hard work!”

“Sure, but only because I can’t let my scene partner go hungry,” he said, winking.

As you both headed out, the bickering continued, light-hearted and familiar, but beneath it was a shared joy that made the moment all the more special. You couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this experience was bringing you closer, even if you would never admit it.

At the café, the atmosphere buzzed with chatter and the rich aroma of coffee. You and Seungmin settled into a cozy corner, the tension from earlier melted away as you both began to chat more easily.

“So, do you actually love acting?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Absolutely!” you replied, a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve always idolized Emma Watson. I mean, come on, I look just like her!” You struck a dramatic pose, fluttering your eyelashes.

Seungmin looked at you, clearly unconvinced, with a “Are you kidding me?” expression. You burst out laughing, the sound ringing through the café.

“Okay, maybe not exactly like her,” you admitted, trying to catch your breath. “But a girl can dream, right?”

“Sure, if dreaming means torturing the rest of us,” he shot back with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I’m planning to major in acting when I get to college. It’s my dream!”

“Nice! I like acting too, but I’m thinking about majoring in music,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“Wait, you? You know how to sing?” You raised an eyebrow, unable to hide your skepticism.

“Wanna hear?” he challenged, a playful glint in his eye.

“Please no!” you teased, dramatically placing your hand on your heart. “I’d rather sleep forever than listen to your singing.”

Seungmin laughed, shaking his head. “You’re so mean! I think it would be the opposite”

“Mean? I’m just saving you from embarrassment,” you shot back with a grin. “You should thank me!”

"you'll regret what you're saying when I become famous."

As you exchanged playful banter, you realized that this was your way of connecting. The teasing and light insults had become second nature, and somehow, the hurtful words didn’t sting anymore. Instead, they felt like an essential part of your friendship, a comfortable rhythm that made you both laugh.

“Seriously though,” you said, softening a bit, “I think it’s awesome that you’re into music. We’ll be the dynamic duo of arts!”

“Absolutely! Just don’t expect me to duet with you anytime soon,” he joked, raising his cup in a mock toast.

“Deal!” you laughed, feeling lighter than you had in a long time.

--

As the practice for the play approached, your schedule became packed, leaving little time for anything else. Excitement bubbled inside you, especially since Hyunjin, a year ahead of you, was also in the cast. You could hardly wait for the next rehearsal.

One day, while waiting for practice to start, you found yourself lost in thought, staring at Hyunjin as he chatted with some friends. Seungmin, ever the observant one, caught you in the act.

“You look like a lovesick puppy,” he teased, a playful grin stretching across his face.

You quickly snapped out of your daydream, narrowing your eyes at him. “Shut up! I’m not!” You playfully punched his arm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make your point.

“Uh-huh, sure,” he laughed, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“You’re just jealous that I’m not staring at you like that!”

As partners playing lovers in the play, you often imagined being paired with Hyunjin. But the teacher had chosen Seungmin, and surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as you expected. You’d gotten used to the banter, and the awkwardness faded as practice continued.

Days passed, filled with rehearsals that drew you closer to Seungmin. The bickering remained, a constant source of amusement.

During one practice, while the two of you were warming up, Seungmin leaned over to Hyunjin, a mischievous smile on his face. “Hyunjin, have you already eaten? This monkey here asks,” he said, pointing at you as if you were some sort of pet.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “I am! Thank you for asking!” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, and she also said you were handsome,” Seungmin added, clearly enjoying the moment.

You felt your cheeks flush, and in a mock fit of outrage, you dashed toward him. “Seungmin!” you yelled, but he was quicker. He took off running, his laughter echoing through the practice room.

When you finally caught up to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck in a playful hug, making him squirm. “You’re such a tormentor!” you laughed, shaking him lightly.

From across the room, Hyunjin watched the whole scene unfold, a smile playing on his lips. “Are you sure they hate each other?” asked the director, who was shaking his head in disbelief.

Hyunjin just nodded, clearly entertained. “Definitely yes!” he replied, chuckling at your playful dynamic.

As you and Seungmin continued to tease each other, you realized that despite the playful bickering, there was an undeniable comfort between you—something that made every rehearsal just a little bit brighter.

---

The rain poured down in relentless sheets, and there you were, standing under a shed, glaring at the gray sky as if it were personally responsible for your soaked shoes. You had forgotten your umbrella—again.

As you waited, shivering slightly from the cold, you spotted Seungmin in the distance, standing confidently under a bright yellow umbrella. He was teasingly waving it over his head, a smirk plastered on his face as he called out, “Looks like someone forgot their umbrella again!”

You rolled your eyes and shot him a finger. “Very funny, Seungmin!”

He sauntered over, his grin widening with each step. "You wanna share?"

You rolled your eyes. "No thanks." you replied, crossing your arms defiantly.

“Okay, then. One word is enough for me.” He turned to leave, an exaggerated pout on his lips.

You hesitated for a moment, watching him walk away. “Wait!” you called out, and he turned back, an annoying smile in his lips. “Fine! We can share!”

Seungmin’s face broke into a triumphant grin as he rushed back to your side, positioning the umbrella over both of you. As you walked together, the atmosphere shifted from frustration to lightheartedness, laughter spilling out between the two of you.

“My shoulder is now wet,” Seungmin complained, feigning annoyance as he brushed water off his shirt.

“Is it my fault that you work out so much? Your shoulders are just too broad!” you shot back, unable to suppress a grin.

“Did you just compliment me?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with mischief.

“Ugh, it wasn’t a compliment!” you retorted, trying to keep a straight face.

“Then I’ll just have to embrace this wetness!” he said cheerfully, adjusting the umbrella with exaggerated flair. Before you knew it, he leaned closer, and water dripped off his shoulder, splashing onto you.

You burst into laughter, shoving him playfully. “You idiot!”

Seungmin laughed too, chasing after you as you dashed away, your heart racing with excitement. The rain seemed to fade into the background, the only sound being your giggles and the splatter of water against the pavement.

“You’re going to pay for that!” he yelled, laughter echoing through the downpour.

Just as you turned to look back, he splashed a wave of water right at you, soaking you completely. You retaliated, grabbing a handful of rainwater and splashing it back at him.

The playful battle raged on, and soon both of you were drenched, shivering yet exhilarated.

---

It was two weeks before the big play, and you were laser-focused on perfecting every detail. The pressure was on, and you found yourself spending more time practicing than ever. You wanted everything to be perfect, especially with the role you were playing. Seungmin, of course, was your partner in most scenes, so you had to rehearse together.

But as you delivered your lines, standing face-to-face with Seungmin, it became harder and harder to stay serious. Seungmin kept pulling funny faces behind his lines, causing you to break character and burst into laughter.

“Direct, please, punch him or something!” you whined dramatically, throwing your hands up. “He won’t stop!”

The director, seeing your exaggerated reaction, just chuckled. Meanwhile, the rest of the cast erupted in laughter.

"I’m serious now! I promise!" Seungmin said, shrugging off his antics.

You tried to continue, but the minute you looked at his serious face, you couldn’t hold back your laughter again. His deadpan expression was just too much.

“Okay, okay,” you said, wiping away a tear from laughing too hard. “Let’s take five. I need to compose myself.”

You sat down in the corner, still laughing. Seungmin joined you, shaking his head with a grin.

“Why are you always like this?” you asked, playfully slapping his arm. “We’re supposed to be professional!”

“Hey! I’m doing great! You’re the one laughing!” he protested with a smirk.

You couldn't deny it—something had shifted between you and Seungmin lately. There was this playful, easygoing dynamic now, and to your surprise, you liked it. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but the tension between the two of you had somehow dissolved, leaving behind a strange sort of camaraderie. And it felt... right.

---

Late again. You were quietly crawling your way toward your seat, praying that Seungmin wouldn’t notice. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be too preoccupied to see you sneaking in. But no such luck. Just as you thought you were in the clear, you saw Seungmin glancing in your direction, that infamous smirk already forming on his face. You knew that look all too well—he was up to something.

Desperate, you shot him a pleading look, mouthing a dramatic “Nooo,” and shaking your head in an exaggerated fashion. But the smirk only widened as he raised his hand.

“Ma'am!”

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the inevitable scolding. This is it, you thought. I’m done.

But instead, Seungmin’s voice rang out casually, “I forgot to give you the assignments I collected from the class.”

Your eyes flew open in shock. What?

“Oh right! Thank you, Seungmin, for the reminder.” The teacher smiled at him, clearly appreciating the help.

Seungmin stood up, cool as ever, handing over the pile of papers. He sat back down, a faint smirk still on his lips as if nothing unusual had happened.

You slid into your seat cautiously, your heart still racing. You glanced over at Seungmin, who met your gaze with a quick wink before turning back to his notebook. That was... new, you thought, utterly confused.

--

Practice resumed as usual, and you started to get into the flow of things. You liked rehearsing for the play more than you thought you would, especially with the creative freedom you were given. The only downside? Seungmin never missed an opportunity to get under your skin.

As you entered the practice room, sporting your freshly cut hair, Seungmin immediately took notice.

He eyed you up and down, a teasing grin already forming on his lips. “You know,” he began, casually leaning back in his chair, “short hair doesn’t really suit you.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where this was headed. “What are you talking about? I look pretty in it,” you shot back confidently, placing your hands on your hips.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, the playful grin still firmly in place. “Pretty? More like you look like a monkey who tried to give itself a haircut.”

“Excuse me?” You gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “I do not look like a monkey.”

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” Seungmin shrugged, clearly enjoying how flustered you were getting. He leaned closer, dropping his voice dramatically. “But just so you know, if we ever put you in a zoo, you’d fit right in.”

You gasped again, this time more dramatically, then pointed at him with a mock serious expression. “You’re just jealous because I’m out here looking cute and you can’t handle it.”

“Cute?” Seungmin laughed, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Whatever, I know the truth. You’re just afraid to admit that I’m rocking this look,” you teased back, refusing to back down.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, monkey,” he said, chuckling softly as you narrowed your eyes at him.

--

Another day in class, you were erasing the board when something hit the back of your head. Startled, you spun around, spotting Seungmin sitting there, whistling innocently. It was the most obvious thing ever—he didn’t even try to hide it.

You glared at him, trying to keep your cool. ‘Let it go’, you thought. ‘Don’t give him the satisfaction’. But then, another paper ball hit you.

"Seriously?" you muttered under your breath, turning to give him a sharp look.

This time, Seungmin didn’t bother pretending. He smiled and pointed to the paper ball on the floor. “Read it,” he said, nodding toward the crumpled note.

You raised your hand, ready to throw the eraser at him with full force.

“Wait!” Seungmin said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Just read it, will you?”

With a dramatic sigh, you picked up the paper, unfolding it. Written in his messy handwriting were the words: “Let’s eat. My treat.”

Before you could react, Jisung, who had been quietly observing the whole scene, burst into laughter. “What kind of lame drama am I witnessing?” he cackled.

You whipped around and threw the eraser at him instead, hitting him square in the shoulder. “Mind your own business, Jisung!”

“Hey! I’m just saying!” Jisung grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos.

Later that afternoon, you and Seungmin found yourselves at a seafood restaurant. Well, it was supposed to be Seungmin’s treat, but somehow the two of you ended up bickering over who would pay. Cause you wanna pay too.

“Let’s settle this the mature way—rock, paper, scissors,” Seungmin proposed, holding out his fist.

“Fine,” you agreed, thinking you had a good chance.

You both threw out your hands, and you won.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, triumph coursing through you for about five seconds. But then Seungmin began to order.

He grinned, shaking his head. “You’re gonna regret that.”

You frowned, confusion creeping in as the waiter approached. Seungmin rattled off an absurd number of dishes—enough to feed an entire village.

“Seungmin,” you hissed, eyes wide in disbelief, “do you really need to order enough food for 30 people?”

Seungmin leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed. “You said it was your treat. I’m just taking full advantage.”

You pouted, crossing your arms defiantly. “This isn’t fair. You’re evil.”

“Evil? No way,” he laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I prefer the term ‘strategically gifted.’”

As the waiter left with the long list of orders, you grumbled, “You should’ve thought about that before challenging me.”

In the end, Seungmin ended up paying for most of it, but you insisted on contributing, stubbornly pushing a few bills his way. He didn’t argue too much, shaking his head with an amused smile. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”

“Of course! If I’m going to be broke, I might as well be happy about it,” you retorted, a grin spreading across your face.

Seungmin laughed, clearly entertained by your determination. “Fair enough. Next time, I’ll just let you win without a fight.”

“Deal! But only if you promise not to order enough food for a small army,” you teased, raising your glass in a mock toast.

“Challenge accepted,” he replied, clinking his glass against yours, both of you laughing at the absurdity of it all.

--

Another rehearsal, and you were sitting on the sidelines, legs crossed as you watched your classmates perform. You had just finished your scene and were still buzzing from the energy of it all. The lights cast a warm glow on the stage, and you found yourself quietly admiring the atmosphere, the stars of the production shining brightly in your eyes.

Suddenly, the director's voice broke through your thoughts. “Seungmin, can you step in as the main character for a bit? Our lead’s absent today.”

“Sure,” Seungmin replied, standing up with an easy confidence. He made his way to the center of the stage, and you prepared for him to be awkward or hesitant. Instead, he surprised you.

As he took his place, he transformed. His movements were smooth and assured, his voice resonating with sincerity. You couldn’t help but lean forward, captivated. He moved across the stage effortlessly, delivering his lines with an authenticity that made you forget you were watching your friend.

Wow, he was really talented.

You shook your head slightly, trying to push the thought away. No way could you think Seungmin was handsome. That was just absurd.

Then came a scene where he had to hug the female lead. As he pulled her into a gentle embrace, your heart gave a small, inexplicable flutter. The warmth of his presence seemed to radiate even from where you sat, and you felt an unfamiliar tightening in your stomach.

You tried to shrug it off, focusing on the performance, but the feeling lingered, swirling with an odd mix of admiration and something else entirely. Watching him, you realized you were seeing a different side of Seungmin—one that was undeniably charismatic and captivating.

The rehearsal continued, but you found it harder to concentrate, your thoughts drifting back to the way he had held her, how effortlessly he embodied the character. What was happening to you? You glanced away, trying to regain your composure, but the strange flutter remained, echoing in your mind long after the scene ended.

You were still lost in thought about the rehearsal when Hyunjin sat down beside you. “You look really pretty with your hair like that,” he commented with a smile.

You blushed at the compliment, glancing down. “Thanks! Seungmin said it doesn’t suit me.”

Hyunjin chuckled softly. “Seungmin? He’s just teasing you. That’s his way of telling you he likes it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

“Definitely,” Hyunjin replied with a smirk. “He wouldn’t bother teasing you if he didn’t like it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “He always tease me.”

Hyunjin leaned back, still smiling. “How did you two meet, anyway?”

“We’re neighbors,” you explained. “Since elementary school. We were always competing—who could get the best grades, who could finish their homework first. It’s been like that forever.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Do you hate him?”

You laughed, thinking for a moment. “If I could push him off a cliff, I probably would.”

Hyunjin grinned. “Would you really, though?”

You hesitated, suddenly unsure. “...yes,” you admitted, half-joking.

Hyunjin chuckled, clearly sensing something. “Well, I hope I don’t hear about you two pushing each other off cliffs anytime soon.”

You shrugged with a playful smile. “No promises.”

--

Later, you were eating peacefully in the cafeteria, minding your own business, when Seungmin plopped his tray down across from you. He sat down without a word, digging into his food.

You raised an eyebrow, already knowing what was coming. “Let me guess... your friends are coming?”

Seungmin glanced at you lazily, a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. “No, they don’t wanna see you.”

You pouted, pretending to be offended. “I miss Hyunjin.”

“Then ask him out,” Seungmin replied lazily, taking a bite of his bread.

You paused mid-bite, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him. “You think I have a chance with him?”

Seungmin smirked, shaking his head. “No, he hates monkeys like you who throw erasers at people.”

You gasped, glaring at him. “I do not look like a monkey!”

“Sure, whatever helps you,” Seungmin teased, his grin widening. “And for the record, Hyunjin’s probably just being nice.”

You frowned, “He said I was pretty with my new haircut.”

Seungmin scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know how much he lies? He probably tells that to everyone.”

You didn’t bother arguing. Instead, you decided to change tactics. “Help me get him to go out with me, then.”

Seungmin snorted. “Do it on your own. You’re big enough for that.”

You groaned dramatically, leaning across the table toward him. “If you help me, I’ll buy you something. Anything you want.”

Seungmin looked at you, considering it for a moment before shrugging. “Buy me a house."

You rolled your eyes, giving him a deadpan stare. “Never mind. I’ll do it myself.”

He smirked, clearly enjoying how easily you gave up. “Good luck, Juliet.”

--

It was Friday again, and somehow, you found yourself seated next to Seungmin—again. This time, however, you arrived early, a full thirty minutes ahead of your usual time. Feeling tired, you laid your head on the desk, hoping to catch a quick nap.

Just as you were dozing off, you felt a sharp knock on the desk, startling you awake. You looked up to see Seungmin grinning down at you, clearly enjoying your misery.

“Missing me that much, huh?” he teased. “You’re thirty minutes earlier than usual.”

You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “We basically see each other every day. I’m already sick of it,” you replied with a shrug.

Seungmin chuckled, settling into his seat beside you. “You’ll survive. Anyway, I need to copy your assignment.”

You blinked, sitting up straight. “We had an assignment?”

“Seriously?” Seungmin raised an eyebrow, holding back a laugh. He reached into his bag and pulled out his own paper, handing it to you. “Here, just copy mine before Ma’am shows up.”

You took the paper from him, still confused. “Wait, I thought you said you didn’t do the assignment either?”

“I forgot that I had,” Seungmin said casually, smirking. “Now hurry up before it’s too late.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your pen and started copying the assignment, scribbling quickly while glancing at the door every few seconds to make sure the teacher wasn’t close. As you worked, you couldn’t help but notice the shift between you and Seungmin. There was a time when you would’ve refused to help him—or worse, argued with him endlessly. But now? It felt... different. There was a weird sense of comfort in these small moments.

"What now? does our fighting over who finish assignments first done?" you laugh,

"Then give me back my paper. I've changed my mind."

You didn’t hate it. In fact, you kind of liked it.

--

 Seungmin was sipping on his water bottle backstage when Hyunjin approached him, all casual as ever.

“Seungmin,” Hyunjin started, leaning against the wall beside him. “Do you like her?”

Seungmin paused mid-sip, glancing sideways at Hyunjin with a raised brow. “What are you talking about?”

Hyunjin gave him a knowing look. “I’ve known you for years, dude. I know when you like someone.”

Seungmin snorted, trying to brush it off. “Why would that matter to you?”

“Well,” Hyunjin said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “if I asked her out, would you get mad?”

Seungmin’s eyes widened slightly before he quickly masked it, his expression turning nonchalant. “Why would I care?”

Hyunjin tilted his head, smirking as if testing Seungmin’s reaction. “Really?”

Seungmin waved his hand dismissively, though his jaw tightened slightly. “What am I, a matchmaker for you two? Why are you even asking for my opinion? I don’t care.”

Hyunjin chuckled and slung an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders. “Thanks, bro. That’s all I needed to know.”

As Hyunjin walked away, Seungmin clenched his water bottle a little too tightly. He wasn’t sure what irritated him more—the fact that Hyunjin seemed interested in you, or the fact that you two were making him feel like some kind of third wheel. Whatever it was, it was starting to get under his skin.

--

Seungmin was making his way back to the classroom, balancing a small box of milk he’d grabbed for you from the cafeteria. He'd overheard you mention wanting one earlier, so without a second thought, he picked one up, hoping to surprise you.

As he neared the classroom door, he paused when he heard your voice. You were deep in conversation with one of your friends, and for some reason, curiosity got the better of him. He stood just outside, hidden by the doorframe, listening.

"Why do you hate Seungmin so much, anyway?" your friend asked.

Seungmin’s ears perked up at the question, his grip tightening around the milk carton. He wasn’t sure why he was still standing there, but he couldn’t move. He just waited.

You sighed before answering, "He's so annoying. Always teasing me, always acting like he’s better than me. He’s infuriating."

Each word hit him harder than he expected, like tiny jabs that made his heart sink deeper and deeper. He already knows this what you felt for him but he doesn't know why it still hurts. He could feel his chest tighten, his breath coming out a little shallower as he stayed rooted to the spot.

But then you added something else, something he missed. A quieter tone followed the harshness of your earlier words. It was softer, almost like you were reflecting on something.

"Lately though... I don’t know. I guess I’ve started to see that maybe he’s not that bad."

But Seungmin didn’t hear those words. He had already turned away, stepping back before he could catch the change in your tone. His heart, now heavier, urged him to walk in the opposite direction, so that’s exactly what he did. The milk, once meant to be a small gesture of kindness, now felt pointless in his hand.

PE class rolled around, and with no rehearsal scheduled, you entered the gym, spotting Seungmin as usual. You both ended up being partners again—something that had become routine at this point. There were no protests, no over-the-top objections. Just quiet acceptance.

The first activity was jogging, but you immediately noticed something was off. Normally, Seungmin would be teasing you the whole time, making snarky comments about how slow you were. But today, he was silent.

"One minute," you said, reading his time on the stopwatch. Normally, this would prompt a laugh from him, followed by some sarcastic remark about how you'd be the first one caught in a zombie apocalypse.

But today, he just nodded and moved on to the next activity without a word. Weird.

The next exercise was push-ups. You barely managed four before collapsing, groaning in exhaustion. Seungmin, on the other hand, breezed through twenty without breaking a sweat. You tried to compliment him in a lowkey way, but he didn’t react—just kept going like a machine.

What is up with him?

Then came the sit-ups. You held down Seungmin’s toes, though it didn’t seem like he needed any help. His form was perfect, and he didn’t even look your way. The proximity of the exercise made you search for his eyes, but every time you tried to make eye contact, he avoided looking at you.

When it was your turn, you felt exhausted by your fifth sit-up, and Seungmin held your toes firmly in place. This time, he watched you more intently, though you couldn’t see him since you were focusing on the exercise. Only when you glanced up did he quickly avert his gaze.

After class, you caught him trying to leave and stopped him in his tracks.

“Seungmin, what’s going on with you?” you asked, planting yourself in front of him.

He gave you a blank look. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re acting... weirdly weird today. Did something happen?”

Seungmin sighed, clearly not in the mood for a conversation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said flatly, brushing past you.

You caught his arm before he could fully walk away. “Hey, you can talk to me. If something’s wrong, just tell me.”

He paused, looking at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before saying coldly, “Why would I? We’re not friends.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. You froze, watching as he walked away, feeling a strange pang in your chest.

Later, you sat next to Hyunjin, watching Seungmin perform his scenes on stage. He still ignored you, going through the motions of his role flawlessly, but there was no denying the distance between you now. The way he looked past you, as if you weren’t there, made you feel... sad.

“What’s up with him?” you muttered to Hyunjin. “He’s been acting strange all day.”

Hyunjin smirked. “He’s probably mad about what I told him.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”

Hyunjin chuckled softly, leaning closer. “I told him I like you. And that I was going to ask you out.”

You blinked in surprise, staring at him. “Wait... what?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why else would he be jealous?”

“Jealous?” you repeated, confused. “Why would he be jealous?”

Hyunjin let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know if you and Seungmin are both idiots, or if you’re just blind.”

“Ouch,” you said, feigning offense, though your mind was spinning. Jealous? Seungmin?

Hyunjin’s laugh faded into a small smile, and after a moment of silence, he sighed. “Wow, my confession really flew under the radar, huh?”

You looked at him, feeling a little guilty. Oh... right. His confession.

You smiled awkwardly. “Wait, was it serious? Or were you just joking?”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “You think I’m a joker like that puppy?” He nodded toward Seungmin, who was still on stage.

Normally, this would be the moment where you’d blush, stammer, and lose your mind. But something didn’t feel right. There was something nagging at you, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I...”

Before you could respond, Hyunjin raised a hand, cutting you off. “Actually, you know what? Don’t answer me yet. I’ll wait until after the play presentation.”

He smiled, and you smiled back, though it felt forced.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m just getting my water bottle,” Seungmin’s voice broke the moment as he stepped between you two, grabbing his bottle.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he was gone before you could. You stared after him, feeling more confused than ever.

-

In the past, this type of bickering was normal between you two. You had always gotten on each other's nerves, and usually, you'd be happy to ignore him, savoring the peace and quiet. But this time felt different. Why were you so affected by his silence? Why did it feel like a hollow pit had formed in your chest, waiting for him to fill it? You hated him, didn’t you? You used to hate him—right? But now, all you felt was a growing sense of confusion and frustration, like you were waiting for something that never came.

Seungmin had been avoiding you for three days now, and at first, you brushed it off, assuming he had something on his mind. But as time went on, the weight of his silence pressed harder. It wasn’t just affecting the play—it was affecting you. His avoidance felt more personal than it ever had before, and it gnawed at you until you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

"Seungmin, let's talk." You caught up to him backstage, your voice firmer than usual, trying to mask the vulnerability you were starting to feel.

"Why?" he responded coldly, not even looking in your direction.

You blinked, taken aback by the sharpness of his tone. "What do you mean, 'why'? We obviously need to talk about something."

"I don't want to," he replied like a stubborn child, folding his arms defensively.

You groaned, frustration bubbling inside you. "Stop giving me that bratty attitude, Seungmin. Let's just talk, okay?" Without thinking, you grabbed his wrist, dragging him toward the exit door for privacy.

Once you were both outside, you turned to face him, still gripping his wrist. "Are you angry at me?" you asked softly, though the edge of desperation in your voice betrayed you.

Seungmin pulled his hand away from your grasp, shrugging. "We're normally angry at each other," he muttered, staring at the ground as if avoiding your gaze would shield him from the conversation.

You furrowed your brows, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Seungmin, we both know something has changed between us. We’re… sort of friends now, right? Why are you acting like this?"

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Why? This is normal. We’ve always been like this. Why are you suddenly acting like something's different?"

Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard. "So I’m still just an enemy to you?" The words slipped out, raw and vulnerable, and you hated yourself for how much it hurt. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back quickly. "Because for me—" Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to continue. "For me, things changed. I’ll be honest with you. I hated you so much before, Seungmin. I mean, if I could’ve thrown you into the fire pit, I would’ve done it in a heartbeat." You laughed bitterly, trying to lighten the mood, but your heart ached as you realized the truth. "But now, I see you as a friend."

Seungmin's breath hitched at your confession, and for a moment, his walls seemed to crack. But then his jaw clenched, and he shook his head. "No."

You stared at him, bewildered. "No? What do you mean 'no'?"

His voice was strained, like he was forcing the words out. "Why are you doing this to me? Why can’t you just focus on Hyunjin and pretend like I’m not even here?"

"Why would I do that?" you asked, confusion lacing your words.

Seungmin's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing in frustration. "Because you like him," he bit out. "You like Hyunjin, and you’ve hated me since the day we met."

You stepped closer, lowering your voice, "Seungmin… I told you. We're past that stage of hating each other."

His laugh was hollow, bitter. "You’ve hated me since we were kids. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? But you know what? I preferred it that way. I’d rather you keep hating me than whatever this is."

You were silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. It hit you hard—the realization that Seungmin had always been more affected by your feelings than you’d thought. And now, he was clinging to the past because it was easier to accept your hatred than deal with the uncertainty of whatever you were becoming now.

"But I don't hate you anymore," you said softly, your voice gentle but firm.

His gaze flickered up to meet yours for the briefest second before he looked away again, a storm of emotions brewing behind his eyes. His fists clenched at his sides, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, but instead, he shook his head, taking a deep breath.

"Then what do you feel now?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

It was a question you hadn’t fully answered yourself. What did you feel? What had changed between you two? The hate had faded long ago, replaced by something warmer, something deeper. But how could you put it into words when you weren’t sure what those feelings even were?

"I don’t know," you admitted, your voice trembling. "But I know I don’t want to keep ignoring it. I don’t want to keep pretending like we’re still stuck in the past. I care about you, Seungmin, and I—"

He cut you off, his voice sharp but shaky, "Stop. Don’t say it. Please."

His plea was laced with fear, and you could see it now—the fear of getting hurt, of being vulnerable. Seungmin had always hidden behind his teasing and sharp words, but now, as he stood before you, walls crumbling, you realized just how much he had been protecting himself all along.

"Seungmin..." You took a step closer, your hand hesitating before reaching out to touch his arm. "You don’t have to push me away."

He closed his eyes, his shoulders tense, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away again. But then, he sighed, the weight of his emotions too heavy to bear alone anymore. "You don’t get it," he whispered, his voice raw. "I’m scared. Scared that if you don’t hate me, you’ll realize… I’ve liked you for so long, and I don’t know how to handle that."

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. The tension, the unspoken words, all of it finally made sense. You felt your chest tighten as you processed his words, the vulnerability behind them cutting deep.

Seungmin liked you.

And somehow, deep down, you’d known.

-

The day of the play had arrived, and for the first time, a tight knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. You'd performed in front of people before, but this time felt different. This time, you weren’t just performing in front of a crowd—you were performing in front of him.

As you paced backstage, waiting for the curtain to rise, you couldn’t help but glance around anxiously, searching for Seungmin. The others were already in place, getting ready for the opening act. But Seungmin… he was nowhere to be seen.

Your heart raced as minutes ticked by. What if he didn’t show up? What if his feelings, the tension between you, had driven him away? You shook your head, trying to focus, but the anxiety clung to you like a second skin.

The stage manager called for the cast to take their places, and you stepped toward the stage, dread settling deep in your chest. The lights dimmed, the curtains rustled, and the play was about to begin. But Seungmin—where was he?

Just as the opening music started and your heart sank, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned and saw him. Seungmin, slightly out of breath, his eyes locking with yours as he walked into place. He gave you a small, reassuring nod, and you felt a rush of relief. He had made it.

You took a deep breath, letting his presence calm you, and when the curtains finally rose, you stepped into your role. The lights blinded you for a second, and the sound of the audience rustled in the background, but none of that mattered. Your focus was on one person.

Seungmin.

You went through your lines, heart pounding in your chest. The audience faded away, and it was just the two of you on stage. But when you looked into Seungmin’s eyes, delivering your lines, it felt too real—like every word you spoke wasn’t part of the play but something deeper.

And then came the moment. The pivotal line.

As you reached the climax of your scene, Seungmin stepped closer, his gaze steady and intense. “I love you,” he said, his voice clear and sincere.

Your breath caught in your throat. The weight of his words, delivered in that moment, felt electric. It wasn’t just a line; it was a declaration that cut through the scripted lines and went straight to your heart.

Tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill over. You weren’t supposed to cry here—not in this scene—but it was impossible to hold back the emotion. The intensity of the moment, standing before him as he revealed his feelings, overwhelmed you.

Seungmin’s gaze softened, and for a second, the audience faded away. It was just you and him, wrapped in a moment that felt like the truth finally breaking through.

You tried to respond, but the weight of his confession hung in the air, filling the space between you. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

The play continued, but all you could think about was Seungmin’s words. He had spoken them as part of the script, but they felt so real, so genuine. Something shifted in the atmosphere between you two—something undeniable.

As the final act came to a close, and you took your bow, the audience erupted in applause. But even then, your eyes were only on Seungmin, wondering if he felt the same shift in the air between you two. Something had changed. Something profound. And while you weren’t sure where it would lead, for now, you were content just to hold on to the moment, letting it linger as the lights dimmed and the curtains closed.

For now, the stage had played its part, but what came next was something only time would tell.

-

a reblog, like, and comment is very much appreciated to keep me going. thanks for reading, love!

sorry for being inactive lately and not responding to any of your messages i appreciate you all love you sm!!

part 2 here!

[reidmarieprentiss]

Lost in Translation: Part Four

Summary: You and Spencer talk again, and again, and again...

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: insecurities, discussions of past issues, mildly suggestive content, they kiss y'all!!!

Word count: 6k

a/n: i think next part will have smut........

main masterlist prologue part one part two part three

Spencer let out a deep sigh, leaning back into the couch as his frustration bubbled over. “I tried, Derek. I really tried. It was going so well, but then I had to open my big mouth and ask her to try again.”

Derek gave him a look full of pity, his brow furrowed as he shook his head slightly. “Reid…”

“I know, man. I messed up—again,” Spencer interrupted, running a hand through his hair with more aggression than necessary. “But it just felt so… right, being with her again. I thought she felt it too.”

“Listen, kid,” Derek said, clapping a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe she did feel it, but that doesn’t mean she’s ready to jump into anything right this second. How many times do I have to tell you to have patience? I feel like a damn broken record over here.” Derek chuckled, shaking his head.

Spencer let out a light laugh in return, his shoulders relaxing slightly under Derek’s grip. “You’re right. You’re always right, aren’t you?”

Derek’s eyes lit up with mock surprise as he straightened up, placing his hand over his chest. “What? Dr. Reid saying I’m right? Can I get that in writing?” He reached into his pocket dramatically and pulled out his phone, holding it up. “Actually, here—just say that one more time for me. I’ll record it for posterity.”

Spencer grinned despite himself, rolling his eyes and pushing Derek’s phone away with a playful shove. “Don’t push your luck.”

Derek smirked, dropping the phone back into his pocket. “Hey, I’m just saying—it’s not every day you admit I’m right. Gotta savor it.”

Spencer shook his head, a small smile still lingering on his face as the tension in his chest began to ease. For a moment, he felt like he could breathe again, even if the ache in his heart for you still lingered.

“What are you two hooligans getting up to over here?” JJ asked with a grin as she walked into the bullpen, a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

“Spencer just said I’m ‘always right,’” Derek announced proudly, puffing out his chest like he’d just won an award.

JJ froze mid-sip, her eyes wide with exaggerated disbelief. “No way!” she exclaimed, her tone dripping with mock shock as she quickly set her coffee down and made a beeline for Spencer. 

Before Spencer could react, JJ placed a dramatic hand on his forehead, tilting her head as if checking for a fever. “Are you feeling okay, genius? Should I call the medics?”

“Stop it!” Spencer laughed, batting her hand away while glaring at Derek, who was practically doubled over with laughter. “Ha ha, very funny.”

JJ stepped back, grinning mischievously. “I mean, I just needed to make sure. You admitting someone else is right—let alone Derek—is like a once-in-a-lifetime event.”

“Exactly!” Derek chimed in, still chuckling as he crossed his arms smugly. “It’s like the universe is finally aligning.”

Spencer sighed dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose as he muttered, “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Not a chance,” JJ teased, nudging him playfully. “But seriously, what brought on this historic moment? Did Derek hypnotize you or something?”

Spencer shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “He just… gave me some advice. And, for once, it wasn’t completely terrible.”

“For once?” Derek scoffed, his tone mock-offended as he placed a hand over his heart. “Boy, I’m out here changing your life, and this is the thanks I get?”

JJ laughed, leaning against the desk. “Careful, Spencer. If Derek keeps this up, he might start charging you for all this wisdom.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “Noted. I’ll be sure to consult my budget for his ‘life coaching’ fees.”

JJ and Derek shared a laugh, their banter lightening the mood as Spencer allowed himself to feel a little less burdened, if only for a moment.

—

After leaving the coffee shop, your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. You couldn’t stop replaying the moment Spencer had asked if you could try again. His eyes, so full of hope and longing, lingered in your thoughts like an unresolved melody. Part of you wanted to say yes, to leap into his arms and believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time. But the rational part of you—the one that had been hurt and left behind before—refused to let you dive in headfirst without caution.

You found yourself texting Austin as you paced your living room, your thoughts too jumbled to keep to yourself.

Hey, you free to chat?

It wasn’t long before your phone buzzed with their reply.  

Always. Call me in 5.

True to their word, Austin answered the call, their cheerful tone a comforting balm to your frazzled nerves. “Alright, spill. What’s got you all worked up?”

You sighed, sinking into your couch as you tucked your legs beneath you. “It’s Spencer. We had coffee last weekend, and it was... great, actually. We laughed, we talked. But then, of course, he asked if we could ‘try again.’” The words spilled out in a rush, your voice tinged with exasperation and something you didn’t want to name—hope.

“Oh boy,” Austin said knowingly. “What did you say?”

“I told him no. Or, well, I said I didn’t know, but basically no. I just—it’s too soon. We’ve barely started being friends again, and I don’t even know if I trust him like that yet.”

“Fair,” Austin said, their tone thoughtful. “But... how did it feel? Him asking, I mean.”

You hesitated, biting your lip as you searched for the right words. “It felt... complicated. Part of me wanted to say yes, but the other part of me—ugh, I don’t know. It’s just too much, too fast. I need time to figure out what I even want.”

“Sounds like you’re in self-protection mode,” Austin observed. “Which, honestly, is fair given the history. But let me ask you this—do you want to give him another chance? Not now, necessarily, but eventually?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with implications. “I don’t know,” you admitted softly. “I think... I think I might. But only if he can prove he’s really changed. I can’t go through that kind of heartbreak again.”

“Totally valid,” Austin said, their voice full of understanding. “You don’t owe him anything right now. Take your time, figure out what you need to heal and what you want moving forward. And if he’s serious about making things right, he’ll wait.”

You nodded, even though they couldn’t see you, their words settling into the cracks of your fractured confidence. “Thanks, Austin.”

“Of course, babe,” they replied warmly. “Now, let’s distract you for a bit. Have you seen that absolutely heinous lamp I found at the thrift store? Hold on, I’ll send you a picture…”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and for a while, you let yourself laugh and breathe. But as the call ended and you were left alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t help but wonder what the future held—for you, for Spencer, and for the feelings you weren’t quite sure you were ready to face yet.

If you’re serious about me, about us, prove it.

—

If you’re serious about me, about us, prove it.

Spencer spent the next 24 hours meticulously planning. He wanted everything to be perfect—not just to impress you, but to show you how serious he was about making things right. His mind raced as he pieced together every detail, ensuring the date would reflect the effort and thought you deserved. By the time he hit "send" on his message with the time and location, his heart was pounding, but he felt a flicker of hope. 

When the text pinged on your phone, your stomach dropped.  

7 PM. Meet me at the library on  Street. I'll see you there.  

You stared at the screen, anxiety coursing through you. Was this a mistake? Could you really trust him again? The nerves were relentless, but you knew if you didn’t at least try, you’d always wonder what might have been.  

So, after pacing your apartment for far too long and going through several outfit changes, you pulled yourself together, took a deep breath, and headed out the door.  

—

When you arrived at the library, the sun was just beginning to set, casting long shadows across the cobblestone pathway leading to the entrance. The building stood tall and majestic, its arched windows glowing warmly from the lights within. You hesitated on the steps, your heart pounding. This was more than just a date; this was a test of trust, a chance to see if Spencer truly meant what he said.

You spotted him immediately as you stepped inside, standing by a row of bookshelves with his back to you. He was dressed in his signature blazer and sweater combo, his hair slightly messy as though he’d run his hands through it one too many times. A soft smile tugged at your lips despite yourself—he hadn’t changed much, yet there was something different in his posture, a quiet determination that hadn’t been there before.

“Hi,” you greeted softly, your voice cutting through the hushed ambiance of the library.

Spencer turned, and for a brief moment, his expression was unreadable, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were there. Then his face broke into a warm smile, his relief evident.

“You came,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with gratitude.

“I almost didn’t,” you admitted, stepping closer. “But… curiosity got the better of me.”

He chuckled nervously, gesturing toward a small table tucked away in a cozy corner. “I thought we could sit and talk here. It’s quiet, and, well… it seemed like the right place.”

You followed him to the table, noticing the small details he’d prepared: two cups of tea steaming gently, a plate of cookies, and a single red rose in a narrow vase. It was simple, but it was undeniably Spencer—thoughtful, understated, and sincere.

As you sat down, Spencer cleared his throat, his hands fidgeting slightly as he worked to steady himself. His gaze flickered to yours, vulnerable but hopeful. “I know there’s no more textbooks or lesson plans…” he began softly, his voice carrying a nostalgic warmth, “…but I was hoping we could try to rekindle where we started.”

Your breath caught, his words hitting you harder than you’d anticipated. He wasn’t just referencing the past; he was inviting you to rediscover the foundation of what once brought you together. The shared laughter over obscure facts, the countless nights studying side by side, the unspoken connection you’d both felt but never fully acknowledged back then. 

You were so touched that for a moment, you couldn’t find the words to respond. Your throat tightened as you blinked back the sudden sting of emotion. He had this way of saying exactly what you needed to hear without even realizing it.

“You mean… back to when I was too scared to borrow a pen from you because I thought you’d think I was incompetent?” you teased lightly, hoping to diffuse the weight of the moment just enough to steady yourself.

Spencer smiled shyly, his lips curving in that familiar way that always softened your heart. “Well, if we’re being honest, I was just as scared of you. I thought you’d figure out how socially inept I was and decide I wasn’t worth the effort.”

You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping as you leaned forward slightly. “Spencer, you were the first person who made me feel like I wasn’t alone. Like I had someone who understood me. I never would’ve walked away from that, then or now.”

His gaze held yours, a flicker of something deep and unspoken passing between you. “I feel the same way,” he said, his voice quieter now. “That’s why I couldn’t let go—not then, and not now.”

You felt your heart stir, the walls you’d carefully built beginning to crack under the weight of his words. Still, you reminded yourself to tread carefully. 

“I think,” you said softly, your voice steady but tentative, “that we can try. We can take small steps, see where it takes us. But Spencer, if we’re going to do this, I need to know that it’s different this time.”

“It will be,” he promised, his tone resolute yet gentle. “I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a spark of cautious optimism. Maybe this was the beginning of something new—something built on the ashes of what once was, but stronger this time.

Spencer chuckled as he stirred his tea. “Do you remember that time we stayed up all night trying to understand quantum entanglement for fun? And by ‘we,’ I mean you made me explain it while you pretended to care.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Oh, please. I was deeply invested—right up until the part where you used an equation to explain how two particles could communicate faster than the speed of light. Then I was just trying not to fall asleep.”

Spencer smirked, leaning back slightly. “Well, it only took you, what, three cups of coffee to start comparing quantum physics to a long-distance relationship?”

You covered your face with your hands, groaning dramatically. “Don’t remind me! I’m pretty sure I tried to convince you that the particles were ‘soulmates,’ and you looked at me like I had three heads.”

“I didn’t look at you like that,” Spencer protested, though his grin gave him away. “Okay, maybe a little. But to be fair, your analogy wasn’t that bad. Misguided, but not bad.”

“You mean, not scientifically sound,” you teased, nudging his arm lightly.

“Exactly,” he said, his voice warm. “But it was endearing.”

The word "endearing" hung in the air for a moment, softening the space between you both.

As the conversation continued to flow, Spencer found himself more relaxed, his shoulders no longer as tense as they were when you first arrived. He tilted his head, watching you laugh at one of his stories. “You know, I always admired how easily you could talk to people. Even back then, you just… lit up a room.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, his compliment catching you off guard. “Spencer Reid, was that a flirtatious compliment? Because it kind of sounds like one.”

He blinked, momentarily caught. “Uh… well, I suppose it could be interpreted that way. Was it… bad?”

You grinned, leaning in slightly. “No, it wasn’t bad. I just didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Oh, I definitely have it in me,” he said, surprising you with his quick response. His eyes sparkled with a confidence you weren’t quite used to seeing in him.

Your smile widened. “Alright, Dr. Reid, prove it.”

Spencer’s lips twitched as he leaned forward ever so slightly. “Well, for starters, I already remembered your tea preference. And I’m fairly certain I remember the exact way you used to look at me when you were trying to figure out how to ask me something without sounding like you didn’t know the answer.”

Your breath hitched, his unexpected boldness leaving you momentarily speechless. “Oh?” you managed, tilting your head playfully. “And how exactly did I look at you?”

His voice softened, but his gaze didn’t waver. “Like I was the only person in the room who could give you what you needed.”

That stopped you cold, your teasing grin slipping into something more vulnerable. You couldn’t help but let the warmth of his words wash over you, though you quickly rallied, determined not to let him win so easily.

“Well,” you said, your voice dropping just a fraction, “what if I told you I’m still looking at you like that?”

Spencer’s breath caught, and for a moment, he was entirely still, his confidence melting into stunned awe. “I’d say…” He cleared his throat, clearly working to keep his composure. “I’d say you just took my breath away.”

You bit your lip, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Good. That’s only fair, considering you’ve been doing that to me since I got here.”

Spencer let out a breathless laugh, his cheeks flushing a deep pink. “Uh, well–hmm.”

“Cat got your tongue, doctor?” you teased with a grin, leaning back in your chair as you sipped your coffee.

That seemed to snap him out of his flustered daze, his brows furrowing in that familiar, overthinking way you remembered so well. “You know,” he started, tilting his head slightly, “I’ve always hated that phrase. It doesn’t make any logical sense. Cats don’t take people’s tongues. There’s no historical precedent for it, no documented cases where someone lost the ability to speak due to a feline intervention.”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing, nearly spilling your coffee in the process. “Oh my god, Spencer! It’s just a figure of speech!”

“I know,” he continued, undeterred, clearly warming up to his own tangent. “But it’s such an absurd one. Where did it even come from? Why a cat? Why not something more plausible, like—like a dog grabbing someone’s shoe or a bird stealing someone’s sandwich?”

“A bird stealing a sandwich isn’t the same as losing your words!” you argued, still laughing. “You’re overthinking it!”

“I’m not overthinking it,” Spencer replied earnestly, though the hint of a smile betrayed his enjoyment of your reaction. “I just think if we’re going to use metaphors, they should at least have some basis in reality. Cats are more likely to steal food or hide in cardboard boxes than… well, than abscond with someone’s ability to speak.”

By this point, your laughter was uncontrollable. “Spencer! You’re ridiculous!”

He smiled fully then, his confidence peeking through again as he leaned forward slightly. “Ridiculous? Or charming?” he asked, his tone teasing but his gaze warm and intent.

You shook your head, still catching your breath. “Okay, fine. Charming. But seriously, only you could turn a harmless phrase into a dissertation-worthy debate.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, his grin widening.

“It was,” you admitted softly, and for a moment, the air between you shifted, the playful banter giving way to something more tender. Spencer’s eyes softened, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made your heart skip.

“Good,” he said quietly, his voice low but sure. “Because I don’t want to be anything less than that to you.”

Your laughter faded as the weight of his words sank in, leaving you momentarily speechless. And, ironically, you thought to yourself, maybe the cat really did have your tongue this time.

The dim glow of the library's remaining lights cast long shadows on the floor as you and Spencer slowly made your way to the exit. Neither of you wanted the night to end, but the steady flick of lights turning off above you left no choice. You carried the remnants of your evening—books, notes, and tea cups—in a comfortable silence, the atmosphere thick with unspoken thoughts.

When you reached the door, you turned to him, your voice soft but sincere. “Thank you, Spencer.” 

He stopped in his tracks, his honey-brown eyes locking onto yours. “Thank you for coming,” he replied, his voice low and warm, almost reverent. 

You hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten until his hand gently rose, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your forehead. The tenderness of the gesture sent your heart into overdrive. Spencer was standing so close now, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips with a longing so palpable it made your breath hitch.

For a moment, it felt like time froze. You couldn’t look away from him, the vulnerability in his expression unraveling something deep inside you. It was the way he looked at you—like you hung the stars and the moon—that left you utterly speechless. And as he began to lean in, his intent clear, your heart pounded in your chest.

But instinct kicked in, and at the last second, you turned your cheek.

His lips landed softly on your cheek instead of your lips, and the subtle sound of the unintended kiss echoed louder in his head than it had any right to. His stomach twisted, shrinking into a knot of regret and self-recrimination. 

Oh no, he thought. I moved too fast again. 

Spencer froze, his hand lingering awkwardly in the space between you as he pulled back. His face flushed a deep crimson as he searched your expression for any sign of reassurance, an explanation, anything that might ease the growing panic. “I—I’m sorry,” he stammered, his voice breaking slightly. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Spencer, it’s okay,” you interrupted softly, stepping back to create a little space. “It’s not that I didn’t want to—” You paused, trying to gather your words carefully, feeling your own wave of guilt for how you’d reacted. “I just… I’m not ready yet.”

His shoulders sagged slightly in relief, though his disappointment was still evident. “No, you’re right,” he said quickly, running a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have— I wasn’t trying to push you. I’m sorry, really.”

You gave him a small, understanding smile, placing a hand lightly on his arm. “Spencer, tonight was wonderful. And I’m not saying never. I just need time.”

He nodded, trying to mask the sting with a faint smile of his own. “Of course. I understand. I’m just glad you came.”

“I’m glad I came too,” you said softly, squeezing his arm before letting your hand drop. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. But in his heart, he was already replaying the moment over and over, wondering if he’d ever have the chance to try again—this time without messing it up.

—

You and Spencer had shared a few more dates over the following weeks. He’d been nothing but patient, and you finally allowed him the smallest kiss one evening, a tentative brush of lips that sent your heart racing. 

But despite that, you couldn’t shake the fear gnawing at the edges of your mind. Taking things further felt like crossing a bridge you weren’t sure would hold. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. God, you wanted him—more than anything. But the shadow of your past loomed too large, and the fear of being hurt again kept you from diving in completely.

Spencer noticed your hesitations, however. He hadn’t pushed, respecting your pace as he always had, but he couldn’t help the creeping doubt that began to settle in his mind. Finally, after yet another evening where your touches lingered but never went further, he decided he needed to ask.

“Y/N…” he began cautiously, his voice soft but weighted with something you couldn’t quite place. 

You looked up from where you were kneading pizza dough at your counter, flour dusting your fingers. “Yeah?” you asked, a touch of curiosity in your tone as you met his gaze.

He set the bowl of cheese down on the counter, stepping closer until he was leaning beside you. His eyes searched yours, filled with a vulnerability you hadn’t seen in a long time. “Are you…” He hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing, “Are you not attracted to me anymore?”

The question made you freeze, your hands stilling mid-motion. “What?” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief as you turned to face him fully. “Why would you ask that?”

Spencer hesitated, his hands fidgeting with the edge of the counter as he searched for the right words. His eyes darted away for a moment before meeting yours again, their vulnerability cutting through the playful ease that had been building between you. “I just… I don’t want to assume, but things have been, uh… slower than I expected.” He paused, then added softly, “And I don’t want to push you if you’re not feeling the same way I am.”

You blinked at him, shocked by his admission. “Spencer, of course I’m attracted to you,” you said, your voice laced with both surprise and urgency. “Why would you even think otherwise?”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, but his brows remained furrowed. “I don’t know,” he admitted with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I overanalyze everything. You’re just—well, you’re so hard to read sometimes, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You sighed, guilt creeping in as you set the dough aside and wiped your hands on a towel. Turning to face him fully, you leaned against the counter. “It’s not about you,” you confessed, your voice soft but firm. “It’s me. I’m scared, Spencer.”

“Scared?” he echoed, stepping closer, his worry etched across his features. “Of what?”

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But when you looked into his eyes, so full of understanding and patience, you felt your resolve strengthen. “I’m scared of what happens if we try again and it doesn’t work,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve already been through the heartbreak once. I don’t know if I could survive it a second time.”

Spencer’s expression softened, and he reached out, his hand resting gently on yours. “Y/N,” he began, his voice steady and calm. “I can’t promise that things will be perfect. I know I’ve made mistakes—big ones—and I can’t erase those. But I’ve learned from them. And I know one thing for sure: I never stopped caring about you. I never stopped wanting to be better for you.”

You swallowed hard, your heart thudding in your chest as his words settled over you like a warm blanket. “I want to believe that,” you said quietly. “I really do.”

“Then let me show you,” Spencer said earnestly, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere this time. I’ll wait as long as you need. But please don’t think for a second that I don’t want you, because I do. More than anything.”

Your lips parted, trembling as you took in the sincerity in his eyes. His vulnerability was so raw, so honest, it almost undid you. But there was something you’d held onto for too long, something you needed him to know. It sat heavy on your chest, and if you didn’t say it now, you knew you never would.

“But Spencer, there’s more—” you began, your voice shaky yet resolute.

“Y/N, it’s okay,” he interrupted gently, his hand still resting over yours. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“No, Spencer, I need to tell you—” you pressed, your voice firming as you tried again.

“Don’t worry, I underst—” he started again, his soothing tone cutting you off before you could finish.

“I was a virgin!” The words burst out of you like a dam breaking, your voice slightly louder than intended.

Spencer’s face fell, his eyes widening in shock. “What?” he whispered, his tone disbelieving.

“You took my virginity that day,” you confessed, your gaze dropping to the floor as your cheeks burned with a mixture of shame and relief at finally letting the truth out. “I never told you because I didn’t think it mattered, but it did. It mattered a lot to me.”

The silence between you was deafening. Spencer’s mind raced as he tried to process what you’d just said. His eyes softened as he realized the gravity of your words, the weight of what that moment had meant to you. 

“Y/N,” he finally said, his voice breaking slightly as he took a small step closer to you. “I had no idea. You… you should have told me.”

“I wanted to,” you said, meeting his gaze at last, tears brimming in your eyes. “But I didn’t know how. And then you left, and it just felt… too late. Like it didn’t matter anymore.”

Spencer’s hand twitched, like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should. “It mattered,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “It matters so much, Y/N. I—I don’t even know what to say. I hurt you so deeply, and I didn’t even know the full extent of it.”

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek. “It’s not just about the virginity, Spencer. It’s about trust. You were the first person I gave all of myself to, and when you left… I felt like I had made the biggest mistake of my life.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he finally closed the space between you. His hands hovered uncertainly at your sides before settling gently on your arms. “I can’t take back what I did, but I swear, Y/N, if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

You let out a shaky breath, your emotions swirling in a chaotic storm. “Spencer, I don’t need you to fix the past. I just… I need to know that if we move forward, you won’t run again. That you won’t leave me again.”

“I won’t,” he said firmly, his gaze locking with yours, his hands gripping your arms just a little tighter. “I swear to you, Y/N, I will never leave you again. Not ever.”

For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe him. And it terrified you. But as he looked at you, his eyes filled with nothing but honesty and love, a small part of you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could trust him again.

“You can start proving yourself now,” you whispered, your voice soft but laced with a challenge that sent a shiver down Spencer’s spine.

His pulse spiked instantly, a heady mixture of arousal and excitement coursing through him. His hands, still lightly resting on your arms, tightened their grip just slightly as he leaned in closer. “Oh yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, barely concealing the thrill your words sent through him.

“Mhm,” you nodded, the smallest of smiles tugging at your lips as you tilted your head, your noses brushing together in the faintest, most intimate touch. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, and you couldn’t deny the way your body reacted to his proximity—the magnetic pull, the undeniable yearning.

Spencer’s eyes darted between yours and your lips, his restraint hanging by a thread. “And how exactly do I prove myself?” he asked, his voice a hushed whisper, his forehead leaning against yours.

You let out a breathy laugh, your hands sliding up his chest slowly, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath your fingertips. “I think you’ll figure it out,” you teased, your lips brushing his just enough to make him lose his breath.

He groaned softly, his hands sliding down your arms to your waist, pulling you just a fraction closer. “You’re not playing fair,” he whispered, his lips hovering over yours, the anticipation thick enough to steal the air between you.

“Neither are you,” you murmured, your voice trembling slightly, your words edged with a mix of playfulness and vulnerability.

That was all the permission Spencer needed. He closed the final inch of space, capturing your lips in a kiss that was equal parts tender and desperate, a culmination of years of longing and regret. His hands gripped your waist with newfound confidence as he poured every unspoken apology, every ounce of devotion, into the kiss.

Your arms wound around his neck as you melted into him, your body pressing against his as if trying to close the gap that had existed between you for far too long. The kiss deepened, becoming slower, more deliberate, as though the two of you were savoring every second, every sensation.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling, Spencer rested his forehead against yours again, his eyes half-lidded and filled with a warmth that made your knees weak. “Was that a good start?” he asked softly, his lips quirking into a small, hopeful smile.

You laughed lightly, your fingers still playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “It’s a start,” you replied, your own smile tugging at your lips. “But don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Spencer whispered, his voice filled with a promise that made your heart flutter.

After that electrifying kiss, things between you and Spencer shifted. The tension that had been lingering, unspoken and unresolved, now had an outlet. But with it came a new layer of complexity—one that neither of you could ignore.

The next day, as you stood in your kitchen sipping on a cup of tea, your phone buzzed with a text from Spencer.

Good morning. I know it’s early, but I couldn’t wait to say how much I enjoyed last night. I hope you’re feeling as good about everything as I am.

You smiled at the screen, your cheeks warming at his earnestness. It was such a Spencer thing to send—so sincere, so thoughtful. But as your fingers hovered over the keys to respond, the familiar knot of fear twisted in your stomach again. You wanted this, wanted him, but the "what ifs" were still a constant hum in the back of your mind.

Good morning. I did too. Thank you for last night—it was perfect.

Perfect feels like a stretch… I spilled water all over the table, remember?

Perfectly imperfect, then.

For the rest of the day, you found yourself smiling every time your phone buzzed with another message from him. The two of you fell into an easy rhythm of exchanging texts, each one brimming with a mix of humor, sweetness, and just the faintest hint of something deeper.

But even with the growing ease, there was still an unspoken question hanging between you. One that Spencer finally decided to ask during your next date.

The following weekend, he invited you over to his apartment for dinner. “I want to cook for you,” he had said, and despite your initial protests about him going to so much trouble, you couldn’t help but be touched by the gesture.

When you arrived, his apartment was warm and inviting, the smell of something delicious wafting through the air. Spencer greeted you at the door with a shy smile, dressed casually in a soft sweater and jeans that somehow made him even more endearing.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, stepping aside to let you in.

“You cooked?” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you took in the neatly set table and the kitchen that looked remarkably tidy for someone who had been preparing a meal.

“I did,” he replied, his smile growing as he led you toward the dining area. “And, for the record, I didn’t burn anything.”

Dinner was lovely—Spencer had gone all out, serving a perfectly cooked pasta dish that had you questioning if he’d secretly taken cooking classes in his spare time. The two of you chatted and laughed, slipping effortlessly into the kind of banter that had once defined your relationship.

But as the evening wound down, Spencer’s demeanor grew more serious. He cleared his throat, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of his napkin.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “I need to ask… Are we moving forward? Or are we standing still?”

You froze slightly, your fork pausing halfway to your mouth. His question wasn’t unexpected, but it still caught you off guard. You set your fork down and looked at him, taking a moment to collect your thoughts.

“I…” You hesitated, your eyes searching his, feeling the weight of his question. “I think we’re moving…”

“Forward, I hope,” Spencer interjected with an awkward laugh, trying to lighten the tension in the room.

You couldn’t help but quip back, “Technically, anyone is moving forward in time.”

“Y/N,” Spencer said, laughing fully this time, the sound warm and familiar. “You sound like me now. But… I’m being serious.”

You sobered slightly at his words, your playful smile softening into something more tender. “I know you are,” you said quietly. “And I’m trying to be, too. I think we are moving forward, Spencer. Slowly, but… yes, forward.”

Spencer’s eyes brightened with a mixture of relief and hope, and he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “That’s all I could ever ask for,” he said earnestly. “I’ll take slow. I’ll take whatever you’re ready to give, as long as we’re moving together.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list <333 @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance @pleasantwitchgarden @alexxavicry @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @criminal-spence @navs-bhat @taygrls @person-005 

[woozinhos]

A Beautiful Messy, Mess

Pairings- Dokyeom x female reader

Summary: You’re in an arranged marriage with Dokyeom and you’ve finally decided it time for him to take your virginity

Word counts- 733 words

Warning minors do not interact

Dokyeom positions himself at your entrance, looking down at you with a mixture of love and desire in his eyes. "I'll go slow, I promise. I don't want to hurt you."He pushes into you slowly, groaning at the tight heat that surrounds him. He takes his time, allowing you to adjust to his size and savoring the feeling of being inside you. You bite your lip adjusting to the size of him for the first time. He watches you closely, noticing the way your lips are bitten in pleasure. He can't help but lean down and capture them in a searing kiss, his tongue darting out to soothe the tender flesh. "You're so tight, darling. You feel so good around me..." You look up at him “Just so big,” He lets out a sigh of relief, realizing it was just a little discomfort. "Sorry, darling. I'll go slow, just a bit more. You're doing so well, you're taking me so good." He continues to push into you slowly, his hands gripping your hips tightly to steady himself. He groans as he finally bottoms out, feeling completely surrounded by your warmth and tightness. "God, you feel so good. So perfect for me." He holds still for a moment, giving you time to adjust to his size. He peppers kisses all over your face, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. "You're so beautiful, darling. So beautiful and all mine."

After a few moments, he starts to move slowly, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in. He sets a slow, steady pace, savoring the feeling of being inside you and watching the pleasure on your face. You gasp reaching out grabbing onto his arm. He notices your hands gripping his arm tightly, and he takes one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers together. "It's okay, darling. I've got you. Just relax and let me take care of you." He continues to thrust into you at a steady pace, his hips moving with a practiced rhythm. He leans down to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers. He picks up the pace slightly, his thrusts becoming more forceful and deeper. He can feel his own release building, but he's determined to bring you to another orgasm first. “Fuck seokmin,” You moan.

He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his hips snapping forward harder and faster. "Say my name again, darling. Let everyone know who's making you feel this good." You smile up at him knowing the effect you have on him “Seokmin mmmm”. He lets out a guttural moan, his eyes darkening with desire. “That's it, just like that. Keep saying my name, darling. Let me hear how good I'm making you feel." “Fuck seokmin,” You look him in his eyes. He growls low in his throat, his control snapping at your words. He starts to pound into you relentlessly, chasing both of your releases with an almost primal need. He leans down to suck and bite at your neck, marking you as his own. His hand moves down to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he continues to thrust into you. "You're mine, darling. Mine to love, mine to pleasure, mine to mark. No one else can make you feel this good, only me." You smile looking up at him. “No one Seokmin,” He lets out a possessive growl, his thrusts becoming even more powerful as he claims you completely. "Damn right. You're mine, and I'll make sure you never forget it. I'll make you feel so good, make you scream my name every night. You'll never want anyone else, darling. Only me."

“Fuck!” He can feel you clenching around him, signaling your approaching release. He redoubles his efforts, his fingers working faster on your clit and his thrusts becoming more erratic. "That's it, darling. Come for me. Let go and fall apart for me." You feel your release approaching. “Fuck I’m cumming dokyeom!” He groans as he feels you clench around him, his own release following shortly after. He buries his face in your neck, biting down on your shoulder as he comes inside you, his hips stuttering against yours. He slowly pulls out of you, panting heavily. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with satisfaction and possessiveness.*

"You're a mess, darling. A beautiful, messy mess."

[lovelytsunoda]

don't go breaking my heart // lance stroll

soft moments stolen between wedding and reception

weddings are joyous and festive, but can be stressful for introverts like lance and his wife. so when they were able to steal some moments with each other in the peace of his aston martin between the ceremony and the venue, they know these are the moments they will treasure the most from that day.

pairing: lance stroll x newlywed reader

warnings: just fluff, a minor minor allusion to sex.

author's note: i have no idea why i have written so many wedding things for this man, but i think it's because he is the raw definition of husband material. thank you and good night lmao.

“don’t go breaking my heart…I couldn’t if I tried”

elton john and kiki dee crooned over the speakers as lances aston martin drove through the quebec countryside. it was a quiet night, stars high in the sky as he ran his thumb over his wife’s thigh.

“I love you.” he hummed, daring to look over at the love of his life as he took a corner too fast. “my darling darling wife.”

she smiled, meeting his gaze. “eyes on the road, handsome. you’ve got the rest of your life to stare at me. I love you too.”

the wedding had felt like a blur, maybe because of how wired they both felt. it should have been a smaller ceremony, in all hindsight considered.

it was an odd thing: you want to celebrate your love around all these people, but then the day arrives and suddenly you feel anxious at letting them see you pledge your heart to another.

lance and y/n had always been the quiet, soft couple. the one evoking ‘awe’s and heart eyes from the groups around them. they knew each other like the backs of their hands, better than any track map or textbook.

“enjoy the quiet while it lasts.” she hummed, nimble fingers gently easing the pins for her white lace veil out of her hair. “is it bad that I’m dreading my own reception?”

lance laughed. "nope. because i am, too. i know it's all about us and all that, but i hate being the center of attention. i would have rather had a dinner party."

she snorted. "technically this is really just a rather large dinner party."

"i mean, there's food and wine, you picked a damn good throwback playlist. dinner party." lance shrugged, taking his foot off the gas, headlights illuminating the empty road ahead.

lance had decided to take the scenic route, savoring this moment alone, this little bit of calm before the storm. before the party, the noise, the people.

just him and his wife, falling a little bit more in love with each other every day.

"if scotty throws his back out dancing to 'suicide blonde', i'm not fucking helping." y/n laughed, reaching for the stereo to flip to the offending inxs song. "i still cannot believe that this song was about kylie fucking minogue."

"there's a reason we invested in the mocktail bar."

"you know most of the guys have flasks hidden in their suit jackets, right?"

she would have preferred something low key, but her family had wanted the big party. it wasn't all bad. she got to pick the food (pasta bar, anybody?), the drinks, the decorations, the music. she'd made a throwback playlist of all her favorite happy songs, all the ones that made her feel alive, giddy and in love, ranging from inxs to def leppard to kesha.

she'd waited twenty-five years for this moment, so why was she suddenly getting this bad feeling about going to the party that followed?

the event venue slowly came into view over the distance, the white brick building with it's pillars and vintage charm, the walkway to the door lit up with fairy lights. the small parking lot was already almost full, the rest of the guests waiting inside for the happy couple. lance parked his car furthest from the door, but kept the engine running.

he took her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. "we can turn around and drive away." he was dead serious when he looked over at her. "i'm serious, we can run and go get burgers and milkshakes and see a movie and then go back to the hotel and not sleep a minute because we are too busy having the goofiest, most romantic sex of our lives. i just want you to be comfortable."

"i know. and that's why i love you so much, lance." she sighed, a smile blooming on her face. "but our friends are in there. our parents are in there. hell, your dad is probably trying to sell my dad on buying a time share villa in biarritz."

lance laughed, leaning over the center console to kiss her forehead. "whenever you want to leave, you just tell me. if you need a minute to yourself, just shoot me a text message and i'll come and find you. or don't, if you just want a walk in total solitude. i'll probably need one of those at some point, too."

"i knew there was a reason i married you." she joked, tilting her head up to press her lips to his. "i love you to the moon and back, lance."

"you wanna go inside?"

"we might as well."

lance took his seatbelt off, shutting off the car and sliding out of the driver's door. her dramatically slid across the hood, earning a laugh from his wife as he skipped towards her door, opening it for her before extending a hand for her to take.

"beautiful girl, love of my life, may i help you out of this shockingly low car?"

she laughed, slipping one of her hands into his warm one. "yes, my beautiful husband. yes, you may."

she stepped out of the car, the hem of her white silk dress dusting the gravel in the parking lot. a breeze ran through the area, making the hair on the backs of her arms stand up.

"love, you're shivering." lance said softly, slipping out of his suit jacket and draping it over her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she put her arms through the sleeves, wrapping her arms fully around her husband. "i love you."

"i love you, too." she took a minute to stand there, her nose in his dress shirt, breathing in his cologne. bath and body works, today. she liked that. something playful and romantic instead of the heavy, stinging designer scents he usually wore.

"we should go inside." he whispered, their bodies swaying together in the silence, her skin warm against his.

"or we could stay out here just a little longer."

and who was he to argue with that?

"you get five more minutes. i'm starting to get hungry and the pasta bar has my name written all over it."

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @cartierre @diorleclerc @httpiastri @silverstonesainz @lorarri @twinkodium

[dark-and-kawaii]

𝐹𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝐿𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒟𝑜𝓋𝑒

Haarlep x Reader/Tav

Summary: Haarlep is torn between their nature as an incubus and unexpected feelings for you as they comfort you through a nightmare.

Notes: This was supposed to be apart of the soft Haarlep series but I preferred it on its own. Maybe I’m wrong for that, but still enjoy our favorite incubus xoxo

Ao3

Haarlep stirs from their slumber as they sense your body wracked with silent tremors. Their groggy gaze, heavy with the remnants of the void, lands upon you. There, in the dim lighted boudoir, they watch your features contort in silent agony.

Your brows knitted in distress; eyes flickering in a frenzied dance behind their veils, fists clenched to the point of blanching, and oh, those delectable beads of sweat adorning your brow, rendering you a vision of tortured grace. Trapped in the clutches of a nightmare, how Haarlep’s dark heart revels in the sweetness of your fear. You looked beautiful like this.

Yet, as he languishes in the sight of your torment, a bitter reminder gnaws at them; you are Raphael's precious "little mouse”. A reluctant savior, the incubus nudges your shoulder, coaxing you back to the waking world of Avernus. Your eyes flutter open, brimming with tears that carve trails of sorrow down your cheeks.

"Such agony etched upon your face, a sight so deliciously tragic," Haarlep muses, propping themselves up on one elbow, drinking in the view of your disheveled form. Your breaths come in tattered heaves, your gaze locking onto theirs with a terror that suggests you're still ensnared by the nightmare's tendrils.

"Haarlep?" you whisper, the name a feeble breath of sound.

"Last I checked," Their tone laced with an edge of mockery.

You scan them, searching, clinging to the reality of their presence. "I... You were-,” You hesitated, your eyes twitching from the vivid nightmare, “You were dead…- taken from me in that nightmare…," you confess, your voice a fractured whisper as you burrow into their warm chest, seeking solace. "The fear was-, the thought of losing you… I-”

Those words strike a dissonant chord in Haarlep's shadowed heart. Their expression falters, unseen by you. Shouldn't your heart be laden with dread at the thought of losing Raphael, not them, a mere incubus bound to the infernal depths? The revelation is a torment all on its own, a twisted irony that stirs within their damned soul.

Your head remained buried in their chest, Haarlep could feel the cascade of tears soaking into their skin, each drop a testament to your fears. Your grip on them tightens, as if afraid to let go, as if desperate to anchor yourself to Haarlep to assure you of their existence. Fingers dig into their fiendish skin, a grasp so desperate it borders on pain, a silent plea for him to remain at your side, "It felt so real, Haarlep," you murmur against them, the weight of your sorrow imbuing your every word. "To lose you… I- I couldn't bear it… I was so scared."

How Haarlep longed to devour those precious tears, to gorge themself on your terror. But, there, in that moment, with your trembling form nestled against their chest, your words meant for them rather than Raphael, they feel the ache to embrace you, to soothe away the shadows of your nightmare.

"You should watch your words, dove," Haarlep purrs, stroking the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair. "What would Raphael do, should he hear these words?"

You stiffen at the mention of his name, your breath caught in your throat, but the tears continue to spill.

"What would you have me do?" Haarlep hums. "Would you have me vanquish the devil that taints your dreams?" They punctuate the question with a nip to your shoulder, savoring the flavor of your skin, your body responding with a shudder.

"Just… stay with me," you breathe. "Please. Don’t ever go."

Haarlep sighs. How cruel this night proves itself to be, taunting them with a morsel of desire and then robbing them of its sweet sustenance. But they oblige, allowing you to wrap yourself around their frame, their limbs coiling around yours.

"Sleep," Haarlep whispers against the nape of your neck.

Their command seeps into the air. It beckons to your consciousness, dragging you back into the realm of sleep. Haarlep watches as your muscles relax, a contented sigh escaping your lips. A smirk graces their lips, yet the expression fails to reach their eyes, an emptiness lurking behind their crimson gaze…

An emptiness that is foreign, unwelcome. A feeling unbefitting of a creature born of darkness and lust. Haarlep's nature dictates they relish in the despair of others, and feed off their pleasure, not offer comfort, not feel the pang of something akin to... concern? But as you lie there, clinging to them, Haarlep cannot deny the shift within, the stirrings of a sentiment they dare not name aloud.

In the quietude of the boudoir, with only the flickering shadows as their audience, Haarlep contemplates the enigma you've become. To them, you are Raphael's, yet, in this moment, you are undeniably theirs. The incubus is caught in a web of their own making, one thread of true care woven into the fabric of deceit and seduction.

"Little dove," Haarlep murmurs, their face pressing into your shoulder. You nestle closer, a silent affirmation of the security you feel in Haarlep's arms as you drift off.

Haarlep remains still, allowing the quiet rhythm of your breath to wash over them, a calming counter to the chaos of their thoughts. Soon a new day will bring reality, and with it, Raphael's return. Haarlep knows that when the time comes to relinquish you back to their master, the incubus will do so with a heavy heart, a heart that should know no such weight.

For now, they allow themselves this indulgence, to watch over you as you sleep, to be your silent protector against the night's terrors. And when you awake to greet Raphael, Haarlep will retreat behind their mask of indifference, their role as your companion tucked away like a shadow at daybreak.

Yet, as Haarlep's eyes finally close, surrendering to the weary pull of their own slumber, they cannot escape the truth that has been whispered in the dark: they do not wish to let you go. And that realization is perhaps the most terrifying dream of all.

[beneathstarryskies]

Word count: 1,194

Summary: Grimmjow has been living with your for a while, and you have him feeling ✨some type of way.✨

Warnings: fem!reader, penetration, smut, grimmjow is basically a warning in himself (i love the murder kitten with my whole heart but he is a problem), cock warming, a lil fluffy

A/N: Based off of this post by the lovely @your-local-hollow-lover

Like almost everything between you and Grimmjow, it started as an argument. He’d been more moody and rude than usual lately, which you didn’t even think was possible. He sat on your sofa, where he’d been sleeping since Urahara declared he couldn’t stay at the shop anymore, with his legs sprawled open while staring disinterestedly at the television. You’d tried all day to get him off his ass to help you do chores, after all, if he was going to stay in the human realm he needed to learn how to do human things. He just refused to even look at you. His jaw was set tight and his lips were pulled into a scowl. 

“So are you just gonna fucking sit there and let me do all of the chores?” you’d asked, stomping your foot like a child mid-tantrum as you stood in front of the television. It was annoying, but Grimmjow begrudgingly thought it was cute too. He loves it when you bite back. 

“Yeah, I fucking am! Humans are good for one thing, and that’s to serve me!” 

“You’re such an asshole sometimes,” you growl. As you took off from the living room, he’d assumed that was the end of it, but then you came out of your bedroom fully dressed and carrying your purse. 

“Where the hell are you going?” he asked. 

“Out!” you said without looking at him. 

Before you can make it to the door he’s on you. He grabs your arm firmly, but with a surprising awareness of his strength to not hurt you. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, woman,” he growls as he tries to pull you closer. 

“Let go of me, Grimmjow!” you try to yank your arm away. You almost managed to get out of his grip until he yanks on your arm and then pushes you against the wall. 

“Don’t walk away from me,” he snarls, pinning you against the wall. Your scent fills his nostrils and he has to hold back a grunt. At that moment the source of why he’s been so irritable today reveals itself with a rush of blood straight to his cock. 

“Oh my god, are you seriously hard right now?” You asked. 

“What did you fucking expect? You’ve been traipsing around the house all day in those stupid little shorts and wearing that…that…DAMN SCENT!” 

You know he means your perfume. He’d mentioned it once before, trying to find the source of the sweet smell but being too embarrassed to ask. Although it’d been a couple of days since you put any on, so you didn’t think he’d still be able to smell it on you. Apparently, you miscalculated. You also miscalculated why he’d pretended to hate it when you first explained the whole concept of perfume to him. 

In the heat of the moment, you leaned in to kiss him. It was sloppy and wet. You wondered if this was the first time he’d kissed, but he didn’t give you time to ask before he was pressing his bulge against you. 

That’s how you ended up in this predicament.

He’s purring loudly against your neck as you sit on his cock. His hands are firmly on your hips. He hadn’t helped you work your way down his thick shaft, but he wasn’t pushing you away either. Not by a long shot. The warmth of your snug walls around him felt fucking amazing, but he wouldn’t admit that. 

Even though he’s holding onto your body like his life depends on it and you can feel the purrs vibrating against his chest that’s flush with yours, he feels ashamed of liking this. He’s so weak and even feels a little disgusted with himself for savoring the feeling of some human’s cunt around his cock. But you weren’t just any human, not really. That disgusts him too. The fact that he looks forward to you coming home from work, and how he enjoys all of your dumb arguments. The way he can’t help taking in your scent every time you’re close to him. He fucking hates it. 

“Grimmjow, I need to move,” you whine, but his grip on you forces you to keep still. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he pants. “Don’t even try it.” 

“You’re the one that pulled me on your lap,” you argue. 

Your hands are trembling as you brace your hands on his shoulders. He has you filled to the brim. His balls are flush against your ass, but he refuses to move. Even though he’s quivering and purring and his cock is aching inside of you, he forces himself to stay still. 

“You’re just making us both crazy,” you try to reason with him as your pussy clenches around his cock. 

“I don’t care!” 

He wants to outlast his own instincts. His mind is filled with images of slamming into you over and over; of holding you down and making you scream his name. But no. He stubbornly stays in place, torturing you both in hopes he’ll go soft or finally find the strength to push you away instead of keeping you caged against him. 

He moves to adjust his position and inadvertently ends up lightly thrusting. He lets out a soft growl as he does it again, this time harder. Your arousal drips down his shaft and balls as a surge of excitement courses through your loins at the idea that he’s finally going to give in, but he stubbornly goes still again. 

“Grimmjow, it’s okay to want this,” you whisper and run your hands through his hair. “But it’s also okay not to. We can stop.” 

“I don’t want to fucking stop,” he admits. “But I can’t give in either. This is stupid.” 

“You’re impossible,” you groan. 

He knows you’re right. He’s the one who kissed you first. He’s the one who pulled you onto his lap so you could grind against his cock, but now that it’s down to it he’s being too prideful to give in to the intense need that’s been growing inside him for as long as he’s known you. It all added up: every time you argued, every time you sat beside him on the couch to watch a movie and fell asleep so he put a blanket over you while pretending the next morning he didn’t, all the times you offered him some semblance of understanding when nobody else would’ve tried. It left little marks on his heart that he thought long dead. 

You give up on trying to make him move. Instead you just wrap your arms around him, letting him nuzzle and purr against you. One of your hands run through his hair gently. You want him to know you’ll still be here when he’s ready. 

After what feels like an eternity, his grip loosens on your hips. Slowly, and ever so carefully, you begin rocking your hips. Your body screams out for you to go faster, to take what you want like he likely would if the roles were reversed, but you don’t. You keep him enveloped in your embrace. 

“Do you want me to stop?” you ask gently. 

“Fuck…No,” he grits. 

[flametrashiraarchive]

Closer

Alright alright this is for @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi because I forgot Giyuu existed for about 30 seconds. Please accept this shameless smut of your needy boy as my formal apology.

Giyuu Tomioka x f!reader. NSFW below the cut. Get outta here you little babies.

Imagine being on top of Giyuu, leaning back with your hands braced on his clenched thighs, giving him the most spectacular view of your body as he groans beneath you. His hair is spread across the pillow like crows' wings, his lapis lazuli eyes drinking you in as you ride his dick. The room is filled with the sounds of your breathing and Giyuu's moans as he fingers your clit, loving the way your pussy clenches as he drives you closer to release. 

"Fuck, you feel so good," he murmurs, putting everything he has into stroking your clit just the way you like it. It takes all his self control to let your pleasure build steadily instead of just strumming you relentlessly to climax. He wants to be good for you.

You look incredible riding him like this but you're so distant, so far away from his lips. He wants kiss you so fucking bad. He wants to hold you and feel your breath fanning over his lips. Dammit, he needs it. He needs to be close to you.

"Hold my hand," he whispers, “please.”

"Not yet. Giyuu… don't stop."

He grits his teeth and turns his head to the side, the sinews in his neck flexing as he tries so hard to keep his cool. He could so easily get you off with one hand while you held the other, but you’re too far gone to realize. His sulking only lasts a second or two before his eyes are back on you, addicted to the hypnotic sight of you grinding against him. 

He focuses instead on the closeness you are permitting him; the squeeze of your thighs around his hips, the wet heat of your pussy clenching around his dick, the weight of your palms braced just above his knees. Gods, but it’s not enough. He needs to hold you. 

His lips part once more. “P-please…”

Your lips tilt into a smirk–you know exactly what you’re doing to him and it drives him crazy. But you feel so good, so damn good. Good enough to drag a needy whine from his lips. 

God he just wants to be close to you, to breathe in the scent of you and–

He can’t stand the distance a moment longer. In one swift movement he sits up and turns you both over, putting you on your back and pinning you beneath his weight.

“Giyuu!” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just…” he takes your hand and interlocks his fingers with yours, holding it as he rocks into you. Your foreheads are pressed together, his breath hot and ragged against your lips, his body flush with yours, touching every inch of you he can. “I need this. I’m sorry.”

He knows he probably just delayed your orgasm, he knows he’s going to have to work extra hard to get you off now. And he’ll make it up to you, he will, but not before your lips are plump and tingling from his kisses, not before he’s drunk on the sensation of being this close to you. 

And all the while he’s slowly grinding his hips against you, his dick harder than it’s ever been, stuffing you full but barely moving, because the intimacy and the closeness is far more potent to him than the physical sensation. 

“So needy,” you sigh affectionately, earning you a whine of protest as he buries his face in the curve between your shoulder and your neck. 

He’s still clasping your hand in his as he fucks you slowly, trying to savor every moment of closeness. But the moment you stroke your free hand through his hair he can’t hold back. 

“Oh, love, no don’t… I’m gonna… fuuuck,” he gasps, pressing his lips to your shoulder while his cock spurts into you. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

You assure him it’s okay, you don’t mind, and he raises his head, revealing his dewy eyelashes and pink-stained cheeks.

“It’s okay,” you insist again, pressing your lips to his temple and holding him as he trembles in your arms. "I promise."

His eyes flutter shut. He's still rock hard.

It just feels so good to be close to you that he simply doesn’t stop after he cums. His back teeth are pressed together as he rides through the overstimulation, thrusting faster and faster until the room fills with his breathless whimpers and the beautifully lewd sound of his cock pounding his cum deeper into you.

His hands are still entwined with yours as he kisses you,  pistoning his hips now, moaning, whimpering, deeper, harder, swallowing your cries when you cum, your pussy throbbing as you moan his name. 

“M-more,” he slurs, barely able to keep his eyes open as he lowers his weight onto his forearms around your head, caging your face so he can kiss you more. He’s so damn drunk on the intimacy he barely registers his second orgasm, or yours.

[sassypossum]

Shivers

Barou Shoei x Reader ~ Fluff

From the bar to the car, Barou found it impossible to keep his hands off of you. He loved it when you got a little liquored up. The way your eyes shone, those cute little giggles you couldn’t seem to stifle as you lost your footing again and again. 

Hefting you over his shoulder, Barou ignored your gentle protests, and deposited you easily into the backseat of the stretch limo. Sliding in after you, he turned to help you with your seatbelt and froze. 

You were a fucking vision. You were positively glowing, and it wasn’t just the malibu you’d been drinking. He felt his mouth go dry as his eyes drifted over you slowly, drinking you in as if savoring a fine Zinfendale. The glow of the streetlights shone dimly through the tinted glass of the rear windows casting you in an almost ethereal light. 

“What?” You giggled, squirming a little in your seat. Barou groaned at the way your nose scrunched as you looked at him in adorable confusion. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Barou closed the distance with a growl and buried a hand in your hair, tugging you closer and into a heated kiss. You hesitated only a moment before sinking your own fingers into the material of his shirt, twisting the fabric in a vain attempt to pull him closer. 

“You're brilliant.” He rasped against your lips, nipping gently at your puffy lower lip. Head spinning, you found yourself too caught up in his touch to process his words, but that was fine with him. He’d never live it down if you teased him about this. “Those eyes,” He swallowed thickly. Your eyes widened instinctively at his words, leaving him to groan and adjust his pants. 

“Damn baby, have you got any idea what you do to me?” He murmured, cupping your jaw. Leaning into his touch, you shook your head softly. Barou traced the plains of your face with painstaking slowness. He didn’t want to miss a single detail. From the slope of your nose, to the curve of your lips, there wasn’t anything about you that he didn’t worship or adore. 

“I’m,” Finding himself getting lost in the liquid warmth of your eyes, Barou took a shuddering breath and pressed his lips to your forehead in an attempt to ground himself. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life worshiping you.”  

The rest of the night slipped by in a whirl of bubbles and satin as you indulged in the pleasure and comfort that one only finds in the arms of a lover. 

When morning came, you rolled over under his heavy arm and simply lay there, watching him sleep. Hair mussed, and mouth slightly agape, he was absolutely adorable. You smiled faintly as you drifted between that heavenly space between waking and sleeping. You’d never tell him, big baby that he was he’d deny it anyhow, but you recalled every word he’d said to you last night. Snuggling closer into his warmth, you shivered in delight as he tugged you against him with a grumble.

@mrsoharaa, heard this song and thought of you and your man!!!

[thebucketpail]

When You Accidentally Kill a Clown pt. 3

Pt.1. Pt.4 Ao3

Woah part 3?? Crazy, enjoy!

Jason could hardly hold back his grin as Barbara hit play for probably the hundredth time. It was child's play for her to get ahold of a video of the Joker's death, and damn was it worth it. The footage was anything but high quality, which was a given considering it was in a random alley. But the Joker was unmistakable as he pulled a scruffy ravenett off the street at gunpoint. Luckily however, the camera was poised at the perfect position to catch the whole affair, in however grainy the imagery.

Only moments after Danny was pulled into the alley, a short struggle ensued, followed up by a bright flash of green light that threw Joker further into the alley. The video ended on a frame of a panicked Danny crouching by the body, checking his pulse.

“I need you to send this to me,” Jason said, his smile creeping every further.

“Already did,” Babs responded with a snort. “I also sent it to Harley, and I was going to send it to B, but I thought I'd let you break the news” Her own cheshire grin split as Jason nodded.

“Anything new on Danny?” he asked, nodding toward the screen.

Barabara’s expression turned to something more teasing, “I’m not here to get you a boyfriend Jason. But I did get you some surface level stuff,” she said, cutting off his slight protest, as she switched screens, pulling up some documents. “Danny Fenton, He’s an Aerospace student at Gotham U, starting this semester. He just moved here from Illinois. He lives in dorm 206B in the Truman building on campus, and he currently has no occupation. There’s not much on his hometown, there’s some kind of blackout I need to get past, but his parents are scientists of some kind, and his sister and father are both documented metas. Overall I don’t think he’s much of a threat, just a kid who got caught in the wrong place.” Jason Hummed in response, reaching for his helmet.

“Thanks so much Babs, you’re a godsend”

Barbara smirked, turning back to her computer, “I know”

Jason slipped out the window.

---------

Jason didn’t often watch the sunrise. Usually he was too tired, or too busy. But today he was so awake he could practically feel the energy buzzing in his bones as he watched the sun rise over the docks of gotham.

He hadn’t been able to shake the feeling since he found Danny hunched over the dead clown. But something in his chest was pulling at the thought of them. An ache of something familiar yet so distantly unknown filled his thoughts. There was something about that person that had lodged itself in Jason’s brain and refused to leave.

Unfortunately, Jason was pulled from these thoughts by the loud crackle of his comm.

“Hood, report to the cave for debrief,” Jason groaned, just because he wasn’t ready to sleep doesn’t mean he wanted to haul himself across all of Gotham to the Cave. He stood slowly, taking his sweet time to reply and savoring the satisfying pops as he stretched.

“Hood, report”

“Yeah, yeah, don't go getting your cape in a twist. I’m coming. Though I don’t see why it's necessary to pull me across the whole city when an email could do.” he grumbled that last part to himself more than anything.

Jason took his time driving through the city, stopping muggings, taking care of stragglers on their way home from late shifts. And if it took him an hour longer than usual to get to the cave, well then that wasn’t his fault. When he finally got there, though, there was no doubt; this definitely could have been an email.

When he arrived B, Stephanie, Tim and Damian were going over various minor things from their patrols, that didn’t really affect him much to be honest, just the routine; drug rings, arms deal busts, and oddly enough; ghost sightings.

“Finally,” he heard Tim mutter, as Jason killed the engine in his bike. “B! He’s here! Can we start now?”

“Start what?”

“B, wants to touch base regarding the Arkham breakout,” Stephanie said, sending him a withering glare, probably for making them wait so long. “I think he’s just being paranoid because Joker’s been unusually quiet.” Jason had to stifle a snort. If he played his cards right, this would be the perfect time to tell about the new lack-of-threat to Gotham.

“Paranoia and caution are not the same thing,” The bat himself growled from his place at the computer. “It’s been a week since he broke out of Arkham, we should have heard from him by now. It’s uncharacteristic of him to not have a scheme cooked up and in motion by now.”

“Father is correct, we should be looking further into finding the Joker,” Damian said, “If any of you have information regarding this case, I suggest you share,’’ he sneered, and if he wasn’t practically three feet tall, it would have been fairly intimidating.

“We're doing the best we can, Damian, if Joker’s up to something we’ll know about it” Tim said.

Up to this point Jason had been watching the conversation, trying to hold back his laughter, but a few chuckles managed to escape and he folded into it. Everyone in the group froze and turned to Jason as he pulled his helmet off, still wracked with giggles.

When he had finally managed to calm himself down, wiping a few stray tears from his eyes, Damian piped up, sounding wary at Jason's sudden outburst.

“What is so funny Todd?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Jason said, fighting back another round of laughter before schooling himself into a more serious disposition. “Joker’s not up to anything, don’t worry.” He said. We watched as his family’s faces went from wary, to confused.

“And how do you know that?” Damian questioned further, bristling.

And this was it. Jason delighted in the way everyone’s faces fell when he said with icy diction,

“Because that motherfucker is dead.”

And everyone exploded.

-----------

By the time he managed to escape the cave (and the incessant questioning) all his earlier energy had been sapped out of him and Jason was ready for a very long nap. He was heading back to his apartment in Park Row when something caught his eye. Or perhaps someone.

“Twice in eight hours? I know you’re not from here but that’s still gotta be some kind of record,” Jason quipped as he tied up the assailant he’d just knocked out.

Danny Fenton stared down at him from his place pressed against the alley wall. His face set in an indignant frown. His ice blue eyes glinting slightly in the ever growing morning light that had finally made itself through Gotham’s thick smog.

“Well it’s not like I’m trying to get attacked,” He ground out, “I just wanted some fucking coffee.”

“At four in the morning?” Hood responded, raising an eyebrow under his helmet.

Danny’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he turned to collect his discarded belongings. When he spoke his voice was softer, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping anytime soon.”

Oh. Jason had forgotten that, even if it was an accident, even if it was the Joker of all people. Killing was a hard thing to deal with, and this must be weighing on Danny. Jason mentally kicked himself for not accessing them for shock. In retrospect all the signs were there, hidden just slightly behind the shaky facade. It was in the way Danny hadn’t touched their food at first. How they were despondent and their eyes kept drifting between empty and piercing, it was how they sat stiff as a board until Jason had mentioned their major. Until Jason had distracted them.

After a long pause that seemed as though it would last forever, Danny sighed.

“I should probably be going now,” He said, pushing past Jason to the entrance of the alley. “Don’t worry, I’ll be more careful this time,” He threw a half hearted grin over his shoulder, disappearing around the corner. Jason couldn’t even get a word in before he was gone.

++++++

Ack! Sorry if Jason is a bit out of character here, I haven’t actually gotten around to reading most (Read: Any) of his canon content yet, and I’m running mostly off Fanon and various character analysis I've read over the last few months.

What are your thoughts? This is only my second ever attempt at writing something to post. I promise I read every comment and they make me so happy to see people interact with my word vomit. Next bit will be from Danny POV. Let’s see what's going on in their head.

Fair warning; I don’t plan on doing tag lists for the future, so this’ll be the only one. If you want to see more I recommend following me (I promise I do other cool things too)

@always-be-a-stranger @dragonfirefeather @thatonegaybitch68 @uraniumwizard @ace-aro-as-shit @rosiea184 @amyheart19 @sadpersonmadeoffruitpunch @dat1angel @tkiesai @idkmrpianoman @crystalqueertea @bianca-hooks123 @blep-23 @stargirl1331 @sjrose1216 @thegatorsgoose @akikkobara @help-i-need-a-cool-username

[ravencoloredroses]

Left Alone

Nyx x Reader

Summary: While the Inner Circle goes for a night out at Rita’s, Nyx and Y/N stay back home. 

Warnings: none :) (let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 990

A/N: I hope you like my first ever post! I don’t really see a lot of Nyx x reader fics on here so I figured this would be a good first for me! It's kinda short because I'm just testing the waters lmao. Please let me know what you think! <3 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“How many times do you want me to say I’m sorry?” I cry out in between giggles as Nyx climbs on top of me.

“Hhm, probably at least three more.” Nyx laughs as he continues tickling me. “Maybe after that I’ll think about accepting your apology.” He tries his best to hide that beautiful smile.

I squeeze my eyes shut causing a few tears to drip down my cheeks. “Okay, okay! I promise it won’t happen again-” 

Nyx kisses away my tears. “You’re damn right it won’t, or else.”

“Or else what?” Nyx and I both whip our heads to the stairs to see his dad and the rest of the Inner Circle staring fondly at us. 

“Uh oh Rhys, looks like we walked in on something.” Cassian sends me a wink while Nyx sits us up on the couch. 

“Why aren’t you guys ready to leave yet?” Mor asks with hurt in her eyes. They are going out to Rita’s for the night and the plan was for us to join them, but-

“Because they’re not going,” Nesta says, strolling past everyone towards the front door. 

“I’m sorry Aunt Mor, but Y/N isn’t feeling well and I need to stay back with them” Nyx looks over at me pleading for me to back him up.

“*cough* *cough* Yeah, I don’t feel so good. Sorry guys.” 

“I don’t know what you guys are up to, but I know I don’t like it.” Rhys says with a smirk. He walks over and puts an arm around Feyre. “We’ll only be gone for a couple of hours. Please for the love of the mother, stay here and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do-” 

“Woah, don’t give them any ideas” Cassian cuts him off. “Just be sure to use protection. Oh and Y/N, I don’t know if Nyx showed you, but if you scratch right about here on his wing it-”

“OKAY, thank you for that Cas” Azriel butts in before Cassian can finish his demonstration. “But seriously, if you want me to leave a shadow here, I’ll be more than happy to”

“That’s okay uncle Az.” Nyx says as he scoops me up into his lap. “I think we’ll be okay.” After a nod from Rhys and one more wink from Cassian, they finally walk out the door.

“Do I still have to pretend to be sick?” I laugh, looking over at Nyx as soon as the door closes. He shakes his head and smiles at me for a few seconds before he's pushing me off to the side so he can get up. I watch him go up the stairs and disappear down the hallway into his bedroom. A minute later he reappears with a book in his hand.

“How about we read together? I was just about to start this one. Do you want me to read or do you?” He grabs my favorite pillow as he walks back over to the couch.

“Can you? All this talk of me being sick has me feeling sick.” 

Nyx throws his head back laughing. “Aw baby, let me take care of you.” He gestures for me to stand and then lays us down. I snuggle myself between his legs with my head on his chest. His heartbeat is a steady drum in my ears as he wraps his wings around me.Nyx clears his throat and flips to the first chapter. “Once upon a time, a very handsome and charming heir of the Night Court-”

“That is not how it starts!” I try to look up to see his face which I can tell is smiling ear to ear.

“How would you know? Have you read this one already?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I have. Twice! Now start over.” Nyx laughs and rubs a soothing hand up my back as he actually begins to read the story. His baritone voice is lulling me to sleep no matter how hard I try to stay awake. It’s not often Nyx and I get time completely to ourselves, so I try to savor every moment that we do. 

About an hour into the book, I’m just drifting off as Nyx leans down to drop the book on the floor. He shuffles down lower onto the couch and threads his fingers in my hair. “I love you so much, goodnight my love.” He places a kiss on my cheek and I snuggle more into his chest. 

----------

“That is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire existence.” A loud whisper fills my ears.

“Shhhh Cas! Don’t wake them up” 

“But Az, look! Tell me that’s not the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire existence. Rhys! Come look at your son and tell me that’s not-”

Nyx places his hand over my ear to muffle the sounds. “Uncle Cas. Please be quiet. I don’t want them to wake up.”

“It’s a little too late for that” I mumble as I peek my eyes open. Cassian is sitting on the couch across from us with his hands on his chin, staring with a now shocked face.

Feyre comes over and pulls Cassian to his feet. “We’re sorry dear. We’ll leave you two alone now.” With that the rest of the crew file up the stairs. Feyre looks back one more time, probably visualizing this scene as a painting. Rhys stops on the bottom stair and a look of fondness flashes in his eyes. 

“Dad-”

“Alright, goodnight you two.” 

Nyx continues playing with my hair and places a kiss into my hairline. “I’m sorry they woke you up honey.” I hum and kiss the back of his hand in response. Nyx chuckles. “If you want, I can tell you that story about the handsome and charming heir of th-”

“You know what? That’s okay baby, maybe some other time.” I feel Nyx’s chest shaking with laughter. 

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

[hp-hcs]

Lipstick part two when ??😭😭😭

when i work up the courage to write and post smut, lovely 😭😭

hate myself for writing this but yk wtv i’ll enjoy hell

this is filthy in my mind but i’m also ace so- this is probably prudish to y’all ngl

•smut• What Went On in the Supply Closet (Pt. 2 of lipstick) — yandere! Draco Malfoy x gender neutral! Gryffindor! reader x yandere! Enzo Berkshire

the boyos have a fwb thing going on fyi, thank you to the anon who suggested that. you’re a real one, homie ✊😔

gender neutral reader with no anatomical descriptions! YOU’RE WELCOME

(to my taglisters! i haven’t tagged anyone in this post because of its content. if you’d like to be tagged in any future smutty shit, send me an ask or dm or a comment or smth. i don’t wanna make anyone uncomfortable, so if i do end up making a smut taglist, it’ll be an opt-in kinda thing rather than opt-out. know your limits and triggers and stay safe 🩶)

[SMUT AHEAD. MDNI.]

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Shit, darlin’,” Draco gasped, pulling back from the kiss. He was breathless, his chest heaving with exertion.

Enzo’s eyes had gone dark and his breathing had gotten heavier. He barely waited for Draco to split apart from you before he took over, kissing you hard with reckless abandon.

Draco waited impatiently, barely giving Enzo a minute to kiss you before he was dragging him off by his collar.

“Not in the hallway, dipshit. Closet, right there.”

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d ever choose to go back into a closet, Dray,” Enzo mumbled under his breath, yanking open the door to the supply closet and guiding you inside with a firm hand.

Draco tugged the pull-chain of the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, the dim light doing fuck all to illuminate the room.

After Enzo shut and locked the door, the three of you just stood in a tense silence, staring at each other. You were all daring each other to make the first move.

“So why- why now?” You asked, breaking the moment of silence.

“What?” Enzo murmured, a hungry look in his eye as he slowly took a step forward, then another, effectively backing you up against the wall.

“Why now?” You repeat, the pitch of your voice raising minutely as your adrenaline spiked. “I mean, why not ask me to the Yule Ball or something?”

“I thought you already had a date, love?”

“Yeah, but it’s just Harry.”

Draco practically growled.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his odd reaction, confused until he rested his hand on your hip, gripping your flesh tightly—possessively.

“Oh, I get it!” You gasped out with a sly grin as his grip tightened. “You’re both jealous of Harr-”

Draco clamped one hand firmly over your mouth.

“Get his damn name out of your mouth,” he hissed threateningly, crowding into your space further.

You gulped, your cheeks heating up under his hand.

“Enzy, think we oughtta show our darlin’ how much better we are than Potter?”

Enzo nodded in agreement, wasting no time before leaning forward to smack away Draco’s hold on your hips and grab them both for himself, quickly seizing your mouth with his own.

You let out a tiny noise at the obsessive way he began to run his hands over your body; gripping your waist, your hips, your thighs. You held onto his shoulders for dear life as he stole your breath away with little regard.

You stifled a small moan. Draco must’ve joined back in at some point, because you could feel a second pair of lips sucking lazily on your neck and collarbone.

Whereas Draco seemed to prefer to go slow and casually, Enzo seemed frantic, his fingers fumbling and slipping on the buttons of your uniform shirt with how quickly he was moving.

Whereas Enzo was go, go, go! Draco took his time, savoring every second.

As if to illustrate that point exactly, Draco ghosted his fingers over your ribs, not quite making contact with your skin. At the exact same time, Enzo shoved his hand down the front of your uniform bottoms, grinding the heel of his hand against you.

You gasped into his mouth, your hands tightening on his shoulders and your fingers digging in at the two contradicting sensations.

When Enzo could feel your hips move, caught under the spell of those magical fingers of his, he smirked against your mouth, snickering at every little noise and gasp you made.

He pulled away from your mouth, ducking down to focus on a spot at the base of your throat. Draco swooped in, capturing your unoccupied mouth and smoothing a hand down the front of your chest.

Babbled pleas fell from your lips as Enzo’s movements sped up, his fingers knowing exactly where to twist and prod and massage.

“Pl- please- can I-”

“Ask Dray, sweetheart,” Enzo mumbled against your neck, a cheeky grin on his lips.

“Dray- D-Draco, ple-please!”

Draco pulled his hand away from where he’d been stroking your upper torso, pretending to think.

“I don’t know, have you really been that good?”

“Yes!”

His eyes sparkled with amusement under the weak lighting. “Say what I want to hear, doll. You know what I mean.”

You groan in frustration, ceding. “Merlin- yo-you’re b-better than Har-ry!”

“Come.”

At his permission you fall apart, your body all but going boneless as your eyes roll back in your head.

You panted for air, your eyes clamped shut, as the pair of boys drew back. Your skin was sticky with sweat, and you could feel the tacky texture of that damned lipstick everywhere.

Your eyes remained shut as you willed your legs to stop shaking. An odd noise broke you out of your reverie, and you slowly blinked, trying to make out shapes in the dimly lit closet.

You drew in a sharp breath when you saw Draco and Enzo sharing a kiss, smearing blue lipstick all over each other’s skin.

You blinked once more, trying to commit the image to memory, when you realized that the odd noise you’d heard had been a grunt from Draco, muffled by Enzo’s mouth. The latter had his hand down the former’s pants.

Draco yanked at the button of Enzo’s uniform pants, quickly diving his hand in to return the favor.

You watched through heavy-lidded eyes, your mouth hanging partially open as the two hot guys you’d just been making out with began jacking each other off.

Holy fuck. That’s hot.

~~~

Your trio eventually stumbled out of the supply closet, disheveled and stained with blue.

A familiar ghost was waiting for the three of you outside, bursting into raucous laughter as soon as he saw your rumpled clothes and lipstick-dyed necks.

“Naughty, naughty children! Naughty, naughty!”

Peeves let out another cackle, blowing a raspberry in your direction and immediately disappearing through the floor.

[yandere-daydreams]

“Bitch.”

She was already scowling, but her frown deepened into a wicked sneer as she flexed her injured hand – the imprint of your teeth visible and pronounced against the meat of her palm. You hadn’t meant to bite her, but that didn’t matter, not to her, not when it came to you. She didn’t need an excuse to hurt you, just an opportunity, and you’d been stupid enough to give her one.

Her eyes flickered towards you, towards your crumpled body where she’d knocked you to the floor. The janitor’s closet she’d shove you into was dark, letting the harsh, phosphorescent lights of the school’s hallways silhouette Whitney; turn her into some great, looming monster with bleach-damaged hair and a mutilated mini-skirt. You could just barely make out the grin, wry and careless, that spread across her lips as she crouched, cupping your chin, pressing her thumb into your jaw with too much force for the gesture not to be deliberately malicious. “Now, that’s how I like to see my slut. On your knees, staring at me all doe-eyed and shit.” She paused, taking a moment to dig her nail into your cheek and savor how easy it was to make you wince. “You’re lucky I’m such a busy woman. If I had a few minutes, I’d give these losers a show and fuck you on the floor, make sure you get what you’ve been damn-near begging for all day.”

“Please, I—” You didn’t have time for her bullshit. If you missed a class, your grades would drop. If your grades dropped, Winter would notice. If Winter noticed, he’d question whether or not you were ��dedicated enough” to deserve your part-time job at the museum, and if you got fired, you wouldn’t be pay Bailey at the end of the week and if you weren’t able to pay Bailey—

“I have to get to class,” You spat, if only to get yourself out of your own head. “Whitney, I don’t have time to—”

“God, you’re such a fucking nerd.” Her tone was demeaning, teasing, but her grin didn’t falter. “See, that’s the problem. You’ve been brushing me off every time I try to get a little quality time in, and I’m starting to get lonely. Is it a crime to miss my favorite slut?”

“I’ve got time after school, a-and I’ll eat lunch with you tomorrow.” Begging, now that reasoning with her had failed, pleading. Not that falling back on the blank, hope-eating void where her heart should’ve been had ever led to anything but disappointment and suffering, for you. “I can’t afford to do this, Whitney. I— I’ll fail a test, and get fired, and get evicted—

“I know.” It was almost a mercy that she didn’t even pretend to care. At least she knew what she was doing. At least she couldn't say she didn’t know how badly she was going to hurt you. “Maybe, when you’ve given up on that stupid fucking job and gotten your ass kicked out of that shitty orphanage, you’ll remember who really takes care of you.”

She leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss into your forehead. You tried to melt into it, to salvage what scraps of kindness she was willing to offer, but even your desperation was misplaced – betrayed with an airy chuckle as she dropped lower, nipping at the corner of your jaw before running her tongue across your cheek and shoving you backward, leaving you on the floor as she stood.

The last thing you saw was Whitney, a twisted smile painted across her lips and a glint of something cruel in her eyes, before the door slammed shut, a lock clicked into place, and you were left in hopeless and impenetrable darkness.

[zoyasribbon]

SILKEN WHISPERS — d. szobozlai

.ೃ࿐ summary : Punctuality has forever coursed through your veins, especially during the most significant occasions. Yet, who would have guessed that a simple silk dress could shatter that rule?

.ೃ࿐ words : 0,6k.

.ೃ࿐ genre : suggestive.

.ೃ࿐ warning : swearing, hot makeout sesh.

.ೃ࿐ author’s note : marking my debut in the imagine territory where I’m taking my first steps with this little guy here—i have so many ideas in store ^^ hope you enjoy !

“Fuck, I love this dress” he growled into your ear.

You marveled at how Dominik had a way of approaching you with such effortless charm, savoring every moment of it. His warm breath brushed against the delicate shell of your ear, sending ripples of sensation through your entire being. You could sense the contours of his lush lips as they curved into a wicked smile, long before you could catch their reflection in the mirror.

His exquisite mouth. The gentle bristle of his stubble. His tussled, soft brown hair. The earthy scent of his cologne.

Him.

You couldn't fathom why his compliment impacted you so deeply. Well, you were aware of your excellent taste in clothing, a truly refined taste. Even the shop assistant praised your choice earlier. Yet, it was gratifying to receive admiration for your dress selection, a specific taste you had honed over the years, despite hearing your mother's reprimands all through your teenage years.

There was nothing overtly revealing about it. You cherished the fabric's softness and the delicate hue, an homage to the early breath of the warm summer day that lay ahead. It draped around your form, lending both grace and a sense of comfort.

Elegance and comfort, precisely what you sought. With Dominik so close behind you now, you felt, on top of all that, utterly sexy.

You mirrored his smile before focusing on applying your red lipstick. Dominik drew even nearer. His large hands encircled your waist, exerting a firm hold. His thumbs traced delightfully slow, feathery circles down your back, igniting a blaze that seemed to sear the silky fabric, sending tendrils of heat down your spine. What was his intention?

You attempted to stifle a gasp, but the faint tremor in your body, as involuntary as it was, betrayed you. Naturally, Dominik, to his great delight, took notice.

His languorous demeanor slowly gave way to a more intimate and intense expression. Your eyes fluttered shut as he dipped his head to kiss your neck. He was acutely aware of the effect this simple yet intimate act would have on you, especially when he focused on that particular spot where your shoulder met your neck. It was, after all, one of his many areas of expertise.

Unconsciously, you allowed the lipstick you had just lowered to slip from your hand onto the polished wooden chest of drawers. This granted you the excuse to weave your fingers into his hair—a subtle act not only to steady yourself but also to unwittingly encourage his delightful administrations, preventing your legs from giving way.

"We're going to be late," you managed to articulate with a tremulous, breathless voice. He let out a small laugh against your skin. "It's your cousin's wedding, after all," you murmured desperately, knowing that soon you would be rushing headlong into trouble.

In response, he delicately nipped a part of your neck. That slightest gesture was enough to make you surrender. Your head tilted backward, finding support against his sturdy chest before leaning slightly to the side. Your hand grabbed a few strands of his hair, pulling gently, eliciting a moan from him.

Now literally pressed against Dominik, you could feel every beat of his heart pulsating against his still partly unbuttoned white shirt. The mirror had indeed offered you a delightful view of his well-defined torso.

You ceased pretending that this damn wedding held any significance the moment his hands slid forward across your breasts and descended towards the lower curve of your belly and even lower. Suddenly, he emitted another groan, this one more desperate and guttural than the first. Your breath caught.

"You know what?" he whispered, "Far too perfect. Let your hair down, darling, I need to ruffle you up a bit before we go."

[bloatedandalone04]

Both of Us teaser

You were proud. Beyond proud, even. 

Jack’s career was taking off fast, you barely had a second to let it all sink in. You could only imagine how he was feeling.

The TV was on in the basement of his house, his mom’s cooking making its way down the stairs and emitting a growl from your stomach. Jack, who was sitting next to you, smirked as he took his eyes off his phone. You refused to make eye contact as your face heated up in a blush. “Stop staring at me,” you mumble as you continue to scroll through your Instagram feed. 

Jack laughed as he pocketed his phone. “I told you to eat something before I picked you up,” he shook his head as your thumb continued scrolling, though you were no longer paying any attention to what the posts were displaying. “It’s not my fault you never listen to me.”

“I listen to you all the time,” you say back, deciding to just turn off your phone as you had become distracted by him. “You’re the one who wouldn’t let me go to the store to grab some of those chips I like.”

He laughed again and scoffed slightly. “You have, like, three bags of them at your place,” he pointed out and you turned to face him. 

“But I don’t have any here,” you reply and watch as he shakes his head. 

Just then, the door to the basement opens and his mom calls down that dinner was ready, unknowingly making your shoulders drop in relief. Jack, who turned to call back to his mother, gave you a smile and shrug when he faced you again. “There, problem solved,” he said as he stood up and held his hand out to you.

As soon as you took it, the TV switched programs and began playing the teaser trailer for Avatar: The Way of Water. You were only half way up when you sat back down again and tugged on his hand. “Ooh, look,” 

Jack looked at the screen and felt his heart skip a beat at what was currently playing. “Seriously?” He asked no one in particular, his face heating up in embarrassment. He looked back down at you and his expression softened when he saw your look of excitement. “We’re not watching the whole thing, right? I’m probably not even in this one.”

As soon as he said that, the scene changed to show his character, Spider, in all his glory. You squealed in excitement as you tightened your hold on his hand and pulled yourself up. You wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug as you turned away from the screen. “I’m so proud of you,” you say and pepper his face with kisses. “Look, you’re on TV!”

Jack laughed as he wrapped his arms around your middle, the feeling of contentment washing away any ounce of embarrassment he felt at the fact that damn near every channel on TV had begun showing the trailer for the film. 

If only you had known that this would be one of your last good memories you share with him, maybe then you would have savored the moment a little bit longer.

-

it’s here x